Archive of Our Own ^beta

"I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush
I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch
Everybody wants you
Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you"

~ Gold Rush, Taylor Swift

Across the glittering ballroom, over the high-pitched clanking of silverware and the rush of blood in her own ears from too much champagne, the crystalline laughter of a noblewoman pierced Katara’s ears. It was a familiar sound. A high society woman laughing at something Zuko said that Katara knew wasn’t that funny.

It wasn’t that Zuko wasn’t funny. Zuko was funny. Hilarious, really, but only in private. Only when you really got to know him. Otherwise, he was rather reserved. Those who didn’t know him thought him staunch, even cold. The Fire Nation rumor mill turned out that the Fire Lord didn’t have a sense of humor. That’s how Katara knew whatever Zuko had said wasn’t that funny. 

He saved all his best jokes for her, anyway.

No, this woman didn't find Zuko to be fun at all. This beautifully elegant woman, who had her hand daintily resting on Zuko’s bicep, was laughing at what Zuko said because she wanted him.  Bile rose in Katara’s throat, the space at the hook of her jaw turning sour. It wasn’t the woman’s fault, not really anyway. Across the world, high society women swooned in Zuko’s presence. Diplomats pushed even Fire Sages out of the way to introduce their daughter to the Fire Lord. 

Even if Katara knew she owned his heart and he hers, it did not matter to those of importance in the world. Without a formal engagement, few looked upon Katara as a genuine commitment for Zuko. She’d heard from more than one governor in the Fire Nation that she was just someone to warm his bed until the proper, acceptable woman was chosen for him to court. 

While the comments hurt, Katara usually shrugged it off. Zuko was private with his affections. He never awarded her special attention while she worked. He never referred to her as anything other than Master Katara in public. People didn't know how much he loved to call her darling or sweetheart in between soft kisses in his office. Or how he had a habit of calling her baby when she was beneath him. She loved Zuko. Zuko loved her. Katara didn’t care what anyone thought of her or her relationship with Zuko. Usually. 

As it was, with more than her own share of alcohol thrumming through her bloodstream and Zuko warmly welcoming this woman’s conversation, Katara gnashed her teeth bitterly. In private, cuddled up by the turtleduck pond, or in Zuko’s room, with his legs entangled in hers, it was easy to ignore the comments. When she had to watch the advancements of others, ignorance did not find Katara so easily. 

Each time Zuko introduced her to a stranger that night, she hoped he'd call her his girlfriend, but he didn't. He never did. It was childish to care. They had been together nearly four summers now. She knew where she stood in his affections, but just once, Katara wanted him to show her off.  All night, she watched as King Kuei had spun his new bride up to everyone he could. All night, Katara sat on the sidelines, watching as women pushed their luck for a chance with what was hers. 

Katara felt her jealousy bubbling up again. A disgruntled snort erupted from Katara’s nose as the woman squeezed his arm. Oh, Your Majesty! You work out, don’t you? Katara rolled her eyes. As they fell back into their proper place, her eyes caught Zuko’s. He smiled at her with that soft, bashful smile she fell in love with all of those years ago. The sight of it made heat bloom across her face. 

She smiled back at him sheepishly. His smile grew, and Katara took the time to drink him in. Yeah, she really didn’t blame the woman for throwing herself at Zuko. His official robes did nothing to hide the fact that, yeah, he did work out. Katara raked her eyes down to his hands, biting back a whine, thinking about how this morning, they had been wrapped around her throat as he fucked her. Zuko leaned in toward the woman and said something indiscernible. Then, he was approaching her. Her heartbeat sped up.  

She glanced up to look at him through her lashes. His eyes were on her already, warm and full of something that made Katara want to melt. “Master Katara, care to dance?” 

Katara inhaled sharply at the boldness of Zuko’s ask. She was used to practically dragging Zuko onto a dance floor, not the other way around. Quietly, Katara murmured, “It would be my pleasure, Your Majesty.” 

Diplomats and noblemen parted ways for them until they were in the middle of the floor. With his hand tightly wound onto her waist, Zuko began to guide Katara backward and around.

“Everyone is staring,” Katara muttered. Insecurity and insolent glee swirled in her stomach at the thought.

 “I can’t say I blame them. You look beautiful tonight, Katara. I mean, not that you aren’t always beautiful. Because you are, but—“ Zuko rambled. Despite the pit in her stomach, Katara found it utterly endearing. 

She wanted to kiss him, but instead, she said, "So...that woman seems… Friendly.”

Zuko raised an eyebrow. “Are you jealous?” 

Katara let out a puff of air, ignoring his question. “It’s just glaringly obvious that she has a crush on you.” 

“You’re jealous,” Zuko exclaimed with a child-like giddiness. 

“Whatever.” An unabashed laugh broke from Zuko's chest. She scowled. 

“Oh, come on. Don’t pout. I think it’s cute that you’re jealous. Now you know how I feel all the time,” Zuko teased, but Katara wasn’t in the mood for jokes. 

“I’m always jealous,” Katara snapped. Zuko’s eyes widened. “It’s not exactly fun to watch women constantly throw themselves at you like I don’t even exist. It’s really invalidating,” Katara huffed, staring past him at the glares from women she didn’t know.  

“You have nothing to worry about, Katara.” Zuko’s smokey words of reassurance slowed her heart rate to a calmer pace. “You know I love you, right?”

Katara nodded, a small “yes” from her lips.

“You’re the only person that I want to be dancing with right now. You’re the only person I want to bring to bed later, and you’re the only person I ever want to wake up next to.”

“Druk will be so hurt.” Katara’s poor attempt at a joke made Zuko smile. 

“Druk will manage. He likes you better than me anyway. As for Ju," Zuko gestured with his head to the woman he had been talking to, "even if she did have a crush on me, which I highly doubt, it wouldn’t matter anyway. She’s engaged.”

Katara ducked her head, suddenly finding the stitching of her gown much more intriguing than Zuko’s gorgeous face. What was she supposed to say? She hated the feeling clawing at her neck. She had been rash in her judgments, her childhood impulsivity rearing its ugly head. 

“I’m sorry,” Katara mumbled. 

"Don't be sorry. As I said, it's hot seeing you jealous,” Zuko quipped, pulling her waist closer to his in a way that was less than dignified for such a fine event. His voice was sultry, almost bedroom like and Katara was a kiss away from her knees buckling. 

Katara giggled. “I think you said cute, actually.”

“Can’t it be both?” Zuko looked like he wanted to devour her right there on the spot, and Katara half wanted him to. His eyes fell to her lips briefly. Her lips parted, begging to be taken by his. He leaned in slowly, and a small squeak escaped Katara’s lips. He’d never been so gallant in his affections in public before and then—

“—Fire Lord Zuko, pardon my interruption.” 

Katara groaned, pulling back to look at the knave who had so rudely interfered. General Chu, of course. The scourge of all her quiet moments with Zuko. Who was going to tell this man that the war had ended years ago? 

“General Chu,” Zuko greeted calmly, pulling back to a more appropriate distance from Katara but not dropping hold of her hand or waist. 

“Have you met my daughter yet?”

Katara fought the urge to roll her eyes. Zuko glanced at her and then back to General Chu. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”

“May I introduce you?”

Zuko squeezed Katara’s hand twice to tell her he loved her, a private ritual. “Will you be alright?” Zuko asked her.

Katara took a deep breath and nodded. “Of course,” she said, but she wasn’t sure if she was convincing him or herself. Zuko brought Katara’s hand to his lips, a promise of later. 

General Chu grabbed Zuko’s arm jovially. “My daughter has just returned from boarding school, you know.”

“Is that so? Which one?”

Katara watched after Zuko fondly. He was good at his job. At mingling with those he didn’t want to. Katara thought he’d much rather be trading remarks with her, but pleasing war ministers and advisors was a part of his job. Awful work, politics, Katara thought as she reached for more wine and leaned against a table. 

General Chu’s daughter was a lithe young woman who hid her face behind an Earth Kingdom-style fan. She smiled politely and laughed at appropriate times. She was utterly perfect and utterly dull. Katara took a large swig from her glass, knowing she was being petty. General Chu’s daughter was probably intelligent, and lovely, and kind, and—a bitch. Katara stopped defending General Chu's daughter when she and her father took advantage of a distracted Zuko to sneer at Katara. 

Katara’s heart sank.

“They’re just jealous, you know,” A familiar morose voice rang next to Katara’s ear. A sick, twisted vindication ensnared Katara’s mind. Good, she thought. “There will always be men like General Chu who believe their daughter’s better than you.”

“Did this happen when you two were together?” Katara asked. 

Mai shrugged. “Not as much as it happens to you, but yes.”

“How did you deal with it?”

“It’s pretty easy to ignore when you know you’ll be in between his legs later.”

“Ew, Mai, I do not want to think about you and Zuko having sex right now!”

“Fine, then think about the two of you having sex. Everyone in this room would kill to be in your shoes. You’re the only one Zuko wants to be with, so who cares what they think?”

Katara deflated. “I do.” 

Mai scoffed quietly, but as kindly as she was capable of, asked, “why?”

“Because I love Zuko, and he needs their opinions to be in his favor for the well-being of the Fire Nation.”

“I guess.”

“And because I deserve more respect. I ended the war. I saved Zuko. I am a master waterbender, and they reduce me to some foreign, savage whore; just a pair of open legs. Every time they smite me, I'm reminded that he’s the Fire Lord, and I’m seen as some southern peasant that is lucky enough to share his bed.” 

“But you’re not a peasant, Katara. You’re the daughter of a Chief. You’re practically a princess,” Mai replied. 

Katara sighed, swirling her glass absentmindedly. “I’ve already told you it doesn’t work like that in the Southern Water Tribe. We were too small for such formalities.”

Exacerbated, Mai placed her glass on the table and turned to Katara. She spoke with honest zeal. “It doesn’t matter what it’s like in the Southern Water Tribe. Internationally, you are the equivalent of royalty.”

Now it was Katara’s turn to mutter. “I guess.”

“Look, people have their heads up their ass from years of elitism and profiting off a class system and war, but if that war hadn’t happened, you would be royalty. You would have been required to come to stuffy diplomatic shows of power and politely smile and mingle with the royalty of other nations. If you and Zuko had got together then, no one would blink an eye.”

Katara’s lips parted in surprise. She looked across the room at Ju. Despite being on the arm of her fiance, Ju was longingly staring at Zuko. Zuko was indisposed, surrounded by a gaggle of high society women and their fathers. If the war hadn’t happened... 

“Do you think we’d be together then? If the war didn’t happen?”

“I don’t know why that matters. You’re together now,” Mai said with an unconcerned shrug. Katara adored Mai. She valued her council and her perceptive wit, but Mai was awful at sugar-coating things. Sometimes that is what Katara wanted. 

“Because,” Katara started, an agitated bite to her words, “everyone thinks I’m not good enough for him.” Katara glanced down, quieting her voice as she finished, “It’s nice to think that in some universe I am.”

Mai gripped Katara’s shoulder affectionately. “Even if you had been betrothed to each other as children, people would still try to undermine you to get to him.”

“You think so?” Katara met Mai’s eyes. 

“I happen to have personal experience in the matter, so yes.”

Katara winced. She often forgot how serious Mai and Zuko had been once. They were just teenagers, but that didn’t make their love any less real. In the end, royal conventions and political pressures drove Mai away. After months of fights, Mai ended the relationship, leaving Katara to comfort Zuko. Truthfully, Katara’s presence in the tumultuous aftermath of his and Mai’s relationship was what brought Zuko and Katara together. Katara tried not to think about how her friend’s heartbreak brought her her own happiness. 

“Don’t be stupid, Katara. Zuko loves you. Don’t make the same mistake I did. Don’t walk away from him because you’re scared.”

“I wasn’t…” Katara started to defend herself, to claim she had no intentions of running, but that wouldn’t be the truth. She’d spent many nights thinking about how much easier her life (and Zuko’s, for that matter) would be if she hit the ground running and left the Fire Sages to choose him a Fire Lady. But that would be easy, not right. Besides, Katara was a fighter. 

Mai gave Katara a knowing, melancholy smile and squeezed her shoulder once before gliding off to a nearby group. Katara sighed. Before her, Zuko stood regal, elegant, disarmingly handsome, and her heart filled with the haunting ache of disappointment.

A grotesque feeling of inadequacy swallowed her whole. If the war had never happened, and she and Zuko had met as children, she wouldn’t be on his arm. 

How could she be? 

Katara considered the possibility of a life where she and Sokka grew up attending peace accords and international balls or hosted foreign dignitaries for feasts in the Southern Water Tribe. Katara was pretty sure she’d be the same girl. Maybe a little more naive, and perhaps more sheltered, but still headstrong and unwaveringly kind. She knew she and Yue would have been best friends. Maybe even Azula, too.

Would Zuko still be Zuko? Katara bit her lip. Despite the atrocities committed against him, or maybe because of them, Zuko grew to a brave, witty, trustworthy, and loyal man. If things hadn’t happened the way they did, would he still be the same man? 

If the war hadn’t happened, his cousin would still be alive, and he wouldn’t have grown up the crown prince. Just a regular prince, third in line for the throne. Would he still have been betrothed to Mai? Maybe he would have been afforded more autonomy in his choices. If he had, would he have been like many of the men in his family; Dishonest, unfaithful, ruthless, burying himself in concubines instead of his work?

Katara shook her head, unable to think about Zuko like that. He wouldn’t. He’s good. So maybe they would have been friends, or at least friendly. A polite nod here, a promised dance there, but nothing more. Could she have stolen his heart even then? 

As Katara stared at the flurries of red and green pushing toward Zuko for their chance to steal his attention, her chest tightened.

Why would he choose me? 

Katara knew she was beautiful, but she never saw herself as breathtaking. She had been pursued by many who labeled her as “exotic” because they didn't know Water Tribe women. When she compared herself to other Water Tribe women, she thought she was average. That never bothered her. She knew she had more to offer than just her looks. Now, though, she wondered if Zuko would’ve even spared her a passing glance had he grown up around women of all four nations. 

Probably not, Katara concluded as she spotted the countless beautiful women in the room. Her relationship with Zuko bloomed out of mutual admiration and circumstance, not surface-level attraction and flirting. Zuko fell for her heart and her mind, with her looks being a welcomed perk. As a prince as handsome as Zuko was, and is, looks would’ve come first.

Zuko was dangerously handsome, scar and all. Katara knew he could’ve been a heartbreaker had he had a little bit more confidence. Zuko grew into his looks and the stature of Fire Lord more and more each day. Katara had to grip his arm much tighter now as they strolled the length of the Fire Palace to keep the stares of noblewomen at bay.

On top of all of that, Zuko was insatiable. He spent half of his time with Katara trying to get her out of her wrappings. Not that Katara minded, of course. Rumors of his sexual appetite had spread far beyond the confines of the palace, adding jealous fuel to those who wanted Katara to leave the Fire Nation and never return. 

If Zuko had grown up with cocky, royal entitlement, his devastating looks, and women throwing themselves at him daily… Why would he waste his time getting off with her? 

Katara was being stupid, and what was worse was that she knew it, too. The war did happen. She shouldn’t be wasting her time in sad hypotheticals. Katara tried not to dwell, but her head was dizzy from too much alcohol. Tears pricked her eyes, taunting her lids to close so they could spill down her cheeks.

Spirits, Katara, get it together. What are you crying for? Stop acting like a baby. You’re in public.

Chastising herself made the impedance of a breakdown worse. Katara closed her eyes, bending her tears away. She couldn’t do this. She was childish and jealous and feeling sorry for herself. She wanted to relish those feelings. Alone. In a bath, preferably. Maybe another glass of wine to keep her company. Katara wanted to allow the hurt to fester until it consumed her. And then, she would bury the feeling discretely away. No use in worrying Zuko, or anyone for that matter, with such nonsensical feelings.

Katara took a moment to compose herself before displaying the most radiantly diplomatic computer she could muster as she approached the near-mob surrounding Zuko with grace and poise. She cleared her throat. 
Hisses of disapproval escaped the myriad chittering women by her side. Katara locked eyes with Zuko, silently pleading with her brain to ignore the stares. 

“Fire Lord Zuko, do you have a moment?” 

Katara’s voice rang clear and steady. She did her best to not alert Zuko that anything was wrong. Zuko nodded, politely excusing himself from the group. The women huddled around each other, sharing whispers and glances at Katara and Zuko. Despite her sadness, Katara felt smug knowing Zuko left all of them for her. 

“Everything okay?” Zuko asked, immediately sensing Katara’s mood.

“Of course,” Katara insisted. Zuko gave her a suspicious look. “Really. I just came to let you know that I’m going to head to bed.”

“Are you okay?”

“Mhmm,” Katara managed out, suddenly feeling weepier than before. “I’ve just had a bit too much to drink. I’m feeling a bit tired, is all.”

“I’ll come with you,” Zuko offered.

“No, no! You’re the guest of honor. You can’t just leave. Stay! Drink! Mingle! I don’t want to ruin a perfectly splendid evening hat because I went in too hard on the complimentary drinks.”

Zuko let out a laugh. “You can never resist, can you?” Katara shrugged with a forceful smile. “Are you sure you will be alright?” 

“Positive,” Katara lied.

“I’ll be up soon,” Zuko promised. 

He leaned in, so close that Katara could smell the wine on his breath, too. She hoped that maybe he’d kiss her and put everyone who questioned his affections into place, but she should have known better. His lips grazed her cheek so briefly that she could have imagined it. Zuko’s smile was loving when he pulled back, and Katara mirrored him before she turned sharply on her heel and bolted out of there.
 
Once safely outside of the ballroom, Katara allowed herself to actually cry. It felt good. She couldn’t remember the last time she had actually let herself feel this much sadness. Her life in the Fire Nation was fulfilling but busy. So much had been pent up over the last few months. It felt euphoric letting it all out. 

Stupidly—drunkenly—she hoped Zuko would follow her. Sober, clearheaded Katara would know that she didn’t want to be the girl who caused a scene to get a boy to prove that he loved her. But sometimes, Katara thought, I am allowed to want such futile delights. 

Once safely inside her chambers, Katara let out a wrecked sob of self-pity, allowing the suffocating feelings to flow out of her. After a minute or two of full-throttled cries, Katara’s lamenting subdued into a manageable whimper. She pulled softly at the tie holding her robes snugly to her body until it opened and revealed her Earth Kingdom dudou and lower wrappings. 

On shaking legs, Katara moved to the small tray of decanters of various alcohols and poured herself another glass that she’d surely regret in the morning. After a small sip, she moved to the bathroom to draw herself a bath. She hummed to herself as her fingers dipped into the warm water that filled the tub. Anticipation bubbled to her toes at the thought of being submerged in her element with her brain off. 

Katara’s ears perked at the soft thud of her chamber doors closing. Pulling her outer robe tightly around her waist, she made her way to the main room. Drawing a defensive stance, Katara called water from the tub to her fingertips.

“Katara?” A soft, raspy voice called out into the muted glow of a nearly burnt-out candle. 

“Zuko?” Katara questioned, dropping the water immediately. He stood before her, outer robe shed, tossed haphazardly over a chair. Katara fought the urge to drool. “What are you doing here?” 

Zuko smiled, approaching her slowly as he spoke. “I know you said to stay and enjoy the party, but it wasn’t the same without you. I missed you—what’s wrong?”

Zuko was close enough now to see the redness that rimmed her iris’ and the puffiness that filled her cheeks. He reached for her, but she pulled away. Defensively, “nothing.”

“Sweetheart…” Zuko cooed. Katara turned her face to look away from him. He coaxed her to look at him softly with his hand. “What is it?”

“It’s stupid,” Katara sighed. He had covered his wrist as he ran calming circles on her cheek with his thumb. She nuzzled her cheek into his palm softly. 

“Is this about the women I was speaking with when you left?”

“No. I mean kind of. Not really, though. But like I said, it’s stupid.” 

“I’m sure it’s not,” he encouraged. 

“It is,” Katara huffed, stepping back and turning away from him, unable to face him as she divulged her delicious insecurities. “Do you ever think about how if the war hadn’t happened, we wouldn’t be together?”

Zuko paused for a moment, searching Katara’s face for something. “What are you talking about?”

“Think about it!” Katara cried. “We met because of the war. We became friends because of it. We grew to care for each other because of it. If it hadn’t happened… there is no way we’d be together.”

“But the war did happen.”

“I know,” Katara bellowed. “But what if it hadn’t?”

“I don’t know. All I know is it did, and I know this is fucked up, but I’m glad it did. It brought me you, Katara. And I think,” Zuko paused, reaching for Katara’s hands which she tentatively gave him, “I think this is what was supposed to happen.”

Katara dropped his hands. “Ugh. That is exactly my point!”

“I’m confused.”

“It’s supposed to be comforting that the spirits, or fate, or whatever has a master plan for us. It’s supposed to make people feel better. But it’s suffocating. It makes me feel like we didn’t even have a choice in this!”

Zuko’s face fell. “So you’re saying if the war hadn’t happened, you wouldn’t have chosen me?” 

“No, I’m saying the opposite. I’m saying you wouldn’t have chosen me.”

“Katara, what on earth are you talking about? Of course, I would have.”

Katara curled into herself. “How do you know?” 

“How do you know I wouldn’t have?” 

“Because,” Katara started bitterly, tears streaming freely again down her cheeks, salting her tongue. “If the war hadn’t happened, you would be a prince of the Fire Nation, with beautiful women at your disposal. You would be able to have any woman you wanted. Why would you want the Water Tribe girl you had to make pleasantries with once a year at diplomatic events? If I had come onto you, you would’ve seen it as a joke. Even then, I’d be seen as some foreign whore sent to corrupt the nation’s golden boy.”

“Katara!” Zuko’s voice boomed, nearly shaking the artwork on the walls. Katara flinched, her cheek blotchy and wet against her shoulder. Zuko grabbed her shoulders and shook her gently. “Why would you even say something like that about yourself? Who has made you feel that any version of you isn’t good enough?”

Katara was silent, looking away from him. Quietly, and so dejectedly that Katara’s heart shattered, Zuko whispered, “Darling… Am I putting these ideas in your head?”

“No!” Katara looked at him now. She stepped closer to him, placing her hands on his chest. “No, Zuko, it wasn’t you. It wasn’t anyone in particular. Just my own dumb brain, and continuously being cast aside by people who don’t know us.”

Zuko softly stroked her hair. “I cannot believe you think you’re the unworthy one in this relationship. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night absolutely terrified that I’ve somehow dreamt this. I have to clutch you to me so hard because I’m so afraid you’ll slip away from me.” 

“Zuko…” Katara breathed out. Zuko rested his forehead on hers.

“Katara, there is not a world where the two of us exist that I am not totally head over heels for you.” Katara’s breath hitched at Zuko’s words, and then, his lips were pressing the softest, most reassuring kiss to hers. “I love you.”

Katara choked back a relieved sob. “I love you, too. So much. Too much. I’m sorry.”

 “I’m sorry that I’ve let you feel like you’re not enough. You’re more than enough. You’re everything to me.”

“You didn’t. I just got in my head tonight,” Katara reassured Zuko, who was rubbing soothing circles onto her back, dipping low to graze the swell of her butt. Feeling better and bolder than before, Katara pressed into him and murmured, “It was just hard not to feel a little jealous tonight. You looked so good. Everyone was staring.”

Zuko snorted. “Do you have any idea how many men were staring at you tonight, Katara? You're breathtaking. It took at my strength not to take you right there on the dance floor so that everyone knew who you belong to.”

Katara bit back a moan. Breathlessly, “I wish you had.”

A fire lit in Zuko’s eyes as he searched for any sign of hesitation. He was met only with a desperate, pleading look. Katara’s eyes darkened as Zuko pulled her impossibly close to him. He captured her lips with his. Katara sighed into his mouth, this kiss hungrier and filthier than the last they had shared. With his hand against her clavicle, Zuko gently pushed Katara until her back collided harshly with the wall behind her. She moaned loudly, feeling a slickness conjure between her thighs. 

Zuko edged her legs apart with his knee until it made contact with her core. Another strangled moan escaped her lip. Oh Tui, Oh Spirits. She rolled her hips against his thigh greedily as she licked into his mouth. Firmly, he held her hips still, tsking at her. She tried to pull him closer to her. She wanted to be welded to him, to become one with him. She needed more. She nibbled on his lower lip the way she knew he liked, and he keened. 

“Spirits, Katara,” Zuko groaned into her ear, taking the lobe between his teeth. His hands released her hips, letting her continue to grind down on his thigh. He was all tongue and lips as he trailed down her face to the hook of her jaw and then her collar bone. Katara was a wreck, panting and heaving like a wild animal as she clawed at his back. “I’ve wanted to sink my teeth into you all evening.”

A strangled “hnng” was all Katara could manage as Zuko pulled back and ripped her robe off of her, leaving her in practically nothing. Katara silently thanked the earth kingdom for being far more liberal with their undergarments. Katara wanted to be bare before Zuko with his lips on her until she couldn’t think straight anymore. 

Zuko struggled with the ties of her dudou, unused to the complexity of the Earth Kingdom garment.

“Fuck it,” he whispered. With precision, Zuko singed the ties keeping her breasts concealed.

“Zuko,'' Katara squealed. “That was a gift from Kuei’s wife.”

Zuko's focus was on her breasts. His hands kneaded her chest as he gritted out, “She knew what was going to happen when she gave you something that made you look that delectable.”

Katara blushed furiously, red blooming down her neck and chest. Any witty comeback she might have prepared dissolved on her tongue when Zuko’s lips clamped onto her nipple.

“Shit,” she gasped, almost attempting to wriggle out of his control from how unbearably good it felt. Zuko splayed a hand onto her lower back and pulled her impossibly close to him, still sucking deeply on her breast. Pleasure bubbled in Katara's stomach as he ravaged her chest like a starving man.

“So perfect,” he mumbled against caramel skin. A sheen of sweat covered katara’s body, and Zuko seemed determined to lap up every inch of her. “Beautiful,” he mumbled again.

“Zu-uko,” Katara stuttered. He detached from her chest to bring his lips to hers again. Zuko’s hands squeezed Katara’s butt appreciatively.

“I love you,” Zuko murmured. 

Katara gasped. Zuko was affectionate during sex, fulfilling her need to be praised and worshipped but he rarely told her he loved her during foreplay. He never needed to. Katara could always tell. The bedroom (and the throne room, and the bathroom, and an alleyway once or twice) was a place for Katara to relinquish control to Zuko and him to her. In the bedroom, they didn't have to be Fire Lord and Ambassador, or even Zuko and Katara; they could just be. 

Katara stared at the sincerity in his eyes and almost welled up again. “I love you,” she repeated before kissing him again. 

She wrapped her arms around Zuko’s neck and used his distracted state to spin him around, so it was him trapped against the wall. Then, Katara dropped to her knees without warning, and Zuko let out a filthy, guttural noise at the sight of her so willing for him. Katara hooked her fingers into his pants and pulled until his cock sprung free for her, red and throbbing. Katara fought the urge to drool at the sight of his erect cock, which was hard for her. Only her. 

Katara languidly stoked him as he kicked out of his shoes and pants, marveling at the way he tossed his head back and let out unabashed moans of pleasure. The pale expanse of his abdomen twitched as he breathed heavily. His cock was leaking under the swiping of her thumb. She kissed the tip experimentally, nearly moaning at the taste of his precum. 

“Katara, please,” he whined. “I’ve been half-hard since you entered the ballroom tonight.” 

Oh, Katara thought, begging is hot. 

Katara giggled. “That long? This shouldn’t take long at all then.”

Katara licked up the underside of his cock slowly, lightly massaging his balls as she went. She was tempted to tease him until he lost control and fucked her mouth as he begged for release. The thought of him howling in pleasure as he yanked at her hair and smeared himself across her face made Katara's eyes flutter shut. 

Instead, Katara took him in all at once, pausing at the base as she gagged. She moaned at the feeling of him halfway down her throat. Popping off of him for a moment, Katara worked a combination of his precum and her spit down him before she took him in her mouth again. She began erratically bobbing her head up and down, sucking hard and swirling her tongue at his tip. She held onto his hips to better guide her movements. She could feel him twitching, and it only spurred her on more. She looked up at him through hooded eyes, and the sight of him slack-jawed caused her eyes to roll back in her head. 

Zuko moaned, grabbing a fistful of her hair. The pain of his vice grip caused her more pleasure than anything else. Katara slowed her movements, hollowing her cheeks to work him hard and slow.

 “Fuck yeah, baby—uhhnn. You look so—shit—you look so good on your knees for me—fuck.” Zuko bucked his hips into Katara’s mouth, and she choked, spitting a little as she tried to catch her breath. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

Fuck yes. Katara pulled off of him with a sly smile. “It’s okay. You can fuck my mouth if you want to.”

She wanted him to.

Katara opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out, letting the tip of Zuko’s cock rest on it, hot and heavy. Zuko’s eyes rolled back. He took all of her hair into a fist and experimentally pressed his cock past her lips. Katara moaned approvingly. “Tell me if it’s too much?”

Katara nodded, sticking her tongue out even farther, begging for him to use her mouth. Zuko thrust again, more aggressively. Once he realized he wasn’t hurting her, he started to slam in and out of her throat. She loved letting him use her like this; she loved him in control. A sort of primal need to please him overtook her when he took control like this, and it was hot. Katara did her best to remain still, but she wanted to follow him each time he pulled back. Katara was drenched. She didn’t need to feel herself to know that she was soaked through her bottom wrappings, her only clothing at the moment. 

Zuko moaned after a sharp intake of his own breath. Katara could tell he was close by the way his hips started to sputter. Tears streamed down her face from how hard he was pressing into her and she didn't even care.

“Shit, Katara, I’m going to cum,” Zuko whined, starting to pull back. 

Katara grabbed his hips, pulling him all the way into her mouth. With a cry, Zuko came in her mouth, spurting his hot cum down her throat. Katara greedily swallowed him down as his thrusts slowed. Zuko slumped against the wall, breathing heavily. Katara wiped her mouth, satisfied with her actions. She slithered up his body, kissing him gently in places, taking extra time on the starburst scar in the center of his abdomen, up his jaw to his lips.

“I bet you’ll remember that tomorrow when General Chu’s daughter can’t stop flirting with you,” Katara said with a wicked smile. Zuko let out a shaky laugh, still working to recover. Katara placed her hand on his cheek below his scar. “Just so you know, I’d choose you,” Katara whispered. “In any universe, Zuko. It would always be you.

Zuko smiled at her through hazy, post-orgasmic, bliss-filled eyes. Lazily, he reached for her until his hand found the back of her neck. He guided her down to his lips for a kiss. She hummed into him. Affection filled her heart when he squeezed her hip twice. 

Katara pulled back and kissed his nose softly. Feeling satisfied with her work, Katara bent down to grab the robe that Zuko had so unceremoniously discarded earlier.

“What are you doing?” Zuko asked in his authoritative voice that always made Katara shiver. 

“Getting dressed?”

Zuko’s eyes darkened. 

“I’m not done with you yet. Not even close.” 

Zuko effortlessly hoisted Katara up by her waist to rest on his hips. She hooked her feet behind him to steady herself. Katara knew he could feel her want on his still semi-hard cock.

“Actually,” Zuko said, tossing her gently onto the bed. His voice depended as he finished, “I haven’t even started.”

Zuko pulled Katara to the edge of the bed by her ankles, placing each on a shoulder. He licked from her ankle to her knee before nibbling on her inner thigh. Katara couldn’t help but lift her hips in anticipation of what was to come. Zuko wrapped his hands around her thighs to lower her down carefully as he came to his knees. Zuko kissed up her thighs again, biting softly as he went.

“Fuck,” Katara moaned as Zuko trailed a finger over her folds through her wrappings. 

“Agni, Katara, you’re fucking soaked,” Zuko praised. He kissed her center once through her wrappings before pulling them down and allowing Katara to kick herself free of them. He trailed his finger slowly to her dripping entrance. “All this from sucking me off?” 

Zuko pushed two fingers in and curled just so. Katara gasped and squirmed. 

“No,” she breathed out.

“No?” Zuko asked, stopping his pumping. That voice, spirits!

“Not just from that,” she squeaked. “You—fuck!—" Zuko started pumping again. "—you looked so good all night. Wanted you to fuck me.” 

“Mm,” Zuko hummed, bringing his lips so close to her folds she could feel his hot breath permeating on her. “So you spent all night making small talk with your colleagues while you were thinking about me fucking you?"

Katara squirmed under his inspection but gave no answer, only a hum. 

"What was that?" Zuko asked, pausing his fingers again.

"Yes," Katara breathed. Zuko chuckled. 

"Did you leave early hoping I'd follow you up here and fuck you senseless?"

"Yes."

"And when you told me you saw me talking to all those women, did you want to get on your knees for me like a little slut, so they knew you are the only one who gets to suck me off?"

Katara's breath hitched. She couldn't answer. She wondered now if he had purposely tried to make her jealous to wind her up, but she figured that was more her style and not his.

"Did you want me to take you from behind in the middle of that ballroom so that everyone knew just how I like to fuck you?" Katara was silent again. Only the sound of her labored breathing came in response to Zuko's filthy question. Zuko nipped her thigh, causing her to yelp. "Did you?"

"Yes! Spirits, yes! Wanted you to fuck me there. Want you to fuck me now!"

"Such a good girl for me.”

Zuko inhaled deeply and shuddered. Katara felt a smug satisfaction overcome her at the notion that just the scent of her turned on for him was leading him into a frenzy. 

“Spirits!” Katara lost all conscious thought when Zuko flattened his tongue onto her folds. 

His fingers started to curl painstakingly slower than the brutal pace his tongue took as it encircled her clit. Stars entered her vision as Zuko’s tongue flicked up and down her clit. She was so wet; she could hear her juices squelching each time Zuko pulled his fingers out and pushed them back in. Her chest heaved as she tried to breathe through the rippling pleasure that started in her core. She was close. So close. 

“Agni, I could drink you in all day, Katara,” Zuko moaned into her folds, the vibration causing Katara’s thighs to tremble against Zuko’s ears. She could feel his scar rubbing against the meatiest part of her thigh as he buried himself deeper into her pussy. As much as she wanted him to stay buried in her thighs forever, she was seconds away from an orgasm tearing through her body. 

Katara grabbed his silky hair and pulled hard, needing to find purchase in something to ground her so her soul didn't leave her body as she came. Zuko moaned as she pulled his hair, and the vibration sent her over the edge. Katara screamed, a full-throated cry of ecstasy ripping from her when Zuko found the right rhythm of fingers and tongue. She bucked against his face as she chased the euphoria, and he let her, moaning as she dragged her clit from his lips to his nose and back again. 

Her cries turned to whimpers as Zuko licked her dry. 

“Gorgeous,” Zuko whispered, pressing kisses from her pelvic bone to her navel. Katara shivered. Zuko could go from erotic and domineering to sweet and gentle in seconds, and Katara thrived under his praises as much as his degradation. 

Katara stared blankly up at the ceiling. Unable to think of anything else as she caressed Zuko’s head softly, Katara muttered, “Fuck me.”

Zuck chuckled into her sternum and then sunk his teeth into her collarbone. “I’m trying to, Baby. Be a good girl for me.”

Katara whined. Zuko pushed off her body after a peck to her lips and started to pull his shirt off. Katara scrambled to all fours, facing away from Zuko, her heart pumping in excitement for him to lose himself with her. In her. To fuck her so hard as he whispered unspeakable things in her ear until she forgot her name. She dropped to her forearms. Her ass was high up, vulnerable for Zuko the way he liked. Katara heard him let out a sigh of appreciation, so she wiggled her hips, letting herself marvel at how she could feel her own cum slipping from her. 

Soft, wet lips made contact with the skin just above Katara’s butt, and she sighed dreamily.

“Mmm,” Zuko appreciated. “As hot as that is, Baby, I wanna see you tonight.” Zuko smacked her ass hard. Katara yelped in a mix of pain and pleasure. She looked to Zuko, who had positioned himself sitting upright against the headboard. His legs were spread, his cock standing like an exclamation against his stomach. He looked good enough to eat. Zuko pat his inner thighs. “C’mere”

Katara scrambled again, shakily crawling over to rest herself in Zuko’s lap, her still-drenched center resting dangerously close to Zuko’s cock. An appreciative moan fell from Zuko as his fingers massaged her hips. Bruises would surely bloom tomorrow from the vice grip Zuko had on her. Katara resolved herself not to heal them so she could walk around branded by him even if she was the only person who knew the marks were there. 

Trailing his fingers up her sides, Zuko looked at Katara through seductive eyes. Katara’s insides squirmed. She started to slowly stroke Zuko again, panting in anticipation. She felt another wave of wetness conjure between her thighs at the thought of riding Zuko with her chest against his as he kissed her stupid. She needed him inside of her. Now. 

“Please,” She whispered.

“Who am I to deny you when you ask so nicely?” Zuko asked, tenderly pulling her face to his so he could press a loving kiss to her jaw. He lifted her up by her waist. 

Katara smiled as her body shuddered, responding to Zuko’s ministrations on her neck. With her hands on Zuko’s shoulders for support, Katara let Zuko line himself up with her deliciously dripping entrance. Strangled moans filled the stifled silence of the night as katara sank to him.

Amber eyes met blue. Thousands of poetic prose were passed in the split second of intimate silence. Overwhelmed and understimulated, Katara experimentally rose to her knees before sinking back down, bottoming out on Zuko.

“Fuck, that’s my girl.”

Katara strangled out a cry, moving faster up and down. Erratically she bounced her ass back and forth on Zuko. Half-conscious, blissed out from the feeling of Zuko hot and hard inside of her. Katara admired the way her skin contrasted against his. His pale, toned biceps flexed under her warm, honeyed grip. Light and dark, day and night, yin and yang, fire and water; complimentary not opposite. They belonged together.

Katara’s nails dug into Zuko’s shoulder as he started to meet her thrusts halfway, hitting her at the perfect angle to make her scream.

“Zuko,” Katara cried. “Baby, harder. Please.” 

Zuko only groaned in response. He adjusted himself so Katara could lay flush against his chest and he could hammer up into her, taking the pressure of her thighs. A euphoric sigh of pleasure slipped from Katara’s lips into Zuko’s shoulder as her eyes fluttered. This must be paradise. 

“Love those noises you make for me, Kat,” Zuko breathed out.

Katara’s attention was on a constellation of freckles on Zuko’s shoulder from too many shirtless mornings practicing his bending. The freckles, a rusty orange color and barely noticeable unless your face was pressed into Zuko’s shoulder, were one of Katara’s favorite parts about Zuko. 

There was a lot she loved about him. His strength and resilience. His fierce loyalty to his friends and his people. His strong moral compass. The way he’d rake his fingers through his top knot until a lock fell into his eye line when engrossed in a policy briefing. How he preferred the tarnished gold of his mother’s tea set to the ones he received in goodwill from other world leaders. How his smile would break across his face when he caught her eye in a crowded room. She loved his laugh, especially when someone said something surprising, and it would crack from his lips before he could regain monarch-like composure.

But those were all public things that could be observed, consumed, and coveted by anyone who knew him. The freckles, though, were private. The freckles were for Katara's eyes and lips only. A reminder of the intimate way she knew him, and he knew her. To see him this close, to be allowed past his wall to see the perfect imperfections that littered his skin and followed him around throughout the day, was Katara’s greatest honor.

Mine, Katara thought possessively as she sunk her teeth into Zuko’s shoulder, relishing in the way he groaned and slammed up into her impossibly harder. 

“Mine,” Katara gasped out after a particularly hard thrust. She hadn't meant to say it, but when Zuko hummed in agreement and gripped even tighter, her conviction doubled. “Say it?”

Zuko pulled Katara back just far enough to flood sincerity into her eyes as he confirmed it. It all felt too soft, too loving for the dominant way Zuko had just been speaking to her moments ago. “I’m yours.”

Katara moaned, hearing the words, sliding her slickness up and down his shaft faster, feeling her walls start to pulsate at his admission. It was hotter than anything he had said all evening.

“Yours, Katara. All yours. Only yours.”

“Yes,” Katara keaned. The more she heard it, the faster she rode him as if bringing them both to a finish would solidify what was already true. 

Zuko brought her nipple between his teeth. “Yours.”

“Yes!”

Then the other nipple, “Yours.”

“Yes!”

Zuko was slamming with fervor now. He was buried so deep in her, pressing hard against the spot inside her that made her want to scream. Katara was close, each admission of his belonging drawing her closer to a white-hot euphoria. 

“I’m yours, Katara.” Zuko lay his palm face out on his stomach at the base of his cock so that each time Katara bottomed out, his fingers could rub against her clit. “Just yours.”

Zuko started to rub her now, unable to keep his lips attached to her body as she moved too quickly, chasing the high that was about to break over her. 

"I'm yours. Cum for me, baby."

“Yes. Yes! YesYesYes. Oh, Zuko—Fuck!” 

Katara hit her peak, screaming. Waves of pleasure coursed over her as she convulsed on top of Zuko. Her hearing cut out, and she saw stars as she gushed. Spirits, she was squirting. The thought alone made her cum even harder as Zuko continued to fuck up into her. He was moaning, she thought. She could feel her walls clenching around him as he yelled, but he sounded far away. Vaguely, Katara was aware that Zuko was coming too, emptying himself into her as her name shook through his teeth and lips. She could feel him stuttering, but she had left her body, the orgasm so strong and sweet that she couldn't even pretend to hear the filthy praises he was whispering into her ear. 

Her rigid body quickly went limp as the final phases of her orgasm coursed through her. Her pussy twitched on Zuko’s cock as she slumped onto his chest and shoulder. Her body was putty under Zuko’s grip. He softly moved her off of him and into his side, her leg hooked over his hips as she wordlessly babbled. Fuck, that was perfect. He’s perfect. 

Katara’s vision started to return. Zuko was looking down at her lovingly. Hazily. 

“There she is,” Zuko murmured, lips against her forehead. 

“Hi” Katara warmly whispered, burying her face into his shoulder. She felt the soft rumble of his chest as he laughed. Warmth spread across her in a mix of affection and embarrassment. "That felt good."

“Fuck.” Katara raised her head to see him. His post-pleasure smile was radiant. “That was so hot, Katara. I… shit, you squirted everywhere. You've never done that before.” 

“Mmmm,” was all Katara could manage in response.

“What do you say we go get cleaned up?” 

“M’comfy,” Katara mumbled.

“You’re also soaking.”

“S’fine.”

"You still have my cum inside you."

"Leave it." Zuko groaned at that, pleasing Katara in a way she didn't expect. "I'll drink my tea in a bit. I'm sleepy."

“Come on, Darling. You can sleep in the tub.” Zuko detangled himself from Katara, but not before pressing a soft, loving kiss to her lips. 

Katara hummed happily in response. She lifted her arms up, knowing Zuko would carry her to the bathroom if she wanted him to. He was good like that. Sex with Zuko was earth-shattering, but the aftercare, especially after a particularly taxing orgasm, was Katara’s absolute favorite part of being intimate with Zuko. Reserved in his relations, assertive in his rulings, dominant in the bedroom, and gentle in his love. 

Butterflies erupted in Katara’s stomach when he paused above her to look down at her spent and naked body. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Zuko lifted Katara into his arms and made his way to the bathroom. He set her down on the edge of the tub, kissing her forehead. “How did I get so lucky?”

“I thought you didn’t believe in luck,” Katara whispered. 

Zuko hummed in agreement as he heated the now-cold bath Katara had drawn earlier with his bending. He stepped in, gently beckoning Katara with him. He submerged their bodies, moaning as they sunk deeper into the hot water. Katara’s stomach clenched at the erotic sound. That was the thing with Zuko. Katara couldn’t get enough. He had an insatiable appetite and her body bent to his every whim like she was made to please him and be pleased by him. 

A soft, breathy gasp glided effortlessly from Katara’s lips when Zuko squeezed her body to his and pressed his lips to the junction of her shoulders and neck.

“Every time you cum for me, ‘Tara, I know I’m lucky. You don’t have to believe in fate, but I do, and I know that the spirits made you for me. They plucked you from the stars of my dreams. How could I possibly love anyone else?”

Katara flushed, her eyes welling with tears. She tilted her head backward to connected his lips to hers. Warmth spread from her lips to her toes as she buried her hand in Zuko’s hair, attempting to bring him closer to her, if even just for a second. The world slowed as their lips molded together. The rose-scented air hung heavy around them as the sound of their lips filled the room. Katara could only describe the feeling as ethereal. 

“I love you.” Katara placed another kiss to Zuko’s lips, pressing firmly as if to prove her point, before she turned forward again, resting her head on Zuko’s shoulder.

“I love you, too. So much. Too much.” 

Katara hummed in acknowledgment. Zuko’s hands trailed lazily over her body, mapping out the expanse of her skin. His fingers traced bruises softly and danced across curves and dips with such experienced care. Occasionally, he’d tweak a nipple between his fingers, just hard enough that Katara would gasp in appreciation but never staying long enough to start something again. Not yet anyway. 

Katara’s mind wandered through the events of the night. She’d been rude. Callous, even, to women who didn’t really deserve it. Not all of them knew that Zuko worshipped at Katara’s shrine. In some ways, the surreptitious nature of their love made it special. It made it theirs. No one could have an honest opinion because no one knew the truth. In others...

“Zuko?” Katara asked after a while of letting his hands find solace in her body.  

“Hmm?” He asked, kneading the sides of her thighs softly.

“Why don’t you ever introduce me as your girlfriend?”

“Oh.” Zuko’s ministrations to her body stopped. “Do–do you want me to introduce you as my girlfriend?”

Katara let out a humorless laugh, sitting up and pulling her knees into her chest. She rested her chin on her knees as she dejectedly replied, “Well I don’t want you to do it because I asked you to.” 

Zuko’s finger lightly trailed up her spine. Her body shuddered at the featherlight touch, and at that moment, she hated how easily her body reacted to him. She didn't need him to prove his love. She knew it, but she still fought the urge to ask if he was ashamed of her. 

“To be honest, I thought you wouldn’t want to be introduced as my girlfriend.”

“What?” Katara nearly shrieked, twisting her body to look at him. He was kidding, right?

“Um…” Zuko started. He was nervous, looking everywhere but at her. “Well… when you were with Aang you used to complain that you were always introduced as the Avatar’s girlfriend and never as just Katara. You once told me that you felt like a footnote in his story, reduced to something that belonged to him. I never wanted you to feel like that with me.”

Katara’s narrowed eyes widened, and a melancholy smile bloomed. “Oh, sweet boy.”

Katara scooted forward. Her movements were clunky and awkward as she worked her knees onto either side of Zuko’s thighs so she could rest on him. Zuko’s fingers tentatively rested on her legs, but he couldn’t look at her. She started to slowly stroke his hair as she spoke. 

“Zuko, I didn’t like being introduced as Aang’s girlfriend because he pigeonholed me into a secondary role. When he introduced me as his girlfriend, it was as an addendum to his title. It wasn’t just what I was. It became all I was as well. You have never once made me feel like I can’t be my own person while being your girlfriend. With you, I’m Master Katara, Southern Water Tribe Ambassador and Junior Health minister, daughter of Chief Hakoda, friend and mentor to the Avatar, and the Fire Lord’s girlfriend.”

Zuko smiled sadly, thumbing her hip. “I just didn’t want you to feel like I owned you or anything.”

“Zuko, Darling, look at me.” He did, and Katara felt her core heat up under his molten gaze. “You’ve never made me feel anything other than loved and admired.”

Zuko snorted. “That can’t be true. Remember that time I called you a peasant and tried to attack you in the North?”

Katara laughed, too. “You know what I mean.”

“I know,” Zuko nuzzled his nose into her jaw, and Katara shuddered again. 

“Besides,” Katara said, running her thumb across a still-developing purple mark she had left on his neck, “I kind of like belonging to you.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

Zuko surged, capturing her lips with his own. Unlike the raw and primal kisses they shared in bed earlier, this kiss was soft and sweet. Katara felt the promise of something far filthier rising under her core, nearly pressing into her again. Slowly, Katara rolled her hip against Zuko, who groaned appreciatively. 

“Good,” Zuko said after pulling her bottom lip gently between his teeth. “I like you belonging to me, too. ” 

At that moment, Katara felt seen and undoubtedly loved. Her heart swelled at his omission of ownership and his earlier one of total belonging. Zuko trailed his lips down her jaw, whispering “mine” as he went.

And Katara had to agree through pleasured moans. “Yes, Zuko. Yours.”