— adult!zuko x reader. the dangers of sharing a tent with your boyfriend after a mission. | wc: 606
cw: smut, risky/public-adjacent situation, teasing, praise, hand over mouth, teeth grazing, mdni.
Zuko’s chest pressed against your back inside the cramped tent, the canvas walls doing nothing to block out the camp outside. His forearm slid under your neck, pinning you close, while his other hand glided down your side, leaving a wake of searing heat along your ribs.
The faint scent of crushed iris petals clung to the rough blanket beneath you, mixing with the sharp, green bite of strawberry leaves sticking to his skin from the trek back.
He nudged his cock between your thighs, the blunt heat of him finding your entrance.
“Zuko—“
“Shhh.”
With an unhasty push, he sank into you. The sudden fullness drew a shaky breath from both of your lungs. His hips rolled forward, each movement agonizingly committed, thick as he rode along your inner walls before withdrawing almost entirely. After the razor-thin margin of the mission, the sheer survival adrenaline was mutating into something dangerous, making the friction of his skin feel magnified tenfold.
Your fingers curled into the edge of the blanket.
Outside, footsteps crunched on dirt, faint voices from the surrounding tents flowed closer. Zuko’s breath scalded the back of your neck as he buried his face there, his teeth grazing your skin, testing the boundary of a bite.
The pressure built too fast. You let out a ragged sigh that caught on the edge of a moan as you clamped tight around him, desperate to swallow every inch of the next stroke.
“Come on,” he whispered the complaint against your throat. “They’re right outside…”
His free hand slid down between your thighs, his palm cupping you, his fingers slicking over your clit to mirror the torturous pace of his hips. Your hand tangled into his hair, pulling hard enough to root him there, the scorching urge to scream building behind your ribs. The wet, rhythmic slip of skin on skin was barely louder than the rustle of the travel mat beneath you, but every micro-shift felt deafening. Another weak sound split your lips.
"Bury your face," he mumbled against your skin. His jaw was locked, the muscles in his shoulders taut with the effort of keeping his pace measured when his pulse was clearly racing. "If you make a sound, I have to stop. And I really, really don't want to stop…”
He kept the depth exact, rocking forward until he was seated fully against you, pausing to let the ache build before sliding out again. Every long plunge sent sparks up your spine. His finger pressing just enough to make your thighs shudder.
You whimpered, your head tossing back against his shoulder. “I can’t…”
“Yes, you can. Just breathe. Let me take care of it."
Sweat gathered where your bodies locked together. Zuko’s hand left your center to grip the bone of your hip, his fingers digging in to hold you steady as he drove in deeper.
A loud sound threatened to rip from your throat. A reckless, desperate wave crashed over you…
You didn’t care if the canvas ripped, you didn’t care if the whole camp walked in, as long as he didn't pull away. You needed the ruin of it. You needed him to keep moving.
Sense left you, your hips rolling back against his in an open invitation to get caught.
“You’re killing me…” Zuko breathed.
His palm covered your mouth, firm enough to smother the high cry that followed his next deep and unraveled thrust.
“Bite down if you need to,” he said against the shell of your ear, his control cracking as his hips finally lost their cadence, driving into you with a hard desperation that matched your own. “Just don't make a sound…”
note: just felt like writing something quick. and spicy. and i was listening to ‘so high school’ by Taylor while i practiced vocabulary expansion, so why not. xx
Zuko steps into his royal chamber, powerful hands pushing at the door wide open till the hinges groan. Sweat beads at his temple, wet, clammy breaths escaping his parted lips. Hes so hot he could burn anything and everything within 10 meters vicinity from his internal inferno alone.
You flinch at his sudden burst, quick to look over your shoulders to gauge the situation. There stands Zuko in the middle of his enormous, pristine room – thanks to your excessive cleaning you were in the middle of preforming – clawing at his robes, fingers fiddling impatiently with the knots at his belt.
“My lord, may I be of assistance?” you flat servant-shoes plip plap over to a distressed looking Zuko, your fingers take hold of the stubbornly tight knots, slowly working them loose. The inner corners of his eyebrows pinch higher up than the rest, peeing down at you with that confusing expression of his.
Sighing shakily, he takes a slow step backwards, away from you. “Prepare me my ice bath. I-I’ll deal with the rest myself” His reassurance falls onto deaf ears, barely believable and too unsure to count as one.
Closing that minuscule space he created between you with a cautious step forward, you reach for his clothes again. Fingers gripping the edges of his robes he wears to the royal council, you tug softly, coaxing them off.
His breath hitches slightly; Zuko was quick to swallow up the rest of the sounds threatening to spill out of him as one side of his robe rolls off his shoulder.
“No-… I-I need you to go.” A loose hair strand falls out of place, sticking to his hot forehead, eyes equally as sticky in the way they track yours.
Hot blood pumps rapidly around in his system, confusing him beyond comprehension. Your touch is warm, hot against his even hotter – near flammable skin.
This is too dangerous. Hes a Firelord, for Gods sake.
Hes stopped wars, and solved the problems the royal council came with before. Hes faced his father himself before – yet he doesn’t know how to stay away from what burns him the most.
With a draw of hot, equally as clammy air as the one that currently fills his lungs, he manages to stumble a step backwards again, kindles of fire tingling his knuckles.
“Now” He may have meant for it to sound like an order. Instead, it came out more as a plead than anything commanding. A hot breath or a whisper at best. Something closer to ‘please’.
……..……..
Smal, orange feet swim over to you where you’re sitting by the edge of the pond, Zuko closely by your side.
“Don’t be frightened. Hold your hand out for them” He demonstrates, three tiny turtleducks rushing their small, webbed feet towards his hand, prying at the crushed peanuts cupped in his palm.
You watch in awe, lips parting as your gaze flickers between the eager turtleducks and the serene expression falling on Zuko’s face. The way the sun catches his crown makes it glow like a live flame atop his head, further reminding you who you’re dealing with.
He notices your eyes lingering on the side of his face, turning to meet your eyes. Your gaze quickly falls to his long fingers clean of all duck food.
“Here, let me show you” He turns towards you, taking your hand in his some of the crushed peanuts he had the palace chef prepare in the other. Your face burns hot at the improper contact, silently watching him pour some in your palm.
Innocent and gentle; frighteningly sweet, albeit still improper between two of your social standings.
“Now, reach for them so they reach for you back” He guides with his hand, his voice melodic. You never see him this relaxed within the palace walls. Maybe that’s why he keeps stepping out to his private garden – requesting you along.
Shifting slightly so he’s closer beside you, he leans in, placing your hand above the water by a hairs width. You beam at the turtleducks tickling your fingers, their beak’s nipping at the food.
You giggle, leaning away, your shoulders brushing against his, the side of your body accidently pressing into his. But your too engrossed in the sweet moment to notice that and react to it yet.
Zuko seems to notice, however, and takes full advantage of it.
Leaning in, he forces you to stay close to the pond with his chest as a barricade behind you. “Don’t shy away, their beaks are gentle” He reassures, a hint of a smile dancing around in his tone.
You turn to look at him over your shoulders, his face far too close. “It tickles!” you giggle, his fingers tightening securely around yours, keeping your palm open for the turtleducks to feed at.
He’s basking in the warmth of your against him, enjoying the few moments he has last before you realize how close you’ve gotten and switch back to your ‘proper servant’ role once more.
……..……..
Walking to a secluded area within Zukos private royal garden spanning acres upon acres, you dare enough to skim one, singular finger along the soft, new bristles of evergreens.Slow, savoring the feeling along your skin. The line of trees grew taller and denser the father you walked, until tall, soft walls of evergreen surrounded you like walls.
Until you were completely surrounded by impenetrable walls of evergreen. From all sides, like a maze.
“Oh?” Zuko didn’t seem to pause, just continued walking despite his initial intruige and confusion. You’ve heard about a maze the former Firelord had presented for his Firelady. It was rumored a way to prove devotion and deep love by escaping this maze together.
“My lord, where would you like to walk today?” You try your way at an indirect question wrapped as catering to the whims of royalty, eyes frantically moving around the place covered in all green with some occasional flowers in all various colors along the way.
“I intend to explore this place. I should know about the maze in my own garden, after all” the words slip out of him, all smooth – too smooth, even.
You walk along, your eyes on full alert to any possible exists. But all you see is green blurring into more green. At every twist and turn, you either circle back to the same spot you came from, or you hit a dead end.
“Hmm, this proved harder than I thought” His calm tone came again, his hands tucked int ohis long sleeves, posture too relaxed considering how much time you’ve spent inside this maze by now.
“I’ve seen this same fountain 9 different times by now, my lord” you huff under your breath, a complaint posed to the Firelord himself.
He only smiles to himself in response, proceeding to turn around into a different direction with you in tow. Completely carefree.
“You can handle a few more hours in my presence, right?” He says, looking over his shoulder at you, as if he didn’t just spot the orange flowers at the bottom of the maze walls. Turning away from where he was heading, he ushers you down a path with pink flowers instead.
One that will take a much longer time to exist out of.
……..……..
taglist is open! reposts are veryyyy apppreciated as they keep this post alive! MWAH
(‘they fade to nothing when i look at him.’ — part two. Part one here but can be read as a standalone.)
adult zuko x reader nsfw | smut | minors dni. | 4,4k
summary: in which a royal banquet, one harmless dance, and far too many thoughts in his own head send Fire Lord Zuko spiraling straight into the throne room, where his wife reminds him (very thoroughly) that he is loved and worthy.
content: fire lord adult!zuko x fire lady reader, mentions of the gaang featuring sokka, explicit sexual content [throne room spice! oral (m receiving), p in v, zuko steaming], hurt/comfort, jealousy, praise kink if you squint. not proofread we die like men.
note: took time but here it is! (and it’s long ish so hope you enjoy).
𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
The palace ballroom blazed with warmth.
Great bronze braziers lined the lacquered walls, their flames curling gold and vermilion toward painted ceilings where dragons danced through clouds of incense smoke. Crimson lanterns drifted overhead like captive suns, swaying gently in the heated air as nobles, diplomats, and generals moved across the polished floors in shimmering silks and jeweled armor. Laughter rose above the music; low strings accompanied by the soft pulse of Fire Nation drums; and every surface seemed to glow beneath the firelight.
It should have felt triumphant.
Instead, your husband looked exhausted.
From across the ballroom, you watched Zuko endure yet another conversation with members of the council, his posture rigid beneath ceremonial robes of deep crimson and black. One advisor spoke while another waited impatiently beside him, parchment already in hand, and though Zuko nodded at all the appropriate moments, you knew him well enough to recognize the signs.
The tightness in his jaw, the restless flex of his fingers at his side, the distant look in his eyes, as though part of him remained trapped inside the council chambers several floors away.
You didn’t like that at all. The celebration had barely begun, and already the throne was pulling him under.
You exhaled softly into your cup of spiced wine.
The night had been intended as something lighter: a gathering honoring renewed alliances between the nations, with old friends invited to the palace for the first time in months. Aang had arrived laughing loud enough to startle the turtleducks in the garden ponds. Katara had spent nearly an hour gently bullying the palace cooks into sharing recipes. Even Toph looked vaguely pleased to be there, though she would rather die than admit it aloud.
But Zuko had scarcely left the council’s side all evening. And every time he tried, another noble stopped him.
“Well,” a familiar voice drawled beside you, “you look one minor inconvenience away from committing treason.”
You startled slightly before snorting into your cup.
Sokka stood at your side wearing formal Southern Water Tribe robes trimmed in blue fur and silver beadwork, though the illusion of dignity was somewhat ruined by the fact that he was balancing three skewers of roasted shrimp in one hand.
“You realize,” you said, “that as Fire Lady, I technically decide what counts as treason.”
“Excellent,” Sokka replied. “Then I’m safe.”
You rolled your eyes, though amusement tugged at your mouth.
“I do not look that miserable, by the way.”
Sokka followed your gaze across the ballroom toward Zuko, currently trapped between two ministers and an elderly noble waving a scroll with alarming intensity.
He grimaced.
“Okay, maybe not miserable,” he amended. “More like you’re deciding whether to rescue your husband or mercy-kill him.”
“I’m considering both.”
“That’s the spirit.”
Sokka tossed back the last shrimp before leaning closer.
“I tried talking to him earlier.”
“And?”
“I asked how the banquet was going.” He paused. “He stared directly into my soul for a concerning amount of time.”
You laughed softly.
“Then one of the ministers cornered me and spent ten minutes explaining harbor infrastructure.”
“That doesn’t sound so terrible.”
Sokka looked genuinely offended.
“They had diagrams.”
That finally broke you into real laughter.
Several nearby nobles glanced over in surprise at the sound.
Across the ballroom, Zuko’s gaze lifted immediately at the sound.
Your eyes meeting for only a moment.
Something in his expression softened instantly at the sight of you smiling, almost imperceptible, but before he could move toward you, another councilman stepped into his path, speaking urgently into his ear.
You saw the exact second irritation settled back across his features like a mask.
Sokka followed your gaze and grimaced. “Yikes. He’s got that look again.”
“What look?”
“The ‘I haven’t slept properly in three weeks and I’m two seconds from firebending someone through a wall’ look.”
You huffed another laugh, quieter this time.
Sokka, looking pleased with himself, offered you an exaggerated bow, nearly losing another shrimp skewer in the process. Hand extended at your direction.
“Come dance with me, Your Ladyship, before another government official corners me and starts talking about grain exports. I survived the war. I will not survive Fire Nation economics.”
A reluctant smile pulled at your lips.
After one last glance toward your husband, you placed your hand in Sokka’s.
“Would be my pleasure, Sokka.”
The music shifted into something livelier.
Sokka pulled you effortlessly into the moving crowd, spinning you beneath the glow of light with far more enthusiasm than technical skill. He nearly missed a step twice within the first minute, muttering dramatic curses beneath his breath each time while you laughed hard enough for your shoulders to shake.
For the first time all evening, the knot in your chest loosened, and heat of the ballroom no longer felt suffocating.
For a few precious moments, you were not the Fire Lady. Just yourself.
And across the room, Zuko watched it happen.
Another advisor was speaking to him; something about shipping routes near the western colonies; but the words had long since dissolved into meaningless noise. His attention remained fixed entirely on you, on the way you had a certain brightness in your face, the way laughter transformed you, and on Sokka’s hand resting at your waist as he spun you beneath the firelight.
Jealousy struck so suddenly it almost made him recoil from himself.
Spirits. He hated this feeling.
Sokka was his friend. One of his oldest friends. There was nothing inappropriate in the dance, nothing secretive or cruel. And yet, something sharp twisted beneath Zuko’s ribs anyway.
Because you looked… happy.
His throat tightened.
Your hair had started to come loose from its pins during the third turn of the dance. A strand now framed your face, shifting every time you smiled.
You had not noticed, but he had, of course he had.
The councilman beside him continued talking, but Zuko heard none of it. Instead, another thought crept quietly into the silence of his mind, ugly and venomous.
‘She deserves someone better at this than you. Someone present. Someone lighter. Someone who does not come home carrying an entire nation on his shoulders… and is not good enough at it.’
“Fire Lord—?”
Zuko turned abruptly, making the councilman falter.
“I’ll review the reports tomorrow,” Zuko said flatly.
Without waiting for a response, he strode from the ballroom. The palace corridors were quieter beyond the celebration, though distant music still echoed faintly through the stone halls. Servants bowed quickly as he passed, but Zuko barely registered them. His pulse hammered uncomfortably beneath his skin, heat curling restlessly at the edges of his control.
By the time he reached the throne room, his chest felt unbearably tight. The massive doors groaned open, and darkness swallowed him whole.
Only the eternal flame burned within the cavernous chamber, casting amber light across black stone and towering dragon pillars. Shadows stretched long behind the throne atop the dais, enormous enough to consume him entirely.
Some nights, Zuko thought the palace still remembered every Fire Lord that had ruled before him. Including the monsters.
His footsteps echoed heavily as he climbed the dais and sank onto the throne. It felt more sharp-edged and rigid this time, built for authority rather than rest. Perfectly suited for a crown that never allowed weakness.
Zuko leaned forward slowly, elbows braced against his knees, one hand dragging down his face.
He stayed that way for several long minutes, until the doors creaked open again.
Soft footsteps approached across stone.
“Zuko?”
Your voice gentled immediately upon seeing him there.
You crossed the throne room carefully, concern overtaking the remnants of amusement still lingering from the dance.
“What happened?” you asked quietly. “You disappeared.”
“I’m fine.”
You stopped directly before him. “Zuko.”
“I said I’m fine,” his tone sharper than intended.
Instant regret flickered across his face, but exhaustion swallowed it before he could apologize.
You studied him silently for a moment. Then your gaze drifted to the way his hands gripped the armrests hard enough for his knuckles to pale.
“They said something to you tonight,” you realized out loud.
Zuko laughed once beneath his breath, humorless.
“When don’t they?”
You stepped closer. “What did they say?”
His jaw tightened slightly before he finally spoke.
“That my father would never have allowed the Earth Kingdom to dictate negotiations.”
Bitterness roughened his voice.
“That he would’ve reminded the other nations what happens when they mistake kindness for weakness. They think I’m too diplomatic.” He stared somewhere past you, eyes dark in the firelight. “In other words: too weak to be Fire Lord.”
“That isn’t true.”
“It doesn’t matter if it’s true.” His voice cracked slightly. “They still think it.”
The brazier behind the throne flared suddenly, flames surging higher with the spike of emotion he failed to contain.
“And then I looked up,” he continued more quietly, “and you were dancing with Sokka.”
Silence settled carefully between you.
“You looked happy,” he spoke, more in confession than accusation.
Zuko swallowed hard, gaze fixed downward.
“Zuko—”
“I know it was stupid.” The words came faster now, rough and fraying at the edges. “I know Sokka wasn’t doing anything wrong, but I just—” He exhaled sharply, frustrated with himself. “I looked at you and all I could think was that he still knows how to pull people out of their own heads. He walks into a room and somehow everyone breathes easier. And lately I feel like every time I open my mouth, I’m either negotiating a treaty or disappointing someone.”
Your breath caught.
“Zuko…”
He shook his head before you could continue.
“We laugh,” he said quietly, almost desperate to clarify it. “You make me laugh more than anyone. But tonight I realized I can’t remember the last time I let myself relax long enough to enjoy it.”
His shoulders stiffened beneath the weight of the admission.
“The council, the colonies, the negotiations…” His jaw flexed hard. “Every single day someone is waiting for me to fail. And I keep thinking if I stop paying attention for one second, I’ll become him.”
Ozai.
The name remained unspoken.
“I thought maybe… eventually you’d get tired of dragging me back out of my own head.”
Slowly, you stepped onto the dais, not toward the Fire Lord, but towards your husband.
Your hands rose, skipping his face all the way to the golden crown resting upon his head.
Zuko froze.
Carefully and gently, you lifted it from his head, his bun falling and making his hair loose.
The moment the weight disappeared, his shoulders sagged as though he had been holding up the palace itself.
You set the crown aside and cupped his face. His eyes shut immediately at the touch.
“Look at me,” you whispered.
His gaze rose to yours.
“You are nothing like your father. You worry about becoming him because you possess something he never did.” Your thumb brushed gently across his scarred cheek. “Compassion.”
Zuko’s breath shuddered unevenly.
“You ended a war that lasted a century,” you continued softly. “And then you rebuilt a nation raised on violence. You carry people who once hated you on your shoulders every day and still choose kindness anyway.”
Emotion burned visibly behind his golden eyes.
“And yes,” you murmured, “I laughed with Sokka tonight. But not because he’s better at loving me than you are. Zuko… I married the man who accidentally set his own sleeve on fire trying to impress me on our third date.”
A startled breath escaped him.
“I married the man who sneaks turtleduck food into the royal gardens after every banquet because he claims they ‘look judgmental when they’re hungry.’ Which is very cute, by the way.”
The corner of his mouth twitched despite himself.
Encouraged, your thumb brushed softly along the scarred side of his cheek.
“The man who laughs so hard at his own jokes he can barely finish telling them.”
“That happened once.”
“Three times and counting, Zu.”
A quiet huff of reluctant amusement finally left him.
The man you loved peeked through the weight on his shoulders. Warmth spread through you at the sight of it.
“I don’t care if Sokka can make an entire room laugh,” you continued. “Because at the end of the night, he still isn’t you.”
The exhaustion, the fear, the desperate need for reassurance he’d been trying to bury finally surfaced in his eyes.
“You don’t have to be perfect every second of the day for me to love you,” you continued softly. “You don’t have to perform being strong until you forget how to breathe.”
His hands slid slowly to your waist.
“And you are allowed to be tired,” you murmured. “You are allowed to let me carry some of this with you. Remember?”
Zuko’s eyes fluttered shut briefly.
“Spirits,” he whispered roughly. “What did I do to deserve you?”
“You loved me. You loved me so gently that I forgot what it felt like to be afraid of love.”
Silence settled between you again, intimate and tender despite the vastness of the throne room. Your fingers combed softly through the dark strands resting against his neck. Zuko inhaled sharply.
“Come here,” you said under your breath.
He did immediately.
Zuko melted into the kiss with a shaky breath, his hands tightening instinctively at your waist as though anchoring himself there.
The kiss deepened slowly after that, lingering and warm, until his forehead dropped against yours and you felt the first real breath he’d taken all evening leave his lungs. His eyes remained half-lidded, dazed warmth softening the sharp lines of his face.
You brushed another kiss against the corner of his mouth. Then another against his jaw. And another beneath his ear.
Zuko shivered beneath you.
“What are you doing?” he asked hoarsely as your lips traced slowly down the line of his throat.
A faint smile curved against his skin. “Reminding you,” you simply said. “Of who you are.”
Your hands moved to the fastenings of his robes, working them loose with practiced familiarity as heavy silk slipped from his shoulders beneath the glow of the firelight.
Zuko watched you the entire time, almost disbelieving. As if he could not understand how someone could look at him with this much tenderness after witnessing every fractured part of him.
“And what’s that?” he asked quietly.
You looked up at him, your fingers smoothing over the scars scattered across his chest- not hiding from them.
“A good man,” you whispered, his breath caught sharply.
Your lips brushed against one old scar near his collarbone.
“A stubborn one.”
Another kiss against his sternum.
“A man who carries far too much by himself.”
The hand at your waist trembled faintly.
Your eyes lifted back to his.
“And mine,” you finished softly, feeling the rapid flutter of his pulse beneath your lips.
Without hesitation, you sank to your knees before him, and the sight of you there- crowned, beautiful, devoted- drew a sound from his throat that was half sob, half groan. His hands came to rest on your shoulders, not to stop you, but to steady himself.
“You don’t have to—” he started.
“I want to, if you allow me,” you said, looking up at him, your eyes meeting his. “Let me take care of you, Zuko. Just for a little while. Let me remind you now of how worthy you are, just like you did for me.”
He nodded, his throat too tight for words.
Your fingers found the ties of his trousers, loosening them, and he lifted his hips to help you slide them down. His cock sprang free, already half-hard, and you wrapped your hand around its length with a reverence that made his breath catch.
You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the tip, your tongue darting out to taste him. He moaned, his hips twitching.
“I love you,” you said, your voice low and fervent as you began to stroke him with a hard grip. “I love everything about you. The way you frown when you’re thinking. The way you laugh when you’re truly happy. The way you hold me at night like you’re afraid I’ll disappear…”
You took him into your mouth.
The sensation drew a desperate groan from deep in his chest, his hands tangling in your hair. You moved slowly at first, your tongue tracing the length of him, your lips suctioning with a practiced rhythm.
“You’re so good,” he gasped, his voice broken. “So good.”
You hummed around him, the vibration making his back arch, a low, guttural sound tearing from his throat. You pulled back just long enough to speak, your breath hot against his slick skin.
“Most men would let this throne turn them cruel,” you said, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss against the inside of his thigh, as your hand continued its steady, languorous stroke along his length. “But you fight every day to remain gentle.”
His fingers tightened sharply in your hair, a possessive anchor as your lips moved, brushing against the flushed, swollen head of his cock. You let your tongue circle the tip, tasting the first pearly bead of pre-cum, salt and heat and him.
“Spirits, Zuko… I wish you could see yourself the way I do.”
You took him deeper then, your lips sliding down his shaft with a wet, obscene sound. Your tongue worked the underside, tracing the ridge of veins, flattening and pressing as you moved. Your hand cupped his balls, gentle but firm, feeling them tighten in your palm as he bucked into your mouth, a string of curses falling from his lips like a prayer.
"I… I don't deserve you," he breathed again, his voice fraying at the edges, cracking.
You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your lips still shiny, your eyes dark with devotion. Your hand never stopped moving, stroking him firmly, the sound of your palm sliding over his wet skin filling the quiet throne room.
"Zuko," you said, pulling off with a wet, lingering pop, your thumb brushing over his slit. His name alone stopped him, held him suspended in your gaze. "Why do you keep talking like loving you is some kind of sacrifice?"
Without waiting for an answer, you lowered your head again. You opened your throat, taking him to the root, feeling the soft resistance of your throat adjusting, yielding to accommodate him. He cried out in a broken, desperate sound, his hips thrusting upward instinctively as you swallowed around him, your throat muscles working to ease the intrusion. Your hands gripped his thighs, nails digging into the firm muscle to steady him once again.
The minutes blurred into a haze of wet heat and ragged breath. You lost yourself in the rhythm of it: the way his cock slid over your tongue, the way his breath hitched when you sucked hard on the upstroke, the way his fingers twisted in your hair, pulling just shy of pain. You hollowed your cheeks, you took him deep again and again until his thighs trembled against your palms, until his moans turned into pleas.
“Wait,” he said.
But before he could finish, before he could spill into your mouth, he grabbed you under your arms and pulled you upward, lifting you as if you weighed nothing, and then you were straddling his lap, your robes pooling around you both in a river of silk and shadow.
“I want to feel you,” he explained, his voice rough with need, his golden eyes dark with something fierce and possessive. “I want to be inside you when I come.”
You didn’t argue. You couldn’t. The look in his eyes stole your words, turned your thoughts to molten honey.
You reached down, hitching your robes up around your hips, baring yourself to him completely. Your hand wrapped around his cock, guiding it, pressing the slick head against your entrance. The contact made you both moan in a low, harmonized sound that echoed against the stone walls. You sank down slowly, inch by agonizing inch, feeling every ridge, every throb of his length as it filled you. The stretch burned in the most exquisite way, and then you were seated, his hips flush against yours, buried deep inside you.
For a moment, you just sat there, breathing together, forehead pressed against his, noses brushing. The firelight flickered, and you felt him pulse inside you, felt the weight of him, the heat of him, the connection that sparked between you.
“I love you,” you whispered, your lips grazing his.
“I love you more,” he replied, his voice breaking like a wave against a cliff.
You began to move.
The throne creaked beneath you as you rode him, your hips rising and falling in a rhythm that was both desperate and tender. His hands found your waist, gripping the curve, his thumbs digging into your hip bones as he helped you set the pace, guiding you, urging you. The light painted your skin in shades of amber and gold, casting your intertwined shadows against the walls in a dance as old as time itself.
You rolled your hips, grinding down on each downward stroke, making him gasp. He thrust up to meet you, his movements growing harder, more urgent. The sound of wet skin slapping filled the space, punctuated by your shared moans and the crackling of the fire. Sweat glistened on his chest, on your collarbones, mixing with the salt of your kisses.
“I can’t believe it still,” he whispered desperately, the words punched out with each thrust. “You’re mine.”
“Always,” you breathed back immediately, your nails raking down his back, leaving pink trails on his skin.
He thrust up into you, meeting your movements with a force that drove you both toward the edge.
His mouth found yours, kissing you with a passion that bordered on desperation, his tongue sliding against yours.
"I'm close," he ground out, his forehead pressed hard against yours. "I'm so close—"
"Then come," you breathed against his lips. "Come for me, Zuko."
His eyes snapped open, and the flames in the braziers roared.
Fire erupted from the wall sconces in twin jets of orange and gold, shooting higher than any natural flame should reach. The hearth behind the throne surged, flames licking at the air as if hungry as if alive.
He thrust up into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt, and then he was coming.
Steam curled off his skin in ghostly tendrils, rising from his shoulders, his chest, his arms- wherever he touched you, wherever your sweat mingled with his. The heat radiating from him intensified until it felt like you were wrapped in the breath of a dragon. His cock pulsed inside you, hot seed flooding you in wave after wave, and with each spasm, another burst of flame erupted around the room. Even the torches along the hallway beyond the throne room flickered in sympathetic rhythm.
You clenched around him, your own orgasm ripping through you, and his flames answered with a ring of fire encircling the throne, a protective, possessive halo of heat and light that flared and died as your climax subsided.
He collapsed against the throne's back, pulling you with him, his arms wrapped around you so tightly you could feel his heart hammering against your ribs.
Steam still rose from his skin in lazy curls.
The flames around you settled, returning to their gentle crackle, but the air still shimmered with residual heat.
You collapsed against him, your heart pounding against his, your breath mingling with his in the quiet aftermath.
Gradually, your breathing slowed together.
Beyond the closed doors of the throne room, faint music still drifted through the palace corridors: the distant pulse of drums, the echo of laughter, the celebration carrying on without you.
Zuko sat with you curled against his chest, your fingers tracing lazy patterns along the scar beneath his collarbone while his arms remained wrapped tightly around you, unwilling to let go just yet.
The crown still rested abandoned several feet away where you had set it aside.
Zuko stared at it for a long moment, then he laughed quietly beneath his breath.
You tilted your head up. “What?”
His thumb brushed slowly along your waist.
“Sokka is never going to let me live this down.”A startled laugh escaped you instantly
“Oh, man,” you groaned. “He definitely noticed you storming out.”
“I didn’t storm out.”
You raised a look.
Zuko sighed.
“Fine. I stormed out a little.”
“A little?”
“The doors were dramatic,” he admitted reluctantly.
Your laughter warmed the entire room this time, full and genuine as ever. Zuko felt something tight in his chest finally loosen at the sound.
His forehead dropped against yours, eyes slipping shut briefly.
“You know,” you murmured, “we could still go back.”
He opened one eye cautiously.
“To the party?”
“Mm.” Your lips curved faintly. “I’m sure the ministers have prepared at least three more speeches by now.”
Zuko looked horrified.
You laughed again.
“Cruel woman.”
“Fire Lady,” you corrected.
Another quiet laugh escaped him, lighter than before.
Zuko held you closer instinctively, his cheek resting against your hair as his gaze drifted across the throne room.
For so many years this place had only ever felt cold, heavy, and lonely to him.
Yet somehow, with you tangled in his arms and your robes pooled together across the ancient throne, it no longer felt like a prison built for Fire Lords.
His thumb brushed absentmindedly along your waist.
“We’re getting dangerously comfortable in this throne room,” he murmured.
You snorted softly against his shoulder. “What can I say? Apparently emotional crises bring out our worst decisions.”
“Mm,” Zuko hummed, his nose brushing lightly against your temple. “Pretty sure making love to my wife is objectively an excellent decision.”
“In the throne room?”
“Especially in the throne room.”
You laughed again, softer this time, and felt the tension finally leave his body completely beneath your hands.
Outside, the celebration still carried on through the palace halls with its music echoing faintly through stone corridors, nobles drinking too much expensive tea, ministers undoubtedly searching for their missing Fire Lord.
Zuko’s arms remained firm around your waist, holding you close against his chest, reluctant to let the world find him again just yet.
“They’re absolutely talking about us,” you whispered.
“Good,” he murmured against your temple. “Maybe they’ll leave me alone tomorrow.”
You smiled, fingers slipping lazily through the loose strands of hair at the nape of his neck. While you sat in his lap, laughing, you reminded him that beneath the crown and the endless expectations, he was still allowed to be loved.
And most importantly, still allowed to be Zuko.
𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹
note: hiii! i hope you liked it :-) tysm for the support on the other part. your comments and reposts and all motivate me a lot. if you have any requests feel free to leave them on my profile. xx
"Where is my niece?" Iroh asks Zuko as he enters his study. He nods slightly at the attendants who bow in greeting. "There’s a new tea shop that opened in the city and I was hoping she'd accompany me."
"She may be feeding the turtle ducks," Zuko replies, reading through some documents. "And she won't be able to go with you today, she promised her afternoon and evening to me."
Iroh raises a brow, noting how Zuko's voice turned slightly childish. It reminds him of back when Zuko was young and a little possessive over the turtle ducks. He'd not allow anyone else near them, only his mother and very rarely, himself.
It's funny to see it now on an adult Zuko, who's a little—very—possessive over his wife and her time.
Iroh contemplates teasing his nephew about it.
"Oh?" He says. "But it'll only be for an hour or so and I know she's been excited to visit this place."
Zuko huffs. "I know. She's been talking about it since you told her." He sighs, lowering the paper in his hands so he can give his uncle his full attention. "You know I love that you and her are close. But let's be realistic, uncle. Your outings last longer than an hour and I probably won't see her until it's time for bed."
"I wouldn't keep her out that long."
Zuko stares at him.
"I promise!" Iroh laughs, amused by his nephew's disgruntled expression. "And you know there's a solution for this."
"And what's that?" Zuko asks, eyeing him warily.
"You can come with us."
"You know I can't," Zuko says, gesturing to all the work before him. "I have a meeting in the early afternoon followed by my counsel and—"
The doors to his study open, revealing a smiling you. Iroh smiles back, casting a glance at Zuko who immediately melts at the sight of you. Oh, he remembers what that was like—being that deeply in love.
"Hey," you greet happily, moving towards Iroh first who accepts the hug you give him. Then you're onto Zuko who stands and reaches for you, his arms locking around your waist as you lean into him, pressing a soft kiss against his scar. "How are my two favourite people doing?"
"Well," Zuko starts. "We were just—"
"—about to head out to the new tea shop that just opened," Iroh interrupts smoothly, ignoring the bewildered look on his nephew's face. "We were coming to look for you right now, actually."
"Oh really?" You ask, brightening up beautifully and turning your sunshine smile to Zuko. "You're coming with us? That's so exciting! We can spend the afternoon together."
"I—" Zuko looks towards Iroh, helpless, as his uncle grins. "I...yes, I'm coming with you."
"Wonderful!" You kiss his scar again and Zuko's melting again. "Let me just go and freshen up a little then we can go."
"We'll be here," Iroh replies, waving as you practically skip out of the room. Then he turns to Zuko. "Well, that was easy, wasn't it?"
"You've got to stop doing that," Zuko bemoans but there's an obvious upward curve to his lips.
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.”
mr big scary let me ask my wife firelord who always has to run things by you not because you’re controlling or demanding but because he wants you to know what he’s doing, wants you to be included and wants you to approve of his decisions because when you’re happy, he’s happy.
“ fire lord zuko, the earth emissary would like to have a dinner. when is suitable for you?”
“let me ask my wife and i’ll get back to you.”
“lord zuko, the festival of fire is coming up, will you be in attendance?”
“not sure. let me ask my wife.”
“sir. the avatar has requested your help. will you be going to lend aid?”
“if my wife grants me permission, yes.”
“my wife said we need more opportunities for women in government. lets look into that.”
“i cannot attend that meeting. i have lunch plans with my wife.”
even when doing the most mundane and tedious things like new gowns or new stationery for royal decrees, you’re there to give your opinion.
“does my wife like it?”
“what does the firelady think?”
“ask my wife, she has the final say. whatever she wants, goes.”
big scary i worship the ground my wife walks on fire lord
The royal dining room smelled like braised komodo turkey, warm spices, and impending chaos. That last ingredient was entirely Sokka’s fault.
He had arrived two days ago under the very reasonable pretense of a “diplomatic visit” which everyone in the palace understood to mean he had eaten all the sea prunes in the South Pole and needed a change of scenery. He had immediately made himself at home in the most aggressively Sokka way possible—reorganizing the palace kitchen’s meat storage, loudly critiquing the royal chefs’ spice choices, and staging what he called a “cultural exchange” that mostly involved teaching three Imperial Guards how to play Pai Sho wrong.
Zuko was handling it with the strained, tight-jawed dignity of a man who genuinely loved his brother-in-arms and also, genuinely, desperately wished he would go home.
You, on the other hand, were having the time of your life.
“The problem,” Sokka announced, gesturing with his chopsticks at nobody in particular, “is that Fire Nation desserts don’t hit right. Too much spice. Not enough—I don’t know—comfort.”
“They’re not supposed to be comfortable,” Zuko said flatly, not looking up from his bowl. “They’re supposed to be refined.”
“Refined.” Sokka repeated it like a curse word. He looked at you across the wide lacquered table. “Y/N, back me up. You’ve eaten in the North. You know what a good dessert tastes like.”
“I’m staying out of this,” you said serenely, pouring yourself a cup of jasmine tea.
“Smart woman.” Zuko reached for his own tea.
“Traitor,” Sokka said to you, but his tone was fond. He jabbed his chopsticks toward the small porcelain dish near the center of the table. It was a delicate Fire Nation layered cake, dark red bean paste between thin sheets of honey sponge, dusted with powdered cinnamon. “I’ll admit, though. That thing looks dangerous. In a good way.”
“It’s yuèbing-style,” you said, leaning forward slightly to inspect it. “Fire Nation adaptation. They bake it with dragon fruit reduction instead of lotus paste.”
Sokka’s eyes lit up with the specific enthusiasm he reserved for food and battle strategy. “Okay. Okay, that sounds incredible, actually—”
“It is,” you confirmed. You picked up a small serving spoon, cut a neat portion, and held it out. Not toward Sokka, but toward the man sitting directly to your left.
Zuko stiffened.
It was a nearly imperceptible thing. A millimeter of tension across his broad shoulders, a slight sharpening of his gaze as it dropped to the spoon now hovering in the space between you. The cake sat there, perfectly portioned, an earnest little offering from his fiancée.
He looked at it. He looked at Sokka, who was watching the exchange with the focused, calculating attention of a man who had once tracked a sea serpent across open water for three days on a bet.
Zuko looked back at the spoon.
“I have my own utensils,” he said.
You blinked. “I know. I’m offering you mine.”
“I can feed myself.”
“Zuko—”
“I’m twenty-eight years old.”
The silence that followed was exquisite. You held his gaze for one long beat. He held it back, expression perfectly composed, jaw set at the precise angle you had privately catalogued as his I am the Fire Lord and I am not flustered, what are you talking about, I am completely fine angle.
You lowered the spoon.
Across the table, Sokka made a sound that wasn’t quite a cough and wasn’t quite a laugh, but existed somewhere in the loaded territory between them. You caught his eye.
Something passed between you. It was wordless, instantaneous, and absolutely damning. It was the specific telepathy that develops between two people who both find the same man endearing in his mortifying stubbornness.
You looked back down at the spoon in your hand. Then, with the serene composure of someone who had absolutely no ulterior motive whatsoever, you turned slightly in your seat and extended the spoon across the table toward Sokka instead.
“Sokka,” you said pleasantly. “Do you want to try it?”
Sokka’s expression went from conspiratorial delight to the studied, innocent blankness of a seasoned chaos agent. He straightened in his seat. He placed a solemn hand over his heart.
“I,” he said gravely, “would be honored.”
He leaned forward. He accepted the spoon. He closed his eyes as he tasted it with the theatrical reverence of a man experiencing a religious event, and then he let out a low, appreciative groan that was at least forty percent louder than necessary.
“Oh,” Sokka breathed. “Oh, that’s—Y/N. Y/N, this is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”
“Isn’t it?” you agreed warmly.
“I might have to move into the Fire Nation palace permanently.”
“We have a lovely east wing.”
“Perfect. I’ll take it.”
The temperature in the dining room had been climbing for approximately twelve seconds. You felt it before you looked. It was the specific, simmering heat that radiated off Zuko when his composure was being tested. The barely-leashed inner fire usually only made itself known when he was in the middle of a council session gone wrong, or when his fiancée had just deliberately fed another man dessert right in front of him.
Zuko was staring at Sokka with an expression so flat and so incinerating it could have stripped paint from the walls.
Sokka, to his eternal credit, met that stare with the breezy, untroubled grin of a man who had survived a war and therefore had genuinely recalibrated his fear threshold. He set the spoon down on the table between you with a small, precise click.
“I mean,” Sokka said, in the tone of someone making a completely reasonable observation, “you did turn it down.”
You pressed your lips together very hard.
“You specifically said,” you added, with perfect innocence, “that you could feed yourself.”
Zuko turned to look at you. The flat expression had not moved. If anything, it had intensified. His golden eyes tracked from your face to the spoon to Sokka’s deeply satisfied expression and back to your face again, and you watched the precise moment he decided he was not going to dignify this with a response.
He reached across the table. He picked up the spoon. He cut himself a portion of the cake with the silent, deliberate calm of a man who was certainly not bothered. He ate it. He set the spoon down.
“It’s fine,” he said.
“Just fine?” Sokka asked.
“It’s cake, Sokka.”
“Y/N said it was incredible—”
“The conversation,” Zuko said, with a finality that had once ended full council meetings, “is over.”
You and Sokka thought it was funny.
Well. Your little prank is not so funny now.
Because right now, you are in the Fire Lord’s private chambers, stripped bare and face-down across his lap with the heavy silk sheets bunched uselessly beneath your palms, rapidly revising your opinion of the entire spoon incident.
He had been very calm about it. That was the most unnerving part. No raised voice, no dramatic declaration. Just the quiet deliberate efficiency of a man with a point to make and absolutely no intention of rushing. He walked you through the mahogany doors, turned the lock, sat down on the edge of the mattress, and looked at you. That was all it took. One look, and here you were: draped across his lap as his large calloused hand rested light and warm at the small of your back, the blistering heat of his thighs radiating straight through your bare skin, the horrible charged anticipation of waiting.
“You thought that was funny,” he said. Not a question. His voice was low, that gravelly unhurried register that did something catastrophic to your better judgment.
“A little,” you admitted, into the sheets.
His hand lifted. It came down with a sharp deliberate crack across the curve of your backside, and the sound that tore out of you was not dignified in any conceivable way.
“Zuko—”
“A little.” He repeated it perfectly even. His palm smoothed immediately over the sting, the scorching heat of his hand pressing into the bloom of warmth he had left behind. Your whole body clenched involuntarily at the contrast, the sharp bite of it dissolving almost instantly into a spreading maddening heat that pooled low and heavy in your core. “We’ll revisit that.”
He did it again. And again. Slow and measured, with that ruthless patience he applied to absolutely everything—council sessions, fire katas, and the systematic dismantling of your composure. Each strike was followed by the same soothing pass of his palm, his thumb tracing the flushed curve of your skin almost tenderly, and the combination of it was genuinely unhinged. Your fingers twisted into the silk. Your hips rolled without your permission. You heard the low dark exhale that came from him in response.
That was the thing about him. Zuko’s jealousy was a quiet, suffocating weight. He operated with the exact same obsessive, single-minded intensity that had once driven him across the globe for three years. Now, all of that relentless focus was trapped inside this room, directed entirely at stripping away your composure until you remembered exactly who claimed you.
You supposed that’s just how Fire Lord Zuko is. The jealous type.
By the time he finally stilled his hand, your skin was flushed a vivid burning pink, radiating its own warmth, every trace of your natural waterbender’s cold chased clean out of you. Your breathing was a wreck. The sheets beneath your palms were damp from the faint frost that had spiked off your overwhelmed skin and melted instantly against the furnace heat of his thighs.
“There,” Zuko murmured, his hand resting warm and still against your lower back. His voice had dropped into something quieter. Not soft exactly, but settled. Certain. “There you are.”
What came after was not gentle, and it was not quick.
He put you on all fours. His hands were sure and unhurried as he arranged you exactly where he wanted you, and the first stroke of his cock splitting you open dragged a completely ruined sound out of your throat that you felt no shame about whatsoever. He was thick and devastating at this angle, every thrust bottoming out so deep you felt it behind your navel, his hips snapping into the still-flushed spanked curve of your ass with a sharp filthy sound that filled the entire chamber. His long dark hair had come loose from its tie and fell around his face as he leaned over you, the ends brushing your spine, and even half-wrecked as you were the sight of him in your peripheral vision made it worse—that sharp jaw locked tight, those golden eyes dark with focus, the broad scarred expanse of his chest sheened faintly with exertion, lean muscle shifting with every drive of his hips.
He fucked you thoroughly. Properly. Deep hard strokes at a pace that left you completely incoherent, your arms trembling, your face pressing into the pillow as your own voice became entirely unrecognizable to you. Tears tracked silently down your cheeks, the bright overwhelmed kind that had nothing to do with pain and everything to do with the total dissolution of every last piece of your composure. You came with a broken sob muffled into the silk, clenching hard around him, and he followed close after with a low wrecked groan pressed between your shoulder blades, his hands gripping your hips so tight you’d feel it tomorrow.
For a moment, you both just breathed.
Then he drew you up.
He positioned you with those large certain hands, your back against his chest, his legs bracketing yours, the scorching wall of him solid at your spine. You were facing the mirror at the foot of the bed. You understood immediately, completely, why it was where it was.
You looked absolutely catastrophic. Your hair was a total wreck, dark strands plastered to your flushed tear-damp cheeks. Your lips were swollen. Your eyes were glassy, pupils blown wide, the look of someone who had been thoroughly taken apart and hadn’t been put back together yet. Your cool skin was flushed with heat and steaming faintly where it pressed against the blistering heat of his chest, the fire-and-ice contrast rendered almost obscene in the amber glow of the hearth.
And then there was Zuko behind you, which was a genuinely unfair thing to have to look at in this particular state. His dark hair was fully loose now, falling in thick dishevelled waves past his jaw and brushing his scarred collarbone. His chest was bare, broad and heavily muscled with the lean hard lines of a man who had trained every day of his life, old battle scars mapping his torso in silver and pale gold. His jaw was tight, a muscle feathering in his scarred cheek. His golden eyes burned steady in the low firelight, fixed entirely on you. He looked like something forged from fire and focused want. You looked like you’d been hit by a wave and hadn’t surfaced yet.
The contrast was genuinely criminal.
His chin hooked over your shoulder. His golden eyes found yours in the glass and held.
“Don’t look away, princess,” he said quietly.
His hand slid down your stomach.
You were already so sensitized that when his fingers found your clit, your whole body jolted on pure reflex. His other arm banded across your ribs immediately, dragging you back flush against him, keeping you exactly and inescapably in place.
“Zuko—” His name fractured in your throat. “I can’t, I’m already—”
“I know,” he said. He didn’t stop.
His fingers worked your clit in tight relentless circles, the direct pressure against something so oversensitized from everything before that every stroke felt like too much and not enough at the same time. His other hand slid up to cup your left breast, squeezing the soft weight of it before his fingers found your nipple and pinched, sharp enough to make you gasp and clench and dig your nails into his forearm hard enough to leave marks.
“Look at the mirror,” he said against your ear.
You looked. You wished briefly that you hadn’t. Your face was a complete disaster, mouth open, eyes wet, cheeks scarlet, expression stripped down to pure sensation with nothing held back at all. The image of you coming apart while he remained so devastatingly composed behind you, his dark eyes tracking your every reaction with that consuming focused attention, was enough to make your thighs shake all over again.
His fingers tightened on your nipple, a rolling pinch that sent a sharp spike straight down to your already screaming clit. Then the hand at your core shifted, two fingers curling inside you while his thumb flicked directly over your swollen bud, and you actually sobbed. Loud and undignified and completely beyond caring.
“Still think it was funny?” he murmured against your ear, low and dark and almost conversational. His fingers never lost their rhythm for a single second.
You opened your mouth. You were going to say a little. You had fully intended to say a little, purely on principle, right up until his thumb pressed down firm and his fingers curled deeper and his other hand delivered one sharp stinging flick directly to your clit. Your entire spine arced off his chest.
What came out instead was his name. Just his name, over and over, increasingly incoherent.
“That’s what I thought,” he said, low and rough against your temple.
The orgasm hit so hard your vision went white at the edges, your whole body shaking, thighs clamping shut around his hand. His arm was the only thing keeping you from sliding completely off the mattress. He worked you through every convulsing shuddering second of it without mercy, fingers pumping steadily through the clench of your walls, thumb drawing slow circles over your hypersensitive clit until the sounds you were making were mostly just breath and the occasional broken fragment of please.
He finally, mercifully, stilled.
The room was very quiet. The hearth crackled. Your chest heaved. His chin was still hooked over your shoulder and in the mirror his expression had shifted into something quieter. Still dark, still certain, but underneath it the faintest trace of the thing he could never quite say out loud in dining rooms and corridors. The thing that only ever came out like this.
A thin curl of steam rose where your sweat-damp skin pressed against the furnace of his chest. The hearth fire guttered once, sympathetically.
He lowered you both down onto the mattress slowly, tucking you against his chest the same way he always did, with that quiet absolute possessiveness, like the decision had been made a long time ago and he had no interest in revisiting it. His hand settled heavy and warm at the curve of your waist. His thumb began its slow idle circle.
You lay there completely and entirely destroyed, listening to his heartbeat gradually decelerate against your cheek. The burn of him had faded from overwhelming to something grounding, a steady bone-deep warmth seeping into places the cold had lived for years.
“For the record,” you said, into the quiet.
“Mm.”
“You could have just eaten the cake.”
A beat. Then, low and dry, his voice rumbling against your cheek. “I’m aware of that.”
“Would have been easier.”
“I said I’m aware, princess.”
You smiled against his skin. “I’m just saying. For future reference. If I offer you a spoon—”
“I’ll take the spoon.”
“Good.”
“Don’t test me again.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you murmured, partially lying as you pressed a soft kiss to the scar over his eye.
prologue ⧽ read more
this is actually a bonus chapter from the main ‘sublimation’ universe ;)
giving zuko head but he can't look at you when you do because he's so bad with eye contact, and worse when you've got his entire cock in your mouth.
it's not with you on your knees either, you insisted he take the blowjob with him laying back so he can enjoy himself and look without touching you, just resting on the headboard with those strong arms behind his head while you're practically face down in his crotch and ass up, which you teasingly flaunt and sway side to side, arching your back perfectly while your mouth works around his cock.
he has no idea where you learned this from. he never taught you or told you to smooth your tongue around the flared head, tracing the slit first and practically sucking the pre-cum out from him, before rolling your tongue around the rim and the underside to feel all the ridges and curves. he nearly came the first time you did it, but you've started doing it every time you come up. down, sucking in as much as you can get without choking, then going back up and teasing the tip with his cock.
that little tip action already has him so achingly close, and he knows one look in your eyes will have him creaming on your tongue five minutes in to the experience. he's trying so hard not to be pathetic and to just hold it in, but with how your throat works around his fat cock and your lips wrap around, slackening just so you can coax more of him into your mouth at once, he can't. he just can't.
he tips his head up and closes his eyes, running his fingers through his long hair and breathing in through his nose, out through his mouth to try and regulate himself, will himself not to look at your ass or into your eyes or at those plush lips smothering the shaft of his cock, but he can't handle it.
you can't say you're disappointed when he cums too early, whining your name between heavy, breathy groans and bursting a fat load onto your tongue so early on. and you definitely can't fault him when he stays rock hard because watching you swallow every drop of his load has his stomach twisting up and his cock throbbing despite overstimulation. "this time, you look at me, zu. okay?"
he nods stupidly, a glossy sheen in his eyes as you go in again, his gaze flitting between your mouth descending around his length and your head bobbing for a second to adjust to his size; cumming has just had him swelling up even more. you splutter a bit when he accidentally bucks into your mouth, needing you not to go so slow or he'll cum again, but that was a big mistake. you take the little sign of confidence from him as an indicator that he needs you to go harder, and without warning, you breathe through your nose and descend your mouth as much as you can, now deepthroating his cock. most of it is disappeared into the warm, velvety confines of your mouth.
and, against his will, he's cumming again immediately.
Zuko's voice was quiet, spoken through barely-moving lips. Your mouth immediately twitched up at the edges as you gave his hand a squeeze. He didn't much care for physical touch, but for you? For you he would put up with almost anything.
"Just tired," you replied.
He shifted beneath his course, brown blanket, inviting you to rest your head against his shoulder. You obliged. His arm looped around your back, ensuring you were tucked in, under the blanket. He leaned back ever so slightly to rest against the cave wall.
Around you, the "Gaang" was winding down for the night. Sokka and Katara were bickering between yawns as they wrangled their tents and shuffled around sleeping bags. Toph and Suki were near the cliff edge, playing some game involving launching rocks out across the gap. Or maybe they were training Toph's aim. Aang and Teo were off examining the many sets of carvings and statues scattered around the temple.
"We should probably set up our tents," he suggested. "Then you can rest."
But there was no reply, for you had already drifted off.
A weight of responsibility, not that of a prince, but one more personal and real, settled over him. You trusted him enough to fall asleep in his arms, to let your guard down. He felt as though he couldn't breathe. The slow expansion and collapse of your lungs, pressed so close to his own, made his heart rate spike.
He didn't deserve this. A quiet panic rose up in his chest, out-competing the responsibility. He needed to get out. Out from under the blanket; out and away from your trust; out and far, far from you; out of his own head.
Gingerly, careful not to disturb you, he disentangled himself and lowered your head to the ground. A split second before he was going to turn and leave, he saw the awkward angle your neck was resting at, and bunched up a corner of the blanket to serve as your pillow. He adjusted the rest of the blanket, again ensuring you were tucked underneath.
His skin felt like he was standing too close to a crackling fire, being specked with the embers it spat. He needed to do something. Something to justify his sky-high heart rate. So he set up your tent. He arranged your things in the particular way you like, sleeping mat and blankets tucked to the side, bag leaning against the central pole. Zuko paused, folded back the blanket, then left to get you.
The fire had died down, mostly embers glowing beneath a faint trail of smoke. It gave off enough light that Zuko could see your face, just barely. You were still sleeping, although you didn't look quite as peaceful as before.
"Uh, hey," he whispered hesitantly. "It's time to go to bed."
You nodded into the blanket, but didn't move an inch. Even your eyes stayed shut.
"Okay." Zuko looked around. Everyone else had either gone into their tents, or gallivanting elsewhere in the temple. No one to advise him.
He paused, then whispered again, "I'm gonna pick you up, is that okay?"
A soft smile spread across your face, which he took as permission. Carefully—he was always so careful with you—he threaded an arm under your legs and another behind your shoulders. Though it was only a few paces to your tent. Feeling your breath moving in and out, so at peace with him, it was intoxicating and noxious and at first it felt like drowning but then he couldn't get enough.
Too soon, he reached your tent and ducked under the flap. He squatted to set you down on the mat and remove your shoes. As he stood, your hand reached out for his. In a barely-awake mumble you said one word.
"Stay."
He turned. Besides for your hand holding onto his, you hadn't moved.
"I'm just gonna close the tent flap," he said, and you loosened your grip.
Once the light from the almost-dead fire was blocked out, Zuko needed a moment to adjust his eyes. That's what he told himself. He stood there longer than needed, looking at you, unsure if he should join you, sit on the floor, or slip out to his own tent. You looked so… He couldn't even put it into words.
Impatiently, you scootched over and held out a hand.
He lay on his back beside you. You rested your head on his shoulder, draped an arm around his middle, and settled against him. He lay there, as though he'd been struck by a shirshu; completely unable to move. Slowly, he rested his hand on your waist and closed his eyes. He had his first full night's sleep in a long, long time.
When morning rolled around, you woke up first. As the rays of sunlight poked into the temple, throwing streaks of gold into and onto your tent, you watched the disgraced prince of the Fire Nation sleeping. You traced shapes on his shirt. He stirred in his sleep, turning his face towards you, holding you ever so slightly closer.
Outside, shuffling, yawning, and quiet voices told you that at least a few of the others were awake already. Soon, the smells of breakfast—eggs, bread, and fruit—drifted into the tent. You could eat, but didn't want to disturb Zuko. The poor boy deserved to sleep in. Really, you couldn't complain; this gave you a few extra minutes to admire him.
You reached your right hand up and it drifted over the burned half of his face, eventually settling in his hair and stroking softly. You kept running your fingers through it, working out small knots that had formed overnight.
He opened his eyes, causing you to stop. You pulled back, dropping your hand back to his chest and sitting up.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," you said. "You can keep sleeping, we're not in a rush."
"It's fine," he said. "I… I like it. I like this."
His arm was still around your waist.
"I like this, too," you smiled, lying back down. This time, he rested his head on you, wrapping his arms around you. Both of your hands tangled in his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. For a few, blissful minutes you both stayed like that. Zuko even drifted back to sleep.
Then Aang finished his breakfast. You heard him go into Zuko's tent, and back out a moment later.
"Guys!" he said, loud enough for you to hear clearly. "Zuko's gone!"
"Oh no," Katara deadpanned. Toph elbowed her. "Ow! It doesn't matter. He's probably out in the woods being moody."
"Did anyone see him leave his tent today?"
No one answered, so you could only assume they were shaking their heads.
"I'll go tell Y/n," Suki said. "Maybe they know where he is."
At this point, you were quietly waking Zuko, trying not to panic him. No luck. He was sleeping like a log, which was odd, since he had told you the other day that he had a lot of trouble sleeping and staying asleep. The smallest sound could wake him. Apparently that was not the case anymore.
Suki came in, letting the flap close behind her. She came over to your mat and couldn't help but notice that Zuko was there, too. Thank goodness she was trained in stealth, or this awkward moment would have been shared with the whole camp. Instead of bursting out laughing, like Sokka would have, she smiled down at you.
"Have you seen Zuko anywhere?" She asked, loud enough to be heard outside the tent and pointedly glanced down at him.
"Uh… " you said, before waking up enough to think of something. "Yeah, he's just going for a walk. He'll be back soon."
"Cool," Suki said, winking at you conspiratorially. "We saved you some breakfast, but Sokka's eyeing it."
A few minutes later, once you'd managed to rouse Zuko and sneak him out the back of your tent, you came out for breakfast.
You'd almost finished eating when Zuko came back from his walk, bearing a few fruits.
"I found these," he said. "I thought we might need to restock soon.
"Thanks…" Sokka said. "But those are poisonous."
"Oh," Zuko looked over at you, then quickly back down to the poisonous fruits in his arms.
"It's all good," you said, holding up a moon peach. "I saved you one."
"But you should probably wash your hands first."
"Right."
When Zuko came back from the river, he sat next to you, looking a little more downtrodden than usual. You slipped your hand into his,.
"You okay?"
"I don't think the others trust me."
"What makes you say that?"
"I saw Suki and Toph down by the river. They stopped talking the moment I got close."
You paused for a moment, then said, "I think Suki trusts you."
"What makes you say that?" He borrowed your earlier question.
"I…" you started, trying to figure out how to best word this. "Suki is protective over me, she cares about me. She would never let me stay in a situation where I was in danger, not if she could help it. If I make a dumb decision, she'd be the first one to tell me."
Suddenly, everyone else felt too close. Momo's ears felt too big. You leaned close to Zuko's ear to whisper this next part.
"Suki saw us this morning."
Zuko's eyes widened ever so slightly.
"But what would she be talking to Toph about?"
"Toph sees through vibrations in the rock. She probably already knew you were in there with me."
Although Zuko didn't say anything, he stopped eating the moon peach and stared at the ashes in the fire pit.
"It's not the end of the world," you placed a hand on his arm. "Maybe Suki will convince Toph not to tell anyone." It came out more like a question than you'd hoped it would.
With perfect comedic timing, as always, Sokka walked over.
"Hey, Zuko," he started, calmly enough, but started getting louder with every word. "I hear you set up and entire tent for nobody to sleep in and you didn't even BOTHER to help me with MINE?!"
☆WC: 3.1k ☆Fire Lord Zuko x Mermaid Fem!reader ☆CW: Angst and a tiny bit of violence
The Storm
Part One Part Two
The ocean felt colder after you left him. The currents carried you far beyond the cove, beyond the familiar tide pools and hidden inlets where you and Zuko had spent the last couple evenings together. You swam in silence. The warning conch echoed through the water again twice, summoning you.
Your stomach sank, and you knew that they knew. By the time you reached the reef caverns, every fear had already become reality, the pod was waiting. Bioluminescent coral cast blue-green light across the vast chamber, illuminating dozens of mermaids gathered among the stone arches and coral pillars watching and waiting.
At the center of the cavern sat the elders, and beside them, your mother. Her expression alone broke your heart.
"Tell us it isn't true," she said softly.
Silence answered for you. A murmur spread through the gathering. Your mother closed her eyes briefly.
One of the older mermaids spoke up. "We saw you sitting beside him."
Your chest tightened.
"Holding his hand, bringing him to the tide pools."
You looked down.
The tide pools. You hadn't realized how serious that was. Those places weren't shown to outsiders and not even most mermaids visited them freely and you'd taken a human there.
"He is not what you think," you said quietly.
The chamber immediately erupted. Several mermaids began speaking at once but your mother raised a hand and silence returned.
"He is human."
"And humans are capable of kindness," you replied.
You knew it was a mistake the second you saw their expressions. They had heard that before. An elder spoke up, swimming towards you as she did so. Her tail was silver with age, scars marking one shoulder.
"You are young," she said. "I am old enough to remember the hunters."
The cavern grew still and you held your breath, no one interrupted her.
Years ago, she explained, another mermaid had trusted a human sailor. Not a lover, but simply a friend. The sailor had been injured and the pod had helped him, protected him and fed him. But when he returned to his people, he told them where to find the reef.
The elder's voice remained steady.
Her eyes darkened as she recounted the story. "They came with nets and spears. Some never returned home."
You felt your stomach twist. The cavern was completely silent and the grief hung in the water, still alive despite the years. When the elder looked at you again, there was no anger in her gaze, only fear.
"We do not forbid these things because we are cruel. We forbid them because we remember."
"He is different," you whispered.
The moment the words left your mouth, you regretted them.
Several mermaids exchanged looks.
Your mother's face fell.
Like she'd expected exactly that.
"He is different."
The elder repeated the words quietly.
Then sighed.
"Every generation says the same thing."
You lowered your gaze.
"He listens."
"He is human."
"He is kind."
"He is human."
"He would never hurt us."
"He is human."
The conversation ended there and your mother finally spoke. The disappointment in her voice hurt more than any anger could have.
"You will not answer when he calls. You will not sing near the cove."
The knot in your chest tightened as she continued.
“And you will not approach the cove again."
The words echoed through the cavern. You stared at her, unable to answer or promise. Eventually the gathering dispersed, leaving you alone with the ache growing steadily inside your chest. Much later, after everyone had gone, you slipped away to the edge of the reef where the water was quiet. Only the distant hum of currents and the glow of drifting sea lanterns accompanied you.
Slowly, you reached into the woven kelp purse wrapped around your waist for travel, and pulled free the coral comb. Your fingers traced the carved handle, remembering how he'd relaxed beneath your touch. Your eyes burned as you stared out into the darkness beyond the reef. Wondering if he had gone back to the beach. Wondering if he was looking for you and wondering if he would miss you at all.
Three very long days passed. Zuko told himself he wasn't waiting and that he simply preferred working from the balcony overlooking the cove. The fact that he checked the rocks every few minutes was entirely unrelated. The fact that every report took twice as long to finish was also unrelated.
"Lord Zuko?"
He looked up from the report he hadn't been reading to see one of the estate guards standing in the doorway.
"The fishermen from the harbor are requesting permission to dock near the western cliffs tomorrow," the man said.
"The western cliffs?" Zuko frowned.
The guard nodded. "They've been searching for something."
Zuko set his brush down. "What?"
"A sea spirit, apparently."The guard chuckled. "The fishermen claim they've been hearing singing at night."
Zuko's stomach dropped as the guard continued speaking.
"Probably gulls." The guard laughed again.
The rumors spread quickly. By the following afternoon, sailors and fishermen alike seemed to have their own version of the story. At lunch, Zuko overheard at least four. One swore he had seen glowing eyes beneath his boat and another claimed something had followed him through the fog. Iroh listened to each story with polite amusement.
Zuko sat rigidly beside him, silent and listening.
"I'd like to see it," said a man while several others laughed.
"See it?" another said. "I'd like to catch it."
The table erupted in agreement. Zuko's hand tightened around his teacup hard enough that it cracked.
Slowly, Zuko set the broken cup down, "I don't think hunting something you've never seen is particularly intelligent."
The next morning, evidence appeared. A fisherman brought it to the estate. He held up a scale proudly, small and iridescent and shimmering blue-green beneath the sunlight.
Zuko nearly stopped breathing. He recognized it because he'd seen hundreds of them beneath the moonlight. The fisherman proudly displayed it for anyone willing to look. By midday, half the harbor knew and by evening, everyone did. It was something real and something worth finding.
That night, sleep refused to come so Zuko paced instead.
The estate had gone quiet hours ago. Moonlight spilled through the hallways as the ocean crashed softly against the cliffs below. Restless, he wandered toward the lower courtyard then stopped when he heard voices from the guard station. The door stood slightly open and inside, several men sat around a table with maps spread before them. Zuko recognized the cliffs from the cove and his chest tightened.
"We'll start here." One guard pointed directly toward the rocks where you'd first appeared. "Nets should work."
Zuko went cold as the men continued talking, discussing routes, gathering equipment and search patterns.They were planning a fishing trip as though the creature they were discussing wasn't someone who laughed when he steamed. Someone who hummed while brushing his hair and trusted him.
He trudged that night, down the cliff path, across the moonlit beach, toward the cove.
The night air burned in his lungs. The shoreline was empty. You hadn't appeared in days. Still, he searched the rocks, the tide pools, the hidden inlet. Nothing, only darkness.
For a moment, despair threatened to settle in his chest. Then he heard it so faint he almost thought he imagined it. A familiar melody drifted across the water, beyond the cliffs and the safety of the shoreline he heard a lonely song. Mournful and beautiful.
You were out there somewhere beyond the rocks, close enough for him to hear but too far away for him to reach.
The song carried on the wind for only a few moments before fading back into the ocean leaving him alone beneath the moonlight. But now he knew you were still there, and worse, you had no idea what was coming. Zuko stared out at the dark sea toward the place where your voice had vanished.
He found a small wooden boat not too far off the shore and he took it and pushed it into the sea.
Clouds pressed low over the water like a warning but Zuko rowed anyway.
The thought of you being out there alone, after everything he’d overheard, after everything he’d seen was worse than the storm forming on the horizon.
“Y/N.” His voice vanished into the waves. When nothing answered, he kept going.
You saw him before he saw you. “No…”
You surfaced in a rush, water spilling from your hair as you swam hard toward him.
“Zuko!”
He turned sharply and the second he saw you, relief hit his face so fast it almost made you angry.
“There you are.”
You stopped just beside the boat, gripping the edge. “What are you doing out here?”
“I came to warn you,” he said
“…Warn me?”
His eyes flicked toward the dark horizon. “There are boats near the cove. Nets. Hunters.”
“I know.”
He frowned. “You know?”
“Yes. That’s why you should not be here.”
“That’s why I’m here.”
Your grip tightened. “No. That’s exactly why you need to leave.”
“I’m not leaving you out here alone.” Zuko’s jaw tightened.
“I’m not alone!” The words came sharper than you meant so you swallowed, forcing your voice lower. “I have my pod. I have my family. I have people who understand this world.”
“And I don’t?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
The boat rocked from the sea and a deeper pull underneath.
Zuko noticed it too, his hands tightening on the sides.
“…Something’s wrong,” you say as you look around.
The water had changed color and another wave rolled in closer and stronger.
“Zuko,” you said quickly, “you need to go back right now.”
“I said I’m not leaving—” A sudden gust cut him off. The wind hit hard enough to shove the boat sideways, jolting the both of you. Rain slammed down and the waves became restless. Lightning split the sky so bright it turned everything white. Zuko grabbed the edge of the boat as it lurched violently.
“Y/N!”
“I told you!” you shouted over the wind, “you shouldn’t be here!”
Another wave crashed into the side and water flooded in.
The boat tipped and Zuko lost his balance, nearly sliding.
“Hold on!” You surged closer, bracing the boat with your hands in the water, stabilizing it with strength that wasn’t human.
You spotted lantern light far off through the rain. The boats were too close.
“Zuko, listen to me,” you said urgently, grabbing the boat harder, “you have to leave now. They will see you. If they see you here, they’ll—”
A massive wave rose behind him, your eyes widening at the sight.
“ZUKO!” You shoved the boat hard sideways just as the wave hit a little too late. The force caught the edge anyway. Wood cracked and the boat spun violently. You reached for him, but the ocean pulled him under the chaos of the storm, dragging the boat away from you.
The boat shattered under the wave with a crack that disappeared into the storm. You called out for him but your voice was swallowed over the sound of the waves and then he was gone.
For a moment, everything was white and cold. Zuko surfaced hard, gasping as the ocean dragged him under again. The rowboat was gone, splinters spinning in the dark from the wreckage. He coughed, choking on saltwater, fighting to stay above the surface as another wave slammed into him.
“Ungh—!”
His hands flared, fire exploded from his palms. A burst bright against the storm.
It should have stabilized him but it didn’t. The wind scattered it and the rain swallowed the heat.
“Zuko!” Your voice was distant. He turned his head, trying to find you through the rain and was met with nothing but darkness and lightning.
“Y/N!” he shouted back. Another surge hit him from the side and he went under. The cold swallowed him completely. He forced it outward underwater, a sharp burst of heat exploded around him, pushing water away just long enough for him to kick upward again.
He broke the surface gasping. The hunters were close enough that he could hear them shouting over the storm.
“There! Something in the water!”
“Keep the nets ready!”
He shouted again for you, voice cracking through the wind. Another wave hit and for a second he was underwater again. He erupted upward and a column of flame burst from his body. Steam exploded around him as water recoiled and the hunters in the distance saw it.
“What is that?!”
“Fire?!”
“There is something there!”
Zuko used the brief opening, forcing another blast outward, propelling himself forward through the waves in desperation.
He dove in, but underwater, he saw a net sinking too close to where you were moving. Zuko surged toward it, fire building in his chest before he released it underwater in a concentrated burst. The heat hit the rope and it cut, fibers snapping under the thermal force.The net collapsed mid-drop, useless.
Above him, he heard shouting, and below him, the ocean pulled again. He broke the surface again, gasping, rain slamming down on his face. Another wave rose between you. The hunters were still coming and the storm wasn’t stopping. And now, he was burning in the middle of the sea, alive but only barely.
A wave hit from behind. It struck Zuko hard enough to knock the breath straight out of him. He barely had time to register it before something else followed. A jagged piece of wood, tossed in the storm’s rage caught him at the side of the head.
His fire went out and the ocean swallowed him without resistance this time.
You saw it happen, the light disappearing. You dove into the violent water, still shaking from the storm above, but beneath the surface it was colder.
He was sinking fast and unconscious. You reached him just in time, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him close to your chest. He didn’t respond to your touch. You pushed upward anyway. Your body burned with effort as you dragged him through the water, away from the chaos above.
Eventually, the storm noise dulled around you as you slipped into a narrow opening beneath the cliffs, hidden, carved by currents and time in a safe underwater cave.
You broke the surface inside it with a gasp, pulling Zuko up onto a flat rock just beneath the waterline.
“Zuko…?”
Nothing. Your hands shook as you pressed them against his chest. The injury on his temple had already begun to darken.
You looked down at him, cupping his face. You closed your eyes and leaned forward, lips brushing gently against his.
A soft glow spread beneath your skin, the markings along your scales illuminated. Tiny streams of light flowed from your hands into him. Into his lungs and the water trapped inside.
Zuko jerked violently as water spilled from his mouth. He coughed hard over and over again till his entire body shook as he dragged in a desperate breath of air.
Slowly, Zuko's eyes fluttered open and the cave ceiling swam into view. There was a pounding ache behind his eyes before he saw you. Your face hovered inches from his, expression filled with fear and relief.
His hand lifted weakly, resting against your wrist. You watched confusion slowly give way to recognition in his eyes.
"You saved me," he stated softly
Before you could think of what to say and before you could retreat, Zuko leaned forward slightly, cupping your cheek as he pulled you in. He kissed you slowly and gently, probably because he was still in pain. His lips tasted like sea water against yours but he didn’t mind at all.
When you finally pulled apart, you rested your foreheads against one another. For a long moment, Zuko simply looked at you before a faint smile appeared on his lips.
"I should almost drown more often?" he asked teasingly.
Your mouth fell open. "No!"
His laugh echoed through the cave, weak from exhaustion, but alive.
Dawn broke gray and the storm had finally passed. Zuko emerged from the hidden cave just before sunrise. Every muscle ached from swimming to shore, His head still throbbed where the wood had struck him and his boots were gone. Despite all of it, he couldn't stop thinking about you.
He would fix this, the hunters. He had to.
The moment he reached shore, something felt wrong. The beach was crowded with soldiers, fishing crews and supply carts. The cove looked less like a sanctuary and more like a military operation.
Evidence littered the shoreline. Anger hit his body after a moment.
By noon, the entire estate knew that he was furious. Orders flew from every corner of the estate.
The searches halted and many ships were recalled. Anyone caught hunting sea creatures near the cliffs faced immediate punishment.
For the first time since becoming Fire Lord, Zuko used every ounce of authority he possessed and still it wasn't enough because laws took time. Time the pod didn't have.
Far beneath the surface, conch shells sounded throughout the reef. The call echoed through caves and coral forests.
The decision had finally been made that the pod would relocate. Entire generations gathered belongings. Families abandoned homes carved into reefs centuries old, treasures were collected, shell archives secured. Nobody wanted to leave. The migration began at sunset. Hundreds moving together through deep ocean currents. A river of silver tails disappearing into darker waters.
Away from him, but you looked back only once, the distant cliffs were barely visible.
You wondered if Zuko was looking for you and if he'd come to the cove tonight. The guilt that this was all your fault consumed you as you swam. You felt the current shift. A section of underwater rock weakened by the storm began to collapse without warning. Stone exploded through the water and you noticed a youngling in the way. You pushed her out of the way first but the rock meant for her struck you instead.
The pain was immediate and blinding and everything went dark
Hundreds of miles away, Zuko stood on the cliffs overlooking the empty cove. The laws had finally been drafted and the official decrees were waiting for signatures. He did everything he'd promised himself he would do.
The shoreline was peaceful again with no boats on the waters as he approached it nervously. He waited until moonrise, sitting close to the water as it brushed his feet. The ocean remained silent through the night as he fought sleep, determined to see you.
By morning, the new protections would become law, the hunting would end and the cove would be safe. But there would be nobody left to tell because the pod was already gone. And somewhere within that endless sea, you had also disappeared with it.
Zuko would spend the rest of his life believing you'd left without saying goodbye.
Disclaimer: I don't own Rights to any Characters mentioned nor do I consent to plagiarism of any kind. Thankyou ;)
☆Tags: @strangeprincessblog @cinnamongirlkisses @amethyst09 @skyavyel @butterflygirlblogg @rubyyworld @maee67 @clockworkgraystairs @averypr3ttylady1 @uchihabbynic @allinitformofusand @annichka
☆Line divider: @uzmacchiato
AN: So glad I did this and got it off my chest, Anywhooo. Epilogue soon.
abstract: fire lord zuko has faced the most intimidating of fighters throughout his life and is a great leader! only problem is? he doesn’t know how to even hold hands, let alone fuck. luckily for him, his personal handmaiden knows just how to help his dilemma!
tags: firelord zuko x handmaiden! reader, 4.9k wc, smut + fluff, inexperienced zuko + reader, angst if you squint | art by boketto_X on twt <3
“The council has decided; we need an heir, sir.” The annoying chamberlain kept droning for the last hour or so, and Zuko was beginning to get irritated.
It’s been a few years since his coronation, and a few years of the council trying to set him up with any refined lady the Fire Nation had to offer.
“But I’m not married,” he replied.
It clearly hasn’t worked.
An advisor cleared their throat. “We know that and… actually there’s a new fine miss in our radar who happens to—“
Zuko could feel his patience running thin and abruptly stood up.
“Dismissed.” “B-But, sir!” Zuko turned to the chamberlain and advisors behind him, tone evidently laced with malice.
“I said this meeting is dismissed.”
The men scurried along like rats, leaving Zuko in his study… contemplating.
Aang and Katara are engaged to be married, Sokka is currently with Suki—even Toph has someone!
Zuko is a prideful man; he’s the Fire Lord for crying out loud… But even he can admit that he lacks in areas. Specifically…when it comes to being charismatic and a particular insecurity he has.
Zuko sucks at flirting and specifically being brazen.
He’s been on approximately 45 dates in the past year… and not one lady has been interested. Or rather they have been, until he opens his mouth.
But not even that; if there was one thing Zuko was absolutely embarrassed about, it was his lack of experience when it comes to sex. He was a virgin, a prude, and shuddered at the thought of having to have his first with some random woman he never met.
There was even one time the council suggested concubines due to his lack of courting success… but there was no way in hell he’d do that (since… as disgustingly sweet as it is… he wanted to be an intimate relationship with someone he considered close).
Maybe it was a blessing in disguise that he’s put off so many of those candidates, but a small part of him sulked at the fact that he’s going to have to have a wife sooner or later, and then have an heir. He sulked at the idea that it would be rushed and he wouldn't even love this person he was to marry.
“I can help you.”
Zuko’s lips pressed to a fine line, looking at your direction to see any reaction. Your face was completely neutral. There you were, sipping your tea while looking down, all with the most neutral expression in the world as if Zuko, the Fire Lord, didn't just tell you about his embarrassing celibacy.
He’s always told you his dilemmas, and this was no different. You’d always come up with a solution or compromise, but for some reason, he felt especially… on edge.
You’ve known Zuko since you two were children, as he attended the same school as you did for a few years before you and your father were officially promoted to head staff, and you, Zuko’s handmaiden.
Zuko remembers how you always followed him back in his childhood—answering to every beck and call; he remembers how sweet you were, how compassionate too, and how you’d encourage him when it came to Fire Bending.
You never showed a sign of protest when it came to anything, always a neutral look on your face.
And he couldn’t lie, you were absolutely stunning (despite said neutral look), but he couldn’t help but be put off even more. To be honest, you were more attractive than any of the candidates he's encountered (but who is he to say anything...).
“R-Really?” His skin turned flushed.
“Mhm,” you hummed, sipping your tea calmly like you didn’t almost cause for Zuko mentally break. You were currently sitting across from him, drinking tea with just him in the room while you listened to his problems like always. “I’m not some random woman, aren’t I? I can teach you.”
You were too damn casual.
He nodded hesitantly. “No, you’re not.”
He’ll admit, he has to get with the times. Not many people are saving their chastity and he has to stop being scared. Especially when it comes to wanting to romance others.
“And how so? How would you teach me?”
You shot him a smile. “Trust in me, my Lord. Everything shall be situated.
Zuko cleared his throat, glancing once more at your neutral face and nodded gently. “When do you suggest we start?”
You looked up and smiled. “Whenever you’d like, my Lord.”
lesson one: foreplay
Zuko thought it over, coming to a conclusion two days later and then asking you to come to his chambers later at night where the rest of the staff wouldn’t see you.
He sat there, robe hastily put on and sat there awkwardly at the corner of his bed, waiting. And then he began thinking.
Zuko’s known you for a while—you’ve been at his service for a long time. Hell, there was even a moment in time where he had a crush on you.
It was back when he would stride alongside his mother around the palace, constantly meeting your eyes every time he glanced over where your father would be working. Then you’d smile at him and his heart would be pounding; his mother knew, maybe even Azula knew—she’d certainly mess with you sometimes, but overall respected you (more than him at least).
Sure, you were a “servant”, but it’s obvious that you were a great Firebender. He remembers how he’d have trouble sleeping as a kid and walk off to the courtyard where you’d be there in a small corner, practicing Fire Bending and moving so graceful, it appeared almost like you were dancing.
Even when he got banished, he’d think of you. When he’d look at the stars, he’d think of how your eyes would shine every time you made eye contact.
And now you’re in this situation? He feels sheepish for almost exposing this vulnerability to you…
Zuko jumped at the sound of a knock at his door being knocked, walking fast towards it and swinging it open rather quickly.
“Get in, get in.” He turned around all too fast, his back facing you in sheer embarrassment that he’d even have to ask this of you.
And of course you could tell; you always could. “My Lord, please don’t be embarrassed about this. It is simply educating you on your sexuality; nothing wrong with that.”
“Right…” He walked to the bed slowly and sat down, his eyes following your figure slowly approaching him.
He can’t deny it; you looked beautiful. Your nightly robes were a pretty white, its sheer fabric covering your body nicely and your nipples poking out in the fabric.
But as much as Zuko’s eyes were on your breasts, he quickly averted his eyes to you the moment you cleared your throat. You were holding a book…
“And that?” You smiled at his question.
“This is erotic literature. Clear source material in order to work as an example on what to do.”
He blinked awkwardly, whereas your smile was still glued onto your face. You opened the book to a specific page, being bookmarked by a folded piece of parchment.
Perhaps Zuko was out of his mind—or maybe he already was (because why the hell else would he even be in this situation in the first place?), but he couldn’t stop staring at you reading. God, he knew he was a prude but to get aroused by watching you lick your index finger every time you flipped a page? He felt his pants get tight and his mouth dry.
“Do I have permission to proceed?” He looked away, his face burning with embarrassment. “I guess.”
“So… first, you hold their face and look into their eyes.”
Before he knew it, you leaned closer, holding his face and looking deep into his eyes. Your eyes softened and the moonlight peeking through the curtains hit your irises—the color almost instantly becoming more vibrant.
“After that, lean closer…”
Then you just began kissing him. Zuko’s eyes felt like they were going to pop out; your lips were warm, plush and soft. You tasted sweet, like the pastries you’d make him on occasion.
Then your tongue slowly went in his mouth the sloppier the kiss went. Your hands cupping his face pulled him closer to you the more you kissed him.
But as Zuko was starting to get used to the pace of your lips, you stopped, pulling back.
He felt his heart race, blinking profusely like he was embarrassed.
The Fire Lord? Getting like this over a measly kiss? He can already imagine Aang and Sokka making fun of him should he ever accidentally tell this about this encounter.
“That was good, my Lord,” you smiled. “Maybe you don’t even need my teachings.”
“O-Oh…” He panicked, mouth going dry. “Um… I believe I still do…”
And damn, you smiled so kindly. “Okay then please position yourself and sit against the headboard, my Lo—“
“Zuko.”
He winced—God, did he really just say that? Your eyes widened a fragment and you blinked. “Sir, are you sure I can refer to you by your name?”
“We are practicing intimacy,” he looked away while saying this and was glad the moonlight wasn’t hitting him or else you’d see how absolutely flustered he was.
“Referring to each other by our given names is one of the most intimate things. I’d like to try it with you too.”
Only then he looked at you when he heard a light laugh slipping from you. “Okay, Zuko.”
Fuck, you said his name so pretty too… You said it like it was something precious; softly enunciating the consonants and not spewing it harshly like how he’s known for almost all his life.
He felt his heart race faster, observing how you slowly got on the bed and planted your knees on the sides of his thighs, straddling him. You then sat on his lap, your crotch against his, and from your small smile forming on your face, he can tell you’ve taken note of his evident hard-on.
“Now let’s try what we did again, but in this position!”
You sounded far too enthusiastic about this…
He blinked, awkwardly. He didn't know what to do. Hell, if he were to compare being in a room full of generals and his finest soldiers, he would consider that much easier than being stuck between your body and the wall.
Your eyes followed his hands, which were placed beside your thighs and you could sense how shaky they were. He let out a small gasp the moment you grabbed his forearms and led them to wrap around your waist.
“You can touch me, sir.” He nodded slowly and grabbed at your waist hesitantly.
Your lips met his again, except with more fervor. Like you were trying to get a taste of a candy you haven't tasted in years, with your head slightly rotated. Your hands roamed around his upper torso, with your slim fingers caressing on the scar on his chest; it was as light as a feather on his skin.
Zuko could feel his heart beat so. Damn. Fast. So much so that he felt overwhelmed and light-headed and aroused, but also nervous if he was doing this right.
Your hips began grinding against his, hands tangled in his hair while you let his hands travel across your skin. His callous fingertips lightly brushed on your warm skin under your shirt, on your hips.
But when he was kissing you, he couldn’t help but still feel so nervous—to be at such proximity to you and to be able totally touch you like this.
Then you pulled back and got off of him. As soon as he was in bliss, you quickly ended it. He couldn’t atop the quite upset expression he had on his face, noted by you.
“Don’t worry, sir. I must stop now since we are only at the beginning. According to this book, kissing intensely while grinding against one’s gene—“
“Okay… I get it. You’re dismissed.”
He laid on his bed, attempting to catch his breath before you spoke again. This time, without a blank look on your face and tone. You smiled so sweetly…
“It’s cute, but we have to work on your hesitation, sir. Please keep that in mind for our next lesson.”
He nodded, finally relaxing his body the minute you shut the door. You stole his first “make-out”. Sure, he’s kissed girls (and by girls, he means just Mai), but not like this.
Not like you wanted to practically taste them while caressing their face and pulling hair.
“Fuck…” he groaned. “What am I going to do with you..?”
And… he grimaced. He was still hard.
lesson two: fellatio + cunnilingus
For the next lesson, you had him sprawled out on the canopy bed of his chamber. Zuko swore he could fucking hear his heartbeat…
He glanced over at you, once again reading your "source material" pornographic novel, and felt his heart beat into his chest. Your previous lesson didn't inherently lead to any sex, rather it was foreplay that left him all hot and bothered the moment you left.
All you did was grind against him and kiss, and you had him practically burning for more. And now, here he was, at your mercy. You were kneeled on the bed beside him while you really examined what to do. He could tell how your expression shifted from one of amusement to one of slightly shock, and then you closed the book.
“Now we are trying oral sex!” Once again, he couldn’t help but be nervous at your demeanor.
“Okay…”
“Actually, oral sex is also considered foreplay for some before penetrative sex! But, I didn’t want to rush you and also considered how flustered you got after last session, I decided it was enough!”
Zuko stared at you blankly. “Right…”
You spoke so academically? Blankly? You’re kind and listen to his dilemmas, but he feels unsure. When the both of you were making out, he was the one that was all hot and bothered while you simply left. Was he that terrible at this? Granted, it was his first time making out with someone while touching their body like that, but really?
He wonders how you get during sex… if you’re just as blank or if you—
“Okay! I will strip myself, then you now.”
You then began to peel off your upper half, where Zuko made eye contact with your pretty breasts. He’s never seen a woman’s breasts before like this, but yours looked beautiful. Really beautiful. Like a nice dumpling... Is that even a good comparison? What the hell is he thinking?
His eyes widened at how quick you leaned over, sliding his pants fast and exposing his dick, all hard and resting on his abdomen.
“Now please let me show you how to indulge in fellatio.”
You took his tip in your mouth, tongue swirling on his leaking tip and pressing on his shaft. It was too quick.
“Hahh—fuck…” Zuko closed his eyes, almost in disbelief that you were actually doing this.
You then took him whole in your mouth while stroking him at the base of his cock. You looked so cute, just cheeked hollowed out while you sucked him off.
You stopped for a moment, still stroking his cock while looking up at him with those damn pretty eyes of yours. “Now, if you want, you can also push my head a bit in case you would like a more pleasurable experience according to the book!”
And just like that, you latched your lips on his length, bopping your head up and down while your tongue dragged on his sensitive veins. He was itching for a release, and clearly you could tell too.
“You can also ejaculate in my mouth if you so choose!”
And just at that moment, he did, with spurts of cum unloading in your mouth. Then you swallowed… Shit…
Zuko took a moment to catch his breath, panting a bit before speaking again.
“Now let me do it to you.”
And for the first time, you looked hesitant. “Ca-Can you repeat your question again—?”
“Can’t I indulge in oral sex with you?”
Your eyes widened like they were going to pop out of your skull. “I-I mean yes…but it isn’t necessarily proper.”
Zuko pushed you on the bed by your shoulders, making you lie down, where he got off the bed and stood over you.
“If you are to educate me on my sexuality, not only would I like to learn how to receive but to give.”
He leaned towards you and grabbed the book beside you, flipping to the page you bookmarked talking about cunnilingus.
“Here we go…” He couldn’t lie that he felt nervous, but for some reason, just being in such an intimate situation where you were nervous as well, made him want to act more brazen. To take some type of authority.
“Do I have your permission to proceed?”
You blinked, your face feeling like it’s on fire, and nodded. “Only if you want, my Lo—Zuko.”
He kneeled on the floor, taking off your pants and underwear down and being face to face with your cunt.
Of course, Zuko’s taken anatomy during school and has gotten a diagram on how female and male anatomy look like: all technical.
But as he’s kneeled down, he can’t help but marvel at how pretty you look. Your sex was dripping with your arousal and as soon as you took note on how he was staring, you instinctively attempted to shut your thighs. Like a flower, almost. His eyes traced your body, all stiff and hesitant like you were anxious.
“Please don’t do that; let me make you feel good…”
Zuko grabbed your thighs, dragging you closer to him, and slowly kissed at your inner thighs, leading to your cunt.
Your breathing was shallow, shaky—and you were so evidently shy.
He lapped at your cunt, tasting your essence and going insane off it. He took one hand and placed it above your abdomen, two fingers spreading your labia apart and went at it.
Zuko was almost technical with his movements, kneading your plush thighs like bread dough and cupping his mouth around the top of your slit. His tongue began to piston inside you, going side to side and in figure-8 motions. He attempted to heat up his tongue even, to make the experience maybe a bit more pleasurable, all the while your thighs were crushing his head and you were…crying?
“O-Ohh my God…! Zuko—!” You were whining, your voice so high pitched that he had to do a double take. Your voice usually was derived of emotion, but you were in absolutely bliss. “Hahhh… that’s so so good—!”
He began rubbing your clit with the bridge of his nose, feeling how you twitched every time he was grinding his nose against it.
And then you pulled on his hair, shoving his face in your cunt further. Your back arched from the bed, rotating your hips against his face and tangling your fingers within his hair further.
It was too much; you were practically crying out, tears streaming down your face while Zuko ate you out in such a sloppy manner, eliciting the most lascivious sounds to anyone who may walk in. He was practically making out with your pussy, savoring your taste. You were in a trance, practically almost reaching your climax.
Which is why, when the two of you were under your own euphoric state together, did you barely notice a councilman and his entourage barge in his chambers.
“My Lor—Oh my goodness!”
“Fuck!”
Zuko looked up, already seeing you covering your face with the covers while the councilmen were looking anywhere but the direction of you two.
“W-We shall leave you be…” one spoke, turning abruptly.
“Wait!”
Zuko abruptly put on his robe, following the councilman and his entourage.
“What is the meaning of this?! You dare infringe on my privacy?”
The councilman turned around, his expression going from embarrassed to slightly relieved.
The great Fire Lord was on his knees eating a woman out scandalously while he was supposed to be on the look-out for a wife.
The Fire Nation needs an heir now, and Zuko has a lover!
And the thing was, you were from a fine family. Your grandfather was an esteemed military officer to his grandfather and father; your mother taught at the military academy, your brother was a current general in the army.
This was perfect… An absolutely perfect candidate for a wife.
“That woman… That woman is to be your betrothed.”
final exam: the night of his wedding
Zuko sat beside you on his bed, looking away. He bit his lip all anxious and afraid to meet your gaze.
It happened too quick. It was uncharacteristic of the council, however apparently someone snitched and you soon became his betrothed, and were to get married in two weeks after he was caught indulging in oral sex with you.
And now, you officially have gotten married, with you being the Fire Lady.
Yeah... You're now the Fire Lady.
He could seriously scream (in rage because he couldn’t court you? In happiness because he actually likes you? In pure disbelief?).
His head turned to your direction, where you were blankly staring at the window. The moon was out and it was shining directly at your face, sporting a rather melancholic expression.
“I-Is everything alright?”
You were biting your lower lip and your eyes looked glossy, almost like you were stopping yourself from crying.
“Y-Ye—“ “Be honest with me.”
Your eyes met his and then, did the tears slip down your face and your lip quivering.
“I’m so—hic—so sorry… I can’t begin to express how sorry I am to you, Zuko.”
He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, a pit settling in his stomach at the thought of being the reason for your tears. “What do you mean? Why are you apologizing?”
“I-I—Your wife! I s-stopped you from marrying your true love! A-And I’m so so sorry!” You were bawling at this point, lightly clutching Zuko’s robes and head crouched down in shame.
“Wait what?” He lifted your head up by your chin and saw how you were looking up at him with apologetic eyes.
Your breathing was shaky and you couldn’t look him in the eyes, making Zuko’s heart hurt.
He hesitated. He didn’t know how to make someone feel better if they were sad—let alone a woman and someone he feels strongly about. His everything hurts looking at you cry.
So he tried something he’s never done, but reminded him of his mother.
“Here,” he whispered, holding your shaky hands. His thumbs caressed small circles on your palms, and you slowly looked up at him with eyes that were still overflowing with tears.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. At all. Don’t ever think that…” He held eye contact that made you cry even more. “My wife.”
At that moment, it felt so natural. You slowly leaned in, caressing his scarred cheek and running your fingertips through his skin, and kissed him.
It felt all too natural, to be undressing you from your new formal nightly gown, and to lay you down on the bed beneath him.
“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to… We don’t have to consummate this marriage.”
“I do. I want to.” You said it all too quickly, looking away like you were flustered and destroying whatever nonchalant neutral façade you had been building.
The truth of the matter was that you love him and have been for years. And to think that you almost stopped him from “getting his true love”, you felt terrible during the two weeks the council forbid you see your husband until your wedding ceremony.
“I want to see you, Y/N.” It was the first time he’d ever say your name so gently while being face to face with you, and he felt a pit in his stomach just looking at your soft smile.
He kept eye contact while he stroked himself, hesitant on touching you.
“Okay…” you whispered quietly.
He began rubbing your slit with his cock, spreading your arousal on his length and paying attention to your clit.
“I… I learned something from the book during these two weeks I haven’t seen you.”
You blinked and suddenly gasped.
Zuko placed a hand above your abdomen and began plunging his index and middle finger into your pussy and thrusting them in and out, eliciting a string of lewd shlick! sounds that echoed around your chambers.
Your eyes tightened, holding his muscular forearm as he continued. Your gummy walls clenched on his thick, quick fingers curling inside of you and hitting that spot.
“Hahh… keep going. So so…good.”
A sound somewhere between a gasp and a squeak slipped from your lips at the sight of Zuko sticking his middle and index fingers into his mouth, sucking on them.
“My Lord—!”
He smiled, a sense of pride overtaking him at your sudden shock. “Can’t I know how my wife tastes like? You taste simply divine, my wife.”
“Oh my—!” You squeaked, using your forearm to hide your flustered expression and beginning to roll your hips against nothing. Your clit still ached in anticipation for that friction he gave.
Zuko’s nimble fingers traced your goosebump-ridden skin and he cupped your left breast while his lips went further down to your other one. “You’re so damn beautiful, my wife. All mine...”
The pit in your stomach grew and you looked away, embarrassed and aroused.
“Please…touch me further.”
It was silent between the both of you for a moment; the wing in which the both of you were at was silent, and you could hear your heavy heartbeat in your ears the longer you kept eye contact with your husband’s golden eyes, pleading with you.
“Let me pleasure you…Y/N. Please.”
You nodded your head slowly and bit your lip, your gaze trailing down onto your husband’s cock again, practically on the verge of cumming.
“Darling—please,” his golden eyes gazed at you, your flushed face and hesitant expression, and he smiled softly.
He felt nervous. What if he didn’t like sex? What if you didn’t like it? As much as he can call you darling, he was a nervous wreck internally.
“L-Let me know if it hurts. Please. I will stop.”
You nodded and dug your nails on his gentle skin, creating crimson crescents in their wake.
And just like that, your husband penetrated you while holding you so gently. Your lips pursed and your eyes followed where his were: at your cunt. The skin of the base of his cock wrinkled the moment he bottomed out in you and gleamed with your arousal when he moved his hips. Zuko hissed, his breathing becoming jagged and heavy.
“M-Move…Faster, Zuko!” He rocked his hips into you, holding your arms down against the sand. Your supple breasts bounced with every harsh thrust.
Oh, Zuko appeared as if he was going to lose it. You were just so beautiful and you were all his now.
Your eyebrows pinched together, lower lip bitten down, and tears welling up in your eyes.
“Oh my God!” Every move of his was fast, pistoning himself into you with ferocity that you slapped your hand on your mouth to stop squeaking. You felt bad for whatever maid or guard was outside hearing you cry out your husband’s name.
Zuko leaned towards you, latching his lips onto your jawline, where he left soft kisses in their wake. His cock dragged lazily against your velvety walls, clenching against him like a damn vice.
“Ahh—nghh…Z-Zuko—!” Your legs clung onto his hips lazily, body arching onto his while your arms covered your face. He’d slowly pull his hips away and slam into you so lasciviously.
Even if he did not replicate the same growing emotions you had for him, you still found yourself wanting more. Your hips bucked against his and you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him again.
“You feel so good, my Lord…” you whispered, against his lips as you tasted him.
Your legs clung onto his waist, feeling his hips buck and thrusts slowly become less consistent. “Let me make you feel good forever, my love…”
Oh…
He flipped you, to be on top of him. The moment he bottomed out inside you, you let out a cry, pressing down on his lower stomach and bounced yourself on his dick.
“Fuck! Oh my—!” God, you looked fucking stunning, with the moon hitting your upper torso and your breasts bouncing with every harsh thrust of his hips upwards.
“Let me make you mine, Y/N. I beg of you…” He groaned, hissing at how your cunt tightened around him oh so good.
You were crying—like actually crying—rocking your hips and fucking yourself on him back and forth. Zuko felt like he was on cloud nine; you were just too damn perfect.
“Nghh-more! Please!” A wave of euphoria washed over you; it was amazing…something you’ve never experienced before.
“Are you alright, Y/N?” He paused, noting your labored breathing and maw slack.
Your body felt damn feverish and you could feel how Zuko’s cock twitched inside you, spilling his hot, warm load inside your hole, making you full.
“F-Fuck…” Zuko wrapped his arms around your waist and slowly tugged you down on him, his head on the crook of your neck as he burried his seed inside you deeper. All warm and filling.
Your weight was on him and you could hear his heartbeat, both of you breathing heavily.
“We should… We should do that again. That was nice.” God, you really are perverted.
Or maybe he’s the perverted one for having one hell of a time right now.
“Tomorrow?” “Tomorrow.” He sighed, running his fingers through your hair and feeling your legs’ hold against him become tighter.
But one thing’s for certain: he wouldn’t give this up for the world.
-
-
-
a/n: hey y'all.... I'm back... deflowered is back... if you guys have any ideas for zuko fics lmk...
It all happened so fast, the fire rushed in so close it could have burned your hair. Out of fear, you jumped back as fast as you could. Being aware of how fragile you are in a fire bending situation, both your guards along with Zuko stepped between you and the worker.
He shot again, but this time before it got any closer to you, your guards put an ice wall between them and him while Zuko deflected the flames and pushed the workers hand to the sky stopping his actions there. Quickly without a second thought, your guards detained the worker in ice while Zuko went to check on you.
TW start--
You’d fallen to the ground with wide eyes scattering and pushing yourself back with your feet. It happened so fast you didn't know how to react. In a panic, you backed up even further until your back hit the wall of the ship.
"Y/n" You looked at him frantically and flinched, moving your hands in front of your face, bending the ice your guards put up, and making a barrier between you two out of fear. Your actions made Zuko stop in his tracks and back up letting you breathe.
"Shit." He dragged his hand down his face, clenching his jaw. Then he turned to look at the worker. The second they made eye contact, the worker knew he was a dead man. Yelling while walking closer, Zuko summoned more guards to take him away.
You held onto your chest trying to breathe. Once the guards got there, they took the worker away allowing your guards to rush and help you. They spoke calmly, helping you sit and get your mind off of the fear, reassuring you that it was over. But your hands were shaking, your eyes stayed wide and you couldn’t catch your breath.
END OF TW--
As much as Zuko wanted to help, he knew right now all he'd be doing is making things worse. So, as much as it hurt him to leave you there like this, he turned and followed the worker inside with the guards.
He questioned the worker left and right looking for a good reason as to why he would do something so reckless, random and out of line. But the only thing he'd say was 'to see how strong she is' or ‘as if water could stand a chance. She doesn’t belong on this ship’. When Zuko would ask why, he wouldn't give an answer.
Two hours had passed with him showing no signs of getting anywhere so he locked him up before going to check on you. When he didn't see you on the deck, he went to your room. He thought about knocking but was afraid of spooking you.
Just the thought of ruining things between the two of you put a bad taste in his mouth.
Before he turned to go away, the door opened. One of your guards, Mina, came out and closed the door behind her.
"How is she?" He immediately turned his attention, needing to know.
"She'll be fine. The Commander just needs rest.. and space."
"Is there anything I can do to make her feel comfortable?"
"At the moment?...no nothing really....she might have to just be alone. Especially from..."
"Fire benders... especially me, the one she associated fear with for so long ...alright… I'll try to have no one come down this hall and especially to bother her."
"Thank You Fire Lord."
He nodded and looked down thinking to himself as he turned walking back the way he came from.
"Fire Lord." He stopped and looked back at the guard.
"This is the other reason we came along. Yes for her safety but I'm sure you were wondering why we have always been right there.. Lady y/n will be fine by the time we dock. But you should know she doesn't do good around any type of fire. She freezes up and gets anxious. We were trained to help her in these situations on top of combat. She herself tried her best to learn patience around fire while waiting for this trip. She thought she was ready but.."
There was a short pause at first but then he nodded and turned, continuing to walk. "I trust your word. Keep her safe.”
-
Like they said, you only came out the minute the ship docked and stopped moving. All of your things were carried by your guards as you walked between them with your traditional clothes but with your hood over your head to keep the possible sight of fire to a minimum.
You and your guards lined up as you docked and the engines stopped. Zuko along with his guards were close to your side, enough for you to see his feet facing forward while you held your head low.
As the ship opened its front, you lifted your head to look at the place in front of you. Their dock was huge, ships as far as the eye could see, large and small. When it was time to walk, you looked back down at your feet following the lead of your guard in front.
You and Zuko walked side by side and were greeted by a few people who asked who you were. He told them your title and how you'd be here for a while for some business, when they looked back to you, you lifted your head and gave the man the best smile you could muster.
"It's a pleasure meeting with you Commander Y/l/n."
“The pleasure is all mine sir.”
This was constant, being stopped alongside Zuko by greetings and until you finally arrived at the palace. Important people approached Zuko as the Fire Lord with news or information who eventually ended up talking to you as well. A couple of faces were familiar in the wrong way while most were new and put an ease to your quick paced heart and mind. What helped you calm more was drawing your attention to the architecture inside and out. Once you reached the throne room curtains you did the same, getting lost in the red and gold accents that were everywhere you laid your eyes.
"For now just put her things in my room. I'll help her around the palace since I know it can be a maze." Zuko led the way while his guards held the curtains back. Stepping in, you instantly looked up at the high ceilings. His guards showed Mina to Zuko's room helping with your things while Laila stayed behind just outside the entrance.
Your eyes danced across the pillars, the stone floor then the throne but the huge fire in front of it came into view first. It made you a bit jittery, stepping back but you took a deep breath and looked around for Zuko who had disappeared.
"......Fire Lord?" That’s when you realized Laila stayed just outside the doorway leaving the two of you alone in the room. You walked closer to the throne starting to feel uneasy until the flames started to go down. You looked around to see how it was doing that and saw Zuko standing to the side of the throne. He pushed the large flames down to a low and simmering burn showing it harmless.
"I hope that's better for you." He looked over his shoulder before turning to face you.
"....it is...thank you."
"...listen... what that man did... I want you to know that I would never hurt you in that way."
You nodded and started messing with your hood looking down at the floor. Slowly, Zuko began making his way back to you. With the fire down so much, the room was much dimmer with mostly just torches around the area lighting up the room.
His feet slowly came into view second before his right hand reached under your hood to lift your head with his hand gently holding under your chin. You flinched just slightly but stayed put trying your best to get over it.
He hesitated seeing your reaction but then went through with it and lifted your head to look at him.
"If we're to keep this going, you've got to be able to look me in the eye." He whispered to you and stepped even closer letting you feel his warmth. "I can take you back if that's what you want. But if you still want this." He gently dragged his thumb across your chin lightly grazing your bottom lip as his hand cupped the side of your face. Reaching with his other hand, he grabbed your right hand holding it gently. "Then please don't hide your face from me.”
1456 words
ch. 15
"I'll stop fire bending around you if I need to. What you just saw will be the last time you see me bend. I'll do that and more for you, but please.... Talk to me over your guards. You're here with me now." Slowly, he leaned in giving you plenty of time to answer before he laid a gentle kiss on your lips. "I'd love to finally start our relationship. If you're still willing to."
Tears slowly falling from your eyes down your cheeks hearing all he's already willing to do for you. He’d change all that he is for you. Just so you would be comfortable.
"....okay." You nodded and slowly put your arms around his neck kissing him. With the biggest smile on his face, he put his arms around you tight as he kissed you back. "I'm sorry for treating you that way."
"I don't blame you.. We can work on this fear of yours together. We have plenty of time after all." Just then, Zuko lifted you off the ground pulling a laugh from your chest.
"Nooo put me down." You giggled but gasped as he began spinning you around in circles.
You held onto his sleeves tightly until he slowed down, putting you back on your feet. Your smile was huge warming his heart which is what gave him the idea.
"Let's sneak away from our guards."
"What? Why."
"Why not. I know everything about this place so let's sneak away."
"Sneak to where."
"There's this pond my mother would take my sister and I to. There's this beautiful tree and a family of duck turtles."
"Okay." He gave you a kiss on the cheek before grabbing your hand and pulling you away, out the throne room another way.
You both ran through hallways, past huge doorways, hid behind corners as people and guards would walk past until eventually you made it to the pond.
"What if someone sees us together? Isn’t it too soon to announce
"It's fine. No one comes around here but servants and there's no reason for them to not be busy someplace else today." He looked at you as you clung to his arm looking around. "I promise. There's nothing to worry about."
"Ok."
"Come on." He walked you to the pond and sat under the tree. After looking around cautiously, you joined him on the ground. Seeing you so tense, he put his arm around your waist pulling you closer so you both were actually touching.
You sat there still a little nervous. Turning your head to him, Zuko truly wasn’t worried one bit. You watched as he was focused on the pond with a big smile on his face. The shade from the tree let the perfect amount of light through somehow making him look ten times hotter than he already was. The small peeks of sun highlighted his skin showing his perfections along with his yellow-bronze eyes. Your eyes slowly studied his face from his hair down to his jaw line until they eventually reached his neck.
"Look." He pointed out at the lake breaking the silence and your concentration.
You looked out to the pond and saw three small duck turtles swimming this way with their mother. Seeing how small and cute they were, it was impossible not to stare in awe.
They swam up closer looking for food.
"Can we feed them?"
"I'll have to bring some bread later." They stayed for a while before eventually swimming away. A little sad, you sat back in his hold laying your head on his shoulder. "Let me know when you do-." Zuko turned your head by your chin and laid a deep and passionate kiss on your lips. Taking you by surprise, it took a second for you to react the way you wanted.
Without you knowing it, he’d been watching your smile as you watched the ducklings look for the food that they feel like was promised. And just as the sun highlighted his looks, it did the same for you. He slowly moved his kiss making you start to lean your head to the side. He put his hand on the ground as he slowly moved forward, laying you down. His every move shot butterflies through your stomach.
Zuko moved closer as his other hand trailed down messing with your clothes. He honestly was making you nervous but at the same time excited.
"I love you y/n." He spoke into the kiss so casually as he intertwined your fingers.
His words sent chills up your spine, but you couldn't deny that you felt the same way.
"And I love you, Zuko." You whispered to him, pushing a smile uncontrollably across his face. Feeling him smile against your lips, you let out a small giggle.
The kiss slowly became more personal as you both deepened each side. His hands went to the ground letting him hold himself up by his forearms while you moved your legs allowing him to lay between them, now letting you both stay much closer.
With a slow exhale, you gently felt up his arms, trailing until your left hand ran through his hair and your right hand held his cheek. Feeling the difference in his skin, you flinched as if it burned you thinking he'd be upset about you touching it.
"I'm sorry." You gasped and let go of him immediately but instead of being upset, he smiled.
"No it's fine."
"..Are you sure?"
"Yeah... I don't mind it when you touch my scar." Looking at your lips with a light smile on his face, he leaned back in continuing the kiss and moving even closer, pressing your bodies together.
Gently, you put your hands back where they were. And when he felt your thumb cautiously run under his eye, the exhale he let out from his nose felt like a weight slowly lifting from his shoulders, letting his hips gently push against yours.
“In fact.. I think I like it.”
1001 words
Chapter 16/17
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