dangerously caffeinated

He hums softly in agreement to your previous statement, continuing to get lost in the scene that is playing.

Both of you are ripped out of your cozy atmosphere by the ringing of your doorbell.

“I’ll get it.” you exclaim energetically, wiggling out from under his arm as you get up. Him and you both know that it must be the food you ordered almost an hour ago. Burgers. Jason’s choice, of course.

As you make your way to the door, you can feel Jason’s gaze following your steps. You know that he’s always as careful as he can be, especially when it comes to you. You never know what kind of people may be showing up at your doorstep, even if it’s just to deliver food.

“Jaylove? Do you have cash for a tip?” you question, turning to face where he’s now sitting facing the door, his shoulders squared broad and his legs spread. You know he would look menacing to whoever would stand at the door and see him behind you, glaring.

“My wallet‘s in my jacket pocket.” he answers, his voice soft in comparison to the way he holds his body.

You huff quietly, rolling your eyes at his antics while your turn to where his jacket is hung up next to the door, reaching into his pocket. Even if you think he’s being dramatic, you love him for it. That’s why you can’t help the smile creeping across your face as you turn back around, now with his wallet clutched in your hand.

Before you can make a teasing remark, the whole interaction is cut off with a knock at the door, and you quickly open it to find your delivery driver holding out the bag of food to you.

You exchange a quick greeting as you take the bag and press a five dollar bill in his hand, and he thank you quietly before he’s already on his way again.

With the bag of food in one hand, and Jason’s wallet in the other, you gently nudge the door closed with your hip, turning to make your way into the kitchen, when a small piece of paper catches your eyes.

Maneuvering his wallet into the same hand holding the bag, you quickly bend down and pick it up.

Now that you can see it up close, you recognize that it’s a receipt. Specificity, the receipt of the first time the two of you went out together.

You still remember how nervous you were, finally crossing the line from friends to something more.

You still remember how nervous Jason was, trying not to let it show but failing miserably as he stumbled over his words and almost knocked over his drink.

You still remember insisting that you could split the bill, but he insisted on paying for you the both of you.

And you still remember how the two of you doodled together on the back of the receipt while waiting for the waiter to come back.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Jason is now getting plates out of the both of you. When he notices you not moving, he looks up, softly calling out to you. “Baby? You coming?”

You’re snapped out of your memories by his voice, and you look up to find him watching you already. Then his eyes drift down to what you’re holding.

He raises a brow. “What‘d you got there?”

Eyes crinkling, a cheesy smile lights up your face as your mouth forms a subtle pout.

Moving towards him, you set the bag and his wallet down on the counter across from him.

“You kept the receipt from our first date?” you question softly, even though you know the answer already. In a split second, you see his face going from confusion, to embarrassment, finally ending up in a sheepish expression.

“That’s so fucking cute, Jason.” you tell him straight up, already knowing he’s searching for the right way to explain himself. But you don’t need him to.

His eyes widen slightly in surprise. “It is? I thought you’d think it would be… weird.” He confesses.

“What?” you exclaim. “No way! Why would that be weird?”

He just shrugs, shyly avoiding your gaze. You round the counter, now taking his face inbetween the palms of your hands, tilting his head so he’s forced to meet your eyes.

Your smile brightens when you notice the flush on his cheeks. God, he looks so cute you just want to squeeze him.

“That’s really sweet of you, baby. I mean it.“ you express.

Jason mirrors your smile, if somewhat smaller. “I‘m glad.” he admits. “I’ve kept it in my wallet since that night. Right next to the picture of you.”

He swallows before he continues. “Sometimes I take it out and just look at it, and I’m reminded of our first date. That was arguably the best day of my life back then, and it always reminds me what I’m coming home to.” he shrugs sheepishly, like he didn’t just made your eyes well up only with words.

You could melt right there and then at his confession. Instead, you move your hands away from his face and place them around his waist, pressing yourself against him in a hug. You squeeze your eyes shut as you nuzzle your face into his chest.

Jason is a little taken aback, but when he realized what you’re doing, he sees no other option but to wrap his arms around you, too.

The two of you stay like this for a while, before Jason hears a small sniff coming from you. He pulls his head back, trying to catch a glimpse of your face. “Are you crying?”

The only response he gets is silence, that’s then interrupted by another small sniff and a quiet “No.” from you.

He chuckles, shaking his head as he presses a long kiss on top of your head. “Come on, let’s eat.”

You pull back, quickly wiping under your eyes. Then you place on hand in the side of his face as you lean up, placing a quick peck on the opposite cheek. “I love you, Jason.” you smile, before turning to finally unbox the food from the bag.

Ezi laughs as Zuko playfully pokes his stomach, and the sight is enough to ease your worries for you to leave the palace guilt free as you bid goodbye to your husband and son. The Fire Lord holds the child in one arm while the other grabs hold of the baby’s favorite turtle duck toy, and with everything in order the two are off to the meeting.

The councilmen are surprised to see the Fire Lord take his seat with the infant on his lap, but none dare try to argue against his decision. Zuko has created a reputation for himself as a doting father unwilling to part from Ezi unless absolutely necessary, and the last advisor to suggest otherwise had quickly been relieved of his duties. The baby happily babbles away as he’s given his turtle duck, and Zuko takes the distraction as his opportunity to begin the meeting.

“What is on the agenda today, chamberlain?”

“My Lord, there’s been an influx of new soldiers that our staff is inadequately prepared for. There’s more soldiers than there are commanders, and it will be impossible to train them all properly!”

Zuko offers a thoughtful nod, opening his mouth to respond only to falter at the feeling of Ezi’s fingers pulling at his hair. He looks upon his child with a smile and gently removes his hands as he asks, “Do you have an idea, son?”

The baby can only babble in response as he continues his attempts to grasp at Zuko’s hair. The Fire Lord chuckles before looking back to his dismayed chamberlain. “Ezi and I believe it would be in our best interest to train the soldiers in cohorts rather than all at once. Stagger the admission rates and allow no new applicants until everything is in order.”

“Then it shall be done,” his chamberlain relents. “However, if I may Fire Lord Zuko, perhaps it would be in your best interest to leave the duty of childcare to Fire Lady y/n. She is the Prince’s mother, after all.”

“And I am his father,” Zuko reiterates firmly, his eyes sharpening with his protective wrath. “Ezi will not be let out of my sight while my wife is away, and I will hear no more of this. Is that understood?”

“Yes, my Lord,” he quickly relents with a repentant bow of his head.

“Good,” he reaffirms with a single nod. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll have to end our meeting early today. It’s time for Ezi’s nap.”

Zuko doesn’t bother to stay despite his chamberlain’s protests, instead choosing to exit the throne room and make his way back to your bedroom. He enjoys the quiet moments when it’s just the two of them together roaming the palace halls, Ezi happily cooing as he holds him securely against his chest. He adores his father, and Zuko’s chest swells with pride every time he makes his child smile; his son will never look upon him with fear or shame, and he’ll never know what it feels like to be unloved.

You return from your venture just as Ezi finally falls asleep, and you join your husband beside the crib as you admire your sleeping child together.

“Did he have a good day?” Your hushed voice asks as Zuko pulls you into his side.

“He made excellent suggestions at today’s council meeting,” he replies with a faint chuckle. “Our son is going to be a fine leader one day.

“With you as his father? He’ll be more than perfect,” you sigh sweetly.

Ezi loves his father, and Zuko will do everything in his power to ensure his son is happy and content for the rest of his days.

~~~

Your friendship went back to your pre-teen years, when you’d met them at the tender age of twelve back when they were passing by your village. It was not like you were some extraordinary kid, in fact, you were a non bender. But somehow, friendship struck with Katara when she stumbled into you at the market looking lost and soon enough, the rest of them even warmed up to you. 

Needless to say, you knew you were always the type to want to travel and never settle in one place, that part of your life still being evident when even after you finished the whole journey of bringing peace into the world, you still had the desire to continue going beyond and learning more from everywhere. 

And maybe perhaps, this was one of the reasons, you never really acted on your feelings. 

“You made it!” It wasn’t even a few minutes since you’d step into the city, which flourished with all kinds of things happening all at once, perhaps it was because of the occasion of the ‘reunion’ but nonetheless, you had a hunch this was just how it was even on the tamest of days, when you heard her.

You didn’t even try to stifle the wide grin on your face as you spun around to face Katara. Before you could even say anything, she embraced you in one of her hugs. Still the same, you thought as she hugged you tighter which made you giggle as you both stumbled a little. 

“ ‘course I did, you did threaten me afterall. But always a delight to see you Tara.” You pulled away gently, standing a tad bit taller than her, even though there was a time she was taller than you. She looked as beautiful as ever, the years really making her even more beautiful than you remembered as you scanned her face. She had that glow on her face which made you grin even more when you realised who might have caused that. 

“Where’s your little boyfriend hm? Didn’t even care to come and welcome me?” 

The blush on her cheeks made you chuckle even more, these two had been together for years and yet you could still tease her about it and she would still be blushing, it was cute. 

“Of course you expect that of me.” You heard him before you saw him, as you turned around to face Aang who had a playful scoff on his face. No longer stood the scrawny short boy who was just a few inches below your shoulder. Aang looked as if puberty decided to reward him in the best ways possible as he now stood taller than you, and somehow looked broader as well? Maybe it wasn't just that, perhaps a certain someone *cough* Katara *cough* also was a reason he'd aged gracefully. 

“I wonder how you are taller than me now, shorthead.” The nickname still stuck as he also embraced you in a hug and despite knowing he had definitely matured, the mischievous sparkle in his eyes showed that there was still that Aang you'd known within.

“You know, the nickname doesn't really work anymore? Considering I am now WAY taller.” To add to his statement, he pointed out the difference by waving his hand above your head to which you rolled your eyes and flicked his forehead, “Yeah not happening, you're still the same to me.”

Katara chuckled at your antics and shook her head. She was just glad she could finally meet one of her best friends who she had been wanting to meet for so long. Even when she remembered, trying to make you stay behind with her and Aang, deep inside she knew you were someone who wanted to go way beyond. She had that sense since the minute she met you. And more so, when you agreed to come with them during that time so readily.

“How's gran doing?” She recalled your grandmother, the one who actually was the reason behind the way you were. It was in fact, her stories of the world and the very many tales of people and places that made you want to go and see these fantasies in real life.  

“Oh you know, same old, same old. I told her to come with me here but she insisted that you all come and visit her.” Katara nodded at your words and chuckled again, knowing how the conversation probably played out. 

“Is that who I think it is?!” The scream already said enough as to who it was and before you could even look at him, he jumped right onto you. “I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU'RE ACTUALLY HERE.” 

And classic Sokka, who completely forgets that he's not the same as he was when you could handle his hugs without toppling over. So, as he did come to hug you, you both toppled over to the ground. Groaning you tried your best to wrap your arms around him, but again it seemed puberty also somehow managed to make him even more buffer. 

“Oh Go- can’t- breat-” You could hear Aang and Tara laughing as you glared at the two when you could feel your neck getting wet from Sokka…crying?

“Are you crying??”

“n-No!” 

“I'm still alive and here and I feel that might just change in a few moments.” Your last few words came out in groans as you tried to not feel crushed. 

Sokka was probably the one who you got along with the most, one of the main reasons being of course, that you two were both non-benders. So a lot of your own thoughts and feelings are aligned in those matters. But despite that, you'd still have your own differences, even then so you managed to get along the most with him.

“You're literally crushing her, stupid.” And there were only two people who you knew that would sound both rude and concerned at the same time. 

“Sorry!” You looked at him as you both got up, dusting off whatever had stuck to you in the process and somehow, you think that he was the one who remained the most unchanged. 

“It's fine, I missed you too idiot.” You laughed as you pulled out a handkerchief that was tucked in your pocket, which he gladly took and you shook your head. The other two came over and helped him compose himself as though he truly couldn't find better words. It had been way too long since he talked to you, and somehow he couldn't find the words. 

“Nice to see you too Toph.” You grinned even more as you stopped closer to her, and even knowing how much physical touch was a bit of a hit or miss with her, you went near her, to which as she could sense you closer, she showed one of her rare smiles and opened her arms. 

Damn I did really miss out on their glowups huh?! And where did mine disappear too?! 

Despite Toph also being shorter and way lankier as a kid, she has gotten quite buff and now stood at a similar height to you. 

Even though you didn't feel that different physically, the rest of your friends thought quite the opposite. Afterall, doing something you truly desire and doing it for a long time does change you mentally but physically as well. You glowed and carried that sort of confidence that only comes when you're truly someone who's grounded within yourself. It came off from your whole body language and even as Toph hugged you, she sensed a whole different yet same being from the skeptical but brave little girl she'd known. 

You pulled away and finally looked at all four of them, their happiness radiating as they finally got to see everyone back together. Well not everyone. At least not to you yet. 

Having met the four of them, there remained only one. And somehow, you had very mixed feelings for this one. Not because you didn't like him or so but it bordered on quite the opposite actually. 

 Even after all the years of being away, it seemed you were back in your pre-teens, harboring the crush that bloomed over time for Zuko as even the mere thought of him, even at that very moment, seemed to quicken your heartbeat more than ever. 

This time, you saw him before he even said a word, your eyes scanning over the others and landing on him before he saw you. 

The rest of them were talking, to you, to each other but your attention was forcing you to find him and then you finally did. 

And Oh Dear God. 

Back when you were that daydreamer, you thought your crush was solely on the fact that Zuko was probably one of the most attractive guys you'd ever interacted with. Sure, he had his own fair share of…issues, yet somehow as you grew up with him in that time, you could see him change. And that change itself made him more and more attractive to you. 

You didn't think it was possible for him to get even more fucking attractive but there he stood. 

He looked way taller, broader, more well kept with his hair even longer. His scar added just more awe to his whole being as you scanned him head to toe. He always had that authoritative aura and it seemed being Fire Lord was really working out for him, after all he was born for this. It didn't really go unnoticed as Aang and Katara gave you a side-eye to which Toph only raised her eyebrows in amusement as she picked up your racing heartbeat. 

“And did you finally spot your true love?” Your attention turned to Toph as she held that knowing smirk on her face to which you glared and side-elbowed her. 

It wasn't exactly hidden, your feelings for Zuko, at least not from everyone but him. Somehow you had been able to disguise them whenever he was around but the others did figure it out eventually. Even Sokka for that matter.

Speaking of, he came up next to you and immediately pulled you in another side hug, “I still cannot believe you finally came. We all thought you were probably somewhere very far away considering you didn't reply to any of our letters in the past few months.”

You let him be clingy, because well, really you missed it a lot. Nodding you replied, “I do have all your letters, and I figured it would be better to surprise you instead.” 

Over time, you'd send them letters with the places of where you'd be staying so they could also send theirs and you kept every single one of them.  

As you turned to face Sokka as he rambled on about how much you'd missed out on, while Aang and Katara filled in between the conversation with Toph also giving her inputs occasionally, you didn't notice another person walking over.

Zuko stood a few feet away and just waited. As he waited, he really looked at you. It had been so long since he's seen you, he didn't even realise just how much he…missed you.

You'd changed. You'd changed in ways he didn't even think you would but you were still as…beautiful as ever. You looked happier and it was very much visible with the twinkle in your eyes as you spoke and gestured. 

His own heartbeat picked up in pace as he realised the stupid infatuation he felt for you as a teen, wasn't actually ever gone. Over the years, he felt it likely faded away, despite the fact that whenever he did get a letter for you, he treasured them and kept them in a box hidden away in his chambers. Despite the fact that it was what he always looked forward to and made sure they were given to him privately. Despite the fact that he never took off the necklace you'd gotten him as a departing gift from before you all split, because it felt you were always there with him. 

Oh he never really got over it.

“Ah you creep, stop staring and come greet her.” It was Toph who sensed him first, everyone's attention going to Zuko while you looked up and slightly froze.

Embarrassed to have been caught like this, he walked a few steps and glared at Toph, scoffing, “I was coming over.” 

“Sure you were, you were totally not star-”

“Hi.” 

You didn't think one word would have such an effect on you but you blinked twice before clearing your throat.

“He-hey.”

“How have you been? It's uhm- great to see you again.” 

In that moment, you cursed at yourself internally for not being able to simply speak. You were mortified because it felt like all the feelings that you'd been harbouring were clogging up your throat and really you wanted to just go to him and ki-

“Great. Good. I've been well. And you?”

I can't believe I am seeing you again, I didn't realise I'd been wanting to see you this badly and now that you're in front of me, I cannot find the words.

“I've been great too.”  

I wish I told you everything, but I couldn't because it would mean making a choice and I can't do that to you. I thought I was over you, I thought I could be over you, but I simply can't. I missed you. 

Honestly to an outsider it was very much obvious. Your flushed faces, the awkward body language, the darting eyes. You clearly never got over each other and indeed, in idiocy, never even told each other. 

Sighing, it was Sokka who broke the 5 second awkward silence, “Alright you two love birds-” Standing beside him, you also gave him a hard hit to his side with your elbow while Zuko glared at him hard enough to almost send a fireball at him. 

“Right! So now that we've all met! Why don't I show you your chambers so you can rest a bit before dinner?” Of course, the ever considerate host that she was, Katara grabbed your hand and pulled you away, your luggage already being taken care of as she took you to your temporary chambers. 

As you walked away. Zuko stared off in your direction while Aang came closer to him, "I've never seen you so speechless. It's kinda hilarious.”

Rolling his eyes, he folded his arms and looked at him, “Shut up.”  

“You sooo still have a crush awww, wittle Zuko never got over his teenage crush awww~”  Sokka ducked as he laughed when a fireball was thrown in his direction. He knew the risk of teasing the ever so hot headed fire bender but he took it. 

It wasn't like they didn't try to set you both up. In fact, it was a major agenda once they all figured out everything was mutual. All they had to do was set the final stone. However, it was rationally decided that you were both adults (Katara and Toph mostly.) and there was only so much a third party could intervene. Clearly whatever it was, it would be up to you both to figure it out. 

“You're still not over him, are you miss ‘I left it all in the immature years of my life.’?” 

You couldn't even find yourself to feel annoyed, still in a haze at having encountered him. 

And oh boy was this gonna be tougher than you thought.  

[ time skip to dinner ]

You didn't want to admit you'd gotten a bit more dressed up than usual. It was definitely for the occasion of celebrating and not because of well. Yeah, the symbolic colours of different shades of red and orange weren't…a sign, you didn't exactly pick it out yourself. It was more of Katara. 

“I hope I'm not too late.” You stood beside your reserved seat, in between Toph and Sokka with Katara beside Aang and Zuko in front of you. You greeted everyone with a skeptical smile, trying not to let your nerves get the best of you, sitting down and pulling your gown along. 

And as usual, he looked finer than ever. His hair is styled perfectly with his gold emblem on top. You didn't think long hair would ever suit a guy this well but then again this was Zuko. 

And the colours didn't go unnoticed, Katara beaming at you as you sat down with Aang and Sokka side eyeing you in suspicion as they looked between you and Katara. It was definitely her idea alright. Zuko couldn't keep his eyes off you the moment you walked in, having to blink several times to make sure this wasn't some dream, because it indeed felt like the ones he had when the small part of him that always yearned for you, that he tried to suppress, was vividly imagining you being in front of him. 

He never truly appreciated red, until he saw it on you at that very moment. 

“Now that you're here, we should eat!” Clapping her hands, she pointed out the various foods, plenty of them being everyone's favourites. Your eyes lit up even more when you spotted your favourite foods, Zuko who hadn’t looked anywhere else also smiled a little as he pushed the dish in your general direction. 

And as usual, it was unnoticed by you but noticed by all. 

“So, what have you truly been up to?” It was said by Aang after a while, when you had a somewhat flow of eating and coordinating the food around. 

“Oh you know, going from here and there, learning, seeing mostly.”

“Seeing others, hm?” Sokka nudged you, wanting to know the actual tea that he’d been anticipating, but also wanting to slightly stir things up. 

Slurping the noodles, you turned towards him and narrowed your eyes, “No…not exactly but also like,”

Pausing, you realize maybe it wasn’t truly the best idea to spill about your…existent slash none existent love life in front of the one who unknowingly caused it to be all over the place in the first place.

Zuko tried to act normal, but if looked at a bit more closely, you could see the discomfort in the usual composure he had going on. He definitely needed more alcohol for wherever this conversation was heading towards. 

 “Like?”

“Well..you see it’s just,”

Toph insisted in between, picking up your spike in your heart pace, now suddenly even more intrigued. 

You contemplated if this was truly the right point to say what you didn’t mention to them, even in your letters and since you met them. It wasn’t exactly all of them the problem, the problem was in front of you, as he gazed at you in curiosity which you tried to ignore.

Sighing, you figured it was better to let the cat out of the bag sooner than later and from you rather than anyone else, “I wasn’t exactly dating, it was more of me seeing…suitors. So I wouldn’t really count that as you know, dating.” 

You avoided eye contact with everyone as Sokka gasped in his weird dramatic way as if you just told them life changing news. In a way it was, because this was never mentioned to any of them. You didn’t notice how Zuko suddenly got tense, his lips twitching into a slow frown. 

Clearing out your throat once more, you explained, “It is more of gran’s wish really, she insists I settle down and get married, because she somewhat wants to see me getting married before eventually her age catches up to her. And i- i mean i guess I sort of agree? I- i am not gonna get any younger anyway.” 

Marriage wasn’t something you considered a goal, it was more of something you would do in life once you felt like it. And over the years, you decided you wouldn’t settle for just about anyone. Hence, you also didn’t see any harm in seeing the type of suitors that existed, most of them being thrust upon by your grandma.

But also, it felt even more like a joke seeing that you looked in them for traits that were his. Too arrogant, too scaredish, too shy, too boring. None of them till date fit any of the so-called standards you mentally had. None of them were Zuko. 

If you couldn’t have him in this lifetime, maybe you could have the closest version to him. Yet, no one was even close. This was a feeble attempt to actually get past it but it failed severely. 

He took another shot of whatever alcohol was in front of him, the burn in his throat going in parallel with the burn that slowly crept in his chest. Meanwhile, you continued to avoid his line of sight. Katara’s eyes darted between you two, and had an…idea. Maybe it was finally time to push you both somewhere. 

“Oh, ooh, I know- you can totally see suitors from here!”

“What?” “What.” “Uh-” 

“Oh come on, this city has plenty of great guys! Heck, probably better than whoever you have seen so far, so what’s the harm?” Okay, maybe a bit of a stretch. But she knew if she wanted to kill two birds with one stone, she’d have to exaggerate perhaps a little. Or a lot.

With a questioning gaze, you momentarily forgot about your food, “Really?”

“Duh of course! In fact, I shall gladly introduce you to a few tomorrow.”

You did not really like the scheming that was going on, you could tell it was scheming just by looking at her. You narrowed your eyes further in suspicion. 

Before you could speak up, Zuko cleared his throat loudly, “I- I uh think, I’ll call it a night. It was good catching up but I think I should go now.” 

It was very abrupt as he stood up, one of his fists clenched up as if he was trying to control himself. His emotions. 

It wasn’t just the alcohol getting to his head, it was also how his stupid thoughts drifted off to imagining you with some other guy, getting married and all that stupidness. He needed to breathe. 

And with that, he left the table and wandered off, preferably somewhere he didn’t have to hear about your potential husband, or whatever.  

How could you even prefer him? He was…difficult. He had several issues and it took him years just to accept that it just made him into who he was. And it wasn’t like you could ever look at him in that way. He was one of your close friends. He had a chance to spill it all, way long ago but alas his own cowardness got in the way, and he came to a realization that he did not want to ruin your friendship for a fickle crush. 

You continued to look in the direction Zuko went. It was so spontaneous and even more weird that you felt…guilty about it. 

“Go!”  You didn’t even grasp that you’d been frozen until Toph shook you. “You should go after him.”

You turned to face them, Katara looking at you with encouragement as Aang and Sokka also got a realisation that this was somewhat a set-up. Well by Katara atleast. 

Taking a deep breath, you stood up. Wondering if you were making the right choice. 

How easily some moments could change the simple trajectory of your existence. 

a/n : THERE WILL BE A PT 2 I PROMISE THERE IS A CLEAR VISION TO IT. IT IS THERE AND IT WILL BE POSTED. i cannot lie, i have gone through all stages of grief as i wrote and contemplated publishing this so if this is ass pls do not tell me <3 (im kidding hahahhaahah) pls lmk if this made any sense tbh because once again, this is purely fueled by me thinking about zuko on a daily basis once i saw the leaks of the movie and ohmygosh they all look so fine i cannotttt. i have an idea for a modern au but i have never really even written for this fandom so....urm lmk what you think now i shall go back to studying for my finals which is legit in 3 days mind you :D kay bye love you <3

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2026

feedback is always appreciated 💌 !

Okay. Time to try opening your eyes.

You do so with substantial effort. Your vision is bleary. All you can make out are blobs of gray. You've got a lot of eye boogies in your eyes. You can feel them.

But you're not really sure about where your hands are at this moment in time, so the eye boogies will have to camp out for a little longer.

"Hey." The bed shifts. That warm voice gets closer. "Hey, hey. Y'thirsty?"

A straw taps your lips. You clumsily take it and drink until it gurgles and there's no more water.

"Yeah, I'll bet you're thirsty. Want more?"

A cool, rough hand pets your forehead. Oh, that's nice. That's very nice. The bedside manner in this hospital is impeccable. A little forward, but you don't mind. The voice and his hand are both very polite.

Time to try to actually see some shit. You hone in on your vision, putting every iota of brainpower into processing what your eyes are telling your brain.

A figure. A man. Huzzah!

Oh. Oh, wow. A very beautiful man. A big, hulking, beautiful man.

He's young, boyishly handsome. His eyes are bright. A scar is etched from the top of his right temple to his lip. There's a white streak in his dark hair. Is that a trend now? You can't remember.

"Where 'm I?" you ask.

"You're in the Batcave. How much do you remember, honey?" the gorgeous, beautiful, dreamboat nurse asks.

Well, you remember being in a car, and then being ejected from that car, and then hot, blinding pain, and then... waking up.

"Car accident?" you manage.

Pretty Nurse nods. Is he a nurse? He looks more like a biker, with his leather jacket and empty holsters. He looks like he could pin you down with one arm and—

Whoa. Chill.

"Yeah, kinda. There was an explosion. You hit your head pretty hard." He strokes the back of your head, frowning. "How do you feel?"

You feel like your head feels like an anvil has been tied to it. But it's okay, because look at this biker-nurse! Wowza!

He takes your hand (you have hands! Huzzah!) and strokes your knuckles with his thumb, which is fine, actually, because he has really nice eyes. You want to tell him.

"You h've nice eyes," you say.

Pretty Nurse blinks, looking startled. His cheeks go a little pink. "Oh. Um, thanks, baby. Y'sweet."

Baby? Do you really have that much rizz as a medical patient? You can't imagine how irresistible you must be when you haven't been in an explosion.

But then everything shatters when you look down and see a silver band on his hand. What the shit! He's married? Or engaged, at least. Son of a biscuit.

And he's flirting with you? What a pig!

You snatch your hand back, suddenly sour. Pretty Nurse raises his eyebrows.

"What's a'matter?"

"You have a ring," you say, voice dripping in contempt.

"I—" He looks down. "Uh, well, yeah. I do."

Devastating. "If you're taken, you shouldn't be flirting with me, jerk."

He squints. "Wh—oh. Oh. Huh."

Pretty Biker Nurse looks like you've just said something funny. You don't see what's so funny about infidelity. May God strike him down!

He smiles coyly. "D'you know who I am, sweetheart?"

"Yes," you say, glowering. "Y'just a no-good philanderer who should be ashamed of hi'self. Don't care how handsome you are; I won't enter your web of lies!"

He laughs, bright and sweet. Damn him! You need a different nurse. This one is the epitome of temptation.

"Oh, baby. Oh, you're too cute. Can I take your hand?"

"Not if you're gonna flirt more," you say, lifting your chin. "Dirtbag."

"Your moral code is incredible, honey. Good to know I'll never have anything to worry about, though I never doubted you. Can I show you something, though?"

He lifts your hand and on your finger is a gold band. More delicately shaped than his ring, but similar.

"Oh my God," you say, panic growing. "I'm cheating on my husband."

He laughs louder this time. "Your fiancé, actually. Wedding isn't till August. And no, honeylove. You're not cheatin', 'cause I'm right here."

He leans in and kisses your forehead. Your hackles raise for a moment until... wait...

"You're my fiancé?" you ask, eyes huge.

He smiles shyly. "In the flesh. Y'remember my name?"

You feel like it's a J name. "J..."

"Jason," he says gently. "Yeah, wow. They got you on some pretty strong meds, huh? Leslie said you should start to remember more stuff in a day."

Jason. Pretty Biker Nurse Jason. Holy moly. He's engaged to you? About to marry you?

"You are so pretty," you blurt.

That makes Jason more shy. He smiles like he's done something he's not supposed to do. "Not as pretty as you, honey pie."

"No, you're... I mean, wow. Sorry I called you a jerk. How did I get with you? That's crazy. You're fine as hell."

Jason snorts, wide shoulders shaking. His cheeks are red. "Jesus, you're shameless."

Well, yeah. You're still not sure this isn't a dream. You have to let your fiancé know exactly what you think about him.

You prepare to tell him something smooth and romantic. Something about how kissable he looks.

"Y'look like a sexy biker."

Hm. Not exactly what you had in mind. Your brain feels like a blue raspberry slushie.

Jason grins. "Oh, yeah? That why you been starin' at me? Didn't know you had a thing for bikers. You're terrified of going on my motorcycle."

How does he know that? It's true; you like bikers from afar but you're not about to get on a death machine, thanks.

"You can rev my engine," you say, head slumping against the pillow.

"Oh my God," Jason says, clearly delighted. "Don't think I've ever seen this reaction to pain meds."

"Can't believe we're engaged," you say again. "How'd we even meet?"

"Well, I'm a vigilante of sorts, and the first time we met was after I saved you from a mugging. And then we kinda just... kept running into each other. You bought me coffee without realizing who I was. And we, uh, fell in love. As people do."

"You proposed to me in Spain," you say suddenly, the memory rushing back. "You... you wanted to prove you wouldn't put work above us."

Jason nods, lacing your and his fingers together. "Yeah, that's right. Three weeks in Spain." He pulls out his phone and shows you the lockscreen. It's of you two. Jason has sunglasses on. You're smiling. You can't remember ever smiling like that before.

Tears suddenly spring to your eyes, emotion smacking into you like an eighteen-wheeler. Jason leans in, concerned.

"Baby? Hey, what's wrong? Something hurts?" he asks, inspecting your head.

Your mouth quivers. "You... you love me so much."

Jason stops, tilting his head. "I... uh, yeah. 'Course I do. You're the person I love the most in the world."

That makes you cry, tears running down your cheeks. Jason's eyes widen in alarm.

"Sweetheart? What's—hey, it's okay. Why're y'crying, huh?"

He brushes your tears away with his thumbs, cradling your face. You sniffle.

"I'm s-sorry I called you a dirtbag," you blubber. "Y'not a dirtbag. You love me so much."

"Oh-ho, oh, honey. Baby, you've been unconscious for twelve hours. You're under heavy medication. I know you didn't recognize me, it's okay. Trust me, I've been called far worse," Jason says tenderly.

Dear God, you're a beast. What kind of person doesn't recognize their own fiancé?! You cry harder.

"I should've remembered you! I'm a bad fiancé," you wail.

"Aw, sweetheart. No, no, it's okay. C'mere."

Jason scoots you over slightly and pulls you into his arms. You cry into his shoulder, slobbering all over his sexy biker jacket. He rubs circles on your back.

"You're really cute and nice and I'm glad y'marrying me," you say, muffled in his shoulder.

Jason hums, the sound vibrating through you. "I'm really happy to be marrying you, sweetheart. You rock my world."

You sniff. "Really?"

"Mmhm." Jason kisses the side of your neck. "How 'bout you sleep a little more, hm? I bet you're exhausted."

Now that he mentions it, you do feel pretty worn-out. Especially after crying. And almost getting blown up.

"Will you be here when I wake up?"

"Absolutely, honey. I swear."

Jason eases you onto your back. Your eyes are beginning to feel heavy.

“You are” he started, voice rough, breath hot against your cheek, “—unbelievable.”

You tilted your chin up, a pleased smile on your face. “And you love me.”

His eyes darkened, a small scoff left his lips as he gave your hip a squeeze. "That’s the problem.”

His mouth crashed into yours, hungry and posessive.

His kiss swallowed every teasing word you had left, his body pressing yours into the doors as if he needed to feel every inch of you against him.

Your hands slid up his chest, over the layers of his robes, gripping tight.

“Zuko—”

“Quiet,” he breathed against your lips, already tugging at your clothes, hands moving with urgency now. “You’re going to get us caught."

You smirked. “Then make me be quiet.”

He made a low, dangerous sound and before you can even react, he hooked his arm under your thighs and lifted you effortlessly.

Your back pressed harder against the doors, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist.

“Too far,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “You went too far this time.”

"I'm your wife, I'm allowed too..."

His hand slid between your bodies, pushing your skirts up roughly, fingers finding your soaked pussy instantly.

He froze.

Then groaned.

“…you’ve been like this all day?”

Your breath hitched as you adjusted your hip. “Your fault.”

His head dropped to your shoulder, teeth grazing your skin as he worked himself free, his cock already hard, already aching.

“Spirits,” he muttered, breath uneven. “You’re going to ruin me.”

You tried to let out another comment until your husband pushed inside you in one deep, sudden thrust.

Your mouth opened but his hand covered it instantly.

“Told you,” he breathed, forehead pressed to yours. “Quiet.”

Your moan was muffled against his palm as he filled you completely, his cock stretching you open, heat meeting heat.

Zuko’s control snapped.

He started moving hard, fast thrusts that drove you against the doors with every motion. The wood thudded softly behind you, a dangerous rhythm that made your pulse race.

“Look at you,” he whispered, voice rough, strained. “My wife… acting like this in my halls.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders as you heard him let out a hiss, thrusting deeper.

“You think I won’t take you right here?” he continued, lips brushing your ear. “You think I care if someone hears?”

You shook your head weakly against his hand, heart pounding in his chest.

He groaned.

“Good.”

His pace grew rougher, more desperate, every thrust deeper than the last, your body bouncing slightly with the force of it.

You whimpered against his palm, your pussy tightening around him.

Zuko’s breath broke.“Don’t...” he warned softly, though his hips didn’t slow. “If you do that again—”

You did, another moan muffled by his hand.

He swore under his breath, pressing you harder into the doors. “That’s it,” he growled. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

His hand slipped from your mouth only to grip your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“Say my name.”

“Zuko—”

He kissed you hard, swallowing the rest as his thrusts lost rhythm, control slipping entirely.

“Mine,” he murmured against your swollen lips. “You’re mine.”

Your orgasm hit first, sharp, overwhelming as your body tightened around him, while you cried out into his mouth.

Zuko followed seconds later, groaning low as he buried himself deep and came hard, cock pulsing inside you.

He held you there, chest heaving, forehead resting against yours.

For a long moment, neither of you moved.

Just breathing.

Just recovering.

“…we’re definitely getting caught next time,” he muttered.

You laughed softly. "Worth it.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “…completely worth it.”

"Besides...they can't do anything but talk, you are Fire Lord after all."

“Flameo Hotman, huh?”

Your voice was heard through the quiet bedroom as you now leaned against the closed door, keeping your eyes on your husband's back while he was reading through the letter again.

“Don't start with that too.” Zuko wasn't really amused, biting his lip while his fingers curled around the right corner of the paper.

No matter how many times he read through it, the feeling didn't leave him. Something was going to happen, and it wasn't going to end well.

At least Aang still found the time to joke around, as he had asked for some firecracker buns.

While your husband was completely engrossed, you had walked up to him, waiting a couple of seconds for him to realise that you were standing behind him.

If someone had told you that Zuko was going to become that tall, you wouldn't have believed them, but after all, you two had met when you were still teenagers.

The tall male still not noticing his lover, he sighed heavily, which made you slowly put your arms around his waist.

For a second, Zuko stopped breathing, and then a soft, too-quiet-to-hear gasp made its way out of his parted lips.

No matter how many times you would touch him and show your affection, it would still have an effect on him, a good one.

Feeling your skin on his always made him realise that he wasn't alone. Maybe back then he had enjoyed the loneliness, not having enjoyed the company of others, as they always looked at him as if he were a monster, but it changed over time.

Zuko needed someone to calm him down. Someone who felt safe, someone who wouldn't leave him, and he found that in you. You never looked at him as if he were a monster. Sure, at first you didn't get along, but that still never made you say anything hurtful about him.

Your thumb lightly stroked over the fabric of his top, the feeling of his abs beneath your finger. “Remember to breathe,” you whispered against his back, hearing him breathe in slowly before exhaling.

Without a word, Zuko dropped the letter onto the small bedside table to now hold your right hand in his. His hand was calloused and bigger than yours, yet he held you as if you could break any second.

You gently laid a kiss on his back, slowly moving your arms away from him to sit down on the bed, and before Zuko could make a sound, you put your hand on his arm to pull him down so that he was sitting next to you.

The expression on his face had relaxed a fraction, but the frown was still visible in his eyebrows. His normally picture-perfect posture now hunched slightly forward, his elbows resting on his knees while his long hair was held up in a bun, only two strands left out.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Zuko heard your question and only responded with a slight shake of his head.

It's not like he hadn't missed them, he really did. Even though everything started out badly, he still learned to like them. Aang had not really changed, still beaming with happiness and finding ways to joke around. Katara was just as stubborn as she was when she was a teenager, but also gentle with everyone around her. Toph was chaos through and through, but in the best way possible, and Sokka would always find a way to be sarcastic but also overprotective, even without the bending abilities.

But it's been a while now. Though they did send letters to each other, meeting them would mean another adventure. The start of something that they might never be able to finish.

And honestly, Zuko was scared.

While your husband was deep in thought, you had gotten out a small hairbrush from the bedside table, quietly shuffling to sit behind him on the bed as your hands pulled his hair out of the bun.

Only then did Zuko snap out of his thoughts. His long dark hair now free from the restraint. “Can I?”

He didn't even need to know what you were asking about because he knew that you wanted to brush his hair, so he gave you a quiet “yes.”

You softly brushed his hair, trying not to accidentally hurt him as Zuko slowly closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of the brush.

“Your hair has gotten so long,” you murmured, making Zuko smile slightly. He knew how much you loved his hair, but wearing it down was probably your favourite.

“Sometimes I feel like you only started liking me when my hair grew long.” Zuko jokingly said while leaning slightly back so that you could brush through his hair easier.

That made you chuckle softly, making your husband realise what you were thinking about. “Don't even dare say a word.”

And you stayed quiet, knowing how much he hated being reminded of his old hairstyle.

After a couple of minutes, you put the hairbrush on the bed and gently ran your fingers through his hair, making Zuko lean back even further just to feel your touch.

“Starving for my touch?” you cooed, a grin making its way onto your face as he chuckled. “Was it that easy to tell?”

“Very easy.” You whispered into his ear before gently turning his face to you with your hand on his cheek.

Not wasting another second, you leaned forward, pressing your lips gently against his. Just the slightest feeling of your plush lips always made him crave more as he tilted his head slightly to the side so that he was able to press his lips properly against yours.

None of it was rushed, taking your time as Zuko relaxed into the kiss even further, but before it could get heated, he slowly pulled back, his eyes searching for yours as you opened them.

“I love you,” he breathlessly whispered, now touching your forehead against his as you responded back with an “I love you too.”

it’s a sight that makes zuko feel like lead, molten rock that’s set in place and can’t be moved without effort. he feels out of body, watching you swallow — the haze of his own gaze finally clearing enough to see the way your throat bobs and your breathing finally evens. your chest, beneath falling blue and aquamarine robes, heaves at the smokey air down pouring into your lungs and you manicured fingers curl over his knees for steadiness. you stay there, on your own knees,  like a faithful follower of the fire nation despite the colour of your clothes and the power you possess — licking the cum, his cum, from your plush lips like it’s your first taste of heaven, putting on a good show for the man that usually has his wits about him. 

zuko’s soul still struggles to stay put amongst the working muscles of his body.

“that burned, zuko,” you squeal — a childish air about you. your annoyance is by all means faux, your mirthy eyes give you away, but you push your lips into some kind of irresistible pout nonetheless. leaning forward, you nuzzle against his softening bulge, half hard and dripping with opaque white at the tip. bright red, burning, blistering. your finger slides through the slit despite his sensitivity, before you peer up at him expectantly. 

it was hot when he came in your mouth. 

he’s barely recovered, static ringing true in his ears — clear hearing but a distant memory. “sorry, ‘m sorry,” zuko slurs and reaches for you at the same time, an ecstatic drawl extending the space between vowels and consonants. “know it gets hot, c’mere. does it hurt? you okay?”

even while trawling through the mugginess of his own mind — he still finds reason to pamper his princess. keep it gentle. caring. much more merciful than any fire lord before him. without any bother and a testament to his strength, zuko pulls you from your knees over the spread of his thighs, ensuring you stay open. that your barely clothed cunt can ooze directly into his lap from underneath your unnecessary abundance of robes. 

“it hurts,” you stick out your drooly tongue because you know exactly what you’re doing — breasts practically spilling out into his heated face, bright red enough to make the scar match the rest, pink muscle drooly, and your cunt so warm over his growing erection as you lean into him like a trust fall. “kiss it better.” 

demanding. much like the princess of a water tribe.

zuko tilts his head upwards, mouth finding yours as though you’re a magnet pulling him into orbit. like a soothing balm, his tongue rolls over yours in an attempt to heal a burn he knows your bending is more than capable of handling. his large palms, calloused from a lifetime of stoked flames, span up your spine and pull down the mast of your dignity. the furry collar of your robe now at the dimples of your lower back. 

“better?” he sighs into the kiss, breath warm where your noses nudge. “‘m sorry, mouth felt so good. should have pulled out….”

“you don’t mean that,” there’s no rush to your movements despite the feverishness that builds against your bodies, but you’re not undetectable either. the slightest rock to your hips causes a hitch in the firelord’s breathing and a hiccup in the way he clings to your kisses like a life line. he knows,  by the way your fingers dip into a sea of obsidian locks and pulls just enough to make him whimper, that you’re yet to tire and finish with him. “you’re not sorry.” 

an abundance of slick trickles into his lap, a small stream that could soon turn into a rushing river. you grind down against zuko’s cock in circular, sinful motions — enjoying the press of his thick shaft between folds that swell with arousal. the veins that spiral down him pulse against your puffy clit — he’s almost surprised at how much swallowing him down your throat turns you on, the wet pull and push of your sexes against one another echoing across the four walls of his chambers. you lick over rows of perfect teeth and he sucks the drool from your tongue, he’s never been one to waste a good meal.

“i am.”

it’s a quiet, determined statement that tapers into a pathetic whine. a sound too pretty to be kept a secret, which is why you draw back from the sloppy exchange of kisses to watch a flurry of dark hair fall back against the wall behind him — fire sealed eyes rolling away into the shadows to meet the dusk behind his eyelids. 

“then prove it.” you murmur carefully.

like you’ve placed your chess piece dangerously on the board. like you’re daring him. like you’re a little trickster come out to play.

you find your place, face nestled into his neck and curtained by dark hair. zuko is steady, warm, heavy-set and firm beneath you by all physical means — but his restraint is fragile, like it’s something burnt to ashes seconds away from flaking into a gentle summery breeze. surprise unfolds neatly in your lower belly swirled with wanton when his palms splayed against your back turn into a hardened grip at your waist. his eyes remain locked away from the word, his breathing as even as the seas back home in the tropics just before a hurricane, his cock kicking against your syrupy cunt that falls to him in a tune familiar to those fallen victim to a mythical siren. 

the wisps of a soul leaves you this time. 

for similar reasons, for the way zuko grinds up to meet you just at the right time — the blunt tip of his cockhead nuzzled against your clit unlike strangers and more like soulmates. a lock and key that fits just perfectly. your lower lips spread to accommodate the size of his girth, chubby and long enough to keep you satiated. for a princess, your appetite remains largely, inappropriate, improper — not that you’d ever cared for behaving yourself and not that zuko couldn’t handle it. couldn’t handle you. 

the fire lord hauls you back and forth over his lap, fingertips pressed into the fat at your waist — their prints seared earnestly into your skin without fully meaning to. the marks darken, deepen prettily against the tone of your skin once your fluttering hole catches deliciously on his bulbous cockhead — milky against the gooey ring of muscle. zuko doesn’t push, he teases, deciding that he’s spoiled you with so many riches you can at least play nice for once. ask politely. he knows you can.

“does it feel… feel like i’m sorry yet?” midnight hair tickles your cheeks as the side of his head cuddles up against yours — searching for a kiss that he knows will soon come. on instinct to squirm down, try to steal an inch or two like a thief searching for jewels with a blind reach into the dark. zuko doesn’t withdraw, too used to indulging you, one hand moving to grip your falling robes — using it to tug you down into the rhythmic pulse of his dick just begging to breach your silken walls. he’s so hot, yes physically, but the torridness of his shaft against your weeping mound nearly burns you from the inside out. your organs tangle from the salaciousness of it all, the only way to loosen the knot would be to have the firelord dig it out with his cock himself.

you pout into the crease of his neck, lips balmy on his skin. “zuko…”

you clench against the rigid veins decorating him, pulsating with blood rush, carrying lustful hormones straight to his sticky arousal soaked tip. 

“princess…” he matches your warning.

“fine,” you divulge, petulant and petty. “i forgive you. you’re sorry.” 

the fire lord lets his mercy rain down on you, at the end of his own patience, and fills your needy hole with a single — calculated thrust. zuko knows how much you can take and when, you’ve been wet through your clothes from the start and this build up has left you sodden for far too long. once more, his lips find yours like a practised tune, the notes easy to find again, the song of mouths meeting familiar to two. its deeper and full of an unwavering promise of pleasure, the broad stroke of his saliva spewing tongue against yours sends brilliant sparks ( like stones to start a flame ) through your entire being, aiding the lustful lurch in your stomach where zuko practically hits.

skin meets skin, damp with sweat and essence of ruin, there’s so much precum and slick he thinks you might have bended the fluid out of him. “does it still hurt?” he manages to speak, words insistent as he presses them behind your teeth like a secret exchanged between lovers that only meet under moonlight. the rest of him, burly arms and burning limbs, gather you up as if you weigh nothing — holding you inches above his cock as the pace turns febrile and delirious, to be expected of someone who plays with scalding temperatures on a daily basis. 

“mn— n-no!” you babble, hugging his head now, anything you say or do muffled by luscious locks or overlapped with sounds of sex. your ass ripples against the tops of his thighs, your breath mingles like a puff into cold air, foggy, and zuko never stops plunging deep into your silken walls to kiss your cervix, knock at that one spongy spot that has you wailing at a whistle tone only the finest of singers and entertainers can reach. 

“better, see?” zuko hums into your mouth, pouring in praises he can hardly find the brain function to say. it’s shaky but pleased. a short response because he wants to spend more time  drinking in your fractured mewls, the ones that come with the stacks of pressure building within you, cemented into place by powerful bucks of his hips upwards, into that dreamy core of yours. he drops you down a few inches on his girth, yearning for that high pitched little cry you do when you’re close and suddenly those fiery fingertips belonging to him flex against your cute clit. “can you cum like this?”

a meek nod from you, a clench from your creamy cunt. “yes — zuko please!” 

a crack at your bratty resolve, one that dissolves like sand in water. you’re a princess through and through, made to be pampered, easy to break once indulged. at least you’ve said please. your nerve endings are ruined and raw, your stomach muscles taught from attempts at working yourself down to zuko’s base, you quiver with every rise an squeak with every fall, bounced about like a useless little toy on the length of one of the most powerful men in the world all because you asked him to prove it. that he loved you, that he’d never hurt you; even though you’re entirely too aware of the fact. 

you had goaded him into something he’d excel at, something he looks so disastrously handsome at doing. fucking you with mussed black locks that tickle your temperate skin, disheveled red robes that pridefully boast the fire nation emblem as opposed to the delicate water tribe symbols you’ve known since your birth. his chest tinged pink with a blush zuko can never help when he has you like this, dripping into his lap enough to warrant a flood warning and crying his name like its word of worship. a testament to your faith. golden irises warm with tender love, something so soft and valuable that only you are able to set your sights on it.

something once in a lifetime, something rare like an eclipse.  

the thought alone is enough to have you undone. if not for the ravenous circles on your clit and the unrelenting pounding at your abused, flittering entrance. it’s his devotion and dedication for fighting your made up wrong, soothing the burn from the inside out. zuko senses the crescendo of your peak before you can even begin to think of announcing it, lifting you high from his lap when you gush obscenely and cry out to whatever higher power might be watching you make a mess on him right now. your sobs are choked and his groans are loud, whimpery and simpering as your honeyed nectar rolls in warmed waves down his stomach and pelvis. 

“there you go, love,” zuko praises you through your twitches and aftershocks without a second thought — breaching your rippling walls so that they milk a second orgasm out of him, selfishly he may admit. “you’re so pretty, so beautiful. i love you.” he says, apologetic when he doesn’t need to be, when he’s given you the stars and hung them amongst your whitening vision. 

he whimpers whoreishly, filling you to the brim with a frothy layer of his white seed — lining your entrance with a claim you refuse to let leak. you grip him tightly, both with your cunt and your shaky arms locked around his head for stability.

and even after all that, zuko’s shot of cum is just as hot lining your womb as it is landing on your tongue.

end ! likes are appreciated, but just liking doesn’t do much on tumblr! to support and motivate myself and other writers, reply, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!! — asks are open to thirsts and thoughts! join my taglist ! love you!

He said it so simply, so matter-of-factly, that you felt stunned by the sheer audacity that he was absolutely right. You turned back to your dough, attacking the next ball with more force than strictly necessary. “I absolutely mean it. Go away. Be the Firelord somewhere else. I have work to do.”

You heard him move closer. He stopped right behind you, close enough that you could smell the faint smoke-and-ember scent that always clung to him, like a hearthfire banked for the night.

“You’re doing the rolls wrong,” he murmured.

You had to suck in a deep breath to keep yourself from rolling your eyes to the back of your head.

“I am not.”

“You are. You’re making them too small. The one on the end is going to burn.”

You looked down at your perfectly shaped, uniformly sized rolls. They were fine. They were perfect. You had been making these exact rolls for seven years, and he had never once—not once—thanked you for making them, and now he wanted to criticize?

You picked up no more than a palm of flour and threw it at him.

Zuko could’ve dodged. He knew what was coming. He’d dodged worse things than flying flour—fire, knives, and the occasional well-aimed shoe from his friends. But he didn’t dodge. He stood there and let the flour hit him square in the chest, a puff of white dust blooming across the dark silk of his formal robe.

He looked down at himself. Then back at you.

“That,” he started, “was a three-hundred-year-old ceremonial robe. And perfectly good flour went to waste.”

“Good,” you huffed. “Maybe it’ll teach you not to critique my baking.”

He brushed at the flour, succeeding only in smearing it around. 

“You’re so childish.”

“Childish? I’m not the one who sneaks into the kitchen at midnight to steal vegetables and complain about portion sizes.”

“I wasn’t complaining. I was merely stating my opinion.”

“Opinion that I did not ask for, Firelord.”

Zuko frowned at the title. You knew just how to get him to sulk and pout.

“I was being helpful.”

You made a sound of pure, undiluted exasperation. “You don’t know the first thing about cooking besides the basics, Zuko.”

“I also know how to make tea.”

“That doesn’t count.”

Zuko’s mouth pressed into a thin line—the one that meant he was trying not to smile and failing miserably. He looked ridiculous, standing there in his flour-dusted ceremonial robes with a half-eaten radish in one hand, hair loose that pooled behind his back, his cheeks flushed with something that might have been embarrassment or might have been the warmth of the kitchen.

You ignored the incessant feeling that clawed at your chest. Maybe it was the exhaustion getting to you.

“Sit down,” you sighed. “If you’re going to be in my way, at least be in my way sitting down.”

Zuko sat. He always sat, eventually. That was the thing about these midnight visits—he, for all the power he had as Firelord, was utterly compliant when it came to you. 

You finished shaping the rolls in silence, your hands moving automatically, your mind somewhere else entirely. You could feel him watching you with something that you knew all too well. Something that had been there for so long you’d stopped questioning it.

“You look tired,” he said, finally.

“I look like I’ve been cooking for fourteen hours,” you replied. “Which I have.”

“You should sleep more.”

“I could, but the prep wouldn’t finish all of this, now would it?”

“I hired a lot of people in the royal kitchen for you not to do all of this.”

“Well, I like doing all of this my way,” you hummed. “It helps when I’m alone. Have you eaten?”

He didn’t answer. That was answer enough.

You sighed, reaching for a covered dish by the pantry. You set the dish in front of him with a spoon.

“It’s still warm.”

Zuko looked at the noodles. “You saved these for me?”

“I saved them for the compost,” you noted flatly. “You just happened to be here.”

He ate them. All of them. 

“(Name),” he said once he finished.

“Don’t,” you said, because you knew that tone. You’d heard it a hundred times, in a hundred different ways, and you weren’t ready for whatever was coming next.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t say something that’s going to make this weird.”

Zuko huffed. “I’m not going to make it weird.”

“You’re always going to make it weird. You have a gift.”

He frowned—not his angry frown, but the one that crinkled the unscarred side of his face and made him look softer. “I was just going to say thank you.”

“For the noodles?”

Oh. That was new.

“For… everything. For being here. For putting up with me.” He gestured vaguely at the kitchen, at the flour on his robes, at the half-eaten radish now on a clean tray.

“For all of this.”

You felt your throat tighten. You turned back to the dough, even though the rolls were already finished and covered and ready to just set. “You don’t have to thank me. It’s my job.”

“It’s not your job to throw flour at me.”

“That part’s a bonus,” you told him smugly. “Perks of being employed by the Firelord, I guess.”

There was something in the air; you were sure of it. It could be the dust motes or the warmth of the fire burning until it reaches its last embers.

Something that you were scared to address because you didn’t want to ruin what you already had.

“You’ve got flour on your face,” Zuko said.

“So do you.”

“No, I mean—” He stood up, crossed the few steps between you, and before you could react, his hand was cupping your jaw, his thumb brushing gently across your cheekbone, wiping away the streak of flour you’d forgotten about.

His hand was warm. They were always warm, firebenders—Zuko especially, like a banked coal that never quite went out. But this warmth was different. This warmth was certain. His thumb lingered for a moment longer than necessary, and his eyes—those impossible, burning gold eyes—were fixed on yours, and you swore you forgot how to breathe.

“There,” he murmured. “Got it.”

You should have stepped back. You should’ve deflected and went back to familiar territory. That was the dance you and him had been doing for seven years—push and pull, bicker and banter, never quite crossing the line into whatever lay beyond.

But you didn’t step back. And he didn’t let go.

“Zuko,” you said, and his name came out wrong—too breathless—like the longing you tried so hard to bury had finally resurfaced.

“(Name),” he replied, and there was something in his voice you’d never heard before. Something that sounded like fear, like hope, like the moment before a flame catches.

It’s something. And that something was both terrifying and something that you now wanted to name. To acknowledge and finally be honest.

“You should go,” you whispered, but you didn’t mean it, and he knew it.

“I know,” he said, and didn’t move.

His hand was still on your face. His thumb was still tracing slow, absent patterns on your cheekbone. You could feel the calluses on his fingers—sword calluses, firebending calluses, the hard-won scars of a boy who’d had to fight for everything he’d ever gotten. 

“If you’re going to kiss me,” you started, because you had gotten tired of waiting and because you’d never been good at keeping your mouth shut, “you should probably do it before I change my mind.”

Zuko’s breath caught. You thought you’d misread everything—thought you’d finally pushed too far, broken the fragile thing between you with your bluntness and your sharp tongue and your inability to just let things be.

Then he kissed you. Soft and chaste. You swore that feeling in your chest had never been happier.

You broke apart eventually, foreheads resting together, breathing the same warm kitchen air. Zuko’s hands had moved to your waist, his fingers curled into the fabric of your apron like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

“That was—” he started.

“Seven years overdue,” you finished, smiling.

He laughed. “I was going to say ‘nice.’”

“It was nice,” you agreed. “But you can do better.”

His eyes widened, settling upon the realization. “Is that a challenge?”

“It’s an observation.”

“You and your observations.”

“You and your—mmph!”

He kissed you again, rude to not have let you finish, and this time it wasn’t shy at all. The dough lay forgotten for a while, but that’s okay; you’ll have the Firelord’s help to help you remake another batch.