adult fire lord zuko x wife!reader
warnings: 18+ nsfw, fluff, breeding kink, baby fever, daddy kink
summary: when fire lord zuko sees his wife holding babies, and with everyone constantly pestering for an heir, his mind can't help but reel to darker places.
“fire lord zuko! when can we expect an heir to the fire nation?”
“fire lord zuko! are you and the fire lady expecting?”
“who will take the throne as the prince now that you have been reigning for some time?”
the relentless questioning left zuko restless. he had hoped the weight on his shoulders would ease once he transitioned from prince to fire lord, but the pressure had only increased tenfold.
you, on the other hand, were as cool as a cucumber.
as the beloved fire lady, you were adored by the entire nation. while zuko was buried in council meetings and ledgers, you spent your free time at charities, local orphanages, and schools. to put it simply, you were constantly surrounded by families—more specifically, children.
zuko watched from afar as toddlers wrapped their chubby arms around your skirts, peering up at you with wide, hopeful eyes. parents took pride in seeing the fire lady cradle their infants, and even the fussiest babies seemed to settle the moment they were tucked into your arms.
“my! you would make such a wonderful mother,” one woman remarked.
“the fire lord is a lucky man indeed,” the citizens added. “a beautiful wife and a natural mother.”
while zuko often flushed with embarrassment, you took every remark as an opportunity to tease him.
“hear that, zuko? it means we’ve got work to do,” you joked, gently rocking a sleeping infant while the crowd erupted into laughter.
it wasn’t until you were talking to one of the elderly ladies from a distance that the conversation took a turn, her voice not-so-quiet as she described the struggles of pregnancy.
“pregnancy is a beautiful thing, but very, very tedious,” the elderly lady explained. “you’re constantly waddling around with a big, round belly. your feet are swollen and bare, and your…” she motioned to your chest, “always swollen and aching.”
your face flushed with embarrassment, but zuko, on the other hand, found his mind admiring the idea.
he wasn’t in a rush to have kids, but the image of you—his wife, waddling around the palace barefoot in nothing but a flowy dress. your belly, round from carrying his baby, and your breasts swollen with milk.
it was perfect.
and that was how you ended up here, sprawled across your shared bed with your legs hooked over zuko’s broad shoulders as he held you folded in a mating press.
his cock—thick and swollen—pounded into you relentlessly, the air filling with vulgar sounds that made your eyes roll back and your ears burn.
“zu—zuko!” you cried out in pleasure.
“gonna… get you…” zuko grunted, his hips drawing back as he drove into you deeper. “pregnant… gotta breed you—”
zuko was a mess of incoherent babbling, muttering about keeping you full of his seed and the image of you walking around barefoot. his heavy body completely enveloped yours, his hands tangling into your hair to pin you in place, keeping you trapped in that vulnerable position.
“gonna keep fucking you until it takes,” he promised darkly. “until our kids are running around the palace.”
you were a moaning mess beneath him, your legs dangling in the air as he pounded into you, forcing you to take every deliciously agonizing inch of your fire lord.
“how many do you think we’ll have? one? two?” zuko laughed raspily against your ear, the vibration making your body tingle. “or twins. that’d be nice—wouldn’t it?”
“so… so nice,” you managed to moan.
zuko laughed again, adjusting his angle so he could fuck even deeper into your warm, aching core.
“fuck. you gonna make me a daddy, baby?”
“yes, zuko!” you cried, nodding your head frantically against the pillows. “yes—i’ll make you a daddy—”
“shit,” he cursed, his body drawing tight as he felt himself ready to pump you full. “say it again.”
“daddy!”
daddy. daddy. daddy.
the sound of it was music to his ears. he tossed his head back, his long, dark hair damp with sweat against his bare skin as his cock pulsed deep inside you, pumping ropes of thick, hot cum into your aching pussy.
“god, that’s it,” he growled, peering down at you with lustful, golden eyes as his chest heaved.
“gonna make sure it takes. you’re going to give me an heir, aren’t you? my beautiful, perfect, sweet wife.”
he’s the fire lord for goodness sake—is he supposed to beg? umm anyways
— established relationship, MDNI 18+
the whole palace felt quieter than usual tonight, the curtains drawn against the palace lights. zuko sits by the edge of his massive bed—his elbows propped on his knees—firebending absentmindedly, making tiny sparks between his fingers. you’re across him drying your hair from your bath—you’re smelling like the lotion he pretends doesn’t make him weak.
he’s been distracted for days…? nah maybe weeks. every time you climb into bed to lay beside him, every time you straddle his lap just to give him a good night kiss—the same thoughts rush into his head—you ontop riding him slow the faster, your hands braced in his chest, your tits bouncing in his face and that little smirk on your face when you know you’re driving him insane. he’s the fire lord for goodness sake, he’s not supposed to want to beg for anything—especially not this.
so he stays nonchalant, like the thought hasn’t been burning him alive. you noticed of course. “zukoooo” you call out softly, crawling across the bed until you’re kneeling between his spread legs. “you’ve been weird all week, even for the last two weeks. what’s is going on inside that head of yours?”.
but he only shrugs his eyes briefly making contact with yours—he looks away because he doesn’t want to easily appear weak. “it’s nothing… just… state matter” “do you think i was born yesterday?” you lean in, brushing your lips against his jaw. “you’re just overthinking again. care to share…?”.
he exhales loudly through his nose—his hands settling on your thighs, thumbs stroking your skin right under the hem of your short. he doesn’t push further—almost does—he almost grabs your hips and pulls you down on him in that moment. but then that stupid voice in his head kicks in. i’m the fire lord—i don’t beg. yeahhhh right… the words slip out anyway. “i want you to ride me” he whispered, his voice low.
you pull back just enough to look at him, your eyebrows raised, a bit taken aback. “what?” you asked, a teasing grin already morphing across your face. his ears go red. fuck he knew you’d tease him—he cursed under his breath, looking everywhere but your face. “just forget it”.
“nope! well not now that you’ve mentioned it”. you grin, fully straddling his lap, arms loose around his neck. “you’ve been thinking about me riding you? forrrrr how long? and you didn’t say anything about it? zuko you idiot”. “shut up” he mutters but his tone lacked heat. his hands slid up to grip your waist—his fingers digging like he’s anchoring himself. “i just didn’t know how to.. you know.. ask… it’s not exactly something i’m used to doing”.
you let out a laugh, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “so you’re telling me, you’ve faced down armies and literal spirits but asking your girl to get ontop is where you draw the line..? cute”.
he groans, both embarrassed and turned on at the same time. “i said shut up”. before you could tease him again, he pulls you down harder against him—kissing you deep, tongue sliding into your mouth to tangle with yours as if he was trying to to win an argument with his mouth. when he breaks the kiss, both breathing heavy, he looks you dead in the eyes. “so would you ride me? now”. and you don’t make him repeat it.
clothes come off—your shorts and his pants are sprawled somewhere on the floor. then you’re back in his lap, fully naked, knees on either side of his hips—his cock already hard against your stomach. you wrap your hands around him, stroking once, then twice, watching his jaw clench. “slow” “go slower”. you nod, lifting up on your knees and lining him. the first sink down felt like torture—well at least to zuko. his head falls back, a groan rumbling out of his chest as you take him inch by inch. his hands are resting on your hips, not guiding yet—just holding you in place. “fuckkk… you feel—“. he cuts himself off, gritting his teeth.
you bottom out with a tiny gasp, sitting fully on him adjusting to the stretch. for a minute you just sat there—rolling your hips in tiny circles—feeling him throb inside you.
then you start moving real slow. up until only the head is inside, then sinking back down grinding a little at the bottom so your clit rubs against him. his groans get deeper every time you drop back down. “that’s it”. he praises. “just like that—oh my you’re so wet already, this feels so fucking gooood”.
you brace your hands on his shoulders, picking up the pace a little. the wet sounds filling up the room—skin on skin, your heavy breathing mixed with him muttering curses. his hands start roaming—one hand squeezing your waist while the other comes up to cup your tit, his thumb brushing over your nipple before rolling it between his fingers—getting out a moan from you, clenching around him. “zuko”.
“faster”. he demands but his voice cracks like he’s barely holding it together. “ride me faster baby”.
you plant your feet better on the bed and start bouncing properly—up and down—ass slapping against his thighs with every drop. you wrap your arms tight around his neck, pulling him closer so your tits press hard against his chest. he buries his face in your neck—groaning loud against your skin every time you slam back down. “shit just like that! you’re so perfect—so tight and warm”. his hands on your tits squeeze harder, the other gripping your hip so tight you’d probably have marks by tomorrow. he starts thrusting up to meet you, meeting every bounce with a sharp snap of his hips that make you cry out.
you’re getting louder now, moans coming out without control. sweat rolling down your face—your thighs burning in the best way, every time you bounce hard on his cock. it hits spots deep inside that makes you sees stars. “you’re gonna make me come.. fuckkkk slow down—wait no, don’t stop, keep bouncing”. you go even faster, arms locked around his neck—using him as leverage to fuck yourself harder on his cock—your tits bouncing heavy between you and zuko couldn’t resist, he leans back to get a clear view, then leans in to suck one nipple in his mouth—teeth grazing before licking it with his tongue.
the sensation makes you grind down harder, clit rubbing perfectly against his pelvis. “i’m close”. you gasp, your voice shaking. “zuko im so closeee”.
“come on me”. he growls against your neck—thrusting up harder. the orgasm hits hard—walls fluttering and squeezing around him as you keep bouncing through it. he groans louder it almost sounded like a growl—both hands back on your hips, helping you move while he chases his own release. “fuck i’m almost there.. don’t stop, don’t—shit”.
you keep bouncing and grinding, despite your legs shaking. he comes with a broken moan, his hips stuttering up into you—filling you deep, pulsing hot inside. you ride him slow through every wave, milking him until he’s trembling under you, arms wrapped tight around your waist like he’ll never let go.
for a long minute the only sounds are both of you trying to catch your breath, body sticky with sweat, his cock still buried inside you. he presses lazy kisses along your collarbone, up to your neck, finally finding your lips.
you pull back with a tired little smirk, still straddling him, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “all that time thinking about it and you almost didn’t ask? next time just say it, fire lord. i would’ve been on top days ago”. he huffs a laugh, embarrassed but sated “shut up”. then quieter, almost shy “we’re doing that again tomorrow”. you grin, kissing him once more. “definitely”.
he flips you over gently onto your back without pulling out, still half hard inside you—covering your body with his. the night is far from over.
may i req zuko who has a son (a baby, really) who never wants to part with him so zuko brings him to council meetings where the baby also gives his smart inputs (just babbles) ?
a/n: this request was so sweet anon! i hope you enjoy the blurb i whipped up
summary: left alone with your baby, Zuko takes his son to his first council meeting
“Is my handsome prince ready for his first council meeting?” Zuko coos fondly as he lifts the child from his crib and into his arms.
“His robes are too big,” you note with a frown. The red and gold silk swallows his little body whole, but the child doesn’t seem to mind as he flashes a gummy smile when your lips meet his cheek for a kiss.
“He’ll grow into them,” your husband assures you with a careful smile. “Just as I did.”
“Are you sure you don’t need me to stay?” You fret, beginning to fuss over the robes once more in an attempt to free your baby’s limbs from the heavy fabric. “I can watch Ezi so your council meeting remains undisturbed.”
“You deserve to have a day off, too. Ezi and I will be fine while you’re in the village. Besides, who would object to having the Prince at a council meeting? It’s his duty. Isn’t that right, my little dragon?”
Ezi laughs as Zuko playfully pokes his stomach, and the sight is enough to ease your worries for you to leave the palace guilt free as you bid goodbye to your husband and son. The Fire Lord holds the child in one arm while the other grabs hold of the baby’s favorite turtle duck toy, and with everything in order the two are off to the meeting.
The councilmen are surprised to see the Fire Lord take his seat with the infant on his lap, but none dare try to argue against his decision. Zuko has created a reputation for himself as a doting father unwilling to part from Ezi unless absolutely necessary, and the last advisor to suggest otherwise had quickly been relieved of his duties. The baby happily babbles away as he’s given his turtle duck, and Zuko takes the distraction as his opportunity to begin the meeting.
“What is on the agenda today, chamberlain?”
“My Lord, there’s been an influx of new soldiers that our staff is inadequately prepared for. There’s more soldiers than there are commanders, and it will be impossible to train them all properly!”
Zuko offers a thoughtful nod, opening his mouth to respond only to falter at the feeling of Ezi’s fingers pulling at his hair. He looks upon his child with a smile and gently removes his hands as he asks, “Do you have an idea, son?”
The baby can only babble in response as he continues his attempts to grasp at Zuko’s hair. The Fire Lord chuckles before looking back to his dismayed chamberlain. “Ezi and I believe it would be in our best interest to train the soldiers in cohorts rather than all at once. Stagger the admission rates and allow no new applicants until everything is in order.”
“Then it shall be done,” his chamberlain relents. “However, if I may Fire Lord Zuko, perhaps it would be in your best interest to leave the duty of childcare to Fire Lady y/n. She is the Prince’s mother, after all.”
“And I am his father,” Zuko reiterates firmly, his eyes sharpening with his protective wrath. “Ezi will not be let out of my sight while my wife is away, and I will hear no more of this. Is that understood?”
“Yes, my Lord,” he quickly relents with a repentant bow of his head.
“Good,” he reaffirms with a single nod. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll have to end our meeting early today. It’s time for Ezi’s nap.”
Zuko doesn’t bother to stay despite his chamberlain’s protests, instead choosing to exit the throne room and make his way back to your bedroom. He enjoys the quiet moments when it’s just the two of them together roaming the palace halls, Ezi happily cooing as he holds him securely against his chest. He adores his father, and Zuko’s chest swells with pride every time he makes his child smile; his son will never look upon him with fear or shame, and he’ll never know what it feels like to be unloved.
You return from your venture just as Ezi finally falls asleep, and you join your husband beside the crib as you admire your sleeping child together.
“Did he have a good day?” Your hushed voice asks as Zuko pulls you into his side.
“He made excellent suggestions at today’s council meeting,” he replies with a faint chuckle. “Our son is going to be a fine leader one day.
“With you as his father? He’ll be more than perfect,” you sigh sweetly.
Ezi loves his father, and Zuko will do everything in his power to ensure his son is happy and content for the rest of his days.
zuko tries to hold out, the poor thing, he truly does but when he has you on your stomach, hips propped up with a pillow, he loses it a little bit. his hands on your waist tighten as he ruts faster, the pleasure shooting through him as he fucks your sopping cunt. you’re done, spent through and through, given all control to your husband as he desperately chases his own release but he wants just one more from you. another orgasm to rip through you as you clench on his cock to have him cumming with you but as you tilt your hips higher, and reach back to pull your cheeks apart to have the lewd display of him fucking in and out of you fully visible he loses all sense of control.
his movements stutter, his voice trembling with heavy breaths. “ohh fuck- spirits, i-“ he can’t look away, too entranced on the way you suck him in, the white cream that rings the base of his cock, the way your ass ripples with each thrust.
“sweetheart, i’m gonna-“ he can’t even make it through the sentence before he is stilling in you, cumming so heavy and deep you feel warmth fill your belly. you can feel him twitch inside you, emptying himself out to you. he never wants to leave the warmth of you, wants to live within you forever and ever and he does, to a certain extent, he lets himself soften within your gummy walls, lets his heart return to a normal rhythm, his skin to cool back into neutrality and then and only then does he slip from your heat. he watches as a mix of his and your cum oozes from within you, thick white globs sliding down your puffy lips. he should fuck it back inside, push it so deep within you that he knocks you up but instead he drags a finger through, collecting it on the tip of his index.
“open.” he instructs, lifting his hand towards your face as if he were presenting a sweet treat and not evidence of your debauchery. you follow his command opening your mouth to lick the digit clean. his chest tightens.
: content ⌕ firelord!zuko proving he still gets aroused by his firelady, even after their child's birth.
18 + firelord!zuko x reader, bathing sex, piv, fem!body insecurity, body worship, fingering, teasing, postpartum, nipple play, orgasm, ending in suggestive cunnilingus.
"...again?" the pillow muffled ZUKO'S groan as he rolled onto his back, eyeing the empty space beside him. the sheets were still warm from where you had been moments ago... vanishing into the bathing chamber like smoke whenever his hands wandered too close.
moonlight caught his bare shoulders tense as he sat up. "you can't keep avoiding me forever," he called toward the shut door. the answering silence prickled his skin.
Inside the bath chamber, you pressed damp palms to the mirror, your reflection distorted. three months since your little daughter's birth, and still your body felt like unfamiliar territory. fire nation nobility whispered about concubines with unmarked skin, while you...
a knock. "talk to me." zuko's voice, low on his side.
the door creaked open before you could answer, steam curling around zuko’s feet as he stepped inside. his hair, half - undone from sleep, fell across his scarred cheek. you turned away, gripping the bathing pool's edge, but not before catching the way his gaze dropped to your waist where the water's surface clung.
"you’re supposed to wait for permission to enter," you mumbled, sinking deeper into the scented water.
zuko didn’t dignify that with a reply. though, he crouched at the pool’s edge. "three years married, and suddenly you’re shy" his thumb seized a droplet rolling down your shoulder. "or is it that you think I’d mind these?" his touch grazed the faint red marks along your hipbone... lighter than the lightning scars on his chest but just as permanent.
you flinched. "the fire sages say a ruler’s consort should..."
"...look like untouched porcelain... I know, I know," he finished weakly. "the same sages who called my face unfit for the throne?" he tapped your chin, forcing your gaze up to where his scar gleamed raw. "when have we ever cared for their opinion? why start now?"
you shook your head at god knows what. jasmine petals stuck to your damp collarbones as zuko shrugged out of his sleeping robe. it soon pooled at his feet. his chest was a battlefield of its own... old ridged burns interlaced with newer, pinker marks where your daughter's tiny nails had scratched him during late - night feedings.
"zuko, I..." your protest died as he soaked his body into the water, the heat making his muscles glisten.
when his knees hit the under water stone bench, zuko’s mouth found the spot beneath your ear. "be honest... which part of you thinks I’d ever stop wanting this." he cooed on damp skin, hands sliding down to grip your waist. "these hips?" a squeeze that sent water sloshing over the ledge. "this stomach?" palms skating lower, thumbs digging into the softness below your navel where your daughter had grown. "or..." his touch drowned under the waterline, testing your thighs with a passing touch of fingertips... "here?"
you gasped, hands flying to his wrists. "zuko, are you sure you don't want to wait..."
"this isn't about me," for grounding, you leanined your head against the wet tile behind you. "I've waited enough, three months, and I know you have to." his free hand squeezed your inner thigh, slow before just holding. "every night, watching you feed our daughter and pretending not to see how you wince when she latches." his fingers danced higher, avoiding where you ached most. "listening to you cry in here afterward like I wouldn’t burn the entire fire nation to the ground if it meant taking your pain."
your breath quickened. his thumb hovered just above your throbbing core, the heat of the bathwater nothing compared to the fire coiling low in your belly. "how low of you, to think I'd care about a few angry marks?" zuko whispered to your throat, a hand sliding up to cup your breast... heavy with a nurturing substance. "when every night I lie awake smelling the scent on your skin and imagining..." his fingers finally dipped between your folds, and your back laid off the tile, in an arch with a sudden gasp.
the sound echoed off walls, mixing with the drip of water from zuko's hair as he bent to lick a stripe of your neck. "we both know," fingers circling your clit, agonising and teasing, "the sages are yet to know how wet you get for me?" his teeth scraped your earlobe. "how even now, you're clenching around nothing?"
his fingers froze... a heartbeat... when your thighs tremble. It was that pause that undid you more than his touch... zuko’s breath hitched when your nails scored his shoulders... his thumb softened its circles to light strokes the instant your breathing grew ragged.
the tile was cold against your spine, but his mouth was scorching as it trailed lower... past your collarbones, over your breasts still tender from feeding your daughter hours before. he paused there, lips floating over a peaked nipple, eyes flicking up to watch you squirm. "tell me," he reassured, "if it’s too much."
you nodded violently as his tongue swirled tight around the sensitive bud, sucking gently until your hips jerked against his stomach. the whimper that escaped you sounded foreign in your own ears... desperate and keening... but zuko drank it in like a man starved. again with his free hand pacing down to grip your hip. "I got you,” he soothed to your chest as his fingers found your dripping core once more.
and gods, he did... every slow, torturous stroke of his fingers was purposeful to make you unravel by degrees. where the younger zuko, you married might have rushed, the man before you now worked with devastating patience, curling two fingers inside you just deep enough to tease before retreating to thumb lazy circles around your clit. "zuko..." you gasped.
"I know," he breathed, crooking his fingers just right. though open-mouthed kisses were placed to the stretch marks beneath your breasts, they gentled kisses whenever you hissed. his thumb never stopped its rhythm, even as he moved to cradle the back of your head with a hand. "perfect."
zuko suddenly took back his fingers... your whine at the loss tangled with the slick sound of his hand leaving you. he lifted you just enough to align himself with your dripping entrance.
"... easy," zuko asked of you. he plunged forward, the fire of him parting you slow. his forehead kissed yours as he waited, letting you adjust... always giving, even when his own thighs quivered with the effort of holding back. "is this too much..."
your nails bit into his shoulders, cutting him off. "...don't stop," you gritted, caving in to take him deeper, the stretch burning sweetly after so long apart. zuko's groan vibrated through your chest as he sank the rest of the way home, his hips greeting yours. for a second, neither of you moved... just breathed, foreheads touching.
you almost saw stars when he took it upon himself to begin moving. zuko’s breath was hot against your temple. he pulled nearly all the way out before pushing back in with the same pathetic pace. "still think I'd want anyone else?" he rumbled in the moment. he decided on deep, measured strokes that hit that spot inside you with exactly how you wanted, each resulting by the slap of water.
you couldn’t answer... couldn’t do anything but clutch at his shoulders as pleasure boiled tighter with every thrust of his hips. zuko was close in admiring your face, loving - lustful gaze.
his grip on your waist was the only float, keeping you from slipping beneath the surface. you forced your eyes open, your vision blurring with tears. zuko’s his scar flushed dark in your view. a water drip slid from his hairline down the bridge of his nose, slanting before falling onto your parted lips.
"... zuko,” you whimpered, the name broke as his thumb searched for your clit again, circles over and over. "I can’t... I’m going to..."
"I know," he smiled, so sweet second before his mouth closed onto your jaw, then neck. "let me see you."
you came undone with a cry, your body clamping around his as pleasure surged through you like wildfire. zuko’s rhythm faltered, his own release hitting him as he buried his face in your neck.
when he finally pulled back, his hands were gentle as they traced your waist, his thumbs guarding the marks there. "beautiful,” he told himself with a kiss to your collarbone before reaching for a nearby cloth to dab at the sweat beading along your brow. the tenderness in his touch made your throat tighten... he looked at you like you were still the same woman who stole his heart years ago...
the cloth fell from zuko’s fingers into the water as you caught his wrist, laying his palm flat to your stomach... "you're thinking about something, you dare not tell."
"am I?" zuko's thumb traced your navel. "funny. I thought I was worshipping."
your laugh arrived and left when he silenced it with a kiss... slow and deep, his tongue passing in, by your lips. drawing back, his lips lingered close enough to share breath. "the sages," he brought up their wicked calling, nipping at your lower lip, "never warned me about this."
"about what?"
"that their fire lord would fall to his knees for a single sigh from his wife." zuko ushered you to perch on the pool's edge, as he dipped his head lower... pushing your thighs apart on the way down...
atla masterlist . . . . . ↷
all atla and zuko works ࿔ ✎ @starr-jazz, @champagnesbiggestproblem, @rosieposiediditagain, @vanillakirstein, @mystiquevoid, @cantbesuree
pairing: age-up zuko x fem!reader
summary: he’s the fire lord. he’s faced war, loss and destiny itself. but nothing, nothing, tests his patience like the man who thinks he still has a chance with his fiancée.
warnings: age-up characters (the legend of aang: the last airbender characters), established relationship, jealousy, relationship insecurity, no use of Y/N, third person narration. english is not my first language, i apologize if there are any spelling or grammatical errors. explicit sexual content: oral sex (fem and male receiving) fingering, biting, scratching and marking, p in v sex, unprotected sex, possessive sex, possessive behaviour, let me know if I forgot anything.
word count: 8.2k
a/n: of course i saw that edit and of course i had to write something about it. it's embarrassing how many times i've listen to "jealous type" this week, oh my god, i'm so in love with zuko. i have many more ideas, but not that much time, so i'll see what i come up with next. besides, first i have to do valarr and aerion's parts in the f1 au and a few other things.
The Earth Kingdom always felt different, something Zuko had noticed the times he had accompanied her to visit her family or because he had to make political trips, and he clearly enjoyed those trips where they visited her family much more, knowing that they received him as one of their own. He didn't say it out loud, but it was a feeling that settled in his chest, warm, comforting, as if he were arriving at a second home.
And he clearly wasn't the only one who felt that way, because he could see the effect that returning had on her. She seemed much taller the moment her feet touched the ground on the earth leading to her old home where her family still lived, her shoulders completely relaxing and her gaze softening in the same way it did when she looked at him, filled with affection, love and peace.
Zuko knew she considered the palace home, that he had managed to make it comfortable for her, a place where she wanted to live with him, thrive, and one day start a family while they led the nation together. But there was no place like home, the one that had seen her born, take her first steps, and grow up before joining him and the rest of the group to help Aang years ago. And that was precisely why he tried to make it possible for them to travel there as often as they could amidst their responsibilities, that was why they had postponed all their commitments to attend her father's celebration.
He watched her with a gentle smile, noticing how she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, tilting her face slightly upwards so that the sunlight would hit her fully, illuminating her face with its warm light that made her look ethereal to Zuko, as if she were a deity, a goddess to be worshipped, his goddess.
He took advantage of the moment to observe her clothes once again, she wore deep green silks today, the traditional Earth Kingdom cut, but every hem and cuff was edged with subtle gold threading that caught the light like living flame, his colors, deliberately woven into hers. A small fire lily emblem was embroidered over her heart, a quiet declaration that she belonged to both worlds now.
Her hand slipped into his without looking, fingers lacing tight.
“I missed this,” she murmured, voice soft with memory.
Zuko tightened his grip, thumb brushing her knuckles gently. “I can tell,” he murmured, moving closer to her to place a soft kiss on her cheek that made her smile. “It looks good on you to come back, darling.”
She smiled up at him, soft, warm, entirely his, and for one perfect heartbeat everything felt right.
Until it wasn’t.
The celebration for her father's birthday was going to last for three days, filled with music that spread throughout the place, tables full of food with delicious aromas, and children running and shouting all over the grounds.
Her father, a tall, broad-shouldered man who years before had helped the Avatar and his friends with supplies and a roof over their heads, and who had allowed his daughter to join them to help Aang with earthbending alongside Toph, greeted them as if they were heroes returning from a hard-fought battle. He slapped Zuko's shoulder with a force capable of denting armor and trapped him and his own daughter in a tight hug, lifting them off the ground and causing Zuko to laugh as she whimpered, begging him to please put them down.
"My daughter and my future son-in-law," he said when he had released them from the embrace, gazing affectionately at them both, especially his daughter, before pulling her back into a much gentler hug and placing a kiss on the top of her head. "I was afraid you wouldn't be able to come. I know how busy you are, especially you, Zuko," he said, smiling proudly. "The whole group gathered under my roof once again, and my little girl with her future husband, I couldn't ask for a better birthday present."
Because in that place he wasn't the Fire Lord, the heir, the one who carried the great burden of leading the Fire Nation on his shoulders. He was simply Zuko, the boy she had met a decade ago, the one who over the years had become her friend along with the rest of the group, until officially becoming her partner three years ago, and finally her fiancée months ago.
And if Zuko was honest, he much preferred being referred to as her future husband or fiancée than as the Fire Lord. Because there he could simply be himself, a man in love with the most incredible woman he had ever known.
"We already told you in the letter that we were coming, Dad," she said, smiling as she greeted her mother.
"Nothing is more important than family," Zuko added, receiving a smile from her father, approving of his words, and even after so much time it comforted him that her family received him in that way.
"The rest of your friends are already here, you can go and get them. Leave your things here and I'll have someone put them away in your old room, honey."
The two nodded and headed to the backyard holding hands, from where the laughter and shouts were coming.
Aang was already being mobbed by a crowd of kids demanding airbending tricks, running all over the place with Momo. Her grandmother and aunts had dragged Katara into the kitchens, sleeves rolled up and giggling. Toph was nowhere to be seen, but judging by the sounds of punches, mounds of dirt tumbling down, and cheers in the distance, she'd clearly gone to the training yard and was tearing some of the attendees apart. And then there was Sokka, who, predictably, had claimed an entire tray of moon peach cakes and was hogging the limelight near the food stalls.
Zuko stayed by her side, not because he was embarrassed or nervous, but simply because he wanted to be near her. He loved watching the way she interacted with her family, with old friends, and how she drew him into the conversation, introducing him as her fiancée to those who hadn't yet met him and striking up conversations with those they had seen before. He liked seeing the way they looked at her with pride, some in awe, others even captivated.
He could handle the stares, they didn't bother him at all. He was used to them. She was a beautiful woman, anyone could see that, and not only was she beautiful, but she also had a heart of gold. Countless times he had noticed the looks they both received when they attended events or even when they simply left the palace to explore the city, the market, and the areas surrounding the palace.
Yeah, he could handle the stares.
What he couldn’t handle was the way one particular guest kept finding reasons to step into their orbit.
Ryuun. That was his name.
Zuko learned it within the first hour and immediately wished he could forget it.
Ryuun was everything that made Zuko's scar itch, broad-shouldered, tanned, and boisterous with that Earth Kingdom naturalness that filled the space without inhibition. He moved from side to side as if he owned the ground beneath his feet and as if he still held a piece of her past, as if he still had some right to approach her like that, as if the bond had never been severed.
The greeting took place right after the formal welcome. Ryuun approached with a confident stride, a wide smile, a smile too familiar for Zuko's liking, his arms open as if he expected her to walk right into them, as if he had expected her to come running to him like two lovers separated by time.
"Well, if it isn't my favorite runaway," he said, his voice echoing across the courtyard. "Have you come back for good, finally changed your mind, or are you just showing off your fancy Fire Nation trophy?"
She watched him with a forced smile that never reached her eyes, trying to be cordial. Zuko recognized that it was the same smile she wore in council meetings when one of the other members tried to dismiss one of her ideas. “Don’t start, Ryuun.”
“I’m not starting anything,” he replied lightly, but his gaze slid to Zuko and sharpened. “Though I didn’t expect you to bring… company.”
Zuko felt the temperature in his veins rise slightly. He kept his expression neutral, Fire Lord mask firmly in place. “Zuko,” he murmured, introducing himself, cordial but distant.
Their handshake was brief, firm, and entirely too long. Ryuu tightened his grip even further, testing Zuko's hold, and he answered without problem, giving him a small, victorious smile seeing how Ryuun huffed.
"Yeah, that’s what I heard," he replied dismissively, as if trying to belittle Zuko. "I thought you were coming alone. I assumed the Fire Lord would have more important matters to attend to. I thought we'd be able to make up for lost time."
It was then that she positioned herself next to Zuko, gently intertwining her arm with his, breaking the grip between the two men and preventing the moment from lasting too long as she noticed the tension in her fiancée's shoulders, a tension that lessened at her touch.
She didn’t even glance at Ryuun when she answered. “Zuko cleared his schedule to be here,” she said, her voice calm, steady. “He knows what this means to me and to my family.” There was no room for interpretation in her tone, no apology, no hesitation, just certainty. Then she turned to Zuko, her expression softening instantly, the tension melting into something warm, familiar. “Come on,” she murmured, giving his arm a gentle tug. “My nephews have been waiting all morning. They’re convinced the Avatar and their future uncle the amazing Fire Lord, their words not mine, are going to put on a show for them.”
Future uncle.
Zuko couldn’t help it, a small, fleeting smile tugged at his lips before he could stop it, something lighter breaking through the rigid control he’d been holding onto. It lasted barely a second because then he remembered. Ryuun was still there. The smile faded into something more restrained, more composed. He didn’t bother looking back, just gave a short polite nod in his direction, the kind reserved for people who didn’t matter enough to deserve more, and then he turned away with her. Her fingers slid down from his arm to lace with his hand, fitting perfectly, like they always did. The tension in his shoulders eased almost immediately at the contact, something unspoken settling between both of them.
Behind him, he caught the low murmur of Ryuun’s voice, something under his breath, sharp and unimpressed. Zuko ignored it, completely, because in that moment her thumb was tracing slow, absent circles over the back of his hand, grounding and distracting him at the same time.
“And they’ve been practicing all week,” she was saying, her voice soft with amusement. “You should’ve seen them, they keep arguing over who gets to be you when they play.”
That earned you the faintest huff of a laugh from him. “Is that so?”
“Mhm. Though I think the one pretending to be you keeps trying to cheat by declaring himself the winner before the fight even starts.”
Zuko glanced down at her, something warmer settling in his gaze. “Sounds familiar,” he muttered.
She nudged him lightly with her shoulder, smiling radiantly. And just like that, Ryuun’s voice, his presence, the tension, all of it faded into the background.
At least for the time being.
The first day had been relatively tolerable, mainly because she had made it so.
She kept her hand intertwined with Zuko's, leaning against his side during the long banquet, listening to anecdotes about her father and uncles, chatting with the rest of the group about what they'd been up to lately, and agreeing to embark on another adventure together before the wedding. When Ryuun tried to chime in with another story about ‘that time she and I climbed the western ridge and I had to catch her before she fell,’ she interrupted him with a frown as she poured herself some more salad, ‘I didn't fall. I remember that moment quite differently. And it was over seven years ago, ancient history.’
For Zuko, who knew her perfectly, who knew every tone of her voice, every glance, and every gesture, it was quite obvious that she didn't enjoy the way Ryuun tried to assert himself. He didn't want to be childish, after all he was a mature man in his late twenties, but the satisfaction he derived from seeing how she dismissed each of Ryuun's advances was immense. God, how he loved her.
He couldn't help but smile foolishly when she turned to him instead, her eyes sparkling and her voice warm. “Remember when we faced down those spirit wolves in the Foggy Swamp? You were the one who kept me from falling that night.”
Zuko’s smirk was small but real. “You kept me from burning the whole swamp down, darling.”
He knew he shouldn't worry, that it wasn't worth wasting energy on, but God, the urge he had to pulverize him every time he saw him trying to get her attention, talking louder when she was around, trying to drag her into the conversation even when she had nothing to do with it. It was utterly infuriating.
Later, when the girls—she, Katara, and Toph—marched off to the market stalls to rescue Katara from another round of pairing attempts by the aunts, the boys ended up in the training yard. Aang and Zuko lazily swapped fire and air forms while Sokka leaned against a barrel, munching on a skewer he'd taken from the kitchen.
“You’re doing it again,” Sokka said around a mouthful of grilled meat. “You're looking at him again as if you want to fry him.”
“I am not,” Zuko barked in frustration, then added under his breath, "Although I certainly want to."
“You absolutely are,” Sokka replied cheerfully. “That guy’s been orbiting her like a persistent satellite all day. I’m really impressed you haven’t set his eyebrows on fire yet.”
Zuko crossed his arms, jaw tight. “He’s insufferable.”
Aang landed lightly beside them, staff spinning once before he tucked it away. “He seems… nice? He helped carry all those heavy supply crates for the feast earlier, and the kids like him.”
Zuko turned on him, incredulous. “Nice?”
Aang blinked, ever the peacemaker. “Well, yeah. He’s good with the little ones and he was telling stories about the old days when we were all still kids…”
“He’s trying to impress her,” Zuko cut in, voice low and edged. “On purpose.”
Sokka snorted. “Obviously. Guy’s got the subtlety of a rampaging badgermole.”
Zuko’s glare could have melted steel. “That’s not funny.”
“Oh, it’s a little funny,” Sokka said, grinning. “You’re jealous.”
“I am not jealous.”
“Zuko…” Aang started gently.
"No, it's not like that, I'm not jealous," he hissed, running a hand in frustration over his face and pushing back the strands of hair that had come loose from his updo. "I just find him unbearable, detestable. I trust her completely," he sighed deeply, his gaze shifting to Ryuun in the distance talking to another guest. "It's him I don't trust at all."
Sokka leaned back, smirking like he’d won a bet. “Sure. That’s definitely not jealousy talking.”
Zuko didn't respond, at least not with words, smiling as he heard Sokka scream when the skewer in his hand was completely charred. "Oh, I'm so sorry, the wind blew that one," he shrugged, smiling with amusement.
"That was on purpose!" Sokka complained.
But Zuko ignored him, getting back into fighting stance with Aang. At least it would keep his mind occupied until she returned.
Zuko had a small hope that the situation would improve, but it didn't. It was worse the next day.
Ryuun appeared everywhere. During the morning archery contest he “just happened” to station himself beside her, offering tips on her form even though she outshot him twice. Later, when she and Zuko were learning to make baskets with her aunts, while they were asking them how everything was going at the palace and the council, he would make comments that tried to downplay the importance of it or try to glorify the things he had done during the time she had been away from home. At lunch he regaled the table with tales of their shared childhood adventures, how he’d once carried her three miles after she twisted her ankle, how they’d snuck out to watch the solstice fireworks together. And Zuko wanted to tear off his ears, his head, anything that would help him stop hearing it.
“You remember that night?” Ryuun asked, leaning in a little too close. “We stayed out till dawn. Best night of my life.”
Her smile was polite steel. “I remember being exhausted the next day and my father grounding me for a month.” She reached for Zuko’s hand under the table and squeezed. “Besides, I’ve had better nights since.”
Zuko felt the knot in his chest loosen a fraction in response to those words.
When the younger cousins begged for a bending demonstration that afternoon, she didn’t hesitate. She tugged Zuko toward the training circle, eyes sparkling with mischief and a carefree smile on her lips, lips that Zuko really wanted to kiss, as a kind of reward for everything he had been putting up with from that guy, but he knew it wasn't appropriate in front of the children so he held back, simply leaving a kiss on the top of her head. They would have time for that when they returned.
"We have to show them," she began, tying her hair into a high ponytail. "They've been dying to see the two of us fight, they want to see if you can beat me."
Zuko raised an eyebrow at that. "If I could beat you?"
She giggled. "Hmm, they know I'm the best, they want to see if you're on my level, love."
"Clever of them," he commented, making her smile. "Shall we put on a show?"
"Give me everything you have!" she said, giving him a quick kiss on the lips before running to her position, seeing that all the kids were already seated in their places, waiting expectantly.
Shaking his head, amused by her, Zuko ignited his fist, hearing the excited shouts of the children who screamed again when she stomped hard, shaking the ground as if a small earthquake had hit the training yard.
They sparred together, controlled, beautiful, flames meeting stone in perfect balance. Her earthbending was steady and powerful, and Zuko’s fire danced around it like a promise, while the children cheered wildly.
At that moment, all he could think about was her, her gaze, her laughter, the way she moved, and how she analyzed his every move, waiting for his next attack. The way they coordinated, how they complemented each other, how when she advanced, he retreated and vice versa, as if they were dancing to the same melody that only the two of them were able to hear in their hearts. With each movement they made, Zuko could feel his muscles relax and the tension in his chest lessen, that annoying feeling, which he still couldn't quite define but which he disliked intensely, beginning to fade away.
Until he looked up and saw Ryuun watching from the edge of the circle, arms crossed, expression sour.
He was testing his patience, and yes, Zuko had learned to be patient over the years, but everyone has a breaking point. And he found his that night.
It wasn't just one thing, but an accumulation of several. Like tiny grains of sand that eventually became a mountain that buried him completely.
The way Ryuun leaned in when he spoke to her excessively invading her space even when she walked away, the way he laughed like he still had a claim, the way he looked at her as if he still had the right to do so, the way he touched her shoulder or even her hair and the way he said her name like it belonged to him.
But the final crack came after she had already drawn the line, after she asked him to stop it.
Zuko had stepped away briefly to speak with her father about trade routes between their nations. When he returned, he rounded the corner of the storage tents just in time to hear Ryuun’s voice, low but loud enough to carry on the night breeze.
“She’ll come around,” Ryuun was saying to two of his friends, confidence dripping from every word. “She deserves better than some Fire Nation prince with a scar and a stupid crown. Someone who understands this land, someone from here. Not an outsider who…”
Zuko stepped into view before the man could finish. But Ryuun didn’t even flinch. “Fire Lord,” he said, voice mock-polite. “Eavesdropping now?”
Zuko’s hands curled at his sides. Heat surged up his arms, flame licked at his fingertips for half a second before he forced it down. Not here, not in her childhood home. Not in front of her family who had welcomed him with open arms. He couldn't do that to her, but God, how he wanted to tear him to pieces.
“Careful,” he said, voice dangerously calm. “You’re speaking about my fiancée.”
Ryuun stifled a laugh, as if it were unimportant, as if he didn't care about crossing certain boundaries. “I’m speaking the truth.”
"All I hear coming out of your mouth is pure bullshit,” he scoffed, tilting his head slightly. “I think we have different concepts of truth."
And before he could answer him, Zuko turned to leave, knowing that if he stayed, he might do something he would deeply regret, noticing his fingertips beginning to steam.
She noticed his absence almost immediately.
She had told Ryuun off twenty minutes earlier, quiet, firm and final, while Zuko was still talking with her father. “That's enough, Ryuun. I don't understand what the hell you're trying to achieve with this, but it's not going to work and it's not funny. I'm in love with Zuko, I have been for a long time, and that's not going to change just because I see an old friend again. I'm going to marry him and expand our family. Stop embarrassing yourself like this and stop ruining the atmosphere for everyone, it's fucking awful.”
Now she scanned the crowded courtyard, heart tightening when she didn’t see his combined robes. She knew exactly where he would go when he needed space.
Her old bedroom in the east wing hadn’t changed much. The same low wooden bed, the same woven rugs, the same window overlooking the orchard. Moonlight spilled across the floor. Zuko stood near the sill, back rigid, fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white.
“Hey,” she said gently, closing the door behind her.
He didn’t turn right away. “You shouldn’t be here. I’m not… good company right now.”
She crossed the room anyway, boots soft on the rugs. “That’s exactly why I came,” she murmured, standing next to him, noticing how clouded his gaze was, as if a storm had broken out within it. "We don't have to talk if you don't want to, but I'm not going to leave you here alone, I don't want to be out there alone without you."
Silence stretched between them, thick with everything unsaid.
Finally, Zuko exhaled sharply, trying to calm down, trying to dissipate the tension in his muscles. “He said you deserved better, someone from your own nation. Not me, someone with a scar and a stupid crown.”
She blinked. Then she laughed, soft, genuine, disbelieving.
Zuko turned, eyes burning with something deeper than fire. “You think that’s funny?”
She clicked her tongue before speaking. “I think he’s an idiot, love,” she said plainly. “I already told him that. Twenty minutes ago, while you were with my father. I said I’m in love with you and that I’m marrying you. End of discussion.”
Zuko’s shoulders loosened a fraction, but the storm still lingered in his gaze. “Well, it doesn't seem to have bothered him too much, it seems he has no intention of stopping.”
“I don’t care if he stops Zuko,” she replied softly, stepping closer. “I’ve already chosen. Years ago, when I confessed that I was in love with you, and every day since.”
His golden eyes searched hers, hunting for any flicker of doubt and finding none. “I know you have.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
He hesitated, jaw working, not knowing exactly how to say what he felt. “I don’t like the way he looks at you, like you’re still his to win back. Like I’m just… temporary.”
She cupped his face with both hands, thumbs brushing the edge of his scar the way she always did when she wanted to remind him he was hers. “Zuko. Look at me.”
He did.
“I don’t want someone from my nation,” she whispered, her eyes filled with emotion. “I want the man who stood by me against his own father, the same man who chose peace over power, who chose to do good even when it wasn’t the easiest option. The man who makes me feel like the whole world is steady beneath my feet even when everything is burning, the one who gives meaning to my days. You are the love of my life, and nothing and no one can change that.” She let out, almost as a prayer, love overflowing in each of her words. “I couldn't care less what he thinks or wants, the only thing that matters to me is you, us, together.”
His breath hitched. That ugly feeling, which he refused to name, was still there, raw and honest, but something else, relief, devotion and hunger, flooded in behind it.
"I trust you," he said softly. "Completely, I swear I do. It's him I don't trust."
"You don't have to worry about him," she murmured, smiling slightly. "Because I'm here with you. And I'm not going anywhere. There's no need to get jealous, love.”
Zuko’s hands found her waist, pulling her flush against him. “I’m not jealous,” he insisted, even as his voice dropped into that rough timbre that always made her knees weak.
Her laugh was warm against his lips. “You absolutely are. And it’s fucking adorable.”
“I’m not—”
“You are.” She rose onto her toes, brushing her mouth over his once, twice, teasing. “And it’s okay,” her fingers slid up from his chest to his collar, curling there, holding him in place just enough to make him feel it. “Because I’m yours,” she whispered, her voice soft but unwavering, her lips barely brushing his as she spoke. “And you’re mine.”
That finally broke him.
Whatever restraint Zuko had been clinging to all evening finally snapped. He kissed her like he’d been starving for it, deep, desperate, claiming. His fingers tightened on her hips, backing her toward the wall until her shoulders met cool stone. Laughter spilled between them for a heartbeat before it melted into heat. She tasted like spiced wine and home, and he drank her in like he needed her to breathe.
“I hate him,” he muttered against her mouth, nipping her lower lip.
“I know,” she breathed, hands sliding up his chest slowly.
“I really hate him.”
“I gathered,” she gasped as she felt him press himself against her.
The kiss wasn’t gentle, it wasn’t careful. It was heat and frustration and relief all tangled into one, years of discipline cracking under the weight of how much he wanted her, how much he needed to feel that she was right there, with him, choosing him.
Her breath caught against his mouth, but she didn’t pull away, if anything, she leaned into him, meeting him with equal intensity, her hands gripping his collar, pulling him closer as if there was still too much space between them.
Zuko exhaled sharply through his nose, his forehead pressing briefly against hers before he kissed her again, deeper this time, slower but no less desperate, like he was trying to memorize the feeling. Like he was trying to erase everything else.
Every word Ryuun had said. Every look. Every doubt he refused to admit he’d felt.
All of it burned away under the simple, undeniable truth of her lips against his.
“You drive me insane,” he muttered against her mouth, voice low and rough, completely unguarded now.
Her answering smile brushed his lips. “Good.”
That almost made him laugh, almost. Instead, he kissed her again.
Her fingers worked the ties loose of his formal robes, pushing the heavy fabric off his shoulders. Beneath it he wore a simple green tunic, Earth Kingdom cut, chosen that night as a gesture of respect, but still embroidered with tiny golden flames along the seams. Her colors on him. His colors on her. The sight made something primal uncoil low in his belly.
Her own gown, green silk with fire-lily embroidery, slipped from her shoulders with a whisper of fabric. Moonlight painted her skin silver and gold.
Outside, the celebration roared on, drums, laughter and the distant crackle of fireworks. No one would miss them for a while. It could just be the two of them, lost in each other.
Her back met the edge of the low wooden bed with a soft thud, the familiar quilt bunching beneath her as Zuko followed her down. His mouth claimed hers instantly, hot and urgent, no longer holding back the storm that had been building since the moment Ryuun had opened his mouth. Their kiss was deep and messy, tongues sliding together, teeth grazing lips, the kind of kiss that tasted like relief and raw possession all at once. His hands roamed greedily over the green silk still clinging to her hips, shoving the fabric higher until his palms found the bare warmth of her thighs. He squeezed, fingers digging in just enough to leave faint imprints she would feel tomorrow, a silent claim only he would see.
“Say it again,” he breathed against her mouth, the words breaking slightly, rough with need and something far more fragile beneath it. “Please… just say it again, please darling,” he practically begged.
She didn’t hesitate this time. She felt it, the flicker of doubt still lingering in his golden eyes, the jealousy he tried so hard to bury but that now lay bare between them. And beneath it all… the quiet fear.
Her hands rose to cradle his face, holding him there, steady, like he was something precious and breakable all at once. Her thumbs traced his jaw, then softened as they brushed over the familiar ridge of his scar, lingering there with a tenderness that said more than words ever could.
“I love you,” she whispered, her voice low and warm, each syllable slow, deliberate… meant to be felt, not just heard. “Zuko… I love you.” She leaned closer, her forehead resting against his, her breath mingling with his. “There’s no one else,” she murmured, softer now, but somehow even more certain. “There never was and there never will be. It’s you, it’s always been you.” Her fingers curled slightly against his skin, grounding him. “You’re the one I chose,” she continued, her voice deepening with emotion. “The one I’ll keep choosing. Every day, every lifetime if I have them,” a faint, breathless smile ghosted over her lips. “My love… my future husband,” she whispered, brushing her lips against his again, slower this time, lingering. “The man I belong to… and who belongs to me.” She pulled back just enough for him to see it, every ounce of truth in her eyes. “Completely,” she finished softly. “Only you.”
A low, unsteady groan slipped from his throat, the sound raw, almost helpless. Her words ignited something in him, quick and consuming, like sparks catching on dry tinder.
He didn’t trust himself to speak. Instead, he buried his face in the curve of her neck, breath warm against her skin as his lips found the frantic rhythm of her pulse. He lingered there for a second, feeling it, claiming the moment, before pressing a slow and deliberate kiss just below her ear.
Then another.
And another.
Until it turned into something deeper, his mouth tightening just enough to leave a mark, dark and fleeting, something that would hide beneath her hair come morning, but that he would know was there.
His.
Her breath hitched sharply, fingers tightening against him. Zuko’s teeth grazed the sensitive spot, barely there at first and then a little firmer, enough to draw a soft gasp from her lips, her body arching instinctively into his, closing whatever space remained between them. He exhaled against her skin, low and heated, as if even that small reaction had unraveled what little control he had left.
“Again,” he murmured, voice muffled against her skin, already moving lower. Another bite followed, this one on the soft swell of her breast where only he would ever see it, followed by a soothing lick that made her shiver. “Tell me you are mine.”
Her breath trembled as his words sank into her, sending a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the cool air and everything to do with him. Her fingers found his neck, holding him there, anchoring him, even as she struggled to steady her voice.
“I’m yours,” she whispered, soft at first and then firmer, more certain, like she needed him to feel it. “Zuko… I’m yours.”
He stilled for half a second, just enough to let it settle. Then his grip on her tightened, a quiet, reverent kind of intensity replacing the restless edge from before. His forehead pressed briefly against her, breath uneven, like those words had done something deeper than either of them expected.
“And you’re mine,” she added, quieter now, her thumb brushing along his cheek, grounding, tender in contrast to the heat building between them. Her hands traveled to his hair, her fingers threading into the neat topknot at the crown of his head. She tugged the leather tie free in one smooth pull, letting his thick black hair spill down around his shoulders in a dark curtain. The moment it came loose she fisted it tight and yanked, guiding his mouth exactly where she wanted it. “My love…” she breathed, the words slipping out against his lips like something claimed rather than said.
Her grip tightened in his hair, keeping him right where she wanted him, not letting him pull away even a fraction. “My future husband,” she continued, softer but deeper, heavier, like each word carried weight. Meaning.
Her forehead brushed his for the briefest second before she tilted her head, her voice dropping into something almost reverent, and dangerously certain. “No one else gets this,” she murmured, her lips ghosting over his as she spoke. “No one else gets to have me like this… to feel me, to know me…” Her fingers flexed, anchoring him there. “Like you do. No one else get me, Zuko.”
Zuko moaned, loud, wrecked, the sound vibrating hot against her throat as he kissed and sucked and marked her collarbone, the sensitive dip beneath her breast, the curve of her ribs. The sharp pull on his hair sent a fresh bolt of heat straight down his spine, he pressed harder against her thigh, already aching and straining against the last layers of fabric between them.
Clothes vanished in a frantic tangle of silk and linen. Her gown pooled on the floor beside his green Earth Kingdom tunic, the golden flame embroidery catching the moonlight like a secret promise. Bare skin met bare skin, warm and urgent and perfect. His hands were everywhere, cupping the weight of her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples until they tightened into hard peaks under his touch, sliding down the dip of her waist, gripping her hips hard enough to leave faint fingerprints she would trace later with a secret smile.
She pushed him onto his back, straddling his thighs with a wicked little smile. She leaned down, her hair falling like a curtain around them, and kissed him slow and filthy, rolling her hips just to feel him twitch and throb beneath her. Then she slid lower, trailing open-mouthed kisses down the center of his chest, over the old scar that crossed his torso, until she reached the sharp cut of his hips. She took her time, licking and nipping at the taut skin there, savoring the way his stomach clenched under her mouth.
Zuko’s head fell back against the pillow the instant she wrapped her lips around him.
“Spirits…” the words dissolved into a broken groan as her tongue swirled around the flushed head, slow and teasing, before she hollowed her cheeks and took him deeper. One of her hands stroked what she couldn’t fit, firm and steady, while the other pressed flat against his lower stomach, pinning him down. He was a complete mess within seconds, hips jerking up despite her hold, fingers twisting desperately in the sheets, incoherent sounds spilling from his lips in a language that wasn’t quite words. Growls, whimpers, half-formed curses and praises all melted together until nothing came out except raw, desperate noises. “Please… fuck yes.”
She hummed around him, the vibration shooting straight through his body and making his thighs tremble violently. Every time she pulled back to lick a long, wet stripe up the underside, dragging her tongue over the sensitive vein there, he lost another thread of control. His chest heaved, hair sticking to his damp forehead, eyes squeezed shut as pleasure overloaded every sense. She was his weakness, always had been and in that moment, she was wrecking him on purpose, sucking harder, taking him deeper, letting her teeth graze just enough to make him see stars.
He couldn’t finish a single coherent thought. His voice cracked on every syllable, reduced to grunts and moans and broken gasps that only grew louder when she sped up, her hand twisting in time with her mouth. He was right on the edge, hips stuttering, when she finally eased off with a wet pop, lips shiny and swollen, eyes dark with satisfaction.
“Still not jealous?” she teased softly, pressing a lingering kiss to the inside of his thigh.
Zuko let out a shaky and breathless laugh that turned into another moan when she sucked him back down for one last teasing swirl.
“I’m not jealous,” he managed again, though his voice came out rough and uneven, completely betraying him.
Her soft laugh brushed against his skin, unconvinced, already forming a reply. But she never got to say it.
In one swift movement, Zuko caught her off guard. His hands were on her in an instant, firm and certain, as he pulled her up and shifted their positions with a controlled, fluid motion. The world seemed to tilt for a second before her back met the mattress, breath catching sharply as he hovered above her. For a moment, all she could do was stare up at him. At the way his hair fell loose around his face now, framing those golden eyes, darker than before, burning with something far more dangerous than jealousy.
Possession. Certainty. Hunger.
“You were saying?” he murmured, voice low, edged with something that made her pulse jump.
Her lips parted but no words came out this time. Because now… He was the one in control.
Zuko didn’t give her a chance to catch her breath. He slid down her body with predatory grace, strong hands parting her thighs wide and hooking them over his shoulders in one smooth motion. The first drag of his tongue over her was slow, deliberate and filthy, broad and wet from entrance to clit, savoring the taste of her like he was starving. A low, guttural groan rumbled out of his chest, vibrating straight through her core, and then the hunger took over completely.
He devoured her.
There was nothing restrained about it. Zuko ate her like a man possessed, messy and desperate, tongue lapping at her with long, greedy strokes that left her slick and shining on his chin. He sealed his lips around her clit and sucked hard, cheeks hollowing, the wet obscene sounds filling the quiet room alongside her sharp gasps. Two thick fingers pushed inside her without warning, curling deep and thrusting in time with every flick of his tongue. He added a third almost immediately, stretching her open, scissoring them while his mouth worked her relentlessly, sucking, licking, devouring like he couldn’t get enough.
Her back arched clean off the bed, hands flying to his hair, fisting the loose black strands and yanking hard. The pull only made him groan louder against her, the vibration sending sparks shooting up her spine. He was a wreck between her thighs with hair wild, face flushed and glistening, eyes half-lidded in pure bliss as he buried himself deeper, nose pressed against her, tongue swirling and lapping without rhythm, just raw need.
He pulled back just enough to look up at her, lips shiny, breath hot against her soaked folds. “Say it,” he rasped, voice wrecked. “Say it again while I taste you.”
Her thighs trembled around his head. “I love you,” she gasped, hips rolling helplessly against his mouth. “I love you, Zuko. I’m yours, just yours,” she stammered, head thrown back, fingers yanking his hair hard enough to sting. “Only you, always you, my future husband. I’m yours, Zuko, I’m yours…”
The words snapped something in him. He dove back in with a desperate sound, tongue working faster, messier, three fingers pumping deep and hard while his lips sucked her clit in tight, rhythmic pulls. His free hand gripped her hip bruisingly, holding her open for him as he feasted, chin dripping, tongue thrusting inside her alongside his fingers, then dragging back up to circle her clit again in sloppy, hungry strokes. The wet, filthy sounds grew louder, slick and obscene, as he ate her like he was trying to drown in her, desperate and messy and utterly devoted.
She came with a broken cry, thighs clamping around his head, back bowing as pleasure tore through her in crashing waves. But he didn’t stop, he kept licking and sucking and fingering her through it, relentlessly, drawing out every last tremor until she was twitching, oversensitive, and tugging desperately at his hair.
Only then did he crawl back up her body, kissing a wet trail up her stomach, between her breasts, along her throat. His mouth found hers in a deep, filthy kiss so she could taste herself on his tongue. He settled between her thighs, the heavy length of him sliding against her soaked folds, teasing for one heartbeat.
"God, how I love you,” he whispered against her lips, voice hoarse with need as he notched himself at her entrance.
Her answer was a soft, breathless sound, half moan and half plea, as she wrapped her legs tighter around his waist and pulled him in. Zuko thrust forward in one smooth, deep stroke, burying himself to the hilt. The stretch, the heat, the perfect fit of her around him drew a low, guttural groan from his chest that vibrated against her mouth. For a heartbeat they stayed like that, foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling hot and ragged, simply feeling each other.
Then he began to move.
Slow at first, deliberate, rolling rolls of his hips that dragged every thick inch along her walls, grinding deep so she felt him everywhere. His hands pinned hers above her head, fingers laced tight, while his body covered hers completely, skin slick with sweat sliding together. Each thrust was controlled power, passionate and possessive, the old wooden bed creaking softly beneath them in rhythm with the distant drums outside.
Her head tipped back, lips parted on a silent gasp, and Zuko chased the sound with his mouth, kissing her deep and slow, tongues sliding lazily, tasting the remnants of her pleasure still on his lips. He released her hands only to slide one arm beneath her lower back, arching her up to meet every thrust, the new angle making her tremble and clench around him. His other hand cupped the back of her neck, thumb stroking the marks he’d left earlier, holding her close as if he could fuse them together.
No more words. Just the wet slide of skin, the soft slap of hips meeting, the shared, shaky breaths. Zuko’s mouth never left her, trailing hot, open kisses along her jaw, down the column of her throat, sucking gently at the pulse point beneath her ear before moving lower to lick at the dark bruise blooming on the swell of her breast. He bit down lightly, just enough to make her arch harder into him, then soothed it with his tongue while his hips snapped forward a little sharper, a little deeper.
Her nails dragged down his back, leaving red lines he would wear like badges tomorrow. Her heels dug into the small of his back, urging him on, and Zuko answered with a low growl, picking up the pace. His thrusts turned powerful and relentless, long dragging strokes that hit that perfect spot inside her every single time, grinding on the end of each one so her clit rubbed against his pelvis. Sweat beaded on his brow and dripped onto her collarbone, he licked it away without breaking rhythm, golden eyes locked on hers the entire time, dark and burning with everything he couldn’t say out loud.
The room filled with the sounds of them, soft desperate gasps, the slick rhythm of their bodies, the occasional broken moan when he hit just right and her walls fluttered around him. Zuko shifted again, hooking one of her legs higher over his hip, opening her wider, driving even deeper. The new angle made her cry out, nails digging harder into his shoulders, and he swallowed the sound with another fierce kiss, tongue stroking hers in time with his thrusts. He could feel her tightening, trembling, right on the edge. One hand slipped between them, thumb circling her clit in tight, slick strokes while he kept pounding into her, deep, passionate and relentless. Her back bowed, mouth falling open against his, and she came hard around him, clenching and pulsing, pulling him even deeper as pleasure ripped through her in long, shuddering waves.
Zuko followed right after, hips stuttering, burying himself as deep as he could go with a broken, guttural moan of her name. He spilled inside her in hot, pulsing bursts, forehead pressed to hers, arms locked around her like she was the only solid thing in the world. They stayed locked together through every aftershock, bodies trembling, breaths syncing, hearts hammering against each other.
Only when the last tremor faded did he ease down, careful not to crush her, rolling slightly so she lay draped half across his chest. His arms stayed wrapped around her, one hand stroking slow, soothing lines up and down her spine while the other tangled gently in her sweat-damp hair. Soft, reverent kisses pressed to her temple, her closed eyelids, the corner of her mouth, silent promises in every touch.
For a while, neither of them spoke. They didn’t need to.
Her breathing slowly evened out against him, her fingers lazily tracing patterns over his chest, absent and content. Zuko rested his cheek against the crown of her head, eyes half-lidded, the earlier tension long gone, burned away into something quieter, something steadier, something theirs.
“You’re quiet,” she murmured after a moment, her voice soft, a little drowsy but unmistakably amused.
Zuko huffed faintly. “So are you.”
“Mhm… I’m recovering,” she replied, shifting slightly so she could tilt her head up and look at him, a teasing glint already forming in her eyes. “You, on the other hand… look suspiciously at peace.”
“I am,” he said simply, a pleased smile on his lips.
She studied him for a second longer, then her lips curved. “Still not jealous?”
“No.”
She raised a brow. “Not even a little?” she pressed, clearly enjoying this.
He met her gaze, calm, steady… and entirely unconvincing. “No.”
She let out a soft laugh, dropping her head back against his chest. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I’m right.”
“You’re the jealous type,” she corrected, nudging him lightly.
Zuko frowned slightly at that, like he was considering arguing, but then his arms tightened around her instead, pulling her closer in a quiet, possessive sort of way that completely gave him away. She didn’t miss it.
“Oh, definitely the jealous type,” she added, satisfied.
He exhaled through his nose, something almost like a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “…Only when it comes to you.”
That softened her instantly. Her fingers curled against his chest, her voice quieter now, warmer.
“Good,” she murmured.
Outside, the celebration still roared faintly in the distance, laughter, music and the echo of a party that hadn’t slowed for a second.
Inside that room, though, it was quiet, steady, safe.
And as she shifted closer, fitting perfectly against him, Zuko pressed one last kiss to her hair, eyes closing briefly.
cw : concubine!reader ◞ tension ◞ unprotected piv ◞ pool sëx ◞ semi-public sëx ◞ fingëríng ◞ tït sücking ◞ creampie ◞ p with plot ◞ fem!reader ◞ wc: 2.8k
the many times you try to stand out among the other concubines & the one time it finally gets you fucked !
WEEK ONE : PICK ME, CHOOSE ME !
fire lord zuko has three weeks to get married.
a commitment compelled too soon. two weeks ago you were hair tied up & tits pushed out under padded bra cups. three women to your left, three more to your right. all half-dressed in a line in front of the throne & ready to claim the fire lord’s heart for their own.
or his dick, perhaps.
and the right to bear the next heir, of course. it’s a cool summer evening with pansies in your hair & cicadas creaking in the midsummer heat. your skirt slit is too high & your top’s far too tight. you’re biting your lip to suppress your giggles as you pad towards lord zuko’s chambers.
the other concubines might as well give up now. lord zuko won’t even know what hit him.
❥ WAIT—WHO’S THIS WHORE ?!
the woman in zuko’s lap has boobs bigger than your head.
perhaps you’re exaggerating, or perhaps you’re just pissed. 6PM at the fire estate means children in the garden & tea in zuko’s lap—not a dumb bitch with a bad BBL. at least, you think it’s a BBL. her hips are shaped like your molars!
lord zuko has his pulse in his teeth, palms on the floor to keep him steady as he leans too far back. little miss boobs-for-brains can’t take a hint—she’s got a grape pressing against zuko’s teeth & his face is clenched like he might let out a whine.
this is your kairos moment.
“ah—! am i interrupting, my lord?”
zuko & the concubine’s eyes snap towards your voice. even now she’s still leaned against him, tits spilled out & smushed against his chest. your lip ticks. there’s a crevice in your palm from the bite of your nail. stay. calm.
zuko catches his breath. “no—not at all. please state your business.”
beside him, tits-for-brains is pouting, still too close for both you & zuko’s comfort. you clear your throat & bat your lashes all sweet:
“actually, my lord, i’m here for her,” you turn to the woman. “an advisor asked me to fetch you. said it was important. something about ‘plastic hips not being good for birth giving’, i believe?”
she frowns, easing off zuko’s lap, palm still digging into his thigh. “huh? that can’t be right, i—“
“i think it’s best you discuss that with the advisor,” your smile is sugary sweet. “as soon as possible, too. you wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”
zuko breathes as she stands up from his side. and for a moment his eyes flicker to yours—amber eyes glistening with something you can’t quite see in the light. his gaze dips as fast as it came, and with a deep frown & plastic hips, tits-for-brains takes her exit.
❥ COMPETITION : ANNIHILATED.
WEEK TWO : WHOOPS—THERE GOES MY ROBE !
you have an inside man.
connie. connie springer. bald head & big eyes & extremely weak against bribes. concubine pairin bribed him with a bag of silver. concubine meimei did so with a bag of gold. you’re standing before him now, arms crossed over your chest as he takes a bite from your batch of cookies.
“mmph—“ his cheeks are chubby & smeared with chocolate chip. he gulps, “you’ve got yourself a deal.”
—-
connie springer easily proves he’s much more than his appetite. you’re in his quarters now, feet kicking as you lean back on his desk. he’s digging through a chest, clothes flying through the air. you don’t ask why a thong flies out. you don’t ask why it’s a size XXXL.
“aha!”
connie pulls out a velvet robe. it’s silky & fur rimmed, material light so it flutters in the breeze. connie beams at you proudly. your lips twist in disgust.
“why do you have so many women’s clothes?”
“please respect my privacy…”
you eye him before taking the robe off his hands. & it’s pretty—too pretty—rich in silk & red as ribfruit. connie cocks his head: “got any hot nightgowns you plan to wear under it ?”
you blink. “i have nightgowns…i don’t know about hot.”
connie shakes his head as if disappointed. back to the chest of inappropriate women’s clothing he goes.
——
in west corridor five, the torches are too low & the shadows are too long.
and the robe is far too itchy. connie stands in his post at a corner on the side. you have the nightgown snug underneath the robe, black & lacy & so skimpy that even connie whistled. ‘fire lord’s gonna lose his mind.’
zuko rounds the corner.
and he’s pretty, you think. brown hair tumbling from his scalp. bottom lip swollen from the heat of his afternoon tea, burn mark giving his delicate features a rugged detail. your heart hammers. he’s getting closer, closer—
“good evening, lord zuko!”
you bow with a chirp. the robe slips clean off your figure.
and for a moment—just a moment—zuko looks.
neck rash-red, throat itchy. his eyes glaze over you—waist, plush thighs, breasts glazed over & supple in the evening light. the fabric is too sheer so he can see your nipples pebbled & aching through the fabric. your nightgown dips between your thighs & zuko can see the soft print of your pussy in your panties. your cheeks are blood drenched. something hot blooms in zuko’s stomach.
there’s a heat in his crotch but he whips around immediately, palms clenched, jaw tight. he can’t find his breath & his eyes are too wide. his half-burned one opens even wider.
“guard—!”
“lord zuko!” you clutch at your chest, thighs tingling in the evening breeze. “my sincerest apologies—! my—“
“guard!”
connie rushes to his side, eyes flitting to your flushed figure before shifting back to his lord. zuko has his palms tucked tight. “this girl—escort her to her chambers immediately.”
zuko is still turned around, eyes squeezed shut. you’re still half-naked, bones shivering & cheeks blood drenched.
connie salutes, teeth gritting before he turns to glare at you. “how dare you!”
“connie—“
“how dare you! to present yourself half-dressed in front of the lord—how utterly classless!”
he grabs your arm. “your robes—where are your robes!”
you flinch in his grip, “they—they’re on the floor!”
“on the floor! in front of the fire lord! have you no respect for the crown?!”
zuko is still turned away behind connie. his voice is quiet: “take her to her chambers.”
“at once!”
you wriggle in connie’s grip as he drags you off, his nails digging into your skin. when you’re far enough from zuko you kick him in the shins. he doesn’t stop moving. “connie! what the hell are you doing?!”
his eyes flit to yours & back straight ahead.
“girl, i don’t fucking know you.”
WEEK THREE : SEX & SWIMMING POOLS
lord zuko has been avoiding you.
and you’d be a fool not to notice. there’s a heat in his neck when it’s your turn to pour him tea. his eyes never seem to meet yours in the halls. there are two more guards in every corridor. you swear it’s getting excessive.
and confusing, because you don’t miss it.
you don’t miss how his gaze flits to you when you walk by, fleeting & half-ashamed, stopping at your collarbones before he decides to pry away. the soft glance at your covered shoulders like he remembers their shape underneath your robe. the bob of his jugular when you’re dressed down in the heat, gaze sticky with something you can’t quite name. it’s infuriating.
and because you’ve had enough of it, you decide to take matters into your own hands.
—-
connie sells the fire lord out for a plate of lazy cake & cookies on a platter.
12AM / behind the stone pillars / steam clinging to the breeze & zuko’s back turned in the pool. your underwear’s too skimpy & your thighs clench in the cold. fire lord zuko doesn’t hear you coming.
you dip into the bath beside him.
“y/n—?“
zuko freezes, jaw slack, hair drenched & chlorine sticky. he shifts back against the wall on instinct, steam stinging at his pinkened ears.
“don’t tell me to put my robes on. i’m already in the water.”
zuko was not about to tell you that. he’s not sure he could, really—there’s an itch in his rib & his vocal chords slosh against his throat like blood. the water laps at your chest & dips into your bra top. fire lord zuko averts his eyes.
you won’t let him run. not this time.
so you shift closer. “why are you avoiding me?”
his eyes don’t meet yours. “i’m not—“
“you are,” you spit. “you won’t look at me during teatime. won’t even greet me in the hallways like you used to,” you croak. “is it my fault? do you hate me now because i’ve been trying too hard?”
zuko doesn’t respond. there’s an ache in your voice box.
“i just wanted you to notice me—“
“i noticed.”
his voice is quiet, rough. you think the words might’ve cost him something.
“i noticed,” he repeats, jaw tight.
you blink. there are blisters on your neck from the heat & something else. “then why won’t you—“
“because you’re a concubine candidate and i’m the fire lord.” his lips are half-bitten. “because i’m supposed to be better than this. impartial. not supposed to want—“
“want what?”
he doesn’t answer, and only stifles a breath. his head is hung low and his arms are on the bath’s ledge.
you swim closer, lift his head to look up at you with a palm on his cheek.
“zuko,” you breathe. “do you want to touch me?”
his breath catches & his cheeks smush in your palms. “what—?”
you guide his hands off the stone edge and onto your body. a palm on each hip. his fingers dig hard.
“like this,” you coo, & your voice spoils in the heat. you guide his right palm to your breast—heavy & aching—and zuko’s breath catches.
“it’s okay,” your lashes flutter. “you can touch me.”
and zuko—with a lump in his throat & an ache in his ribs—is only a man so who is he to refuse? he guides your left boob out of your bikini top, your nipple flushed & perky & glistening in the wet.
zuko moans. “oh.”
you press yourself against him as he fondles, thumb brushing over the pebbled peak. zuko is entranced. you can tell by his short breaths & his hips arching forward so you can rut against him more easily. his jaw ticks whenever your clothed pussy frots against his hard cock.
“f-fuck…”
you peer up at him, cheeks pink, lips glossy with steam & bath-house heat. “do you like this?”
you roll your hips into his cock, hard. “hnngg—yeah.”
lord zuko is cute. cheeks flushed, lips sticky. you slide your panties away in the pool & the warm water shocks your pussy. zuko tugs your bikini top away & pops a tit into his mouth. “ah—zuko!”
he sucks on your nipple, tongue swirling over the bud, mouth warm & sticky with want. you gasp into his neck as your hands find his hair, tugging as your hips jerk into him. fuck.
you’re grinding against him now, hips rolling, because this is all you’ve ever wanted served on a silver platter. his palm dips to cup your wet pussy. “zuko!”
“hrmm?”
his voice is strangled against your chest. his hand is moving now, thumb brushing your clit as he cups your pussy in his palm. your thighs are flushed & aching, trembling in the heat. your hips buck into his warm hand.
his pops his mouth off your tit to rest his chin on your chest. his eyes are bleary & lust glazed beneath his lashes. his finger curls into your cunt. “hah—feels good—“ he rasps, lips wet “—like this?”
“yes—!” he pumps into your throbbing folds. “mhm—! feels good!”
his head falls heavy between your breasts. he’s panting but his fingers are still going, knuckles deep & pumping into your folds. your pussy clenches around him. he licks a stripe up your flushed tit.
but zuko is hard, ridiculously hard, & you can’t pretend you don’t see him in the water—tip flushed, precum leaking into the bath. oh fuck.
“zuko,” your voice is a strangled as you cup your palm around his dick. “want you—“
zuko flinches. your thumb is already on the slit of his cockhead, rubbing his slick precum over the flushed tip. his body twitches. “ah, wait—“
it’s too late for the fire lord. you’re already guiding his cock to your pussy lips, smearing him all over your clit. your hips shiver as he groans, palm digging into your ass as his head lolls back before falling into your neck. his face is entirely flushed, lips swollen from sucking on your nipples, but his left hand still crawls up to grope your breast as you guide yourself onto his cock.
“ohhh—”
you groan as he pushes inside you. it’s obscene, really. your fleshy walls squelching as it sucks in his cock. your hips roll gently & zuko responds with a grunt before cupping your hips & easing himself even deeper.
“so—tight,” he grits his teeth. “why are you so—tight?”
it’s hard to answer when he’s balls deep, cock thrusting in & out, so you make a strangled noise instead. and zuko looks too pretty like this—sweat-soaked & feverish & fucking you like it’s all he’s ever wanted. you’re half-devil / half-girl so you cup his jaw. before he can blink you’re cocking your head to press your lips to his own.
his cock twitches inside you, hard. he bucks into you again before he groans & shivers and moans into your mouth. you swallow his tongue, sloppy & messy against yours.
“y/n—m’gonna—“
“inside,” you gasp between his lips. “want you inside!”
his cock spurts into your folds, cum white & hot & sticky. your walls shiver & squelch with each gush of his seed, & your hips buck as your pussy clenches to swallow his cum. your cunt sputters & aches, pleasure fanning over you as you come. your body falls limp against his chest.
the bath house air is a mess of heat & breathless gasps.
you’re still pressed against him, tits smushed into his chest, nipples somehow still pebbled & aching.
zuko dips his head into your shoulder. then he turns so his lashes flutter open & his eyes peer up at yours. his cheeks are flushed. his breath is ragged & his shoulders are shuddering.
“i…i’m sorry, i—“
“you were so good, lord zuko,” you rasp, still breathless, fingers threading through his hair. “hah—felt so good.”
zuko only grips your hips tighter, head rolling back into your neck. you leave a kiss in his hair & pray he doesn’t notice.
WEEK FOUR : #WEDDING BELLS !
“your husband’s been pacing for like, an hour. thinks you’ll change your mind.”
you’re seated at your vanity with a veil in your hair & cheeks red-tinged. behind you, connie springer is on your bed with a cookie in his teeth & a bra in his hands. you don’t ask him where he got it from. you just pray it isn’t yours.
you turn your head to meet his eyes. there are crumbs sticky on his cheek. “why would i do that?”
connie shrugs, tosses the bra into a corner. “beats me.” he looks you up & down—your wedding dress frilly & white around your hips, pearls braided into your hair. he takes another bite of his cookie. “damn. you clean up nice.”
“thank you, constance.”
“sis. don’t try me.”
connie stretches before hopping off your bed, then pats your hair. you’re looking at each other through the mirror now, and connie smiles.
“he’s nervous—i would be too, y’know,” his grin is toothy. “you’re a stunner.”
“connie springer. are you flirting with me on my wedding day? as the fire lord’s wife i could have your head.”
connie sticks his tongue out in the mirror. “girl, fuck you and your man.”
you gasp as connie chuckles, patting your head affectionately. “come on, it’s about time you get married.” he holds out his arm, elbow bent towards you.
“shall we?”
——
the venue is gorgeous.
there are more roses hung in the air than you can count. the birds are chirping, the sun is bright, and the bouquet in your arms is heavy & beautiful.
zuko is even more beautiful.
or pretty—or handsome—it doesn’t matter. his hair is tied low on his back & his palms curl so hard you’re scared he might bleed. his neck is flushed but his eyes are warm & you already want to kiss him breathless.
“um, i’m not good at speeches,” zuko breathes. you cock your head at him, lashes fluterring, lips glossy & so pretty he thinks it actually hurts.
zuko swallows. “i remember these last three weeks,” he clears his throat. “—paying attention to you a lot.” you bite your cheek to hide your giggle. “you were always around. doing strange things like dropping your robe,” his cheeks flush. “you were very pretty.”
your heart aches.
“and,” he continues, swallowing. “i think i wanted you since the first time i saw you lined up with the other women.” his palm curls in a soft fist. “i remember thinking, why should a woman like you be reduced to competing for my affections?”
he blinks, as if catching himself. “uh—no disrespect to the other ladies. all very talented and lovely women. i don’t agree with concubine culture at all, really.”
you laugh, and the sound melts his chest. the audience laughs along, fond.
zuko’s cheeks flush, embarassed. he can barely keep his gaze on you now, not when your lashes are fluttering & you’re smiling up at him so sweetly. he sucks air into his chest. “i’m happy you want me.”
you don’t wait for the officiant. you kiss him senseless.
the audience roars. children are singing. the elders are laughing. the concubines are cheering your name. connie has left his guard post to yell “fuck yeah!” among the crowd. your heart swells in your chest.
zuko pulls away, voice soft, lips brushing against yours.
“i think today is the happiest day of my life.”
you can hardly let your smile stretch before kissing him again.
⋆ৡ ⋆˚࿔ fire lord zuko who can't leave his pregnant wife alone
the idea of being a father always terrified zuko. he was always worried he would be just like his old man—strict, demanding, and... everything zuko didn't want to be.
but the minute you—his wife—started growing a little baby bump and showing more symptoms, it was like all doubts were thrown out the window. he was fully prepared for fatherhood, and he was facing it head on.
maybe almost suffocatingly so.
"sweetheart, please don't worry about dinner tonight. i'll have a chef cook something for us."
"what are you doing out in the gardens without supervision, my love? you should've called for me."
"i have cancelled the council meeting. i want to spend time with you and the baby."
at first, it was endearing seeing your husband be so fond and careful toward you and little izumi growing in your belly. but then it started morphing to the point where you were seen as completely helpless—unable to do things on your own. and right now, it was feeding yourself.
zuko was hovering a silver spoon over your lips, saying "aahh" and beckoning you to open your mouth for him like a toddler.
"are you kidding me, zuko?" you sighed, grabbing the spoon out of his hands. "i can feed myself just fine."
"no!" zuko snatched it right back. "let me take care of you, my love. please. you don't need to strain yourself when i'm here. and then after dinner, i'll massage your feet. it's good for the baby—"
"zuko, enough," you stopped him gently, a small, sympathetic smile on your lips. "i'll be alright, okay? stop treating me like i'm fragile. i can take care of myself."
zuko frowned, his shoulders slumping. "i know, but..."
"stop," you interrupted him with a shake of your head, lifting your own spoon and swallowing the soup yourself. without his help. "if i say i can take care of myself, then you have to believe me. if i need you, i'll always make sure to call you. you know that."
zuko searched your face, trying to make sense of it—trying to believe you.
if there was anyone who could convince the fire lord of something, or knock him down a few pegs, it was you: his pregnant wife.
with a reluctant sigh, he finally gave in. "fine," he mumbled. "but i'm still massaging your feet later."
