honey

“it’s my granny’s birthday this weekend,” you drawl, looping your finger around a lock of his hair. you hold it straight underneath your nose like a moustache just so you can see his eyes quirk in amusement.

“i thought your grandparents were dead?” he asks, robust yet tender like the flames he uses to reheat your cold teas.

you let go of his hair, slapping his arm lightly.

“my blood grandparents, yes. i’m talking about my granny! she’s looked after everybody since we were babies. i’ve never known life without her.”

zuko hums, listening and unmoving.

“how old is she turning?”

“one hundred and eighteen. impressive, right?”

zuko pouts at you out of habit. just because you’re so close and he’s right there. you meet his lips in a wet smack, stretching your leg to rest over his lower stomach.

“you want me to come to her birthday i’m assuming?” he cocks his head slightly, picking an eyelash off your cheek.

that bluntness, the obvious statement now held between you both, makes you horribly shy. instead of his eyes, you’re looking at his nose. grumbling to yourself.

having a relationship with the fire lord, whilst you were a earthbender (one of the best, might you add!) from one of the smallest tribes wasn’t the easiest. for one, you knew the fire council wasn’t the most supportive with wanting fire royalty to stay firebenders, your dates would occasionally come with an entourage of help and your schedules often proved difficult to line up.

though you and zuko made it work, which lead you to the next stage. introducing him to your tribe.

“everyone’s inviting their boyfriends. a few have some from different tribes and kingdoms!” you draw your finger along his hard chest making incoherent shapes, missing out the clear fact that none of them are royalty, however. it’s a slow whisper, “i want you to be there too.”

your hand is snatched from his chest, curled into a fist and your knuckles are pressed against his lips. the eye contact alone gets your stomach swirling with lust. your leg hitches higher on his chest.

“i’ll be there. for sure.”

your smile could light up the night sky. could rule the tide and guide boats home. zuko finds it difficult to say no to you, especially when all your wants and asks are pretty much within his means. besides getting you a flying bison. he still hasn’t broken the news that it’s not likely you can have one since neither of you are airbenders. anyway.

but to you, as much as you love the luxuries his life can provide, you don’t see him as the royal fire lord. you treat him casually, like his friends do and at this earth tribe party, his only title will be yours. it’s times when you try to demand him to return back to bed in the morning that will always drive him crazy. these aren’t dynamics that are supposed to work, but they do.

“okay,” you roll your lips in, then out before flinging your whole body onto him in an embrace. it’s easy. how his arms circle around your smaller frame, your face tucking into his neck to place a kiss and how his gravely chuckle jumps out of him.

“okay, okay,” he squeezes your asscheek playfully, “what does your granny like? i can go down to the market and get her a few things.”

“you don’t need to get a gift, zu. i’m making her a bracelet that can be from the both of us.”

zuko’s grin doesn’t let up. the idea that even though he is your boyfriend, he will turn up empty handed and name your gift as his? 

“sweet, but i’m not doing that. heavens forbid.”

you roll your eyes but lay your lips over his in a kiss which only turns into him pushing you onto your back into his bed and opening your legs so he can slot between them.

on the day of your granny’s birthday, you meet zuko without his entourage outside of your home.

“hello baby.”

you pause for half a second before resuming your pace. that doesn’t last long until you’re jogging up to meet zuko, just to look at him closer and faster.

“hi! you look adorable,” you coo and he doesn’t swat away your fluttering hand. he lets you cup his cheek, your eyes gazing all the way down his body.

he’s still in fire nation robes, but civilian ones. he stands before you, in your kingdom, sans a crown or any golden jewellery, his armour off. just burgundy trousers, black boots, a classic grey long sleeve undershirt and a maroon tunic on top. you know the fire insignia will be sewn on the inside of the sleeves if you had a look. the gold thread on the collar and ends of his undershirt are the only signs of wealth and quality. aside from that, he appears to just be your firebending boyfriend, going to an elder’s birthday.

zuko’s got his hair all up in a bun, one he’s embarrassed to have attempted numerous times to get perfect, so you looking at him with gooey eyes causes him to puff out his chest in pride. he lets a few hairs frame his face and like always, you tuck the side that covers his scarred eye behind his ear. the one thing that will always make it difficult to not mistake him for being the fire lord.

you’re too engrossed in his appearance to notice the wooden box he’s holding, about the width of his chest and four inches outwards.

“you look beautiful,” he hums, bending down to meet your face, “kiss me hello, princess.”

“thank you, kind sir,” you play, slinking your arms around his neck as he adjusts to hold the box on one hip.

outside your quiet apartment, zuko slips his tongue into your mouth, pulling you to him with a bare hand on the sliver of skin exposed from your sage bandeau and loose brown linen trousers. he grunts into the kiss, feeling the rumble of his large body with your hand on his chest.

“i’m so nervous for this,” he whispers against your lips, pulling you back in by sucking your tongue. you don’t have to reply before you’re practically moaning into his mouth, careful not to mess up his bun with the desperate need to rake your fingers over his scalp.

you manage to pull away, slightly breathless, “no, you don’t have to be! i’ve told everyone i’m bringing someone.”

he drops his head to your shoulder with a sigh, “but do they know it’s me?”

you smile, just a tiny one, “they’ve never met you.”

he growls into your neck, “you know what i’m asking.”

“do they know you’re the great and powerful fire lord?” he pokes your side and you yelp in a giggle, “two of my friends know of you. but nobody knows you but me.”

zuko lifts his head.

“nobody knows zuko, my zuko.”

he exhales, rubs his hand down his face.

“if i love you, so will everyone else,” you comfort, taking his hand in yours to start walking to the party, “now what’s in the box?”

the only people that mention zuko being the fire lord are a group of your little cousins who run circles around him, pulling at his maroon garments to get his attention.

there’s three of them— all missing teeth, holding stones to practice earthbending and full of questions for your boyfriend.

“are you the fire lord? you look like him!”

“no. he doesn’t have the crown.”

“but he’s only got one eyebrow,” your cousin points to their own eyebrows, “see, we have two.”

“is it true you know the avatar?”

“can i see some fire tricks? i can show you my earthbending!” complete with your cousin throwing her rocks in the air and them all plopping onto the ground with a clonk.

“zuko can talk to you all later about firebending. now where’s great granny?” 

amongst all the balloons, banners and food, you follow the little fingers to the back where there is a stone stool, covered in forest coloured cushions and orange flowers. your granny is seated right in the middle, surrounded the older members of the tribe and all your agemates.

zuko smiles at the kids, lays his palm out in front of him to show off a quick small burst of fire. they all release a chorus of wows. “i’ll show you later if my lady here lets me.”

you roll your eyes, grabbing his heated palm as the kids squeal, “c’mon!”

zuko’s grip gets tighter when you near your family. all in multiple different shades of mossy green to honey yellows with the earth insignia at the sleeves. 

“happy birthday granny!” you squeal, letting go of zuko to kiss your granny’s wrinkled yet soft cheek and hold her calloused hands. “are you enjoying your day?”

“my dear, i’m happy to see you’ve made it,” she squeezes your fingertips, crinkled eyes squinting up at you. there’s screams of kids in the background, the teens playing further back and your siblings chatting at one of the tables. but in the presence of your granny, your world stills, listening to every word she says.

“of course!” then you gesture zuko to come forward. he does cautiously, bowing lightly to your granny, the woman who’s taken part in raising you your whole life. “this is zuko,” then you giggle girlishly, “i think he’s the love of my life.”

you tell zuko this often, without the i think at the beginning. wrapped in his arms in bed, sugar dusted confessions beneath the sheets or when you take walks along the ocean at midnight. a few times it’s slipped out when he served you plates of food in front of his friends and every single time, he ends up with cheeks as red as his clothes.

“is it now? let me see this boy.”

zuko takes that as his turn to talk, hoping the sweat along his brow isn’t reflecting in the sun, “hello granny. it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

the smile your granny had for you falls, eyeing down the man you brought with you. you watch as she runs her eyes over his clothing, the golden stitching of his undershirt, his new freshly ironed robes. then his eye, the raised reddened skin around it.

“is this the fire lord?” she asks you and zuko’s wide pupils bounce to yours.

“that’s just his day job—,”

“do you love my child?” she presses, her attention back on zuko. 

even you can’t judge where she’s going with this, your posture straightening as you await zuko’s answer, like there’s a possibility he will deny you in front of everyone you love.

it seems to be the easiest question of the day as zuko, still holding his gift, nods. “of course, with my whole heart. the easiest thing i’ve ever done.”

“awe,” you whisper and zuko grabs your hand with an ease unlike before.

one of your (rather annoying) aunties butt in, arms folded, seizing up the fire lord. “yn is one of our most beautiful women.”

“yn’s beauty is the least interesting thing about her.”

it’s as if the whole tribe goes silent, not quite understanding what zuko means. though here you see the qualities of the fire lord rise to the surface with the speed of a wildfire. 

he stands tall, straight, rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand.

your granny squints with questioning, while your aunties gather with furrowed brows.

“yn is strong, kind and an intellectual. strong with her bending, strong in her willpower, strong to handle everything life throws at her and still stays by me day after day. the kindest human i’ve ever met. i’ve never seen her think about herself first and she’s shown me love in a way i’ve missed my whole life.” he kisses your palm, “checks for my wounds, offers to manage my accounts. then the smartest smartest person. proves me wrong daily, knows the most random facts and could rule a kingdom if she wanted. though she’d never admit it.”

you swat his arm at that, shyly looking to the ground, “stop zu!”

he laughs, his amber eyes are the softest they’ve ever been. he looks nothing like the fire lord who sits on his throne with the layers of robes and heavy golden jewellery. here he looks like a local boy from another nation, convincing his family he’s made for you.

“but also yes, yn is beautiful. i knew from the day i saw her that i’d love her.”

there’s a range of emotions on the members of your tribe. some with watery eyes, others with gleeful smiles. a few in awe, at the fire lord so effortlessly baring his soul for you in front of everyone who loves you.

“hm,” your granny huffs but you don’t miss the crescent moon smiles in her eyes, “you’d look good in green. yn you must have a shawl you can give him. a scarf?”

a peace offering. you chuckle, nodding unable to take your eyes off zuko, “yes i can, if he wants?”

earth nation robes reminds zuko of a specific period of his youth. he did look good in them. “sure. a shade that goes with the red.”

“also, i got this as a gift for you,” zuko bows when he hands the box to your granny, lightly settling it on her lap. 

your granny loves a gift, a fact you didn’t mention to zuko because you knew it would only stress him out more. “oh! you didn’t have to, my boy.”

zuko glances over at you, in shock already. my boy? you shrug playfully.

“delicacies from my kingdom.”

the wooden chest is opened to find cheeses, fruits and chocolate over green fabric. some foods you’ve yet to even try. you point to a chocolate in the corner, white chocolate stripes over a block of milk chocolate. 

“that one looks tasty!”

but you’re forgotten as your granny takes zuko’s hand with a greedy smile, you’re wondering if your boyfriend is about to get poached. “what a thoughtful gift. i will be trying these all.”

“everyone loves you here,” you whisper to him as you drunkenly sway to the music your family members play in the distance. “almost as much as i do.”

after practically sharing zuko with every mother, father, auntie, uncle, cousin and your granny who even told your boyfriend to pull up a chair after dinner to talk, finally they’ve given him back to you.

all in one green and red piece. 

he’s only had a few drinks, nothing close to how many you’ve thrown back but with your tribe, you’ve always been able to relax. for zuko, it’s the first time he’s ever seen you so… yourself in public.

you’re not overthinking every comment you make. your laughs are booming, not covering your mouth. you also inhale all the food on the tables, swearing it’s better than anything he’s ever tasted because your tribe made it.

you’ve danced with every family member, dragged him away from your cousins when he had to answer his twentieth question about the avatar but just as you get him, your teen cousins ask him to spar. this time you fold your arms in front of zuko, protecting him from their weedy selves, “he’s here for granny and me! not to fight you!”

“sorry, have to listen to the misses here.” he pipes up.

so in zuko’s arms, away from your tribe, you appreciate the reprieve they give. 

“how about i give up being the fire lord and just become your husband here?” he chuckles, kissing your forehead as he sways you to the music. zuko’s hands appropriately stay on your hips, despite the desperate want to grope you just a little.

you stare at him with wet round eyes, bottom lip jutted out, “don’t tempt me and you better not be proposing to me here.”

you’re pretty with the candle lights surrounding you, braided hair dancing to the opposite way of your hips. there’s even a daffodil tucked into a braid by an auntie earlier. the more you’ve drunk, zuko’s been on watch that your skirt is still facing the correct way and your bandeau isn’t revealing too much cleavage that you’d usually allow. every clothing adjustment attempt zuko’s made has been met with a deviant smirk from you.

you’re about to kiss him, yank his hair out of his bun and have his gorgeous locks flow all around his face. instead you have to throw up a wall of dirt when a little cousin comes zooming to your feet. “go back to auntie! zuko’s mine now.”

there’s a loud whine when the kid spins around, pottering back off.

“i’m not proposing to you now. you’ll know when i’m proposing to you.” he hums, kissing your cheek, pulling you tight to his chest. he inhales your hair like he always does, peppermint and wafts of orange. 

“okay. not now though, i’m not ready yet,” you tell him firmly and zuko’s smile stays put. he nods in understanding. “i loved your little speech earlier.”

his cheeks beam a berry red, looking away from your piercing gaze. you look like you want to eat him in one gulp whilst simultaneously take your time with him. 

“just wanted everyone to know i am serious about you and you know, despite my title and priorities… you’re important to me.” his lashes flutter over to you at the end. the grip on your hips tighten, pulling you in to feel his hardening length against your stomach. your next inhale is sharp.

“d-don’t. my family is here.” you warn, but you still snuggle against him, wrapping your arms around his neck and rubbing your nose against his, “you can’t be adorable and…” he brushes his lips along your jaw. you clench your eyes shut. “zu… we can’t. later.”

“i know, i know,” and you hear the lust heavy and thick in his voice. he lays one kiss behind your ear, “i love you more today than i did yesterday.”

you want to tug his hair, have him expose that throat so you can mark it up. “i love you too, so much more. you were so sweet with everyone, made me want to cry. take you home for myself.”

you shiver at the brush of cold air as the sky darkens, the lights surrounding you getting brighter to manage. zuko is quick, shrugging off the shawl you gave him earlier to wrap around your shoulders and lightly heating his hands to hug you back into him.

“i was on my best behaviour, wasn’t i?” he grins, stunning as always. your stomach can’t help but heat.

you nod, chewing down on your lip, “one more hour, we pack up the food and we go, okay?”

“it’s up to you, baby. whenever you want.”

“i’m rewarding you when we get back.” your tone ends on a sensual tilt, one that has all the blood in zuko’s body rushing south.

“you’ll be on my face then,” he mumbles and you can’t reply because aunties are rushing over to you, dragging you back into the crowd to sing songs and listen to stories.

you sigh and rest your head on your vanity, not feeling like finishing your makeup when your betrothed is worlds away from you. he'd been your best friend first, too. so now you are missing both your closest companion and your dear fiance. you two weren't meant to leave each other's sides the few months before your wedding, and yet here you are, moping with no idea when he'll be back-

you hear a voice, his voice, calling your name from the doorway.

your head snaps up so fast you nearly hurt your neck, but you have to see if you're hallucinating or not. you'd been whining to one of your attendants, "do you know when he'll be back? is he nearly done? when do i get to see him again?" just yesterday, and she'd playfully told you to be patient, that he will be back in due time, that the more you ask, the more worried you'll be. "just don't fret, darling." were her final words.

as if it were that easy.

but now here he is, standing there in formal attire, staring at you like he can't believe you're real either.

it's a moment of disbelief, perhaps nerves as well, as the two of you stand and stare at each other, before you're both bolting forwards, trying to meet each other in the middle. there isn't any communication of how the embrace will be, but he just knows to bend down a little so he can catch you while you leap into his arms, locking your limbs around him.

zuko squeezes you as tightly as he can without hurting his beloved, one hand cradling your head while the other wraps around your body. the first thing he does is take a big inhale of your scent, eyes squeezing shut to try and memorize the moment in the present.

he exhales a shuddering breath, having held it in since he first saw you again. another soft whisper of your name, before he speaks, holding you tighter. "i thought about this-" he starts, voice murmured into your hair. "-every night. every single night, i thought about getting to feel you again."

his voice is so soft. you know him to be a little uptight and reserved with his feelings, but they come out unrestrained and sighed almost dreamily. he pulls back just enough to get a better look at you, stroking your hair and looking into your eyes. "zuko..." you murmur, eyes filling with tears.

the consolidation comes immediately, and his eyes search yours sympathetically. "no don't cry," he whispers hugging you closer. "i'm here now, i won't leave again as long as i can help it, i swear it."

with his brows drawn together, he reaches around to hold your jaw, wiping some of your soft tears and smoothing his thumb over the pout on your lips. "i'm here now," he repeats, leaning his forehead against yours before placing the softest kiss to your mouth, reassuring and achingly gentle.

he justs wants to take care of you now. his princess.

walking onto the bed and laying you down with such carefulness, he kisses you again, deeper this time, so that his mouth connects perfectly with yours, your lips moving together with practiced ease. it's as if there was no time apart between the two of you at all.

he sighs your name once again into your mouth, coaxing his tongue along the seam of your lips to ask for permission. eagerly, you welcome him into your mouth, moaning at the sensation of his tongue laving over yours, tasting you.

using his big hands to tip your face upwards, he deepens the kiss and keeps you in place while slowly starting to undress you. you help him, brushing off his heavy robes and undergarments before he helps you out of yours, wanting you nude and bare for him so he can remind himself how beautiful you are underneath layers of clothing. "so beautiful," he praises, parting from your mouth just to descend his kisses lower, down your throat, your clavicle and shoulders, towards your breasts.

he kisses each seperately before mouthing at the left one, busying his hand with palming your aching pussy, spreading you and then slipping a finger inside your warm hole. you're tighter than he remembers. perhaps a month of celibacy had made you that way. he'll be sure to get your cunt to mold to the shape of his cock once more. but for now, he needs to get a second finger in you to stretch you out in prepreation.

your hand fists in his long hair, pulling it out of its ponytail so that the long strands fall all over you, and you brush back the long front pieces so you can see his eyes while he pumps a thick finger in you while suckling on your breast - now finally switching to the other one once your nipple had gotten too tender and swollen. "mnh- zuko... gentle, i'm so sensitive now." you plead, squirming when he curls his finger inside you, pressing upwards against that one tiny weak spot inside you you'd thought he forgot about after all his time away.

seeing you flinch and let out a shuddering moan when he finds it, he focuses his attention there, spreading your pussy lips and twisting a second finger inside you so he can press two against the spot now, groaning when you pull his hair a little harder as your orgasm fast approaches.

"i know," he says around your breast. "it's like i've never fucked you before, love."

his voice is so honeyed and sweet; it's the same tone he uses on you when you're on your garden walks and he finds a flower to put behind your ear, or when he's doing other kinds of sweet things to you. for you. and yet he's using it again now while pumping his fingers knuckles deep inside your sopping hole and marking your chest with lovebites. you love that voice. the longer he talks, the closer you get to-

"do you wanna cum for me? i'll let you cum if you ask nicely."

fuck.

your head tips back and your eyes roll as he pushes one finger against that same weak spot while the other bends and twists inside you, and with one weak, cried out "please!" your back arches off the bed and you cum around his fingers with your walls fluttering and moans leaving your parted lips with no restraint.

he fucks you with his fingers all throughout, revelling in the way you tighten up and gush out liquids down his wrist. he grins into your chest, lifting his head to see your eyes while you cum. it's the prettiest sight he's ever seen.

zuko sits up, pulling his fingers out of you and cleaning them off with his tongue, looking down at you so you can see him tasting you off his fingers.

you whine and reach down to palm at his cock, no longer able to wait to have him inside you, filling you up to the hilt with his warm, thick length.

his heart warms at your eagerness, and he sits up, palming his achingly hard dick in his big hand, huffing hot and heavy breaths while looking down at your face, eyes wide and glossy. he rubs your clit with the thumb of his free hand, trying to coax you to relax. he needs your pussy to take him in one go, and you're still a little too tight. "hold on," he whispers, even as you frown and try to shift forward.

he finally angles the head of his cock at your pussy, rubbing it through your tender folds and against your clit, tapping it against you just to hear you whimper and cling to him tighter. then finally, he notches the head of his cock inside you and pushes slowly inside you.

the stretch is immediate.

your walls immediately cling around his cock as he sinks in deeper and deeper, and you both moan together while his hands move up to curl through each of yours, fingers linking between your smaller ones and clinging tight to soothe you through the slight pain of his big cock filling you up for the first time in thirty days.

"zuko faster," you plead softly when he's around halfway deep, and he blinks down at you, long hair fanning down onto your face at your request. he thought you'd want him to go slow and gentle until you're settled with him inside you, but he was wrong. with a nod, he squeezes your hand and watches your face scrunch up at the emptiness when he rears back, before slamming back in.

he starts fucking you fast and deep, pulling back and then pushing his cock back inside you. then, he leans down and begins to press an open mouthed kiss to your throat, already marked from his kisses from earlier. he pushes his lips against a fresh love bite, nearly purring with delight when you shudder and clamp down around him with delight. "is that better for you?" he whispers against your skin, lifting his head to move his kisses up to your cheeks while rutting into you. such a soothing gesture.

"yes, oh my- zuko more!" you plead, tilting your head to capture his mouth into another kiss. spurred on, he snaps his hips into yours, tipping his pelvis upwards so his cock buries deeper in your pussy and pushes against yet another weak spot that's deep inside you. you can nearly feel him in your guts now.

"i just- fuck, i missed you so much. mngh." he doesn't need you to answer him, because he knows you missed him and thought about him just as much by the way your pussy tightens and milks his cock with each thrust. the blunt head of his cock presses right by the spot that makes your tummy flutter, and you push your body down so you can suck in more of his cock.

your mouth falls agape with his still pressed against yours, and again, he wraps his tongue around yours as the head of his cock nudges your cervix. 

his cock is throbbing inside you, pre-cum lubing up your insides and adding to the pre-existing slick from your neediness and your previous orgasm, and his balls twitch each time they make contact with the curve of your ass. you can tell he's close, but he's holding back from spilling into you until you cum again. he gets off best when he makes you feel good first.

"give me another one," he pleads gently after pulling his mouth off yours, relishing in the way your tongue slips off his and leaves strings of saliva in it's wake. "wanna feel you cream around my cock this time."

and that's all his takes. squeezing his hands and letting him push his cock in you to the hilt, his pelvis rubbing against your swollen clit, you cum again, but this time on his cock, bucking against him and rolling your body forward so his heavy tip grinds into your womb while you soak his cock with your creamy cum. as you tighten around him and your cum floods along his cock and down his balls, he finishes too, right inside you where it belongs.

your orgasm continues through his, and your legs shake while his hot, thick load fills you up.

and for the first time in thirty days, you feel whole again.

want more? my last zuko fic

see more in my misc masterlist

He opened his mouth to protest, but you had already waved at the vendor. “Hi, Auntie Yin! Two sesame buns, please—and an extra one with chili if they’re still warm?”

The older woman squinted, then lit up with recognition. “[Name], you’re back! And you brought your prince again.”

Auntie Yin's husband cleared his throat. “Isn’t it Firelord, technically—”

“Pfft,” Auntie Mei waved him off with a flour-dusted hand. “Not when you’re standing in my bread line, young man.”

You laughed, leaning into Zuko as you accepted the little bundle of warm bread. “You see why I come back here?”

Just as he was about to hand in some coins, you had stopped his hand mid-way. He looked at you with a small pout, definitely confused.

“Zuko, no.”

“But—“

“We’re going to fight over this, so no.”

“I don’t like arguing with you,” he murmurs.

You pat his hand solemnly. “I know,” you say. “So I’m paying. End of story.”

He didn’t answer anything else until you raised the bun for him to take the first bite. It was crisp on the outside, soft and buttery in the middle, with little black sesame seeds clinging to his lips, the spice just right to not overpower the actual buttery taste. He closed his eyes briefly.

“I remember this,” he said. “I used to sneak out with my uncle, and we’d get these. He used to say—” His voice caught slightly, swallowing with a pleased nod. “—he used to say the best food in the Fire Nation was always on the street, never behind palace walls.”

Your smile softened.

“He was right.”

You wandered deeper into the market, weaving between stalls draped with silks, lanterns, and every kind of fried thing imaginable. People bumped into each other without apology, children shouted as they chased each other with little wooden dragons, and somewhere nearby, a flute player added a gentle melody to the thick scent of roasted peanuts and smoke.

Zuko tilted his head slightly. “You know all of them.”

You shrugged. “Grew up here. Before my family moved to the coast, we lived two blocks down.”

“Wait, really?”

“Mhm. That stall with the yellow lanterns? That used to be where I bought pickled plums on my way home from school. And that guy—” you pointed to a tall man flipping meat over a roaring fire—“used to give me extra sticks if I said please and didn’t rat him out to his wife for snacking while he cooked. Kind guy, really. Just had a habit of snacking, not that I can blame him because they're really good.”

Zuko looked at you with something like awe. “You never told me any of this.”

“I like keeping some mystery,” you teased, passing him a skewer of fire-grilled mushrooms glistening with glaze. “Try this one. You used to like mushrooms, right?”

“I still like mushrooms.”

“Then don’t make that face and eat it.”

He bit into it, reluctantly. The glaze was spicy, sweet, and smoky all at once. He blinked. “Okay, fine. That’s—really good.”

“Told you.”

You two kept walking, you pausing every so often to wave or chat or haggle for something small—an herbal tea, a dumpling wrapped in banana leaf, or dried fruit you tucked into the folds of your sleeve for later. Zuko stayed mostly quiet, watching you, feeling the tension in his chest unwind inch by inch. Your laugh was infectious, the kind that made other people smile without realizing it. More than once, he found himself smiling too, caught off guard by the sound.

At one point, you dragged him over to a table surrounded by children and old men playing tile games.

“[Name], my girl!” one of them called, holding up a tile. “Still cheating at dragon tiles?”

“Only when you let me win,” you said with a wink.

Zuko stood beside you, bemused. “You’ve played dragon tile in public?”

“She won in public,” one of the elders cackled. “Took my whole snack allowance for the week.”

You handed over a few coins with a mock-guilty face. “Here, I owe you for that.”

“Isn’t there a law that states it’s illegal to play mahjong in public?”

...

"I don't know, is there?"

Before he could dwell on the thought for too long, you had already been ushering Zuko to the next stop. “You’ve been in more street fights than I have.”

“You’d be surprised what people will bet when they think a girl in ribbons doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

“I think I married a con artist.”

You gave him a pleased smile. “Took you this long to figure that out?”

You rounded a quieter corner of the market as the last of the sun dipped behind the rooftops. Lanterns glowed in the gathering dusk, and music trickled through the air. You led him to a little bench tucked between two carts, one selling sticky rice and the other spiced nuts. You flopped down with a sigh, tugging him beside you.

For a while, you two just sat.

Zuko leaned back, watching the lanterns sway in the breeze.

“This was… good.”

You bumped your shoulder against his. “You don’t always have to be Firelord, you know.”

“I kind of do,” he said, but it was quiet.

“You kind of don’t. Not with me, at least.”

He turned to look at you. “I don’t think I ever realized how much I missed this kind of quiet.”

You hummed. “That’s what I’m here for. To remind you.”

Zuko hesitated for a moment, then rested his hand on yours, lacing your fingers together, his finger idly playing with the ring on yours. It's nice, he thinks, just being with you like this. The market was bustling around you, but for a moment, it all faded—just a man and his beloved, full of street food and soft lantern light, sharing a bench and a memory and the kind of peace he was still learning to let himself have.

You didn't buy the stoicism for a heartbeat. You moved toward him, the soft thud of your boots on the rug the only sound in the tense air. "You're hurt. Don't you dare tell me you're fine when you're literally leaning on the doorframe for support, Zuko." Your eyes scanned him, noting the way his jaw remained locked tight, the muscle jumping in his cheek.

His eyes, usually so sharp and focused, were slightly glazed, shielded by the long, dark lashes that cast shadows over his high cheekbones. "I didn't want to bother the others," he said, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Katara is... she’s busy with the reconstruction efforts in the lower plaza. I didn't want to add to her burden."

The lie was as transparent as thin ice. You knew Katara would have dropped everything for him, and more importantly, he knew it too. He had come here because he wanted you. You felt a surge of maternal fury mixed with a terrifyingly sharp affection. "Busy? Zuko, you are the Fire Lord! She would heal you in seconds. Why are you being so incredibly dense? You're bleeding through your silks and you’re worried about being a 'burden'?"

You were scolding him now, your voice rising in pitch, hands gesturing wildly. "Did you even stop at the infirmary? Did you even drink any water? I swear, for a master firebender, you have the survival instincts of a moth flying into a torch. If you die of an infected gut wound because you were too shy to ask for help, I will personally travel to the Spirit World just to kick your royal ass back to the physical plane!"

Zuko’s face flushed a deep, pomegranate red, his good eye widening at your tirade. He looked like he wanted to argue, but a particularly sharp pang of pain shot through him, causing him to double over. A low groan escaped his lips, a sound of pure, unadulterated agony that silenced your shouting instantly.

"Sit," you commanded, your voice dropping to a stern, low vibrato. You pointed to the edge of your bed. "Now. And take off those robes. All of them. I need to see the damage."

He hesitated, his fingers fumbling with the golden fastenings of his outer tunic. His hands were shaking, the skin of his knuckles scraped raw. "Here? I... I don't think..."

"Zuko," you snapped, though the edge was softened by the tremor in your own hands as you reached for your water basin. "I am a healer. I have seen bodies before. Now move before I have to call the palace guards to help me strip you, and we both know how much you’d hate the gossip."

With a defeated sigh that turned into a hiss of breath through his teeth, he began to peel back the layers. The red silk fell away, revealing a chest built of hard, lean muscle and a map of old scars. The most prominent was the jagged, puckered mark on his stomach—the legacy of Azula’s lightning. It was angry now, the skin around it swollen and bruised a sickly shade of purple and yellow. He moved to the bed, lying back with a grunt, his long legs dangling off the edge.

You knelt beside him, the cool water in your bucket shimmering under the candlelight. As you called the water to your palms, a glowing orb of cerulean light, you found your gaze wandering. He was breathtaking. His shoulders were broad, tapering down to a narrow waist and flat, tensed abdominals. The light played off the sweat-slicked skin of his collarbones, and you could see the rapid pulse in his neck.

You felt your own face heat up. You were supposed to be focusing on the subcutaneous tissue, the internal bruising, the way the lightning scar was pulling at the surrounding fascia. Instead, you were noticing the way his chest hair thinned toward his navel and the sheer power held in his resting limbs. You were staring. You were definitely staring.

"Is it... is it that bad?" Zuko’s voice broke the silence, making you jump. He was looking up at you, his expression a mix of vulnerability and confusion. "You've been holding that water for a minute now. Am I going to lose the kidney?"

"What? No!" You felt the water wobble in your grasp. "I was just... assessing. Calculating the depth of the trauma. Don't be dramatic."

"You looked like you were off in another world," he said, a small, teasing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth despite his pain. "How have you been, anyway? Since I left for the front? I realized I didn't even ask."

The casualness of the question, after he’d nearly gotten himself killed, made your blood boil again. You glared at him, your eyebrows knitting together. "How have I been? I’ve been sitting here wondering if the Fire Lord was going to come back in a box or a litter! I don’t matter right now, Zuko. My well-being is perfectly stable, unlike your internal organs!"

Your frustration spiked, and your control over the element wavered. The glowing water in your hands suddenly dropped in temperature, crystals of frost blooming across its surface. Before you could pull back, the water—now a slushy, freezing mess—slapped down onto his heated, sensitive skin.

Zuko let out a high-pitched yelp, his entire body arching off the mattress as if he’d been struck by lightning all over again. "Cold! Spirits, that’s cold! Are you trying to heal me or turn me into a glacier?"

"Maybe if you didn't talk so much, I could concentrate!" you shot back, frantically trying to re-melt the ice. "You're like a giant furnace, Zuko! I have to compensate for your internal body heat!"

"I'm a firebender! I'm supposed to be warm! You just dropped a polar-dog's breakfast on my stomach!" He sat up halfway, his face inches from yours, his eyes flashing with a mix of indignation and amusement. "Is this revenge? Is this because I didn't go to Katara? Because if it is, I'll take the scar over the frostbite!"

"It’s not revenge! It’s... it’s a specialized cryo-therapy technique!" you lied, splashing more water on him to cover your tracks.

"It’s a 'I'm-mad-at-Zuko' technique!" he yelled back, though he was starting to chuckle. "You’re scowling so hard your face might actually freeze that way. You look like a grumpy pentapus."

"I know you’re not talking!" You splashed a bit of water at his face, and he dodged it with a laugh that turned into a cough. The bickering continued for several minutes, a frantic back-and-forth of insults and medical excuses that filled the room. It was a release of the terror that had been coiled in your gut since he walked through the door.

Eventually, the laughter died down as the healing water finally began to do its work. The swelling subsided, the angry purple fading to a dull pink. Zuko’s breathing leveled out, his muscles finally relaxing into the soft furs of your bedding. He looked at you then, the humor fading from his golden eyes, replaced by unadulterated love.

"You were really worried," he said softly. It wasn't a question. He reached out, his hand—warm and smelling of smoke and sandalwood—cupping your jaw. His thumb traced the line of your lower lip, a gesture so intimate it made your breath hitch.

"Of course I was," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. You leaned into his touch, the heat of his palm seeping into your skin. "Don't do that again. Please."

"I won't," he promised. He looked at you with such intense clarity that you felt completely exposed, as if he could see every secret thought you’d had while eyeing his shirtless form. "I’m sorry. For the worry. And for being a stubborn idiot."

He smiled then, a genuine, lopsided grin that reached his eyes, making the scar on his face crinkle. "I missed you," he whispered.

Zuko leaned in, his movement slow, giving you every chance to pull away. But you didn't. When his lips finally met yours, it felt like a collision of two opposing seasons. He was fire—searing, constant, and hungry—and you were the cool, stabilizing force he had been chasing. The kiss began softly, a tentative exploration of salt and sweetness, but it deepened quickly as two years of unspoken tension finally snapped.

His hand slid from your jaw to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. You could feel the thrum of his heart against your chest, a steady, powerful beat. He tasted like the tea you’d brewed and something uniquely him. 

His tongue teased against yours, a flick of heat that sent shivers racing down your spine. You groaned low in your throat, your hands finding purchase on his bare shoulders, your nails digging slightly into the firm muscle. He smelled of the dry heat of the Caldera and the deep, rich scent of embers. Every time you thought the kiss was reaching its end, he would shift his head, finding a new angle, pulling another gasp of air from your lungs.

When he finally pulled back, just an inch, both of you were flushed and panting. Zuko’s hair was a mess, sticking up in several directions, and his eyes were dark with a liquid, golden heat. He looked at you and let out a breathless, triumphant huff of a laugh.

"Well," he croaked, his grin turning mischievous. "I suppose that’s one way to keep my heart rate up."

You laughed, a shaky, wet sound, and began to reach for the water basin again to finish the last bit of healing on his hip. But Zuko caught your wrist, his eyes sparkling.

"You know," he said, his voice dropping into a teasing, regal baritone. "If you wanted to spend the whole night staring at my body, you could have just asked. You didn't have to freeze my internal organs as a distraction. I saw you oogling me earlier. It’s okay. I am the Fire Lord, after all. I’m told I’m quite the sight."

Your jaw dropped. "I was not... I was performing a medical examination!"

"A very thorough one," he teased, awkwardly winking at you. "You were practically counting my ribs. And your heart was beating so loud I thought there was a drum troupe in the hallway."

"Oh, shut up!" you yelled, your face burning. Before he could say another word, you summoned a fist-sized ball of water and slammed it directly onto the center of his chest, flash-freezing it into a solid block of ice that stuck to his skin.

"HEY!" Zuko shrieked as the cold hit him. "NOT AGAIN!"

You stood up, crossing your arms with a smug smile as he struggled to sit up with a five-pound weight of ice stuck to his pecs. "Healing session is over, Your Majesty. Happy melting."

he doesn't answer with words at first, only a guttural sound in his throat that isn't quite a snarl and isn't quite a plea. his face is a mask of tension, that familiar scar—rough and textured like dried parchment—twisting as he grits his teeth. his eyes are amber fire, narrowed and tracking the way your lips curl in defiance. he’s beautiful even when he’s being a stubborn, spoiled brat, his long dark hair falling out of its topknot in messy, silken strands that brush against your collarbone.

you wrap your legs tighter around his waist, pulling him in even as you glare. your heels dig into the small of his back, feeling the ripple of lean muscle beneath his silk robes. "don't you dare shut me out now. look at me. you know i was right about the trade routes. you know it, and you're just too proud to admit your wife has a better head for diplomacy than your entire council of ancient, dusty men."

"it's about... protocol," he pants, the word breaking in the middle as you shift your hips, catching him just right. he mouths the words against the curve of your jaw, his breath smelling of cinnamon and smoke. "you can't just... ungh... you can't just speak over the firelord in front of a foreign delegation. it makes us look fractured. it makes me look weak."

you let out a harsh, mocking laugh, the sound echoing off the high ceilings where the shadows of flickering candles dance like spirits. reach up, you fist your hands into his hair, tugging downward with a sharp, uncompromising jerk. his head snaps back, exposing the vulnerable line of his throat, and a broken, high-pitched moan spills from his lips—a sound so fragile it almost makes you want to soften. but you don't. you squeeze him, your walls clenching around his thick, veiny length, feeling the way he pulses inside you, a frantic heartbeat in a place that shouldn't have one.

"weak? you think i make you look weak?" you tease, your voice dropping to a low murmur.. "you’re the one currently trembling because i pulled your hair, zuko. you’re the one who can’t even finish a sentence because you’re so desperate to stay inside me. is this what a powerful firelord looks like? panting like a stray in the dirt because his wife talked back to him?"

he nips at your neck, a sharp, stinging bite that will definitely leave a mark—a dark purple bruise for the maids to whisper about tomorrow. his teeth are blunt and hot, scraping over your skin until you shiver. "shut up," he hisses, his voice cracking. "just... shut your mouth."

"make me," you challenge, and the air between you literally ignites.

zuko inhales sharply, and you see the orange glow behind his teeth, the heat radiating off him in a sudden, violent wave that makes the sweat on your skin evaporate instantly. he doesn't let go of you; instead, he shifts his grip, his large hands hooking under your thighs to hold you steady as he lunges away from the wall,, carrying your weight with a desperate, clumsy grace. he stumbles into a low table, sending a ceramic basin of water crashing to the floor—the scent of wet stone and copper rising up to join the scent of smokel—before he slams you down onto the sprawling silk mattress of his bed.

the impact jars you, but he’s already hovering over you, his knees pinning your arms down, his chest heaving. this position allows him to sink deeper, bottoming out against your cervix with a blunt force that draws a loud, unbidden moan from your throat.  you try to keep scolding him, try to find the words to tell him he’s a fool, but the way he’s filling you makes your brain feel like it’s melting into honey.

"you... you're still... a stubborn... idiot," you choke out, even as your back arches off the sheets.

he leans down, his hand sliding from your shoulder to your neck, his thumb pressing against your windpipe just enough to make you gasp. his other hand finds your tit, squeezing the soft tissue with a proprietary heat that feels like it’s branding you. he kisses you then—not a sweet kiss, but a frantic, unforgiving hunger, tasting of fury. his cock is thick, the head of it rubbing against your sensitive walls with every frantic, shallow thrust, the texture smooth but the pressure immense.

outside the heavy oak doors, the muffled sound of the palace at night continues—the distant clank of a guard’s spear, the soft chirping of turtleducks in the gardens—but inside the circle of his arms, the world is reduced to the friction of your intoxicating skin.

"my lord?" a voice calls out from the hallway, shrill and intrusive. it’s high sage ukano, his tone brimming with that self-importance zuko usually hates. 

"my lord, i apologize for the late hour, but we have received an urgent scroll from the earth kingdom regarding the borders. we must discuss the response before the morning bells."

zuko freezes, his body still buried deep inside yours, his heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird. he breaks the kiss, looking down at you with wide, dark eyes. you start to open your mouth, a smirk forming—ready to call out, ready to ruin his dignity—but his hand is there in an instant, slapping over your lips. his palm is dry and smells of old scrolls and fire, muffling your indignant yelp.

he doesn't pull out. instead, he stays perfectly still, his cock twitching inside you, the sensation so intense it makes your toes curl into the silk. he looks toward the door, his expression shifting from frantic lover to arrogant monarch in a heartbeat, though the flush on his cheeks betrays him.

"not now, ukano," zuko calls out, his voice surprisingly steady, though there’s a smug, sharp edge to it that makes your blood simmer. he looks back down at you, a slow, predatory grin spreading across his face as he begins to move again, slow and agonizingly deep, watching your eyes blow out as you struggle against his hand.

 "the firelord is currently... occupied with matters of state. leave the scroll with the guard. i will deal with you in the morning."

he doesn't look away from you as the advisor’s footsteps fade. he just keeps moving, his eyes burning with a gold that’s finally, finally steady. 

"don't you have something else to say?" he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "i'm listening."

whoever that 1st zuko anon was... look what you started.