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Union ❤️‍🔥

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50 Shades of Honor: Chapter 21

50 Shades of Honor: A Zutara Smutfic

Rated: M

Pairing: Zutara Length: 1929

AU

Author’s note: In which Zuko is sick of pretending and Katara rips the truth into their reality. Or, they don't fuck in an alley, but DO find an abandoned tea shop instead... Chapter 20 for ref.

Twenty-One: Burning

“Take me,” she said. “Anywhere you want.”

Now his gaze dragged from her eyes to her mouth to the whole of her body, pupils dilating, distracted, before his good eye locked on something in the distance and widened.

“I have an idea,” he said.

“I trust you,” she said, and the words were true, even as her thoughts were marred by the needing heat that needled at her core. Just the thought of him pressing inside of her, his hands holding her thighs far and wide, his body shaking with the urge to just rail her, made her want to just do it here, passersby be damned. But he still had his wits about him.

“Come with me,” he said.

Zuko held out his palm, and there in the rain and the cold and the dark, she took it. 

The only sign that the small, dark shop was abandoned was a sign out front that read, “For sale,” in poorly written red script. It was made of dark wood and had a stone facade that was probably once beautiful but was now, simply, sad. It could have been something wonderful, but it sat here alone and waiting for someone to make something of it. Zuko tried not to think that hard about that and tore at the lock on the door and it knocked to the ground, the lock plunk plunk plunking and rolling into a puddle.

Katara peaked around the corner, but no one seemed to notice – or care – that the lovers were so visibly breaking into a would-be shop. For a moment she felt bad, guilt spiraling down her spine, but then Zuko reached for her hand, his palms warm and soft and stepped into the building.

What, was she not going to follow?

Guilt gave way to need and she held his hand in hers, letting herself be led inside.

Here, a few tables scattered about the place, ratty tablecloths atop them. Empty shelves. Large windows covered in dusty drapes. Somehow, the space smelled spicy, like cardamom and ginger and something similar. Tea shop. Katara watched Zuko as he entered the space, his hand still in hers, long fingers tangled in her smaller ones. He paused, his back to her, and leaned his palms on either side of the table at the center of the room. She took him in: his long, lean body, draped in black; the way his shoulders formed a near-perfect pyramid, wide at the top and narrow near his waist; the curve of his spine as his head dropped forward, his dark hair longer than it had been the last time she saw him. She could see his body moving with the fierceness of his breath. He seemed nervous, or maybe even afraid.

Frozen, and waiting. He was waiting for her.

Katara took one step, and another, and another, her footsteps hushed against the soft floor beneath her feet. In another world, visitors and locals alike would be sipping tea in the space, laughing over steaming cups and blowing away the heat.

Now, here, they would build their own heat instead.

He didn’t move. Just stood in silence, hair draping over his sharp jaw, masking the features she once memorized with her fingertips. She wanted to memorize them, now. To get to know this Zuko.

Who would he be, now?

She paused at his back, and let her hands settle on his back. She could feel his shoulder blades draw down his spine, tightening at her touch. She focused in on the musculature at his back. One hand drew down, nearer his hip. Her other, up toward his shoulder, his neck, his throat. She drew her palms opposite each other, feeling the fabric of his cloak bunch in her fingertips. His body was scorching beneath her fingertips. When she flexed her fingertips against his throat, she felt the tender skin rumble as she ripped a moan from his lips.

Katara snapped.

She pressed her entire body against his back, keeping one hand at his throat as she pulled him back against her, his body arching against hers. Her other drifted down, down, down, past the sash at his waist and where she craved him most. He shuddered as he hardened in her palm, and she wrapped her fingertips more tightly against him. He was just so… solid. Heavy in her hand. Keeping him close, unable to move lest her fingernails dig into the thick column of his throat, she jacked him off in earnest, each moan, each grunt, each pant against her ears spurring her on. She wanted, in this moment, to own him. To force his pleasure upon him. To remind him that he deserved to feel this good, to have her entirely focused on him.

“Katara,” he moaned, his voice desperate, and she sank her teeth into his neck, tightening her grip on him further still. He thrusted into her palm, giving himself over to her, to her touch, to her hot breath against the scarred flesh of his neck, the cold and rain outside a distant memory, each drop absorbed now by the heat they spilled over each other like a heady glaze. 

“I want it all, Zuko,” she whispered in his ear, her lips wet on the skin.

Her words struck him in a flash, and Zuko yanked her hand away, grabbing her by the wrists and spinning her around, shoving her hips against the table.

She stared up at him. He stood between her hips, his stance far from afraid, now.

“Zuko, wha-”

“I want it all, Katara,” he murmured, his teeth skimming her neck. He pushed his hands into her knees, spreading her wide for him until it almost hurt.

“Spirits,” she sighed, leaning back on her elbows. You can have whatever you want.

Somewhere, thunder rolled. Katara felt deep in her body that it was raining harder still, the water speaking to her, calling to her. The only thing that could keep her away from the power that reached out in search of her soul was this man and his palms and his devotion to her body. Zuko’s eyes raked over her, his gold eyes pausing on hers, and his lip curved up in a smirk. Still, he didn’t look cocky; if anything, gratitude graced his lips as he continued to drink her in with his gaze, roaming from her wide, blue eyes to her high, round forehead to her soft cheeks and her mouth, open in a pout as she waited, patiently, for his kiss. Her heart skipped a beat.

When it came, it was like a slap. His lips pressed against hers, hard, his tongue restrained but his power undeniable, the heat of his mouth overwhelming the cool of hers. Her hips jerked, but he held her back, hands against her knees maintaining her seat on the table in front of him. His palms slid up the crux of her hip, squeezing there, the flesh of her hips, bunching her skirts, and made their way up to her waist, thumbs sweeping her breasts and leaving her shuddering as she kissed him, growing more and more needy as he had his way with her wanting mouth.

Her patience pulled thin, she began to tug at her own clothes, stripping layer by layer until only her bindings remained, drenched at her center. “Zuko,” she said. “I need…”

Zuko’s good eye widened at the new skin available to his stare. He swallowed, his throat bobbing. He looked like he wanted to dig his teeth into her flesh and take a bite. He leaned in. “What do you need?” he whispered against her lips, the words shaping against the sensitive skin of her mouth. His tongue lapped at her bottom lip, once, twice, until she sucked it into her mouth. He grunted, his hips jutting forward.

“Do I even need to say it?” she huffed, reaching behind her back to unwind her bindings. The moment was too serious. She needed something light. She was choking on her feelings for him. They rose up in her mouth like something inky and heavy and dangerous. I love him. Spirits, I love him. It repeated and repeated and she nearly finished removing her bindings, needing their fuck to distract from her adoration of the dark haired, lanky, soft-hearted man between her thighs.

He caught the move and grabbed both of her hands in one of his. “Don’t play coy,” he grinned, now.

“I’m too…” She began. Finally, she admitted it. “I don’t care to play coy anymore, Zuko. So hurry up. And fuck me.”

His mouth dropped open, and she took advantage, tossing herself forward and catching his lips in hers. She wanted to bask in this moment: his hot, warm mouth shaping around hers, pushing and pulling, light scrapes of his teeth against her bottom lip. He held steady on her wrists, forcing her back to arch as she sought him. “And do it well,” she whispered.

Zuko began to unwind her chest, her waist, her hips, eyes locked on each new inch of skin like he couldn’t decide what to sink his teeth into first. She felt fleshy and strong and powerful. She felt wild in her need.  Katara reached for him, feeling as if she might burst if they didn’t get on with it, but he shook his head. His eyes hardened. And he tugged her wrists even further back, shoving her onto her forearms.

She locked her thighs around his hips and squeezed. His eyes fluttered closed and he took a deep breath before parting her thighs again.

He dropped to his knees.

His eyes locked on her cunt, hot and waiting.

“Show me,” he said, more to it than to her.

“What?” she whispered.

“Show me,” he said. “How you fucked yourself while we were apart.”

“Zuko,” she whined.

“I know you did,” he said, his voice almost clipped with how close he was to the edge. “I want to see it. I want to know every single thing you did for every single stupid second I let you be away from me. I never want to be apart from you again,” he promised. “I want to know. I want to know for myself how you made yourself feel good while you were away.”

“I don’t know,” she said, her voice quiet, shy.

“Was there someone else?” he asked now, as if it just occurred to him. Gold eyes locked on hers, still gentle in their curiosity.

“No,” she said.

“So you did,” he confirmed. “Touch yourself. I know you, Katara,” he said, and chuckled. “You haven’t spent all this time just sitting there, waiting. Someone has fucked you. And if it wasn’t some other man, I know it must have been you.”

On his last word, he released her palms, allowing her to lift back onto her hands. She shivered as he guided her right hand down her body, her own nails passing over her nipple. She pinched it automatically and he jolted, nodding. “Good,” he said. “Good girl, Katara.” 

She was too needing to hold out anymore. She let him guide her hand between her thighs. “Show me,” he begged, his words coated with his desperation. She gazed at the thick bulge between his thighs where he knelt in front of her. She could give him this.

She would.

She shifted her hips to let her bindings fall entirely to the tea shop floor. 

[justkeepshippingg]

if u ship zutara you can fuk right off i will have none of that 

[justkeepshippingg]

Back at the beginning: a caitvi hatefuck fic

Summary: Vi and Caitlyn find a truce built less around love and romance and more about the fact that, well, they’re both hot, cupcake. Allegedly, anyway. One-shot. Author's note: Took Caitvi to drag me out of a 10 year fanfic hiatus. Can you blame me? WC: 2392 Rating: M

It isn’t that they are friends, now. It’s that they have a mutual understanding. When it rains. When it’s dark. And, eventually, when the sun shines so brightly even the undercity burns. When Vi finds herself crawling through Caitlyn’s room with all of its silly luxe fabrics and lavender-vetiver scented air and pushing through wispy purple curtains and finding Cait, there, her body warm and waiting in green sheets that remind Vi of another time, one with soft grass beneath her toes and the sun in her hair and her parents somewhere nearby with a young, still-soft Powder.

She doesn’t speak when she approaches. Why should she?

This is Cait, and she knows why Vi is here.

Cait keeps her gaze soft and her body unmoving as she allows Vi to crawl into her room, into her bed, into her space, her body being bracketed by Vi’s. The only sign that she’s awake is her chest, betraying her to Vi as it rises and falls more rapidly. Vi’s legs come on either side of Caitlin’s, and Caitlin’s breath stumbles. Vi’s hands rest on either side of Caitlin’s head, palms sinking into silky curtains, and Caitlin swallows, hard. Vi exhales, letting more of her weight press onto Caitlin’s, and their hips meet and Caitlin can’t hold back anymore.

Her bright blue eyes lock on Vi’s gentle gray gaze and, for a moment, they could be lovers, real ones, speaking through sight. Vi’s maybe says, “Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Caitlyn’s maybe says, “Would you stay?” Their lips stay sealed, eyes wide and waiting, brows curving in question.

This is the one time of day that they can be like this, gentle and secure in their safety, no guns and no wraps and no knives to be found. Just two women, watching and breathing and waiting.

Who moves first? It’s hard to say. Maybe it’s the twitch of Vi’s fingers, like she’s dying to touch Caitlin but doesn’t want to be the one to break the tension. Maybe it’s the way Caitlin’s lips fall open, like she’s dying to suck Vi’s bottom lip right into her mouth but doesn’t want to spur the tension on. A second, a moment, and it’s happening.

Gaze no longer hazy. Brows no longer soft. Hands no longer restrained.

Vi lunges forward, capturing Caitlin’s lips in hers, and Caitlin responds in kind, her hands sinking deep into Vi’s hair, thumb rubbing over her shaved scalp, welcoming the tiny pricks of hair in need of a closer cut. A jolt of jealousy pops across Caitlin’s spine – who gets close enough to Vi to cut her hair? – and she bites it back by gliding her tongue across Vi’s bottom lip, following it with a bite hard enough to crunch. Vi doesn’t flinch; instead, she smirks, scarred lip jumping against Caitlin’s.

This, Caitlin hates as much as she craves it. Their fucking is always a little like fighting, neither wanting to give in, not to pain or to want or to the need that creeps up their ankles and around their calves and thighs and leaves them aching for it.

A memory: the first time Vi crawled through those windows, fingertips marking the glass and her brow furrowed. “I had this idea, Cupcake.” The way Caitlin rolled her eyes, but, somehow, didn’t seem at all surprised to see Vi in her bedroom. The way her robe fell down her shoulders; no, the way Caitlin allowed it to fall. The flash in Vi’s eyes at the sight of the soft curve of her shoulders, her vision growing cloudy as her gaze dropped lower, to neck, to collarbone, to the way her tits cleaved even in her silken pajamas. Caitlin looking away, but reaching out with a single palm, a come here, and Vi answering with perhaps a little too much enthusiasm, tripping as she yanked her pants down and moved toward Caitlin as quickly as she could, footsteps plodding and loud on the hardwood. Caitlin giving in, a giggle escaping before she could muffle it. Getting Vi into her bed. Getting her onto her stomach on her bed. Surprising her by crawling behind her, shoving Vi’s head against the pillows, Caitlin’s hand on Vi’s neck, and whispering, hips pressing to hips, I’ll be gentle for this first one. 

Now, anything gentle is gone. It’s bone on bone, teeth gnashing at skin, the juts of their hips scraping and betraying their desperation. Each fuck lingers on the next one, drilling down to what’s at the base of this non-relationship. This mutual sense of respect and need and a sprinkle of distaste and leftover hate that mutates into the most overwhelming sense of desire, white hot and well-defined.

They know they could never have anything real in this world. Everything that exists is working against them. But fuck it, they can have this.

Vi pushes Cait’s sheer robe from her shoulders. She undoes the satin belt. She shoves at tulle and feather and, for a second, she forgets the promise of their silence and rolls her eyes, groaning the word “feathers” like it annoys her instead of turning her the fuck on, the chance to press inside of a woman like this, all luxury and class, until she’s a mess of herself, a mess of a woman, just like her, just like Vi, sweat and grunts and sticky fingers and zero shame.

Caitlin lets Vi push the robe away as if Vi is ever really in control. It’s a give and take, and Caitlin has come to learn that Vi likes to feel in charge until the very last second, and then have it yanked away. When Vi groans “feathers,” Caitlin bites her lip against a smile. She shrugs her shoulders back, bare beneath the robe. She lets her chest jut forward, feeling her shoulder blades meet at her back. Her collarbones jut forward. Her narrow waist flares out into curvy hips, and her soft belly rests on the top of her thighs. She can’t help herself; she wiggles, just a little, pretending she has to stretch.

Vi’s eyes go wide, and the moan that rips itself from her lips is well-worth Caitlin’s attempt at seduction. She likes to turn Vi into something pathetic, clear in her need and incapable of masking it. Vi reaches for Caitlin, thumbs wiping at the bottom of her tits, and Caitlin swallows back her own little sounds.

Vi smiles. This is the challenge of Caitlin. Turning her into a mess. She welcomes it. She’s never been afraid of a challenge, especially not in a package as pretty as this one.

Vi spirals her thumbs around each tit, closer and closer to her nipples, but refusing to touch them. Caitlin’s head drops back and her hands fall behind her, naked nails digging into the sheets. They’re too soft; she gets no purchase here. She only slides closer and closer to Vi, getting more and more distraught with each second that passes with these gentle, bullshit touches.

Another smirk from Vi. She slows her passes, and Caitlin cusses, a “fuck” from her plush lips. Pleased, Vi lowers her head, tongue laving at Caitlin’s nipple. Caitlin doesn’t hesitate – she shoves Vi’s head closer, lifting her hips in another ask.

“Demanding,” Vi whispers into Caitlin’s chest.

“You’re chatty tonight,” Caitlin snaps back, and Vi chuckles.

“Complaints?” Vi says. “I wouldn’t want to upset the princess.” She grins as she lifts her head, shifting her hips so that she falls back next to Caitlin. “I’ve got things to do tonight, anyway,” she promises. “Busy night in the undercity.”

Faceless girls flash behind Caitlin’s eyes. Again, that surge of envy. “Vi,” she says, but the sound of her name on her lips is too genuine. For a moment, Vi’s eyes get that soft, almost loving glimmer, and Caitlin shakes her head, blue hair nearly black in the evening light. She needs to regain power.

She takes it.

Vi visibly shudders when Caitlin crawls on top of her. She doesn’t fuck around. She doesn’t do the whole teasing thing that Vi loves to torture her with; no Caitlin goes for what she wants. She yanks at Vi’s clothes, tossing her pants and her binder to the earth, uncaring where they land. That glimmer of love ghosts in Vi’s gaze again, and Caitlin drops her head and bites Vi’s abs, dragging teeth down to her hip bone, hard. She slithers her hands behind Vi’s hips, nails digging into the lowest part of her tattoo, and pulls as hard as she can until Vi’s back is arched and her cunt is in Caitlin’s mouth, pouring a river of salt and something essentially Vi onto her waiting tongue. She kisses Vi like she’d kiss her mouth, sucking on her clit like she’d suck on her tongue, making gentle sweeps around where Vi wants her most, taking in the sound of Vi’s grunts and moans with a focus so intense that Caitlin’s entire world becomes, simply, this: Vi’s cunt in her mouth and Vi’s thighs squeezing her ears and Vi’s ass clenching as she begins to fuck Caitlin’s face.

When Vi comes, Caitlin rolls onto her back, pulling Vi with her, hips still undulating. Vi rains down on Caitlin’s face, and Caitlin welcomes each drop. She guides two fingers deep inside of Vi, and slides her other hand down between her own legs. As she fucks Caitlin – slowly and then more harshly, each press sending Vi running back up that hill, almost twitching in needing agony as Vi tries to get closer to Caitlin – Caitlin rubs two fingers so hard on her own clit that it’ll probably bruise. She thrusts into Vi as she thrusts into herself, her focus no less locked as she does whatever it takes to get them both to come at the same time.

Above her, Vi is near-sobbing as another orgasm approaches. Caitlin doesn’t know if Vi knows that she’s chanting her name like a prayer, but, much as she tries not to, she likes it. This ripped, powerful being on top of her, and needing her, prissy little Caitlin Kiramman, like this. Caitlin thanks her by taking her clit back into her mouth, tongue rubbing at the very bottom of her clit over and over again, never quite reaching the head, like she’s jacking her off with her mouth.

Vi pauses, her entire body freezing, and Caitlin feels the cut of white light flashing through her, her orgasm beginning at her shoulders and exploding across her naked skin like hot fingers. Vi cries out, her hips rutting at Caitlin’s mouth, and before Caitlin realizes it she’s flipped onto her stomach and Vi is behind her, now, still gasping and sweating and shuddering.

“Vi,” Caitlin says, “take a second.”

“I don’t need,” Vi gasps, “a second.”

“Are you sur-”

Three fingers are shoved into Caitlin’s entrance, a thumb at her ass, and she shouts, the sound a mixture of a scream and a laugh. She takes Vi with greed, arching her back and dropping to her forearms. If what Vi wants in this moment is a good girl, she’ll give her one.

But Vi knows Caitlin can’t help but give as good as she gets. The words power bottom roll through her mind as Caitlin pushes her hips back, wagging her ass, teasing even as Vi fucks her with frenzied fingers. Vi grips Caitlin’s hip with her free hand, kneading at the heavy flesh. She drags her body up Caitlin’s so that her front comes to Caitlin’s back. She drags wet lips across Caitlin’s long neck, brings her free hand now to Caitlin’s swaying tits, and pinches her nipple, rolling and digging into the cushiony brown skin.

“I can’t, Vi,” Caitlin whimpers, another orgasm approaching. This one has claws that begin at her ankles, setting her skin alight. Everything concentrates at her cunt, zeroing in on where Vi continues to fuck with no end in sight, her hips thrusting as she fucks her with her fingers.

“You can, Cupcake,” Vi promises, her lips on Caitlin’s ear, and Caitlin sees it again in her minds eye: the flash of care in Vi’s gaze in those moments here in her bedroom where their eyes meet and they can see it all. What could be, what might be, what might never be, but what does exist, now, this game of theirs, this hazy dream they get to create every time they sink into downy sheets and into each other.

Caitlin can, and she does. She is all smoldering white light and Vi joins close by, her own body shuddering and illuminated behind her. They crumble, a ball of spent energy. Caitlin is pressed wholly beneath Vi’s body. She hates how much she likes it. Big, strong arms come on either side of her, and give her a squeeze.

“Are you…” Caitlin says. “Hugging me?”

Vi jumps like she’s been jolted. “Uh,” Vi says, and she smirks. “No?”

Caitlin can’t help it. She bursts into laughter.

“Don’t laugh at me, Cupcake,” Vi says, sinking her face into her hands. But her shoulders are shaking, too.

“It’s Caitlin,” Caitlin reminds. “I’m not sure why you continue with this ‘cupcake’ business.”

Vi perks up. “You know why.”

They laugh, growing shy as the seconds pass. Vi rakes her eyes over Caitlin’s body. A part of her always wonders: will this be the last time? 

Caitlin takes in Vi’s eyes. Her thoughts grow quiet, and she puts everything she has into memorizing this moment. They both know how quickly life can flip. How much longer will they have this, whatever it is? A part of her always wonders: how can I protect this?

They don’t have the answers. They only have this, now. Caitlin doesn’t look at Vi as she holds out a palm, but Vi doesn’t hesitate. She simply sinks her fingers into Caitlin’s, grasping her long, clean fingers in her scarred ones. They pause, eyes locking, and take a breath.

A breeze through the window. The purple curtains around them sway. The taste of Vi still in Caitlin’s mouth. A gentle kiss, Vi pressing closed lips to Caitlin’s. A sigh.

For now. This is enough.

[justkeepshippingg]

has anyone done this yet

[justkeepshippingg]

50 shades of honor, is there anymore chapters??? LOVED IT SM

finally i can say... yes

and, thank you xo

[justkeepshippingg]

it’s so rude how I discover ur fic’s and figure out youve been gone for like a decade 😭

hello! years later… THE FULL FIC IS COMING 🙂‍↕️ 

and... a new chapter is now out.

[justkeepshippingg]

50 Shades of Honor: Chapter 20

50 Shades of Honor: A Zutara Smutfic

Rated: M

Pairing: Zutara Length: 1364

AU

Author’s note: eh hem. Forgive me? It’s been a while for us. It’s been seconds for them. Here we go, again.

Twenty: When it breaks

Katara swallowed. She wanted to rip the mask from his face and remember what it felt like to kiss him. She wanted to shove him into the wall and scream at him. She wanted him to hold her, to tell her it had all been a mistake, to say that he loved her, only her. She turned her head. She closed her eyes.

“Are you sleeping with her?” Katara said. She couldn’t open her eyes.

 “No.”

 “Are you in love with her?” 

“No.” 

A moment passed in which several things occurred: the music from the street shifted, thunder rumbled, and Katara gave up and asked the one question that truly mattered to her.

 “Are you in love with me?”

“Yes, Katara,” Zuko said, stepping forward, “yes.”

A shift in the air, an aching, a burning, finally meant to be satisfied.

They came together.

The heat of him against the sharp cold of the rain was almost too much.

Almost.

And yet, it was hardly enough.

Zuko pulled – yanked, really, jerked, like maybe he would die if he didn’t touch her, like maybe if he didn’t hold on tightly enough she would fade, a ghost in the arms of a ghost, two figures of a past that they’d lost, given up on, failed – and Katara was slammed against the rain-dampened stone behind her. She could barely register the pain; if anything, she welcomed it, the way the hard stone kept her grounded. This was real. And she was soaking him in. Zuko, Zuko, Zuko.

Zuko, here.

Zuko, again.

Zuko, inky-haired and scarred and breathless in her arms.

Her hands on the black fabric that made him nearly invisible in the dark.

His body formed around hers like a barrier, masking her from passersby. Anyone who saw them would see nothing noteworthy, anyway – what was one more couple in an alley-like market? Taking advantage of the dark was the entire purpose of this strip. It was the reason for the music that never ceased. It was the reason for the strips of red fabric that hung overhead. It was the reason Zuko didn’t need to cover Katara, not really.

But he needed to cover Katara.

Zuko couldn’t process this. He processed the cold rain dripping past his mask and through the fabric at his neck, tickling the soft skin there. He processed the scrape of the wall behind Katara when he pushed her up against it. He processed the sounds of laughter in the distance, shot glasses clanking, maybe even a fight breaking out and jeers and chuckles and then glass shattering. But he couldn’t process Katara herself.

He was too busy shattering himself.

Katara, here.

In his arms.

She knew it. She dug her nails into his arms, hard, bringing herself into reality, his reality. They gripped each other, harder and harder, blue eyes meeting gold, and there it was, the flash of it: reality. Truth. This. Them, here, alone. Together, again.

He stepped forward, his ankle bumping hers. She widened her stance, allowing his thighs to press against hers. So much fabric, so much rain, but she felt it, and so did he. Their hips meeting. The building of touch from below: ankles, knees, thighs, hips. Her nails sunk into his forearms and she wanted him to bruise. Anger, rage, shame.

He shifted his palms to her hips and kneaded at them, gently first, and then truly gripping the flesh. Sorry, sorry, sorry, I'll never let you go again.

He took another step and his chest found hers, rising and falling, her breasts shockingly warm in a way that made a bolt of lightning shoot from one of his hips and to the other, a crossbow of want. Their necks angling like they’d done this a thousand times, and maybe they had.

If they hadn’t, they certainly would.

“If I’m not inside of you, right now,” Zuko breathed, his lips brushing hers, “I’m going to die.” There was no desperation to his words, only honesty. He would die. He just would.

“What do you want?” Katara whispered.

He bracketed her torso with his arms and shoved his nose into her neck, mask scraping fragile skin. He inhaled her, winter and earthy iris and sunlight on his tongue. Now, he choked. “Everything.”

She softened. Her blue eyes glistened, with tears, maybe, or maybe she was just so overcome with want that she was beginning to melt out here in the cold and downpour. Everything would break her if she had to leave, everything would destroy her when she had to give him up, everything would slash her right down her center when she had to watch him return to his wife, but, right now, in this second, in the safety of the dark, she just didn’t fucking care.

“I need…” she flailed for words. Her nails drew blood. His bottom lip nudged at her throat, her collarbone, her chest.

“I know,” he whispered into her skin. They were out of balance. They were fire and ice, swirling in tense air. Would lightning strike? It felt like it could. He wanted to remind her that he was still him. He was still hers. He lifted his mask.

“Is that…” 

“Safe?” He laughed, now, the sound brusque. “Katara,” he said. “I don’t fucking care.”

A dark part in the back of her mind giggled. That makes two of us. 

Any levity was swept away when he shoved it entirely off of his face, golden eyes flashing, and wrenched her towards him. His mouth smashed down on hers, hot and wet and open, and she moaned a sound that ran its way down his spine as she matched each beat, each push of his lips was a press of hers, his tongue slipping over her bottom lip as she opened wide, feeling raw and naked in the alleyway, he their shelter in the storm. He shoved his thigh between her legs and her clit jumped. She jolted her hips against his and felt his dick twitch low against her belly.

She wanted it in her mouth, heavy flesh between her lips. She wanted it between her thighs, a violent rendering of his need.

She sank her hands into his hair and wrapped her hands through the silky strands. He twisted her hair into a bun at the base of her neck and pulled, pain shooting through her scalp and soaking her wrappings.

His lips returned to her neck, locking into the skin and sucking. She ran her hands down his back, dragging bits and pieces of his soul out of his spine until she reached his ass and dragged his hips back to hers.

She wanted to fuck him right in this alley.

She wanted to be whole again.

“I do too,” Zuko breathed.

Katara laughed out loud, now, hardly realizing the sound was exiting her mouth. Her eye darted from one corner of the market to the next, visualizing. He could fuck her behind the lettuce stand. He could fuck her on top of the tea stand. She could fuck him at the dark edge of the market itself, masked in shadows.

“But I can’t actually fuck you out here,” Zuko said, his own laugh a smile against her lips.

She whined and sucked his tongue into her mouth.

His hips bucked. “I want to, Katara,” he promised. “I would. But I need this to be right.”

“Take me,” she said. “Anywhere you want.”

Now his gaze dragged from her eyes to her mouth to the whole of her body, pupils dilating, distracted, before his good eye locked on something in the distance and widened.

“I have an idea,” he said.

“I trust you,” she said, and the words were true, even as her thoughts were marred by the needing heat that needled at her core. Just the thought of him pressing inside of her, his hands holding her thighs far and wide, his body shaking with the urge to just rail her, made her want to just do it here, passersby be damned. But he still had his wits about him.

“Come with me,” he said.

Zuko held out his palm, and there in the rain and the cold and the dark, she took it. 

[justkeepshippingg]

wow. i haven’t been on this account in... seven years.

oops.

do we want to finish 50 Shades of Honor?

[justkeepshippingg]

50 Shades of Honor: Chapter 19

50 Shades of Honor: A Zutara Smutfic

Rated: M

Pairing: Zutara: Length: 2000

AU

Nineteen: In The Heat of Summer Pt. 2

She wore all black and moved through the night and the rain it carried too easily. She remained dry despite the downpour. The rain bounced away from her body and dripped away like rain on a windowpane. She was untouchable.

That was how Katara felt, anyway, as she walked through the Fire Nation town and bent the raindrops away from her. Her subconscious had planned the all black outfit – she’d gotten into town a day early, and she wanted to remain inconspicuous. The awards show was tomorrow evening. Then, maybe, she would become a part of society again. For now, she just wanted peace.

She’d found happiness and comfort in the south with her family. She’d enjoyed the month they spent together. Still, though, it wasn’t what she wanted. With each day she spent there, she felt herself falling away. She always imagined she was meant for a comfortable life, and Sokka, an adventurous one. Katara smiled as she turned a corner. Maybe she’d been wrong.

Maybe she wanted adventure after all.

***

Every evening, Zuko slipped away into the darkness.

An allied partnership, he and Mai had made the decision to fake trouble with fertility. Soon enough the others would find out, but for now it gave them the opportunity to avoid each other’s physical company. He did not mind Mai. As far as companions went, he could imagine little improvement. She was thoughtful, and she didn’t talk too much. For that, he was grateful. More and more Zuko wanted nothing more than to be in his own thoughts.

He was wallowing, and he knew it, but he didn’t mind the angst. He greeted it like an old friend.

At night, he was just another being. The nightlife of the Fire Nation cities encouraged anonymity – he was not the only one wearing a mask. Men and women visiting and working at brothels greeted the night as readily as he did, with open arms and lips stained with liquor. At first the women greeted him, and then the men, but then they understood that the man beneath the mask was not one of them, not quite. They accepted this, and the Fire Lord was blessed by darkness, and silence.

***

Katara knew that the Fire Lord would be at the awards ceremony. It was his duty, after all, to preside over such events. She recalled the event where she had first seen him, so many months ago. She remembered how he had spoken, how everyone – including herself – had been mystified by his words, his confidence.

A flashback: his lips on her ear, his words, “You’re beautiful, you’re mine, you’re beautiful.” Back arched, thighs trembling. “Katara, Katara, Katara.” Heated breath against her neck. His tongue against her throat. “Let go, Katara.”

In the present, Katara touched her neck. Her entire body was flushed. She blessed the spirits for the cover of darkness. She turned a corner and caught sight of the tea shop. She recalled how he’d stood too close to her, how when he told her to enjoy the rest of the Fire Festival he’d seemed to be admitting to how badly he would like to enjoy her.

She wanted to walk in the opposite direction, to turn back the way she came. For any average person, it would be unsafe to be out right now, in the darkness, in the rain. She trusted her abilities, though. She could take anyone.

It was this emotional damage, though, that frightened her. Could she enter the tea shop? It was nearing midnight, but nothing was ever truly closed in the Fire Nation. She could hear people banging around inside, laughing, arguing over the latest political scandal. She found herself smirking. At least they wouldn’t be talking about her, anymore.

She continued past the tea shop. The thought of seeing the Fire Lord, of having even his uncle greet her… she knew she would fall apart.

***

The rain pattered all about, and Zuko wished not for the first time that he was a waterbender. It had been a rainy summer. He smiled ruefully, grateful for the cover of his mask. Even the Fire Nation cried without Katara. Her name jarred his heart in his ribcage, but Zuko was grateful for the pain. His worst fear was not of hurting over all that had happened with Katara – his worst fear was of no longer feeling anything for her at all.

In a small way, she was keeping him alive.

At times Zuko felt like a ghost. He had come to realize how little political power he truly wielded, and that realization forced him to realize just how inconsequential he was, how much of a waste his struggles and fights had been. He raised his hand to his scar, but his palm met the wood of the mask. He wore it so often now that he didn’t realize he was wearing it at all.

Three girls stumbled out of a bar, arms around each other’s waists and hair dampening quickly beneath the rain. They screeched and cussed. His heart constricted in his chest. One girl had long brown hair and darker skin. Not dark enough to be Katara, he decided, and kept moving.

What would he do, anyway, if he saw her? His uncle had been dropping hints. Even Toph had started dropping by again. Each day she let a little more slip. Toph was in an awards ceremony… she hoped he would attend; he would, wouldn’t he? Oh, she’d invited lots of people. She wanted to show off, of course. It was no small honor, being the main journalist to the Fire Lord… and by the way, Katara would probably be there. But she hadn’t responded with a definite yes or no, yet.

Each visit left Zuko anxious and, well, furious, because how was he to prepare himself for Katara if he had no idea if and when she would be coming? Should he expect to see her?

***

Katara knew she entered the city when she was surrounded by people. Some wore elaborate hairstyles and teetering shoes, others wore masks and vivid makeup, and many wore hardly anything at all. Katara noticed a lack of rain and looked up to see billowing red fabric. The entire street was covered by fabric that was hung from the left row of buildings to the right, leaving an effect that was tent-like. The resulting feeling was one of separation. It felt like a separate world.

Several men cat-called at Katara, but backed off when she gave them death glares. She approached a street cart and purchased a water, just in case. She kept walking. She eyed couples as she walked, couples kissing, couples cuddling, couples sleeping streetside. She had this feeling deep in her stomach that told her that she didn’t want to be alone, not now, and not ever. She wanted love, real love, not love based around politics or anything else untrue. She deserved it, real love.

Katara was nearing the end of the road when she felt hands on her shoulders.

***

He should have known she would attack. She hadn’t earned the title of master for nothing. He should have prepared her, should have spoken, first, but when he saw her he hadn’t been able to think. He had to act, immediately. There was nothing else to it.

She’d frozen him to the wall of the alley and had a dagger of ice to his neck before he could say a word.

“Who are you? And why are you following me?” Katara demanded, her hair falling into her eyes. She pushed it away.

“It’s me, Katara.”

Katara’s eyes grew wide, and she pushed the dagger closer to his throat. Tears were in her eyes.

“Don’t play with me,” she said, her voice quavering. “Let me see your face.” She watched as pale fingertips came to either side of the mask, pushing it slowly up to reveal a soft pink line of a mouth, a strong jawline, and - the red and purple edge of a scar.

The dagger melted, soaking his shirtfront, and she grabbed his hands, stopping him from lifting the mask all the way. She glanced around them, tears in her eyes, making sure they were alone.

“Zuko?”

***

Katara felt like the universe was playing a cruel, cruel trick on her.

In what world was it okay for Zuko to find her in an alley of all places, just as the red cloth disappeared and left her in the rain? In what world was it okay for him to say her name, Katara, so desperately? In what world could she deny him?

It was a cruel, cruel trick. 

“You – “ Katara stopped. She just… she couldn’t. The tears in her eyes began to spill. Zuko turned away from her. She couldn’t let go of her grip on his hands. “You… you’re married,” she spat. “You got married!” She was shouting, now. “How could you do this to me?” Every word that she’d kept inside began exploding from her. It was like her body couldn’t handle their weight any longer. Those words were trapping her, dragging her down, making her into this miserable person that she’d never been, had never wanted to become. “You destroyed me,” Katara said, and Zuko stepped back, his back hitting the wall. His entire body seemed to slump as if he’d been stricken. She waited for his response, but it didn’t come.

The rain began to pour harder. Katara didn’t bother bending it away from her. She watched it soak Zuko. His hair was longer, she noticed. She wondered if his wife took care of it for him. Did she like it longer, Mai?

“No,” Zuko said. Katara stared at him. “I take care of it myself.” Had she spoken aloud?

“So how is she?” Katara said. Thunder boomed somewhere in the distance. Katara wondered briefly if she had the ability to make it thunderstorm. Or was that more his territory?

 “What?” Zuko said. His voice was rough. She couldn’t tell if he was looking at her beneath the mask. There was something both infuriating and something comforting about not being able to see his face.

 “Your wife? How is she in bed?” Katara asked. She knew she was overstepping boundaries, but she didn’t care. She hadn’t lied when she said he’d destroyed her. She hadn’t realized the depth of her hurt until she’d admitted it to him. “I mean, I know you like to fuck,” Katara said, “so I really hope she’s good, for your sake.”

Zuko was in front of her in an instant. He smelled exactly as she remember, exactly how she imagined when she fantasized about him, her hand between her thighs, her teeth on her bottom lip and tears in her eyes. 

“I never fucked you, Katara,” Zuko said.

“Clearly that’s all it was,” Katara said. “Don’t you dare lie to me and tell me it was more. If it was more, than I can only hate you even more than I already do.”

Lighting flashed in the corner of Katara’s eye. It was miles away, but it felt too bright.

“You hate me?” Zuko said.

“Yes.”

A beat. “Well then,” Zuko said. He turned away from her. “I”ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want.” He turned toward her. “Is that what you want?”

Katara swallowed. She wanted to rip the mask from his face and remember what it felt like to kiss him. She wanted to shove him into the wall and scream at him. She wanted him to hold her, to tell her it had all been a mistake, to say that he loved her, only her. She turned her head. She closed her eyes.

“Are you sleeping with her?” Katara said. She couldn’t open her eyes.

 “No.”

 “Are you in love with her?” 

“No.” 

A moment passed in which several things occurred: the music from the street shifted, thunder rumbled, and Katara gave up and asked the one question that truly mattered to her.

 “Are you in love with me?”

“Yes, Katara,” Zuko said, stepping forward, “yes.”

A shift in the air, an aching, a burning, finally meant to be satisfied.

They came together.

[justkeepshippingg]

50 Shades of Honor: Chapter 18

50 Shades of Honor: A Zutara Smutfic

Rated: M

Pairing: Zutara Length: 2000

Chapter Eighteen: In The Heat of Summer pt. 1

Katara lay in bed.

Her eyes were on her ceiling, and one leg was beneath the blanket, the other free. She placed her hands on her bare, brown stomach and let them rise and fall with her breathing. It was the first day of summer, and the heat had hit hard. Toph’s love of air conditioning combined with the heat of the sun boiling her through her window left Katara unsure of whether she was cold or hot.

She sighed. She raked her fingers over her face. Her lips were salty with dried tears when she licked them.

She knew she was in some sort of denial, but there was really nothing else she could do. How could she admit that she’d fallen in love with the Fire Lord, engaged in a false relationship with him that had somehow turned into a real one, and then found out he’d become a part of yet another political relationship, only this time it wasn’t her. Mai.

She was beautiful, that was for certain. And acceptable. No exotic princess there. Mai was as native to the Fire Nation as the Fire Lord was.

Katara couldn’t even get herself to think his name. If she thought of his name she’d have to think of all the times she’d whimpered his name, moaned his name, cried his name.

Katara turned on her side, her back to the sun.

***

The two weeks following the marriage announcement at the ball were a flurry of paperwork, interviews, and glares from Toph and Jet, who were somehow always there. If Zuko had to have his picture taken by a frowning boy with a twig in his mouth one more time, he was going to snap. At least Jet left, though, after the interviews. Toph stuck around for tea with Iroh, and what she affectionately called “screwing with Zuko time.” She’d announce it to Iroh, who would chuckle, and then she drag a chair to wherever Zuko was working and interrogate him until she finally got bored.

She never talked about Katara, for which he was grateful. He was incapable of dealing with it. He’d seen her walk into the ball with her brown shoulders bared in a gown that flattered her beautifully, and he’d seen her face fall when she saw him with Mai.

A part of him wished he could have explained, but another part of him, the cowardly part, was relieved.

He couldn’t face her.

Now, he stood in a room of gold and red panels with Mai to his side and a presider sheathed in white holding the Fire Lady’s crown. Uncle Iroh sat behind a desk, an ancient, ink-blackened feather in hand and a scroll in hand. It was the formal marriage document signed by all Fire Lords and Ladies. Zuko had the unbidden desire to set the scroll aflame.

Mai leaned over and signed the document quickly, her handwriting sharp. The presider nodded. Iroh frowned.

“This is what you want to do?” Iroh said. “My nephew, I do not want you to –“ His words ended when Zuko signed on the dotted line beneath Mai’s.

“It is final,” the presider said. He placed a small gold crown into Zuko’s hands. He had a flash of his mother and shook away the memory.

Zuko turned to Mai. He placed the crown into her waiting hands. Mai’s head was bowed. Zuko watched her accept the gift with grace. “It’s yours, now,” he said. He wondered if his mother would have been proud. He knew she wouldn’t have been.

***

Katara went through a series of phone calls that afternoon. She hadn’t seen Toph all day, but she knew where she was. A part of her wanted to go to the palace, to say goodbye to Iroh, to thank the servants. That part of her wanted to say goodbye to him, too, one last time. The thought of his golden eyes terrified her, though. She knew she would fall to pieces if he looked at her the way she knew he would. She couldn’t stand to see the sorrow in his eyes.

So she went with the other part of herself, the part that told her to pick up the phone and make a final call.

“Katara?” The sound of her brother’s voice made her smile, despite everything else.

“Sokka? I’m coming home,” Katara said.

***

That evening, Mai approached him in a long, red silk robe. Zuko felt her hands on his shoulders, from where he sat at his desk. He was bent over dozens of sheets of paper. Everyone had something to say, these days. Everyone had an opinion on his personal life.

That was all he’d ever wanted to avoid, and it seemed he’d only made it worse.

Things with Katara were supposed to make things simple. He’d assumed his people would be proud to show that they were not judgmental, not close-minded. He’d assumed his people would have accepted her. He’d assumed many things.

He guessed his assumptions were the reasons that he was in this mess in the first place, though, because he’d also assumed that he would not fall in love with her.

Mai’s fingers massaging his shoulders brought him into the present. Her touch felt good, but it felt cold. It wasn’t the heat he was used to. Katara had spoiled him. He was ruined.

He’d been destroyed, and he’d let it happen. If anything, he’d initiated it. Katara had never been anything but upfront, and he’d backed out of their agreement with no warning. His hand gripped his pen tightly, and he smelled the plastic melting. He dropped it, and Mai’s hands dropped from his shoulders. He turned around to see her sitting in a chair beside him. Toph’s chair.

“What do you need from me?” Mai said, her face hard but something soft in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Zuko said. “I just…”

“I know,” Mai said. “It’s hard, isn’t it?” She swirled her fingers on her bare thigh.

“You had someone else?” Zuko asked. She didn’t respond.

“It’s hard,” Mai said. Her expression suddenly closed off. “I’m going to bed.”

***

“I can’t believe you’re leaving,” Jet said, pouting. He sat on the edge of the couch. He reached out his arms for Katara and she sank into his hug.

“This was always the plan,” she said. “To get certified and go teach at home.”

“You’ll visit?” Jet said, and Katara laughed, surprised to find herself crying.

“You two are a bunch of saps,” Toph said. She toed at the ground. Katara and Jet held out their arms, and Toph frowned.

“I am so not joining your wimpy hug,” Toph said. Jet and Katara exchanged a glance, and then they were tugging her forward.

“I love you too, Toph,” Katara said. She cried into her friend’s hair and heard Toph give a quiet sniff of her own.

She would miss her friends.

***

Zuko felt Toph’s hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged her off and kept walking. The palace seemed darker, somehow. It was too late, now.

She was gone.

Katara was gone.

***

Katara could not remember being colder than she was as she stepped into the fresh snow, but she had never been happier. She smiled at the brown faces running toward her.

“Katara!” Sokka shouted. Two children ran behind him, way bigger than Katara remembered. In the distance, Suki balanced a toddler on her hip, her free hand in Gran-Gran’s.

She felt warm arms embrace her, and she pulled away, laughing.

“You have a really weird beard,” she told her brother.

Sokka grinned. “Good to have you back, Sis.”

***

He’d been infuriated when Toph mailed the money back. All he’d wanted was to pay her for her services. She’d been successful. She’d made his relationship with Katara believable. It was all her.

It was all her.

Sending the money back had been like slapping Zuko in the face. It had been like forcing him to swallow the truth that had been choking him for months.

It wasn’t all her.

It was real.

He and Katara had been in love.

And he’d let her slip away. He’d let her go.

Zuko had let honor get in the way.

***

By day, Katara played with her nieces and nephews and giggled with Suki over Sokka’s strange habits. He’d developed a recent obsession with video games, which Suki had never permitted him to have until the boys had gotten older and wanted them. Now, he beat them to the controller every afternoon. Suki grilled her over her time in the Fire Nation, and she flushed and looked away every time.

“Yeah, Sis, what did you do over there? I remember some friends from work mentioning seeing you online,” Sokka said, shouting over his shoulder. He cussed at the screen.

“Sokka!” Suki admonished, covering her youngest’s ears.

Her niece plopped down into Katara’s lap, and Katara began to braid her hair. “The Fire Nation was boring,” she said. “I prefer you,” she told her niece, snuggling against her.

“If you say so,” Sokka said. Katara had never been so grateful for Suki’s ban on technology.

***

At night, he slept on top of the covers. Mai never complained. She had her duties, he had his own. There were some things that didn’t need to be discussed.

Theirs was a loveless relationship, something meant to soothe the commoners.

At night, he considered slipping into the darkness. It was all he wanted, really - to slip away. To be a part of the night. To not be the Fire Lord for once.

A week later, after hours of arguing with his council and a sighting of Toph, Zuko approached a servant with a bundle of black fabric. She understood, too quickly, and pulled a needle and thread from her drawer.

***

By night, Katara lay beside her Gran-Gran and listened to her stories. They discussed love, and truth, and honor.

She asked if Katara had ever been in love.

Katara turned away from her, her eyes staring out the window and at the glittering stars. Her own eyes began to glitter with tears.

“Once, maybe,” Katara said.

She smiled at the sound of her Gran-Gran’s soft snores.

***

He gave a child a gold coin in exchange for a disguise. The blue and white mask felt like freedom in his hands.

***

Katara got a phone call around midnight a month later.

There was going to be an awards show for the most powerful journalists in the Fire Nation; Toph was going to be featured, and would she go?

Katara had her bags packed faster than she cared to admit. She’d never really unpacked.

That one part of her, that teeny, desperate little part, had always known this day would come.

She was going back to the Fire Nation.

[justkeepshippingg]

50 Shades of Honor: Chapter 17

50 Shades of Honor: A Zutara Smutfic

Rated: M

Pairing: Zutara Length: 3000

AU

Chapter Seventeen: Without Warning

A week later, Katara woke to Zuko softly calling her name. She felt his fingers pushing her hair away from her face and mumbled unintelligibly. She was too warm to move or even think about moving. 

“Katara,” Zuko whispered, pressing his forehead against hers, “you have to wake up.”

“Too early,” Katara said, pressing a close-mouthed kiss to his lips. She heard Zuko swallow and then the squeak of the bed as he stood.

“We have that photo op, remember? Toph set it up.”

“Mm,” Katara said, rolling over.  Katara thought of expensive satins smoothing over her skin and beautiful shoes on her feet and felt a wave of happiness flood through her. As much as she hated to admit it, she really did enjoy feeling girly. “Time to get pretty,” she mumbled, and then she opened her eyes.

Zuko was standing at her side with a towel around his waist and a soft look on his face. “Already pretty,” Zuko said, almost shyly. Katara pushed away the feeling deep in her stomach.

“Zuko,” Katara said, and Zuko’s golden eyes told her he already knew what she was going to say, that he wanted to hear her say it. Katara bit her lip and turned away, forcing her face into the pillow.

She couldn’t admit to it. Not yet.

“Help me get ready?” Katara said instead, and lifted her face from the pillow. Zuko’s face fell for a moment before he nodded.

“Of course,” Zuko said, “though you do have stylists for that.”

Katara grinned. “Stylists can’t help me shower.”

Ten minutes later, Katara was standing in the bathtub with Zuko sitting on the edge, his teeth on his bottom lip and his erection visible beneath his towel. She bent the water away from him and focused on the way his eyes felt on her body, scorching, needy, and the water under her power. She bent the water drops over her body like a sheet and submerged herself beneath it, and when she opened her eyes beneath the water Zuko was staring at her as if in a daze.

She dropped the water, and it fell to the base of the top with a splash.

“I think I forget,” Zuko said, more to himself than Katara.

“I am a master,” Katara said, and she heard Zuko chuckle as she stepped out of the tub. She rifled through her bag for a razor and flushed when she realized Zuko was staring at her.

“Zuko?” Katara said, and Zuko eyed the razor in her hand.

“Yes, Katara?”

“I’m thinking of trying something,” she said, approaching him. She sat beside him and nudged him with her elbow. He’s embarrassed to look at me when I’m naked. Zuko’s eyes flicked from her breasts to her eyes and Katara smiled. She took his face in her hand and kissed his cheek, closing her eyes. He smelled like clean and Zuko, and something about that did something to her. Katara bent the water from the tub into a circle and pressed it to her crotch, not realizing how sexual it would look to Zuko until his erection twitched beneath the towel. She ignored him and reached for a bottle of cleanser, which she poured into her hand.

“You’re going to –“

“You’re going to,” Katara amended, rubbing her hands together to create a lather. With her blue eyes locked on Zuko’s gold ones, she spread the cleanser over her vulva.

“Have you done this before?” Zuko asked, eying the curls at her crotch.

“No,” Katara said, face flushing. She knew a lot of people did it, but she had just never found it necessary.

“Hold on,” Zuko said. He stood and walked over to the mirror, and returned with a pair of scissors.

“Smart,” Katara said. Zuko smiled, and he knelt on the floor in front of her. Katara spread her legs, and Zuko began touching her. Ever-so-carefully, Zuko pushed his fingers through the hair between Katara’s legs and began to trim it. Katara felt her heart pounding in her chest and tried not to focus on the feeling of his fingers sweeping against her curls. She stared down at his dark head between her legs and prayed to the spirits that she would never have to go a day in her life without having him. Zuko placed the scissors on the floor and pushed his fingers through the hair to remove any loose tangles, and then he picked up the razor. So lightly that she could hardly feel the pressure of it against her skin, Zuko began to shave Katara. She tilted her head so that she could see the hair disappearing, and when Zuko held out the razor, Katara bent water over the blades to clean it. This happened several times until Katara was bald except for a thin line surrounding her lips. Zuko placed the razor aside and sat back on his thighs, staring at Katara. Katara stared at herself too, and without thinking she walked her fingers over the smooth skin.

“Hmm,” Katara mused. “It’s very different.”

Zuko swallowed hard and nodded.

“May I?” Zuko asked, and Katara nodded. Zuko scooted forward and knelt before Katara. He propped her feet on his thighs and cupped her newly-bare vulva in his hand. Katara gasped and gripped the tub.

“Very different,” he repeated, and his middle finger pressed forward. “We have some time before –“ Katara grabbed his head in her hands and kissed him fiercely.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Katara said, grinding against his palm. Zuko removed his hand and replaced it with his mouth, and then he was flicking her clit with his tongue, the movement swift and shocking. Katara bucked her hips against his face and Zuko moved his face down, his lips capturing her labia and his tongue slipping between the folds. Katara felt her thighs twitching every few seconds as he lavished her. She tightened her thighs around Zuko’s head and he gripped her hips in his hands, putting all of his effort into eating her out until his entire mouth was coated in her juices and Katara’s thighs were shaking around his neck. Zuko moaned against her, and the vibrations set Katara off. Her orgasm left Zuko’s mouth drenched and his arms sore from holding her in place to keep her from slipping off of the tub.

“Oh spirits,” Katara said, gasping. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Zuko, pulling him to her. “Thanks,” she breathed, “for helping.” She pulled away, and Zuko wiped his mouth of her. She felt herself flush.

“Any time, Katara,” Zuko said. He kissed her once, and Katara tasted herself on his lips. Zuko stood, readjusted his towel, and held Katara’s robe out for her. “You should hurry to your stylists. They’re down the hall, past Uncle’s room.” Katara nodded and took the robe from him. Zuko pressed a kiss to her neck and Katara’s entire body warmed.

He stood at the door and watched as she passed, and as if he couldn’t help himself, Zuko pulled Katara to him and hugged her tightly. “You’re beautiful,” Zuko said into her hair, his eyes closed and his chin against her hair, “so beautiful.” Katara reveled in his warmth, felt his heart beating in time with hers, and she knew. He loves me.

When he let go, Katara kissed him once, hoping that it conveyed what she wanted it to. With one last smile, she disappeared into the hallway and went to get ready.

In the dressing room, Katara was poked and prodded by several people wielding fancy fabrics and measuring tape.

“It sounds like you look lovely,” Toph said from where she sat slumped over several pillows in the corner of the room. She had her laptop in her lap and was typing furiously. The headphones in her ears read the screen to her, so Katara spoke loudly to be heard.

“Whatever happened with that kid who was following you around?” Katara said, flinching when a stylist began yanking at her hair with a silver comb.

“Aang?” Katara was surprised to see a blush on Toph’s pale cheeks. “He’s not a kid, you know. He’s my age.”

“He’s cute,” Katara said.

“Eh, he’s okay,” Toph said, but she couldn’t hide the smile on her face. That smile abruptly disappeared. “I’ll be back,” Toph said, and without another word she was dashing across the hall to Uncle Iroh’s room and slamming the door.

“She’s a fun one,” one of the stylists remarked, tugging a piece of fabric across Katara’s waist.

“I styled her last week,” another said. “Not a fan of makeup, I learned.”

“She’s never been a fan,” Katara said, thinking of the spa day she forced her to go on for her birthday. Toph had terrified the poor attendees.

An hour later, Katara stood at the front door of the palace, her blue eyes widened by heaps of mascara and her body encased in a burgundy gown with gold detailing down the back. Zuko stood at her side, his gold crown perched atop his long black locks and his eyes on hers.

“Beautiful,” he said simply, and Katara opened her mouth to say what she should have said so long ago.

“Alright everyone, up and at ‘em! Widen those eyes and look in love,” Toph yelled as she approached, a dozen people behind her including a terrified – but excited – looking Aang. Katara and Zuko tore away from each other, not having realized how close they’d gotten.

“It is an honor to photograph you this evening,” Aang said, pausing to bow at the Fire Lord as he passed.

“We are grateful for your service,” Zuko replied quickly so that the boy could stop bowing at him. Uncle Iroh followed with several guards in tow.

“Alright, Nephew. These photographs will be printed in tomorrows papers, right as the articles about your new proposals go out. Do well and, my nephew, I believe truly that you will be able to make the difference you seek to make in this nation.” Iroh smiled broadly at his nephew, and Zuko ducked his head, embarrassed.

“Thank you, Uncle,” Zuko said, allowing his uncle to pull him in for an embrace. Iroh hugged Katara before gesturing that she walk ahead of him. Zuko walked beside Katara, and together they entered the royal carriage. All for show, the carriage was led by two large white horses decorated elaborately with gold. Everyone else entered their cars, and they were off to the event. Katara leaned easily against Zuko, her eyes fluttering closed when he began to rub circles into her thigh.

“Zuko,” Katara whispered, and Zuko shifted so that his eyes met hers.

“Katara?” Zuko said.

His golden eyes were so earnest and so open, Katara realized. He was always open with her. The guarded man she’d met so many weeks ago was no longer. He was thoughtful, passionate, caring, and above all, Zuko was the man that Katara was in love with.

There was the shocking sound of a walky-talky bursting to life, and then the carriage stopped and there was much yelling and Katara and Zuko were being led to a car and sped back across town, unable to think, let alone speak about what was going on. Katara saw the town looking just as it always did, children playing, mother’s chatting, and then she was being led into the tea shop and Zuko was pacing back and forth, his eyes furious, his expression hard.

“What happened?” Katara asked, hating how childish she sounded. Iroh sat beside Katara, and for the first time she saw him as the general he once was.

“Katara, there are times when a leader cannot change his public, no matter how honorable his intentions. There are times when an action is set in motion before anyone notices, when a flame is set to burn bright even when it may dim the visibility of all others,” Uncle said. He opened his mouth to continue, but was cut off by his nephew.

Zuko hung up the phone and stepped forward, his golden eyes fiery. “The Fire Nation rebels have attacked the Southern Water Tribe.”

—-

That evening, there was a knock on the royal bedroom door. When there was no answer, Zuko stepped forward, his expression stony. Katara could hardly face him, though she didn’t know why. She didn’t know anything anymore. Her throat ached from her sobs and her eyes were tired and red. She felt Zuko’s weight on the bed and turned toward him, fresh tears springing to her eyes.

“Have you heard the casualties?”

“Only fifty,” Zuko said. Before Katara knew what she was doing, she was sitting up and shouting.

“Only fifty? Zuko, they’re people! They are my people. My Gran-Gran, my brother, his wife, my nieces and nephews,” Katara bent at the waist, her hand over her mouth. She felt as if she were going to vomit or fall to pieces – she couldn’t tell which. She couldn’t tell anything.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Zuko repeated, his arms wrapping around her, his lips pressed against her head in a soothing gesture. “It’s… sometimes, it’s numbers. Sometimes all I can do to deal is to see numbers.”

“You… you can’t. You have to feel it, you don’t get to escape it,” Katara said, wiping her eyes.

“You blame me,” Zuko said, his eyes shutting tightly.

“I don’t blame you,” Katara said. “I just want to know that my family is okay.”

“We will know my tomorrow. The forces left early enough that they should make it by midnight. The rebels will be taken care of, and your people will be protected.”

“Zuko,” Katara said, her words blurred by tears.

“Yes?” Zuko said.

“Will you please,” Katara sniffed, hating how pathetic she felt, “just hold me tonight? Will you please just not let go?” Katara said, and Zuko cradled her face in his hands.

“Yes, Katara, always.”

—-

When Katara heard the news that no one she knew died, she was so grateful that she forced herself not to be infuriated by the sudden presence of a woman in the palace. She started to see her everywhere she went, this tall, thin, pale woman with hair as long and black as Zuko’s and eyes like daggers. Rumors began milling around, and Katara noticed the servants eyeing her with suspicion.

Katara hadn’t seen Zuko in nearly a week. He spent all of his time in the palace meeting room shouting at other people (who were also shouting), and if he wasn’t in the palace he was being interviewed by every big news outlet in the nation. There was suspicion surrounding the incident, and one piece of gossip in particular kept Zuko shouting: some believed that Zuko had only ordered the deaths of the rebels because of his relationship with Katara, and thus his alliance to the Southern Water Tribe. Some wondered if the rebels had really been rebels at all and wondered if they had the right idea – they had never liked Katara that much anyway, the exotic princess. There was something a little off about her.

Katara knew none of this, only knew that she was the most grateful woman in the world to have lost no one in the attack.

Over dinner, Katara learned that the woman was Mai and that she was native to the Fire Nation. She also learned that Mai had grown up with Zuko, and was quite fond of him. She watched Mai eyeing Zuko with a look so confident that something twisted in her stomach.

That week, several things happened: Mai didn’t leave the palace, Zuko continued shouting in the meeting room, and the palace held a ball.

“A ball already, hm? It seems a bit odd,” Katara speculated. Jet stood at her side, straightening his tux.

“The Fire Nation is a bit odd. They solve problems with balls. Nothing like spoiling the royals further to hush the gossipers.”

“What do you mean?” Katara asked.

“We should get out there,” Toph said, standing. She placed her arm in Katara’s and began leading her to the ballroom. As soon as they reached the doors, Katara heard Toph cuss under her breath.

“Wha-“ Katara was silenced by the sight of Zuko dancing with Mai, his body close to hers and her mouth against his ear. She couldn’t see Zuko’s face, but she could see Mai’s, and she knew from the look on her face that, somehow, she’d lost.

Katara stared, frozen, until Jet and Toph tugged her away.

“What the fu-“

“Katara, I didn’t want to say anything until I knew it was true,” Toph said. Katara stared at the dance floor, still in shock.

“Katara,” Jet said, placing his hands on Katara’s cheeks.

“He’s dancing with her,” she said, “he’s dancing, with her.”

“You need to listen to me, Katara. The Fire Nation can’t be trusted,” Jet said.

“He’s not… he’s not the Fire Nation. He’s Zuko,” Katara said, struggling to make sense of it all. “You’re paranoid.”

“He’s not,” Toph said, a sad look on her face. “The Fire Nation has a way of trying to fix things with marriage.”

“You really hadn’t heard?” Jet said, his hand on her shoulder.

“I’ve been busy. I was worrying,” Katara said, swallowing.

“There is nation-wide speculation that the only reason Zuko sent troops to end the Fire Nation rebellion is because he’s with you. Those rebels were killed, Katara, and their families are angry. They are blaming him, but more importantly, they are blaming you.”

“I don’t –“

“It’s over, Katara,” Toph said, a sorrowful expression on her face, “He’s marrying her. He’s marrying Mai.”

[justkeepshippingg]

50 Shades of Honor: Chapter 16

50 Shades of Honor: A Zutara Smutfic

Rated: M

Pairing: Zutara Length: 2,500

AU

Chapter Sixteen: The Punishment Pt. 2

Katara watched as Toph lounged on a velvet, red chaise shoving grapes into her mouth by the dozens.

A boy a few years younger sat perched on the edge of a stool, a notepad in hand and his eyes flicking between Toph’s lips and the grapes she was devouring. Katara smile and let her gaze assess the room. It was a lazy sort of Sunday, despite the many things to do. Uncle Iroh hummed to himself quietly and made tea from his place on a golden cushion on the floor, and Jet was snapping photographs of himself aimlessly, his eyebrows arched and a smirk on his lips. Katara caught him and he winked at her, making her shake her head. It was hard to believe that they’d had sex.

It was even harder to believe she’d become a certified waterbending master.

How the weeks had passed, she wasn’t sure, but at the end of class that afternoon her teacher had pulled her aside, shaken her hand, and bowed her head. Katara had felt tears well in her eyes as she realized she was finally certified, could finally move back home and teach just as she’d always wanted.

There was only one problem.

Her one problem strolled into the room, an easy smile on his pale face and warmth in his golden eyes when they met hers. Oh Zuko. Katara raised her hand to her throat and looked up at him through her eyelashes. Zuko’s gold eyes narrowed in question, and Katara bit her lip.

She wanted him, desperately. It had already been too long.

“Has she told you the news?” Uncle Iroh said, a smile on his face but his voice solemn.

“News?” Zuko said, his eyes moving from his Uncle’s back to Katara’s. This time, she lowered her eyes. This had all gotten too complicated.

“She got certified!” Jet said, a proud smile on his face.

A pause. “Wow,” Zuko said.

“I know,” Toph said dryly.

“Where’s the celebration?” Jet exclaimed, confused about the lack of excitement. Katara wasn’t sure what to feel.

“Let’s celebrate,” Zuko said, his voice too loud and his smile too obviously fake. Katara couldn’t look at him.

“I’ll get the alcohol,” Toph said. She grabbed the hand of the black-haired boy at her side. “Aang, come with me.” The boy nodded and ran after her.

“We should take some pictures. The public will want to hear about this,” Jet said. “Katara?” Katara turned to Jet, and his expression softened. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Everything is great,” Katara said. Katara stood and walked over to Zuko, feeling unsteady, confused.

“I’ll go find us some music.” Uncle said, humming as he left the room. Zuko and Katara stood beside each other silently as Jet clicked away, switching angles as he went. He frowned.

“You’ve got to give me something to work with,” Jet said.

“I am!” Katara glared at him. Jet only laughed.

“Please.” Jet stood and held out a hand. “Fire Lord, if you would.” Zuko sighed and gave his hand to Jet, and Jet arranged them so that Zuko was standing behind Katara, his hand on her hip and her head on his shoulder. She could feel his heart pounding against her back. “Now smile,” Jet said. Katara did as he asked, and Jet snapped a photograph. Satisfied, he nodded at the pair and sat back down, flipping through the evening’s photographs. The sound of flutes and the low pitch of the tsungi horn filled the air, and a pleased looking Uncle Iroh re-entered the room. He sat back on his cushion and waved over his nephew. Zuko cleared his throat and separated from Katara to tend to him.

“We got the goods!” Toph shouted, walking into the room with a grin on her face and her arms in the air, bottles of red liquid in either hand. Aang followed behind, several glasses in his hands and a nervous look on his face.

“So you’re her lacky, now?” Jet said, a smirk on his face. Aang flushed.

“I am her apprentice. I had to learn from the master,” Aang said, his large eyes on Toph as he spoke. The woman only shrugged.

“I am the best journalist in town. He’s my intern. My follower, if you will.” A slow grin appeared on her face. “Intern, get to pouring.”

Within moments everyone was lounging about, drinks in hand and music playing loudly. Aang seemed wary of Jet, who kept prodding him about his love life, and Toph only embarrassed him further by insinuating that their were big reasons she kept him around. Iroh left and returned with several more friends, and before they knew it, there was a party going on, albeit a smaller one than usual. A lot of the staff joined them, and Katara watched as Zuko asked a couple, both servants, about their pregnancy. Katara’s eyes fell to wear the expectant mother held her swollen stomach, and she placed her own hands on her stomach. She couldn’t imagine it, the feeling of something growing, living inside of her. Zuko caught her gaze and Katara turned away quickly, pretending to sip from her glass. She still had no interest in Fire Whiskey. An hour passed, and Katara was laughing with a tipsy guard whose name she had already forgotten. He was telling her stories about his son and his complete disregard for all rules, and Katara was reminded immediately of Sokka. She was laughing out loud, head tossed back, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. The guard sobered up immediately and bowed.

“Fire Lord,” he said quickly, and with a smile at Katara the guard stepped away.

“Yes?” Katara said, turning to face Zuko.

“Can we speak for a moment?”

“Of course,” Katara said, trying to keep her voice easy. When Zuko didn’t speak, she took the hint and left the room. She could hear him chatting with a few more people as she turned the corner, and then the voices faded completely. She stood alone by his bedroom door, her throat tight and her eyes closed as she tried to control her breathing. The entire day – the entire month – seemed to pour over her like ice water. She was certified. She was going home. She had slept with the Fire Lord. She was still being referred to as the Exotic princess, but was no longer anonymous. She had been around long enough for them to get the details on her. Katara, Water Tribe, student. Sometimes they said she was beautiful. Other times she was said to be too odd, too strange looking, that something was off but they couldn’t pinpoint it. Katara leaned against the wall.

What the hell did I agree to when I signed onto this?

Katara felt hands on her shoulders, but kept her eyes closed. She felt his forehead rest against hers, his breath warm on her face, scented with alcohol and chocolate.

“You got certified,” Zuko said, his voice low.

“Yes,” she whispered, eyes still shut tightly.

“Congratulations,” he said, and Katara didn’t respond. “This is what you wanted.”

“Yes.” A beat. “I can move home, now.”

A moment.

“You can,” Zuko said, his sigh sending his breath across her face. Katara dug her hands into his hair, holding his forehead to hers. He placed his hands on her shoulders, and Katara could feel him shaking.

“Talk to me,” Katara said. Zuko swallowed, and Katara let go of him and opened her eyes.

The sight of her trusting blue eyes was all it took. “You’re not leaving me,” Zuko said, “you can’t. How could you - I can’t -” Katara cupped Zuko’s face in her hands, hardly aware of the tears filling her eyes.

“I don’t want to go,” Katara said. “Zuko.” She turned his face toward hers again. “Talk to me. Tell me how you’re feeling.” Zuko kept his eyes off of hers, but Katara stared right at him, gulping back tears and trying not to fall apart. She could hear their friends in the other room, celebrating. Somewhere in the mix she heard Jet’s easy laugh, Toph’s following chuckle.

“I’m angry,” he said, his eyes soft when they met hers.

Without missing a beat, Katara said, “Then punish me.”

“Just tell me to stop if you change your mind,” Zuko said, and then he was grabbing her wrists and dragging her into his bedroom. He pulled the door closed and stepped away from her.

“Take off your clothes,” Zuko said.

]With each button Katara undid, she felt herself growing wetter. The sight of Zuko standing before her, his face serious but his eyes showing how close he was to coming completely undone… she shivered as her blouse fell to the floor. She stepped out of her skirt so that she stood in just her wrappings, watching Zuko’s golden eyes drag up her body.

“Your turn,” Katara said, but Zuko shook his head.

“I’m in charge,” he said. He stepped forward, his hands coming to rest on her hips. His face leaned down to her ear and he whispered, “just tell me when its too much.” Katara nodded, and Zuko lowered his face further and bit down on her nipple through her wrappings. Katara cried out, and Zuko placed his hand over her mouth.  Zuko removed his lips from her breast, and Katara felt a jolt of pain. “Be quiet,” he urged, “and go lay on the bed.” Katara complied and climbed onto the bed. Zuko removed his shoes and stood at the side of the bed. He began unraveling her wrappings, his eyes raking over each newly available inch of skin. Once her entire body was freed, he pushed her onto her back and tied her hands behind her back roughly with her wrappings, knotting the fabric tightly. Katara gasped at the pain and rubbed her thighs together, but Zuko hummed his disapproval and pulled them back apart.

“Zuko,” Katara complained.

“You said you wanted to be punished,” Zuko said. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?” As he spoke, Zuko ran his hands over Katara’s bare ass, squeezing and playing with the flesh.

“I haven’t,” Katara panted, surprised by how turned on she was getting from something like this.

“Good,” Zuko said, and then he smacked her ass, hard. Katara yelped, and Zuko rubbed his fingers over the area. “Agni, you have a great ass,” Zuko said, the words so quiet Katara knew she wasn’t meant to hear.

“Again,” Katara mumbled into the sheets. She wished she had control of her arms – she needed to grab something, anything – but her arms were immobile. Even her legs were under his control. She was powerless – and she liked it.

Zuko spanked her harder this time, and Katara felt her ass shudder with the force of the blow. She grunted into the sheet, the sound so animalistic it surprised her.  He hit her again, this time with the back of his hand, and Katara moaned, the sound low and hoarse. She listened as he removed his clothes and waited anxiously, trying not to rub her thighs together. She knew it would only make him angrier.Maybe that’s a good thing? Katara tried rubbing her thighs together, and immediately she felt Zuko’s fingers digging into her legs.

“Really, Katara?” Zuko said, and Katara heard him sucking on his fingers. Without warning, Zuko shoved his finger inside of her. Her breath exhaled her in a sudden whoosh, and Katara began bucking back against him, trying to rub her clit on his hand. “Oh fuck,” Zuko said at the feeling of her warm juices on his palm. He pushed his hand forward and up, giving her a bit more leverage. Katara panted as she ground against his palm, grateful for the friction. Zuko seemed to remind himself of his goal and pulled his hand away, the sharp removal leaving her aching.

She didn’t complain for long, though, because as soon as his fingers left, Zuko’s cock was entering her, hard and thick.

Their groans filled the room, and Katara’s voice caught in her throat.

“Pull my hair,” Katara said. Zuko tugged on her hair, hardening further inside of her as he rolled his hips into hers. Katara felt her breasts bouncing as she moved. “Harder, Zuko, harder.” Zuko yanked on her hair, and Katara bit down on her lip.

“What else, Katara, what else do you need?” Zuko asked. Katara could feel him twitching inside of her, knew he was close. Katara rolled her hips back and Zuko groaned, and Katara knew he was desperate to make her come, needed them to come together.

“Hit me,” Katara said, her voice hardly above a whisper. Zuko froze behind her, and Katara felt tears in her eyes. He’s not going to do it. I’ve asked for too much, scared him away.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“I’m sure, Zuko, please,” Katara said, and ever so gently Zuko’s hand brushed the soft skin of her cheek. He leaned forward, his back against hers, and she could feel his heart pounding. “Harder,” she whispered, and Zuko slapped her cheek. Katara couldn’t believe the sensations flooding her, and her moan spurred Zuko on. He placed both hands on her ass and began fucking her hard, his hip bones grating into her ass and his nails creating crescent moons on her skin. Katara felt her entire body seizing and Zuko pulled away suddenly, leaving her just on the line of orgasm.

“What the hell!” Katara shouted, rolling over onto her back.

“You wanted punishment,” Zuko said, his voice hard as he parted her thighs. Katara struggled to free her arms but couldn’t. They remained trapped beneath her. Zuko crawled forward and dragged his cock down her inner thigh, making her arch her back and bite her lip to hold back her cries. Zuko rubbed the head of his erection against her warm, wet center and pushed just the head in. Already extremely sensitive from being so close to orgasm, Katara was ready to shove him inside of her and get on with it. Zuko parted Katara’s legs so far that it hurt and he began fucking her in earnest, his balls slapping against her as he moved as fast as he could, urging her forward. Katara felt it building up again, felt her thighs tightening and her stomach muscles twitching, and Zuko brought his hand down to her ass, hard, and bit down on her neck so roughly that Katara screamed into the sheets. Katara came, her inner muscles squeezing him and her swollen clit aroused further by his continued thrusting. Zuko hitched her legs over his shoulders and continued fucking her until his release, and then he pulled out and went down on her, licking her clit again and again until she exploded, this orgasm greater than the last, her screams filling the royal bedroom.

[justkeepshippingg]

50 Shades of Honor: Chapter 15

50 Shades of Honor: A Zutara Smutfic

Rated: M

Pairing: Zutara Length: 3,000

AU

Chapter Fifteen: The Punishment pt. 1

Katara didn’t see Zuko for a week.

 She saw him in photographs, magazines, newspapers. She saw him at the head of the dinners she was forced to attend. She saw him in passing as she entered the palace.

But he never spoke to her.

Zuko did not even look at her.

At night, Katara cried. She turned away from the empty space in bed where he was supposed to be sleeping and wept into his pillow. She hated it, knew she had nothing to be sad for, nothing to be sorry for, either, but she couldn’t help but wonder if she had messed up. The night had seemed so perfect to her. She had felt sexy and powerful and loved. But now she wondered if she had made it all up, was wrong to have felt that way.

Katara hated questioning herself, but still the thoughts came, and the tears.

By the end of the week, she was sick of it. She was not some weakling, was certainly not the type of woman to let a man control her sexuality. So she had enjoyed a threesome – was that not the point in the first place? Didn’t he say it was all about her pleasure? Did he not want to make her feel good?

If he regretted it, it was his fault, not hers.

She sat at the end of the table, her hands clutching each other in her lap. She made small talk with the royals surrounding her, and she avoided looking at the pale, angular face on the opposite end of the table. She kissed goodbye and shook hands as she always did, bowed as was custom, accepted complements on her gown – blue, now, always blue – and followed the Fire Lord through the palace doors. He had taken to it, recently, following the royals outside as if it were really necessary for him to walk them to their carriages. She stood behind him, her hand waving to the elite but her eyes glaring at his back, his narrow hips, his muscular legs hidden beneath red cloth and black silk.

Zuko turned to re-enter the palace, and startled when he saw her inches in front of him.

“Agni,” he said. “You surprised me.” Katara evaluated Zuko’s expression – his golden eyes seemed hard, his mouth tight.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” Katara’s face was hard as she glowered at the Fire Lord. The ground beneath her feet felt uneven, and her head was swimming. She could smell him, could imagine him inside of her.

All around them, the sun began to fall, casting the pair in rays of orange light.

Zuko opened his mouth, and Katara knew from the tilt of his brow that an excuse was coming. “Don’t you dare lie to me,” she said, stepping forward. Her hands came to his chest and her head bowed forward. She felt as if she were being sucked into him.

I don’t want to fight with Zuko, Katara realized.

“Just tell me,” she said into his chest.

Zuko kept his hands at his sides. “I feel like the worst man in the world,” Zuko said, and Katara clenched her eyes shut. “I know I shouldn’t care.”

“You shouldn’t,” she mumbled.

“It was my idea in the first place.” Really? “I wanted to make you feel good. I didn’t… I don’t think I knew how hard it would be to see you, with him, someone you used to love, and care about.” By now he was whispering quickly into her hair, his nose brushing her scalp as he inhaled her. “I knew you would feel more comfortable, knowing him. I wanted to…” he swallowed, “to please you.”

“You did,” Katara said, her nails digging into his sides. She could feel him falling apart against her.

“I didn’t know how hard it would be,” Zuko said, his face buried in her hair.

Katara walked away, tilting her head to call him toward her. He followed her down several paths and to the garden. They reached a row of neatly placed trees, and Katara turned suddenly, her body slamming against his. He stilled them, and Katara looked into his eyes, her own blazing.

“You do not own me, I am not yours,” she spat.

“I know, I know, Katara,” Zuko said.

“Then come here,” Katara said. She walked toward a tree toward the back of a garden, surrounded by large bushes. Katara turned and stared at him, her arms at her sides and her back straight. Zuko approached quickly, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders.

“Just tell me, tell me what you want,” Zuko said, but Katara shook her head.

“Do what you want. I’ll tell you to stop,” Katara said.

“Are you – are you sure?” Zuko said, knowing what she was asking for.

“I’m not yours, Zuko. But I… just pretend, for a moment, that I am,” Katara said, aware of the suggestion of her words.

“Turn around,” Zuko commanded, golden eyes flashing, mouth in a line. Katara turned, her front to the tree.  He stepped forward, shoving his hand between her legs and rubbing her roughly. Katara bit her lip to suppress a shout.

“He did this to you,” Zuko said. “Didn’t he?”

“Yes,” Katara said.

“And you liked it? Didn’t you?” Zuko said. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” Katara moaned, clenching her thighs. Zuko removed his hands and parted her thighs. He stepped forward, rubbing himself against her ass. He pressed her forward, and Katara walked until her hands her against the bark.

“I would never want to hurt you,” Zuko said, his voice softening, his lips on her neck.

“I want you to,” Katara said.

“Would it… would it please you?” Katara heard the uncertainty in his words, became aware of the care in his voice. She felt her stomach twisting. She didn’t want care. She turned her head until she was looking at him over her shoulder, her face brushing the bark as she went.

“Punish me, Zuko,” Katara said. A wave ran over her skin like ocean water, and she saw the shift in Zuko’s eyes as he noticed her arousal. Do it, she thought.

Zuko dug his hands into her hips and tugged her against him, his erection grinding into her back. Katara grunted, and he reached up, tugging at her hair. Oh, spirits.

“You hurt me, you know? Writhing all over him like that.”

“He felt good,” Katara said, wanting to antagonize him. He cussed into her ear and bit down on the lobe. Katara cried out, and he smothered her sounds with his hand.

“Nod if you’re okay,” Zuko said, and Katara nodded. With his free hand he snuck his hand into the skirt of her long, blue gown and rubbed a single finger up and down her wet slit. “Agni, so wet already,” he said. Katara pushed her hips backward, and Zuko cleared his throat.

“Fuck me, please,” Katara said, and Zuko let go of her and kissed her forehead, once. He stood and looked her over, evaluating her hair, her rumpled skirt. He smirked, and walked away.

Katara stood, shocked.

“We are expected for dessert with Qi and Long this evening,” Zuko shouted over his shoulder.

Katara cussed and pressed her fists into her eyes, trying to quiet her breathing. She walked after him, unbearably aware of the pleasure the shifting of her thighs caused.

***

Katara walked through town beside Zuko, her arm looped with his. She smiled for pictures and waved at a few couples she recognized. It was still relatively early, but Katara felt a chill on her bare arms. I can’t wait for summer, she thought.

“I’ll be right back,” Zuko said, hurrying to a stall with an odd look on his face. Katara caught sight of Ari and was waved over.

“How are you?” Katara asked, and Ari smiled warmly.

“I am doing quite well, and I trust you are doing the same?” her voice was not suggestive, but Katara knew from the glint in Ari’s eyes that she’d been reading the tabloids.

“Quite,” she said nonchalantly, and Ari’s smile widened.

“Oh, there he is,” Ari said, her hand raising. Katara followed her line of sight to see an out-of-breath looking Zuko. He strolled over and smiled at Ari.

“Ah, Ari. Always nice to see you out and about.”

“Well, Ri is making his famous fire whiskey honey. I couldn’t miss out.”

“Yes, we will be joining friends of ours to share in the excitement as well. I trust you have plans?”

“Yes, I am meeting friends,” Ari said, a secret smile on her face. Katara wondered about the man she had seen Ari with last.

“Well come, Katara, we must not keep our friends waiting.” Zuko turned to Ari and bowed, and he placed his hand in Katara’s. As they walked, Zuko tugged her closer and slipped something into her palm. He closed her fingers around a small, metal object and Katara stumbled when a light vibration pulsed through her fingers. Zuko caught her and pulled her behind a stall, its owner busy chatting up customers.

Katara was pulled suddenly into Zuko’s arms, his erection hard against her back and his breath at her ear. He wrapped his arms around her waist. To passersby, it would simply look like he was giving her a hug. His words would appear to be something about the history of the Fire Nation town. His citizens would never guess that he was slowly swiveling his hips into hers, would never see his fingers closing around a miniscule remote, would hardly notice the girl’s bright blue eyes widening as the device in her hand buzzed.

“This isn’t –“

“You’re going to wear it,” Zuko breathed, cutting her off by squeezing her around the waist. Katara gasped. No way in hell. “You wanted punishment.”

“I wanted you,” Katara argued.

“Katara… do you actually not want this?”

Katara bit her lip and stared out at the crowd. She knew it was wrong, and kind of, well, strange, but a part of her wanted this. A part of her wanted him to, well, dominate over her, for him to sit in a room of people and push a button just long enough to bring her to the precipice of orgasm and then pull her back again.

More than anything, though, she wanted the frenzied resolution that would surely come after dinner, and she knew that resolution would be better after an hour of torture.

“Okay,” Katara said, and she felt Zuko’s sharp inhale.

“Okay?”

“Okay. Just… don’t let me embarrass myself, too much,” Katara said. Zuko turned Katara in his arms and kissed her, once, sweetly, on the lips. Katara felt that thing inside of her twist again, that thing that urged her to crawl inside of him and be a part of him, forever.

What have I gotten myself into?

***

Katara sat at a table with Qi, Long, and Zuko, clenched her thighs, and dug her nails into her legs to keep from crying out. It was all she could do to even keep her eyes open, let alone have a conversation. She forced herself to nod politely as Qi and Zuko discussed policy, and was grateful that Long was busy poking at his piece of cake.

Oh spirits. This stupid little vibrator is going to kill me.

Katara knew Zuko could tell. She could tell when he was going to up the speed whenever his mouth twitched. A stupid smirk would form on his stupid face and then her vagina would be clenching down on the miniature vibrator for dear life.

“So, I hear you’ve pushed for the parchment on equal pay?” Qi said, holding her glass of fire whiskey close to her mouth.

“Yes. This parchment in particular has been recommended to me by several experts in the field,” Zuko said. Katara caught his eye, surprised. He actually listened, she mused. For a moment the vibrations lessened, as if he wanted her to hear this.

“Ah, Fire Lord. Certainly going to fire up some of the elders, hm?” Qi smiled, sipping her drink.

Zuko smiled back. “I think its good to keep everything lively. After all, we have the honor of our nation to think about.”

“Precisely, Fire Lord, precisely.”

And the buzzing began again.

Low, it almost caressed her insides like a loving kiss. Zuko chatted up Qi and made up some things about their relationship. He discussed fishing with Long, though he had limited knowledge. His mistakes with the lingo made Katara laugh out loud. Zuko narrowed his eyes, and the buzzing got stronger. She hissed, and Zuko covered it by coughing.

“Everything alright, dear?” Long asked, not convinced by the coughing act.

“Definitely!” Katara squeaked.

“This is Katara’s favorite restaurant,” Zuko supplied. “She always gets a little overly excited when we come.”

Katara cursed Zuko in a million different fashions in her head.

“It is good,” Long said.

“Especially this whiskey!” Qi chuckled. “I don’t blame the girl for being excited.”

“I wouldn’t either,” Zuko said, grinning as he placed a piece of sweet rice into his mouth.

Katara watched him wrap his lips around his chopsticks and suck.

Oh fuck.

Suddenly, she imagined them having sex right in the restaurant, maybe in a coat closet or the bathroom. She imagined the wood walls against her back, his hot hands holding her thighs as she rocked against him. A sudden wave of pleasure burst through Katara, and she shook visibly, her teeth on her bottom lip keeping a sound from escaping. When she looked up, Zuko’s eyes were burning with desire. Unfortunately, two concerned sets of eyes were on her as well.

“Are you sure you’re quite alright?” Long asked.

“Must be that flu, it’s going all around. Some sort of spring thing that catches the non-natives,” Qi said, shaking her head. “You really ought to get her to bed.”

“Well, it’s up to her,” Zuko said. He tilted his head, his eyebrow arched in pseudo-concern. “Do you want to go to bed?” The movement of his tongue on the last word was all it took – she was right there, right next to her orgasm, right within grasp. She felt her face flush.

“Yes, get her out of here, she isn’t looking so well,” Qi said, looking disgusted.

“Feel better, dear,” Long said. Zuko nodded and placed several gold coins on the table before standing and bowing at both of his guests. “It was lovely to see you again. We must plan another meal.”

“Of course, Fire Lord Zuko,” Qi said, bowing her head. “And Katara, please, feel better.” Everyone stared at her, undoubtedly waiting for her to move. Katara gritted her teeth – her thighs, brushing together, the fabric of her dress over her bare skin, it was all too much – and bowed. She all but ran out of the restaurant, and then she collapsed against the wall as a final hit of electricity stole away her self-control. She shoved her fist against her teeth and moaned against it, hoping to quiet the noise as she came, her body arching off of the wall. She was grateful for the noise of the night. Her hips spasmed and her thighs shook, and then she tumbled into strong, warm arms.

“Oh Zuko, oh Zuko, no more, I need you, I need you,” Katara said, her lips against his neck as she spoke, her hands scraping up his back as she ground into him.

“I thought you wanted punishment,” Zuko said, his voice shaky.

“Another day, another day, take me, now,” Katara commanded, desperate but not caring.

“Come around back. It’s late, no one will notice.” Zuko walked beside her, her hand gripping his tightly. Katara had never been so glad to see a waning moon. It was dark, and loud, and empty behind the restaurant except for several crates and a large stack of boxes. Katara kissed Zuko fiercely, her teeth nipping his skin her nails forcing him closer to her. He returned her passion, backing her into the wall. Zuko dropped to his knees and pushed her skirts over his head. Katara felt him pushing his fingers inside of her, felt the tug of the vibrator as it was removed from her. Katara gasped at the sudden feeling of emptiness and then moaned when she felt his tongue on her clit. He flicked it once, twice, three times, and Katara groaned his name in complaint.

“I want you, Zuko, now.” Zuko stood up quickly and pressed his body to hers, kissing her hard. He sucked her tongue into his mouth and Katara felt shivers run up her spine.

She could hear the sound of him undoing his sash and lowering his pants just enough to free his erection. Zuko wrapped Katara’s hand around it and grunted when she began smoothing her thumb over the tip.

“Place me inside of you, Katara,” Zuko said, his golden eyes dark in the moonlight. Katara parted her thighs and Zuko helped her lift her skirt over her hips. Zuko stepped forward and Katara placed him at her entrance. She lowered over him, her legs around his waist. His hands held her legs up, and he pushed her into the wall as he began to grind against her, the base of his erection rubbing her clit as he brushed up and down. Katara could feel herself stretching to accommodate him, and she realized suddenly how much she’d missed the feeling of fullness. Her wetness coated him, and Zuko panted into her throat.

“Agni, I missed you,” Zuko said.

“Don’t disappear on me again, Zuko,” Katara said.

“I won’t – “ Zuko said, “I can’t.”

Katara cried out and clenched her eyes shut. I can’t. We can’t. This can’t happen.

But it is, Katara thought, and then Zuko brought his hips up hard into hers. She felt her breasts begin to bounce as he found a rhythm, and she pulled his face to hers, kissing him softly, her breath washing across his face. Katara ground against Zuko and pretended she wasn’t the happiest person in the world, her legs around the waist of the Fire Lord in the back of a restaurant, surrounded by cardboard boxes and his musky scent.

Zuko removed his mouth from hers and looked into her eyes as they fucked, his golden eyes on her blue ones, and Katara wanted to remember his face like that forever – teeth on his bottom lip, eyebrows scrunched, eyes drunk on pleasure. Katara inhaled sharply as she felt his hands digging in harder against her ass through her skirts. His erection twitched within her, and he moaned her name, too loudly, too thoughtlessly, too desperately, and Katara came, her entire body shuddering. 

[justkeepshippingg]

50 Shades of Honor: Chapter 14

50 Shades of Honor: A Zutara Smutfic

Rated: M

Pairing: Zutara Length: 4,000

AU

Chapter Fourteen: The Grandest Mistake

Katara downed her glass of water and wished the Fire Nation could lay off of the spices.

Zuko paid her no attention, simply continued his polite argument with Lee, a countryman whose refusal to sell his land was preventing the construction of a bending school for girls. Katara smiled politely at Liao, his bored looking wife. The woman sniffed and sipped her Fire Whiskey, her pointy nose in the air.

“Honey, I think I see someone over there. I’m going to go say hi,” Katara said, standing. Her stool scraped loudly and she said, “Excuse me,” a false smile on her lips. She hurried over to where Jet and Toph sat undercover, his camera a bulge beneath his coat. “Shoot me,” Katara said.

“Nah, this is much too interesting,” Toph said. Katara frowned.

“She seems like good fun,” Jet said, gesturing to Liao. Toph laughed and Katara snorted.

“Yeah right. Seems she’s too good to chat with a water peasant.” Katara huffed. “I’d like to shove the list of women I’ve had tea with down her throat.”

“Woah there,” Jet said, placing a comforting hand on Katara’s shoulders. His eyes were warm. “You’ve got this. If you care about him, you’ll have to deal.” Katara remained unsure of whether or not Toph told him about the agreement she’d made with the Fire Lord. Either way, she knew he was right.

“I should go,” Katara said, turning. She paused when she felt Jet’s hand  on her shoulder again. Toph raised her eyebrows.

“There’s something we need to talk about,” Jet said.

“Um, I don’t really have the time right now, Jet,” Katara said, her blue eyes wide. She glanced over to where Zuko sat, and his eyes met hers. His head lowered just a bit and he looked at her like a lion stalking its prey, his golden eyes narrow. He nodded surreptitiously to Jet and turned back to Lee. Katara glanced between Zuko and Jet.

Toph began to laugh.

“We’ll talk later,” Katara said, and tried to shake the feeling that something was going on that she was missing.

***

After dinner, Katara stood off to the side while Zuko said his goodbyes. Liao and Lee bowed to the Fire Lord and Lee bowed politely to Katara, who smiled and grinned back, careful to place her fists properly. Liao turned and left without saying goodbye, and Lee smiled before chasing after her.

“That was great,” Katara said, and Zuko chuckled.

“She’s not the kindest woman around,” Zuko said. He waved his hand in a come hither motion and Jet and Toph approached, Toph with a shit-eating grin on her pale face.

“Oh, this is fantastic,” Toph laughed, socking Jet in the arm. He rubbed his arm and sheepishly looked at Katara.

“Did you tell her?” he asked.

“Not yet,” Zuko responded.

“Probably good to ease her in,” Jet said.

“Agreed.” The men nodded at each other and Katara considered punching them both in their smug faces.

“I’m right here,” Katara said. Jet wrapped an arm around her and started walking them out of the restaurant. Katara looked behind he to see Zuko and Toph waking slowly behind them, their eyes occasionally flicking to her and Jet as if waiting for a reaction.

“I know you and Zuko have been trying some new things,” Jet said bluntly. “So we had a proposition for you.”

Katara stared at Jet blankly.

His smile widened, and Katara felt realization dawning on her. He doesn’t mean…Immediately she was accosted with images of Jet’s brown legs tangling with Zuko’s as he pushed into her from behind while Zuko pulled her against his face. She stopped walking and placed a hand on the pale wood wall of the restaurant. She felt like she couldn’t breathe.

Jet eyed her. She closed her eyes.

She remembered the way Jet’s lips felt on hers. She remembered the way he used to spend what felt like forever playing with her breasts. He loved her breasts. They would spend hours in bed with him kissing them, sucking them, while he played between her legs. Their love making had always been slow, careful.

She remembered the bruises marking her legs after her night with Zuko. She tasted his heated breath on her tongue, his need throbbing against her thigh as she stared hungrily at her.

Katara felt a twitch between her legs.

I want this, she realized.

When her eyes opened, Zuko was standing in front of her. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he said. Katara swallowed.

“I’m going to get home,” Toph said, waving down a taxi. “You all have fun,” she said, able to feel Katara’s heart palpitations beneath her feet.

Katara felt Jet take her hand, and Zuko place a hand on her face. She shivered.

“What will they think?” Katara said, and Jet and Zuko exchanged a glance.

“This is not exactly… rare in the Fire Nation. The royals have a history of, er,” Zuko paused, looking for the right word.

“Many are forced to marry not for love, but for rank, so many people swap partners.” Jet supplied.

“Let’s go, then,” Katara said, and she turned to corner to where their car was waiting. No carriage tonight, Katara noticed. Must not want to draw more attention than necessary. Katara slid into the middle seat, and Zuko and Jet slid in on either side of her. Katara swallowed again, harder this time. She could feel her body reacting to their heat. Zuko flicked his wrist and the driver began the drive across town and to the palace.

Zuko placed his hand on her thigh, and Jet placed a hand on her knee, and Katara clenched her legs together and tried not to explode.

***

Katara was led into the Fire Lord’s bedroom by Zuko’s hand on hers. Jet walked in behind them, chewing on the straw at his lip. He gave a long, low whistle as he looked around the room, taking in the exquisite décor.

“Well Katara, you’ve certainly gone up in the world,” Jet said. Zuko smirked and moved around the room, closing the curtains. For some reason Jet’s cockiness made her angry. She recalled all of the annoying little habits he’d had when they were dating – the way he was so obsessed with wealth, power. She narrowed her eyes.

“Take your clothes off, Jet,” Katara commanded. She heard Zuko pause on the other side of the room. Katara watched as Jet shrugged and began shucking his clothing, his torn jeans falling to his feet. Of course he would go commando. Katara felt nervousness bubbling in her stomach and figured she’d probably feel better if she stayed in control. She hardly glanced at Jet’s naked form before walking over to Zuko. Katara heard Jet pout and ignored him. She stood on tiptoe and kissed the Fire Lord’s neck. “Come here, Zuko,” she said, and he turned toward her. She kissed him full on the mouth, lips open, her tongue caressing his easily. She pulled away and pushed him toward Jet so that the pair stood only a foot apart. Katara stood behind Zuko and wrapped her arms around his waist, her head resting on his shoulder as she stood on tiptoe.

“Katara,” Jet said, his brown eyes meeting hers, unsure.

“Zuko,” Katara said, her voice low, “look at him.” Zuko stopped staring at the ceiling and did as she asked, his golden eyes raking over Jet’s naked body. Katara looked at Jet the way Zuko might be seeing him, trying to view him as if she didn’t know his naked body as well as her own – long, slender limbs, strong legs and lean thighs, an almost concave-stomach, brown skin just a little lighter than her own, a happy trail made of long, straight, dark hairs. His dick was thinner than Zuko’s, but longer. Katara began undoing the buttons on the front of Zuko’s shirt and dragged her nails across his bare skin. His head fell back against her shoulder and she tugged the crown from his hair.

“Let me put this away,” Zuko said, and Katara knew he needed a moment to gather himself. Katara nodded and Zuko walked over to the dresser. Katara approached Jet, just standing there and staring at him. She became aware of the realness of what she was about to do – he was her ex. She was somewhat with the Fire Lord. They were all going to have sex. She glanced at Zuko, who now stood beside her, watching her watching Jet.

“Zuko,” she said.

“Kiss him,” Zuko said, his hand coming to rest lightly against her back. Katara stepped forwad and wrapped her arms around Jet’s neck, and his brown eyes shuddered closed as he breathed her in. Katara felt Zuko begin to undo the ties at the back of her dress as she leaned up toward Jet, removing the straw from his mouth. Jet leaned down and kissed her, his tongue tasting of fire whiskey. Just as she remembered, he kissed her slowly, his lips lazily moving against hers. He palmed her breast and Katara’s head fell back, resting against Zuko’s shoulder as he stepped even closer to her. She felt Zuko’s hands on her hips and kissed Jet harder, her hand coming up to tangle in his shaggy brown hair. Jet hissed in her mouth and Katara felt Zuko’s erection twitch against her back. She ground back against him and began to pant. Zuko squeezed her ass and began to rub himself against it, his erection hot against her skirt. She spread her legs to give him more leeway. Zuko loosened the final tie holding her dress together and then the material was held up only because it was trapped between their bodies. Zuko reached a hand over her shoulder and pushed Jet back somewhat, and Katara felt his mouth leave hers. Zuko stepped back, and both boys watched as Katara’s dress fell to her feet.

Katara had never felt more desired.

Jet raked his eyes up and down her body, a smirk on his lips. He turned to Zuko. “No fair,” Jet said, a mischievous glint in his eye. “You need to lose some clothes, buddy.”

Katara waited for Zuko to argue, and was surprised when he shrugged his shirt off of his shoulders and went for his pants.

“Let me get that,” Jet said, surprising both of them. “We have to get used to touching each other,” Jet murmured into Zuko’s ear. Katara felt herself growing wet as she watched Jet’s hands undoing the buttons on either side of Zuko’s hips, his long brown fingers pushing the buttons through the fabric. She could have sworn she heard Zuko gasp. Jet stepped away and Zuko’s pants slid from his legs. Zuko placed a hand on Jet’s shoulder for balance, and Katara watched Jet’s Adam’s apple bob at the feel of Zuko’s hand as he kicked off his shoes.

“Okay,” Zuko said. “How do we want to do this?” he directed his question to Jet, who grinned.

“We’ve got to prep her first.” He glanced at Katara, his eyes focusing in on her hard nipples pushing against her bindings. “It won’t take long. She gets wet really quickly,” Jet said.

“I know,” Zuko said, his jaw setting. Jet held up his hands.

“Just saying. Are you more of an ass guy?” he asked, and Zuko looked mortified.

“Yes,” Katara said. She met Zuko’s eyes and smiled.

“Okay, perfect.” Jet approached Katara and took her hands. “Just say stop if there’s anything you don’t want,” he said. Katara nodded. She trusted him. “Get on the bed.”

Katara crawled into the center of the bed, feeling the gaze of the boys on her bare skin. She watched as Jet crawled beside her.

“Scoot back,” Jet said, and Katara pushed backward until there was a good amount of room between her feet and the foot of the bed. Jet pushed pillows behind Katara’s back until she was sitting up comfortably. He knelt at her side, and he waved Zuko forward. Zuko crawled up the foot of the bed, his eyes hungry and all on her. He paused at her feet, and then he grabbed her ass and lifted her hips onto his thighs. Her legs hung over his elbows and Katara watched him watching her. Jet got on all fours at her side so that his head hung over her stomach, his hair tickling her right side. Katara smiled, and then Jet took his breast into her mouth. Katara gasped, and Zuko bent his head, his lips coming to meet her labia. Katara moaned as he began leisurely dragging his tongue around her vulva, his nose buried in her pubic hair.  Katara reached down to her side and dragged her nails through Jet’s happy trail, and she turned her head to kiss him. Her hand moved lower and lower, and she began to wrap her hand around Jet’s erection one finger at a time. All at once Zuko buried his face between her thighs and Katara bit down hard on Jet’s bottom lip, her hand coming around his dick in a fist. Jet bucked forward at the suddenness, and Katara began to jack him off. She stopped kissing him so that she could watch his expressions shift as he grew harder.

Still, she was finding it hard to keep her eyes open. Zuko was caressing her labia with his tongue, his nose tickling her clit. Jet began sucking on her neck, his groans and pants rushing over her skin. Katara felt her hips buck forward – the sensations were all too much. Jet removed Katara’s fist from his dick and whispered in her ear, and Katara glanced at Zuko and nodded. She wasn’t certain, but she thought it was worth a shot. Her entire body felt flush as Jet crawled down the bed until he was beside Zuko. Jet placed a hand on Zuko’s shoulder, just as the boy had touched him earlier, and Zuko pulled away from Katara’s thighs. Katara bit her lip to keep moans from coming forward at the sight of her juices dripping from his mouth.

“Yes?” Zuko said,  dark eyebrows raised, and Jet glanced at Katara, a smirk on his lips. Jet lifted his hand and swiped his fingers across Zuko’s bottom lips, gathering Katara’s juices from his mouth. With all eyes on him, Jet put his fingers between his mouth and sucked, the sound loud and very, very inappropriate. Katara felt something stir between her legs and pulled herself up until she was kneeling. She kissed Jet, softly, slightly tasting herself on his lips; she kissed Zuko, lightly,definitely tasting herself on his lips. He kissed her back, tentative, as if asking her a question. She answered him by pressing a closed-mouth kiss to his lips, and then she sat back on her thighs. Zuko eyed Jet cautiously, and Jet tilted his head, shaggy brown hair brushing his shoulder. Zuko swallowed hard and eyed Katara, both asking permission and asking if she would enjoy it – she knew he would only do it if she would enjoy it – and then Katara placed a calming hand on Zuko’s thigh and nodded. Zuko’s golden eyes met Jet’s brown ones, and then Jet put his hand on Katara’s hand, her hand a layer between Jet’s skin and Zuko’s.

“Just sit still,” Jet said, and he leaned forward and captured Zuko’s lips with his.

Holy shit.

Zuko sat frozen beneath Jet’s touch, and the image made Katara feel as if she were close to spontaneous combustion. Jet pulled away and tilted Zuko’s head with his hand, and then he tilted his own head and went in again. This time he hovered above Zuko’s lips, and Zuko closed his eyes and leaned in, lips closed but his expression softened somewhat. Jet kissed Zuko, his lips dominating, and Katara brushed her fingers across Zuko’s erection, Jet’s hand still on hers. This seemed to shock Zuko into alertness.

Zuko won’t let Jet be dominant, Katara thought. He cared about control just as much as she did.

And she was right.

With Katara jacking him off – and Jet’s hand on top of Katara’s – Zuko fisted his hand in Jet’s hair and bit down on his bottom lip, the gesture making Jet groan in pain. Jet pushed forward, just as dominating as Zuko, and tightened his grip on Katara’s fist, his hand slipping off of Katara’s and his fingers brushing Zuko’s cock. Everyone seemed to freeze, waiting for Zuko’s reaction.

Slowly, slowly, slowly Jet moved his fingers. Katara watched as Zuko’s breathing grew heavier, and she leaned forward, edging Jet’s face away from his and kissing him herself. Zuko’s lips were careful against hers, as if any move he might make would cause him to shatter. Katara placed both hands on Zuko’s face, both to comfort him and to alert him that Jet was touching him alone, now. Zuko’s hands shook as they came to rest on top of hers, and he kissed her lovingly, his tongue pressing against hers and making her head swim.

Zuko laid on his back, and Jet sat between his legs, jacking Zuko off and slowly tugging at himself. Katara sat at Zuko’s side and kissed him, her own fingers dragging slowly through her heat. Everything in the room seemed to shift as Zuko became acclimated to Jet’s touch. Then Jet lightly kissed the base of Zuko’s erection and Zuko pulled away, a terrifying look on his face. Katara wrapped her arms around Jet’s waist and pulled him away, and his face was apologetic. Zuko rubbed his fists into his eyes, and Katara could see regret spilling all over him. She crawled away from Jet and sat in Zuko’s lap, putting her arms behind his back and pulling him to her. She didn’t want this to be over, not yet, not so soon.

Katara slid her wetness over Zuko’s erection and kissed him carefully, her lips peppering kisses over his collarbone, his neck, his cheeks. She took his face in her hands and he felt fragile, almost scared. The look in his golden eyes made her nervous – it seemed to say, Why am I here? How did this happen? She knew it wasn’t just about Jet, but was about all of it – about her, too.

And that terrified her.

So she kissed him, hard, and pulled his hair and pulled at his skin and tried everything she could think of to pull him back to her. He began returning her touches, her kisses, his teeth brushing her jaw and his tongue against her skin making her pant. She breathed his name, once, Zuko, and he ground up into her, and she knew he was hers again.

Within seconds she was writhing above him, her wetness leaving him damp but not yet surrounding him. She reached behind her and pushed Jet’s wrist away from his cock, taking it in her fist instead. He grunted loudly, his head falling forward onto her shoulder.

“What do you want, Katara?” Jet said, and Katara knew they had reached this, a finale of sorts. Just the thought…. She shivered.

What do I want? She thought about it. She thought about dominance and possessiveness and tried to figure out where inside of her Zuko would rather be, and where Jet would rather be, where she would rather be.

“Jet, lay down,” Katara said. Jet lay on his back in the center of the bed, his erection up and waiting, a glistening bead of precum making its way down. Katara crawled on top of him so that she was on all fours with her ass in his face. She felt his tongue at her entrance, and she moaned. He pulled his mouth away from her, and she sank onto his dick. She heard Zuko groan and looked to see him watching the place where she and Jet met. Jet was already pulsing inside of her. His hands cupped her hips, and he breathed her name.

“Shit, you still feel so good,” Jet said.

 “Zuko, come here,” Katara said, not moving her hips. She needed to figure out the logistics of this, first. She wanted it to be good, for all of them. Zuko knelt between Jet’s spread legs, and Katara pulled his dick toward her and began to lick it from base to tip. Zuko shuddered, his hands coming up to knead circles into her thighs.  Slowly, she began to grind on top of Jet, and she wrapped her lips fully around his cock. Both men moaned in unison. Katara swiveled her hips over Jets, back and forth, careful not to draw him to his precipice. She bobbed her head around Zuko’s dick until he was as hard as she wanted, and then she cupped his balls. His hand fisted in her hair and she let him draw her head forward and back again, taking him as deep as she could. Katara pulled her mouth away and Zuko took his cock in his hand, watching as she removed herself from Jet’s cock. Then she pushed Zuko on his back and slid on top of him, her hips moving in earnest. Zuko inhaled sharply and looked over Katara’s shoulder, where Jet approached. Katara turned around and nodded.

“Coat yourself in her,” Zuko said, and Katara kissed him, once, a thank you. Jet reached his fingers around Zuko’s cock and Zuko’s hips flexed on instinct. Jet smirked and pulled his hand away, sufficiently wet. Jet wiped his hand on his dick and spread her ass. Katara ground slowly into Zuko, and then she was screeching and burying her head in his shoulder. Jet was fingering her anus, and Katara knew he could feel Zuko inside of her.

“Katara,” Jet said.

“Umfh,” Katara mumbled into Zuko’s shoulder. She felt Zuko’s hoarse chuckle beneath her.

“I think that was a yes,” Zuko said, and Katara nodded. Zuko nodded at Jet, and then Jet was entering her, his length disappearing into Katara’s anus.

“Oh fuck,” Jet said.

“You – you’re,” Zuko responded.

“Yeah,” Jet said.

Zuko pushed upward at the same time that Jet began to fuck her ass, and then Katara was crying out and pinching her nipples, her eyes shut hard so that she could focus on the sensations all around her. She could feel herself clenching around both boys, could feel her swollen clit brushing against Zuko’s cock with each gyration of his hips, could feel her cunt dripping over Zuko’s thighs. Jet’s nails bit into Katara’s ass and a surprised sound left her lips. Both boys began fucking her in earnest, the sounds of moans and skin slapping and grunts filling the room. Katara was sweating, could feel Jet’s kisses against her shoulder, Zuko breathing smoke in the space between her breasts. She could feel it, the building, knew the impending explosion.

“Fuck, fuck,” Jet grunted, and then he was coming. Katara felt him spilling inside of her ass, and she knew Zuko could feel him twitching inside of her. Jet reached between her legs and wrapped his fingers around Zuko’s cock and started roughly rubbing Katara’s clit as he came, spurt after spurt dripping down her ass.

“Mm – oh – oh – oh,” Katara moaned, the sound ripping from her throat as her cunt pulsed and squeezed around Zuko, her thighs shaking and her hips rolling over his, her hipbones grating against his skin. Zuko came hard, his grunt violent, and Katara’s back arched and Jet pinched her clit and pulled out of her and the pain of his removal was what it took to push her to orgasm.

Katara fell back, panting, and she succumbed to the heat and light that surrounded her. She could feel hands all over her body as she twitched, could feel lips and tongues and teeth, and she knew another orgasm was coming. Arms tugged her legs around a neck and then she felt Jet eating her out, eating Zuko out of her, and she heard Zuko’s groan and opened her eyes just enough to see Zuko leaning over Jet’s shoulder, watching, and then she felt lightning and her thighs were clenching and her hips were rolling and she was screaming, tears pouring down her face. She felt completely and utterly taken over by a feeling she couldn’t name. All thoughts dissipated and left room for feeling, emotion, and a deep-seated appreciation for the men who had done this for her.

[justkeepshippingg]

50 Shades of Honor: Chapter 13

50 Shades of Honor: A Zutara Smutfic

Rated: M

Pairing: Zutara Length: 1300. (This is a short one since I decided to split it.)

AU

*Authors note: Accidentally posted this yesterday. Sorry!*

Chapter Thirteen: More

“Oh, Zuko, more,” Katara moaned.

He’d been home for all of an hour and already she was writhing beneath him.

Normally the sound would make Zuko groan with pride and the desire to give her everything she needed, but not tonight. Tonight, he was already giving her everything he had. His dick was still wonderfully hard inside of her, its curved tip brushing her g-spot. His body rested over hers, her legs were locked around his hips, and her hands were clutching his shoulders as if she was trying to crawl inside of him. Her breath was warm against his neck and, to be quite honest, Zuko felt as if he were ready to burst. He pressed his thumb down harder against her clit, but still, she didn’t come. Her orgasm remained locked deep inside of her, something neither of them had access to anymore.

He didn’t understand – she was usually so easy; a flick of his nail over her clit, even a good suck on her nipples could be enough to send her juices spilling over his erection. Now, though, it seemed impossible.

It wasn’t greedy of her - Zuko appreciated her honesty - but it was a huge hit to his pride and hugely frustrating because of how badly he wanted to make her feel good.

“Please,” Katara whimpered, and Zuko swallowed hard.

“Katara?” Zuko said.

“Zuko! Don’t stop,” Katara whined, and Zuko stopped thrusting completely, his hand clutching her jaw and forcing her to look at him. Her eyes opened, and Zuko was fixated on their sad brightness. She was desperate, and it was because of him. That look on her face was enough to make Zuko spring into action. He pulled out of Katara and swallowed her sounds of protest with his lips. He kissed her slowly, deeply, dragging his tongue across hers and grinding his erection into her clit. Katara gasped into the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Zuko reached down, flicking her nipple as his hand maneuvered between their bodies, and grasped his dick. He gave himself one long tug and groaned out loud, his mouth leaving Katara’s. His hand cupped her wetness, his fingers dragging through her core, and Katara watched with interest as he coated himself in it. From base to tip, he lathered himself in her warm wetness, and Katara’s lips parted as her breathing increased.

“Katara?” Zuko said, his voice a low rasp.

“Yes?”

“Roll over onto your stomach.”

“Okay, Zuko,” Katara said, her legs detangling from his as she rolled over onto her stomach. The curve of her ass made Zuko swallow, and then he was parting her legs and kneeling between them.

“What are you doing?” Katara said, her words unsure. Zuko flushed and placed his hands on the backs of her thighs, massaging lightly. Katara purred, and Zuko began to explain.

“It is an ancient custom in my culture for couples to experiment with their sexual activities,” Zuko said. “We have sex as you and I have, and in varied ways, as we sometimes enjoy. Cunningulus, in particular, seems to be a favorite of yours.”  Katara laughed, her cheeks going red. Zuko tightened his hands on the backs of her thighs, and Katara ground down into the sheets. “Lift your hips,” Zuko said, and Katara did as he asked. He shoved a pillow beneath her.

“Thanks,” Katara said, her head turning back so that she could meet his eyes.

“You’re welcome, Katara. Do you trust me?” 

“Yes,” Katara said.

“I want to try entering you in your ass,” Zuko said. He popped his finger into his mouth and sucked, and then returned his hands to her ass. His wet finger dragged through her wetness, and Katara pushed her ass up and outward. Zuko exhaled sharply and gripped her ass more tightly. Ever so slowly as not to surprise her, Zuko circled Katara’s anus with his wet finger.

“Mmm,” Katara purred, and Zuko pressed forward, his erection throbbing beside her thigh. Hesitantly his finger pressed into her anus, and Katara gasped. “Oh!” Katara said, burying her face in the sheets.

“Is this okay?” Zuko asked, pausing his movements.

“Z-Zuko,” Katara said, “keep going.” Her words were muffled by the sheets, and Zuko massaged her ass with one hand while the other pushed inside completely. “Oh, spirits,” Katara groaned.

Zuko felt like he was going to come.

She was so, so, so tight.

“More, I can handle more,” Katara said, her head leaving the sheet to turn and look over her shoulder at him. With her eyes locked on his, Katara’s expression turned into one of desperate desire as he pressed a second finger into her anus, carefully moving them in a slow circular motion. Katara began grinding down against his fingers. Zuko could feel her muscles clenching around his fingers, and he bit down on his lip. He removed his fingers and coated himself in her wetness one last time before parting her cheeks and placing himself at her anus.

“This is probably going to be uncomfortable at first,” Zuko said, surrounding her entrance with her wetness.

“I’ll tell you if it’s too bad,” Katara said, and then Zuko was pushing into her. A gasp tore from her throat a as a moan escaped his. Ohfuckfuckohagni, Zuko thought. He was not going to last long.

“Are you okay?” Zuko asked, his voice hardly audible.

“Mmm,” Katara whimpered, her hands clutching the sheets. Zuko thrust into her fully, and then he bowing his body over hers. His lips peppered kisses down her spine. Katara moved her hips back, grinding into him, and Zuko took it as the okay to move. He pulled out just a little and pushed back in, and it was like a fist clutching his erection. He could feel himself on the precipice of orgasm. He had to get her there first. He reached around to her front and pushed two fingers inside of her, and Katara screeched into the sheet.

“Oh, Zuko,” Katara said, her back arching. “S-so full,” Katara ground her teeth as she tried to push both back and forward at the same time. She could feel her limbs beginning to shake, could feel herself being coated in the strange white heat that came with orgasm. She could feel him curling his fingers at the same time as he thrust into her, and she imagined that Zuko could feel himself from the inside, and Katara felt his teeth clamp down on her shoulder and could hear the sound of his breathing, harsh and full of expletives as he forced himself to hold back, and Katara could smell nothing but the smell of their sex, and then he pressed his thumb into her clit and pinched her nipple with his free hand and she was done for.

Zuko pulled out, coming harder than he could remember ever before.

“Oh spirits,” Katara said, her entire body going limp. Zuko removed his fingers and his erection from her and rolled onto his back, shocked.

When she could finally breathe again, Katara pushed back her tangled curls and smiled at the ceiling.

“What are you so happy about?” Zuko asked, his breathing still uneven. He rolled onto his stomach and rested his head on her thigh, still twitching with aftershocks.

“Just pleased with your cultural practices,” Katara said, and Zuko cupped her sex. “Z-Zuko,” Katara breathed a laugh. “there is no way you’re ready for round two already,” Katara said.

“Oh,” Zuko said, a smirk on his lips as he dragged a finger through the wetness between her thighs, “butyou are.” Zuko shot a measured amount of electricity into Katara’s clit and held it steady until she was falling apart in his arms a second and then a third time. 

Best welcome home present ever, Zuko thought, nuzzling Katara’s exhausted body.