Zuko's Guide to Maintaining Your Fire Lady

In general, Zuko adored his wife.

Katara was everything a subject could want in a ruler ("Our soldiers still need jobs. How can we modify our Navy?"), a child could want in a mother ("Our son is clearly a genius. Koza, tell your father you are a genius!"), a general could want in a warrior ("I was feeling tired, so I just sparred four of the guards, had a bit of a break."), and a husband could want in a wife ("What do you think, Zuko, leather or silk?").

Katara's one weakness (and it was such a minor thing) was that every once in a while she couldn't help but lose her fucking mind.

"Why is my daughter dressed in black on the hottest day of the season?" Zuko struggled to keep his face blank as the pair of nannies glanced at each other, at the two-year-old in her red dress with black flowers happily shoving her hands into her oatmeal, and then down at their shoes. Koza, who was seven and was starting to understand the particular insanity of women, snorted quietly into his morning tea. It was the kind of thing that would normally earn him a gentle rebuke, but this morning, Katara was too busy pressing the back of her hand to the baby's cheeks and neck to notice.

"That wasn't rhetorical. Do you want the princess to die of heatstroke?" The women exchanged glances again, but this time it was Zuko they peeked at underneath their lashes. Zuko sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Now was not the time to point out that he had strenuously objected to the family "vacation" in Ember Island that included Aang, Toph, Sokka, Suki, and their considerable hoard of brats. And it was absolutely not the time to remind Katara that entertaining large numbers of guests for long periods of time tended to turn her into a raging control-freak. Now was more the time to be very, very quiet.

Katara slapped her hand down on the table. "Are you traitors or just negligent?" she snarled.

Zuko stood sharply and clapped his hands together. "Okay!" he said as brightly as he could manage. "Aza, Aga, please attend to the princess' clothing. Koza, go and find your cousins. Katara, can I speak with you…?" He didn't wait for her answer. Instead, he marched past her towards the door, snagging her by the wrist as he went.

A weaker man with inferior husbanding skills would simply surrender to his wife's temporary bout of insanity and wait for it to pass. Zuko spared a moment to pity the poor fools of the world who let their women walk around being lunatics without a clue as to how to fix it.

Katara was grumbling at him as he nearly dragged her from the dining room, down the corridor to their bedroom. Aang and Toph rounded the corner just as they reached their door. Aang lifted a hand to wave, but Zuko gave him a curt head shake and shoved Katara bodily through the door. The last thing he saw before the door snapped shut behind them was Aang's confused frown and Toph's smirk.

"Zuko, what the hell—"

Zuko sighed. He was such a good husband.

He whirled, grabbed his wife, and pushed her against the door, pressing the full weight of his body against hers. He didn't kiss her, not yet. Instead he lowered his face, slid past her mouth with his cheek against hers, and breathed in her ear.

"Hush," he whispered, his hands going to the tie on her wrap dress. Katara's breath hitched. He smirked and kissed her. He moved his lips bruisingly against hers, pushed his tongue into her mouth, nipped sharply at her bottom lip. Her hands slid up his chest to wrap around his neck, but Zuko took both wrists and pinned them over her head. She made a soft, irritated sound in the back of her throat and pulled against his grip. Zuko smiled against her mouth and held her tight with one hand while he dragged the other down her arm, up her neck to take hold of her chin. He pulled away, just far enough that he could feel her panting breath fanning out over his face. He kissed her mouth softly and pulled away once, twice— then pushed her head the side to catch her earlobe between his teeth.

"Behave, Katara."

The Fire Lady's fits of obsessiveness were was normally caused by an incorrect assumption that she was the only one around capable of giving orders. Zuko, as a loving and attentive husband, was very good at correcting her.

He could feel her pulse kick up against his fingers on her neck and she bit down on her bottom lip. Zuko let go of her and pulled away, both of his hands on either side of her shoulders, caging her in. "Take off your clothes," he said. Katara let out a shaking breath, folded her own hands behind her back, and gave him a look that was completely unconvincing.

"We don't have time—"

Zuko captured her lips again, this time running his fingers lightly against the neckline of her dress, down and up and down again. He cupped her breast and ran his thumb gently over her nipple, too gently. He reached down to slide a hand up her thigh, but stopped at the hemline of her dress. Katara moaned and grabbed his wrist, trying to nudge his hand higher. Zuko grinned again and broke away from her lips, trailing kisses along the underside of her jawline. "I'm not going to tell you again," he said and bit down on her neck.

Katara tilted her head to give him more room and let out a sound somewhere between a whimper and a growl. Her hands went to the tie at her waist. She pulled the knot loose and shrugged the dress from her shoulders, then pushed off the wrapping around her chest and hips. Zuko trailed his fingers up her inner thigh and pressed the flat of his hand against her sex. Katara moaned, hips grinding against his hand, and Zuko ducked his head to flick his tongue over the tip of her nipple.

"Good girl."

He snatched her into his arms, lifting her up so that her legs wrapped around his waist, and attached his mouth to her breast as he carried her to the bed. He lay her down gently and started to move lower, fingers pinching her nipples, nails dragging down her sides, tongue dipping into her belly button, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her hip bones. He looked up, took in the line of her jaw as she threw her head back, the way she ran her fingers up her stomach, between her breasts and over her neck, the way her eyes slid shut as she moaned. His fingers tightened painfully around her thigh.

"No," he said. "Look at me." She sucked in a breath and let it out shakily, but her eyes fluttered open to lock on his as he slid her leg up over his shoulder and pressed his mouth between her legs.

There was no taste like her pleasure on his tongue, made sweeter by the way she whimpered and writhed, but did not look away without his permission. Zuko chuckled and released her gaze, shrugging out of his own robe and pushing his pants over his hips. He stroked his hand over his erection softly, fondling himself as his tongue dipped shallowly into her entrance. Her hands slipped into his hair and her back arched. Zuko reached up to capture her hands, pressing them into the mattress as he pulled away, trailing kisses up her inner thigh. It became a game, sucking gently at nub of flesh that drove her wild, pulling away to run his lips against her thighs when she came close. She struggled against his hold on her wrists, her cries taking on a deliciously desperate note. Zuko grinned again and bit down on the spot where her leg met her hip.

"Zuko," she whined breathily. Zuko pressed his nails into the skin on her arms.

"Beg," he murmured against her hip. Katara pulled against his grip again.

"Please," she panted immediately, and Zuko felt his cock twitch. "Please. I want to come. Please make me come."

Zuko released her hands and slid two fingers inside of her, pumping furiously. He moaned and lapped long, languid licks to her clit, using his other arm to hold her still.

Her entire body went rigid and she bucked as she came, her fingers knotted tightly in his hair.

Zuko climbed back up her body and attached his lips to hers. She responded languidly, draping her arms over his shoulders and her legs over his hips. She was always sweet and pliable right after she climaxed. Zuko pulled away swiftly and rolled her onto her side, slipping an arm underneath to pull her back flush against his chest. He ran his other hand down the length of her arm, threaded his fingers through hers, and slid inside, muffling his groan in her hair. Katara tilted her head back and attached her lips to his, panting in time with his thrusts.

"Fuck," he mumbled against her lips. "So beautiful." He reached around to roll her nipple in his fingers. "So wet." He held onto her shoulders, ramming quickly, listening to her moan. He wrapped her hair around his fist and pulled sharply, forcing another whimper from her lips. "Tell me again," he growled against her ear. "Tell me what you want."

Katara gasped and raked her nails over his hip. "I want you to fuck me," she breathed. "I want— I want— oh!" Zuko wrapped his arms around her, one hand slithering down her body to rub two fingers against her clit.

"Give me another one," he groaned against her shoulder, his own breath ragged. "One more, baby, one more, come for me, Katara—"

She came with a shudder and a yelp, her walls clenching around him, and Zuko followed with a low groan.

They both collapsed onto the bed, gasping and slick with sweat. Zuko slid out of her and wriggled down to lay with his head pillowed on he stomach. For a few minutes, they lay without talking, bringing their breathing back under control, while Katara played lazily with Zuko's hair. He closed his eyes and reveled in the scent of spearmint and sex.

"Zuko?" Katara said eventually.

"Yeah?"

"Koana can probably just wear the red and black dress."

Zuko smiled, but did not open his eyes. "Yeah."

She slid her hands through his hair, then lower, to his shoulders as she pushed him onto his back.

"I love you," she murmured against his lips and then continued lower, kissing her way down his chest.

Zuko lay back, struggling to keep his breathing even, and wondered if he should consider writing a book.

A/N: Y'all, the internet is rad. Just... just... omg. I need a drink and a nap. EPT updates tonight!