Twitch streamer!gf (you) dating pro-hero sero, and during one of your live streams your fans SWEAR they saw a glimpse of shirtless, pro-hero cellophane walking in the background of your podcast-like stream.
You decide to tease both your fans and your bf by saying “i dunno who cellophane is guys, wth???”
“Yes, I have a boyfriend, and I’m honored you guys think he’s hot enough to be a pro hero” to which sero scoffs and walks into frame saying “yes, I’m dating this beautiful woman, and YES, it’s me pro-hero cellophane. We wanted to keep things quiet but, oh well.”
The chat starts speeding up in record time, question upon question flying across your screen. A mischievous smile spreads across your face as you pull him in for a quick peck on the lips.
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“stop watching that shit,” bf!katsuki groans, letting his head fall back against the couch. “you’ve seen it at least twelve times.”
“katsuki, i’m watching it for research purposes.”
“research, my ass. you’re staring at my chest the whole time.” he points at the screen. “i see how your eyes drift, you pervert.”
you gasp, placing a dramatic hand over your chest.
“excuse you!? i take this ad very seriously, just so you know.”
a smile threatens to break across your face, but you fight it.
“oh yeah?” he asks, a smirk tugging at his lips as well. “what’s the ad about then?”
you immediately freeze.
“ugh— it’s about…” your eyes dart to the screen. “uh…”
nothing. your brain comes up completely blank.
a second passes. then an idea hits.
“you don’t know your own ad, katsuki?” you fire back. “that’s so unprofessional.”
his smirk vanishes.
“hah?” he lifts his head, staring at you in disbelief. “what kind of comeback is that?”
“it’s a valid question.”
“no, it’s not!”
“it is.”
“you’re full of shit.”
a laugh slips out before you can stop it.
“sounds like someone doesn’t know his own ad.”
his eye twitches.
“don’t turn this against me.” he points at you accusingly. “give me that phone.”
“nope.”
“give it.”
“make me.”
the second the words leave your mouth, you regret them. his grin is immediate.
“oh, now you’ve done it.”
“katsuki—”
he lunges across the couch.
“no— katsuki!!”
you squeal, nearly dropping your phone as you scramble away. he grabs for it while you twist out of reach, both of you laughing and shoving each other around the cushions.
“hand it over!”
“never!”
“you watched it twelve times!”
“research purposes!”
“liar!” he barks, already trying to pry the phone from your hands while you laugh again.
a/n: nobody is watching that damn ad for the product he's selling. tags: @tokkushin @kamislop
this is 1,053 words of pure fluffy nonsense but i was in a funk and didn't want to be in it anymore.
Two things you and Aang have in common are that you can both be so very petty and so very prideful sometimes. One such instance is after a silly bickering match and neither of you is willing to give in first. It's become a fun little game and not like pranks, something like, you'll be outside getting fresh air and then here Aang comes to disrupt your peace.
You're leaning against the juniper tree, blanket spread out under you as you soak up the little sun, there's a book in one hand and a smoothie in the other. You're so caught up in your nice little bubble that you don't even notice him until it's too late. The rattling of garden tools makes you look up, but it's Aang himself who almost has you spilling the cold smoothie down the front of your dress.
He's shirtless and pushing a wheelbarrow of tools and several sacks towards the tiny garden you started a few months ago. All the corded muscles on display and the sun shining down on his peaches-and-cream skin is enough to make you throw in the towel on a good day, today is not that day, you will remain strong. But you just have to ask,
"Aang, there's no way you could be sweating already and you just came out here," You smirk at him. "Did you by any chance purposely work out inside before coming out here?"
He startles, movements halting in place like a spooked feline. "What? nooo." His voice cracks with the lie and you shake your head fondly before going back to your book, a small smile on your face as you pick up the fountain pen to start annotating in the margins.
"Sure, honey." The amusement is palpable in your voice and Aang almost pats himself on the back for the fact that he made you smile. He starts his task of lifting a sack of fertilizer out of the barrow and over his shoulder, and the way his biceps strain with the effort, along with the grunt that escapes him, makes your eyes squint because he does not need to be doing all that for a sack that weighs less than you do. He then smacks the bag with a heavy hand before dropping it to the ground and if you let out a small squeak, that's between you and pages six and seven of your book.
"Do you mind?" You snip haughtily, book covering up your mouth so he doesn't see the tiny grin curving the corner of your lips.
He does, but he ignores it because of the ever-present flutter in his chest when you give him any amount of your attention. "Do you mind?"
Your eyes roll so far back in your head, it's a surprise it didn’t get suck. "So sorry, sir. Didn’t mean to break your concentration. And put some gloves on or you'll get woodchips under your nails again."
Aang snickers before dropping to his knees and reaching for the pair of gloves resting on the lip of the wheelbarrow. "Thanks," He says under his breath and he positions the bag right side up and directly in your line of sight before he takes one hand and completely rips the tab off.
"Aang," You sigh deeply. "The tab on that bag was resealable, you only needed to rip the top strip."
Aang flushes, a sheepish look on his face. "Sorry, guess I don't know my own strength."
"You're insufferable." You give him a blank look. "And you're distracting me."
"Distracted enough to make you say 'sorry'."
"In your dreams, loser."
It gets quiet a bit after that, both of you so lost in your respective work that it would just throw off the equilibrium should either of you stop. But, by midday, the sun is scorching now and the little shade of the juniper tree is currently fighting for its life to keep you cool.
You had just taken another sip of your half-finished smoothie when Aang opened his mouth yet again. "Man, it's so hot out here," Aang drawls dramatically and you look just in time to see him twist the cap off a water bottle before dumping the liquid on his head and shoulders and letting it run down his pecs. "I sure wish I had a smoothie." He looks your way as he says this and you keep eye contact as you slurp the last of it down in one go.
He straight up pouts as he watches you drain the glass and you can't resist reaching for your thermos to pour some more into the glass for him. "Get over here, bug eyes."
Aang's smile returns, big and bright and rivaling the blazing sun as he springs to his feet, before coming over to where you are. He immediately slides in next to you on the knitted blanket, lifting your outstretched legs and placing them on top of his. He takes the offered smoothie with a kiss to your cheek as thanks before leaning forward to let you dry off the water all over him. He picks up the book you've been reading, frowning as he takes in the cover.
"You've been reading 'Dr. Stone' without me?"
You avoid his wounded look, readjusting so you can reach for the sunscreen and begin applying it to his already reddened skin, paying extra attention to his shoulders and pecs. "Well, you made me mad."
"By being right?" He huffs but still leans into your touch as you rub the cream on his cheeks.
"You're not right!" You exclaim, pinching him hard. "Just because you didn't hear it doesn't mean it didn't make a sound."
"Repeat that sentence, slowly."
"Hey, I will drag you by your ears, baldness be damned."
"I'm sorry for my tone." He sounds incredibly sincere as he soldiers on. "But, my love, if I'm standing on a hill and see a tree falling in a forest, it didn't make a sound because I didn’t hear it."
Your hands wrap around his neck in a choking mime and his eyes lid. "Please?"
"Have I mentioned that you're insufferable?"
Your lover lunges for you, playfully pinning you to the blanket and peppering kisses on your face, relishing in the sounds of your giggles.
Aang won't tell you this but he thinks that kissing you is as instinctual as breathing. When dawn breaks, the sun climbing past the mountain peaks, the first thing he does when he wakes up is roll over to kiss you. He'll tug you back into his chest if you had shifted through the night, his strong arm wrapping around you like a band effectively trapping your sleep-warm body as close to his as humanly possible. Each morning, without fail, starts with a sweet trail of kisses, beginning at your temple, moving down to your cheek, and skimming along your jawline just before he reaches your neck. His face slots into the junction of it like a puzzle piece, his breath warm and lips tender as he mumbles a drowsy "Good morning."
After his morning meditation under the juniper tree, his smile is sunbeam bright when he meets you at the back doorstep. Slender fingers wrap around the steaming mug of tea you hold out to him, he sighs happily because it's always made just the way he likes, semi-sweet and very fragrant. His free hand curls into the fabric of your lounge tunic, palm like a brand on your hip as he kisses your forehead in thanks.
On the days when there just isn't enough time for him to make breakfast with you, the minute you set his plate down in front of him, he's catching your hand and holding it by the wrist to kiss from the heel of your palm to the tips of your fingers. Aang always holds your gaze when he thanks you for feeding him, needing you to see how grateful he is.
For the days he can afford to linger a little longer, he'll stand behind you, arms at home around your torso and lips pressed to the nape of your neck. Of course, he has to adjust his stance or bend his head to reach, but he doesn't mind, not even when you tell him he'll end up looking like a cooked shrimp if he isn't careful. Sometimes there are playful kisses, the ones he'll demand to give you in exchange for your towel he purposely snatched while you were showering. You let him, always, and once he's had his fill for the moment, he'd grab the towel from you and wrap you in it himself, eyes blazing with a heat hotter than the water you just bathed in. He'll kiss your neck, wet little pecks that stop at your breasts before he lets you go so that you can get ready for the day.
If you're going in the same direction, walking hand in hand, every so often he'll kiss the back of your hand. If you just so happen to be speaking at the time, it disrupts your train of thought. He does do it on purpose, and grins like a pleased puss whenever you hide your flustered face in his bicep. If you're going your separate ways, a 'goodbye' kiss is mandatory and it'll throw off his whole day if he doesn't get one. There was one particular afternoon he rushed out so quickly you were convinced spirits were nipping at the tail end of his glider as he only managed a rushed-out 'love you forever' before he was jetting off into the sky. You were left standing there, arms outstretched, eyes closed and ready for his usual kiss, it never came.
You decide not to think too much about it, lest you start dwelling on the fact that this could be where the inconsistency would start. Yes, you're spoiled to the core when it comes to his clockwork kisses and you have no shame in that whatsoever. Still, the overthinking has made you rather petulant about your kiss or lack thereof, causing you to nearly crush the newly signed scroll while wrapping it back up. Then, the breeze picked up and quick as a blink, a blur of saffron shot through the open window.
Of course, he came back.
"Aang, what-"
"I forgot somethin'." Is all he says before he leans his glider against the wall, then you're being pulled forward and dipped into a sweeping kiss, so long and lingering as if he were trying to take your very breath away.
Your arms wrap around his neck and he sighs into your mouth before pulling away and righting you. Dazed is how he leaves you as he grabs his glider and disappears the way he came, the 'love you forever' sounding like a wind chime as he goes.
Slow languid kisses in the late evening are sacred; after your council meetings end, and if his lectures with the Acolytes don't carry into the late night. The lucky days like these find you perched in his lap, your hands gripping his biceps or around his neck—wherever they can find purchase as his tongue splits the seam of your lips to chase yours, mapping the cavern of your mouth and licking the taste of apple cake out of it.
He'll scoop you up then, taking you to your shared bed, laying you back against the pillows before crawling between your thighs and peppering biting kisses up the apex. When you're fed up with the teasing, he'll apologize with slick and sticky kisses up your wet slit, asking for your forgiveness in between kitten licks to your throbbing clit.
You'll plead for the weight of him against you and he'll work his way back up, kissing the expanse of your body til he's back to your lips. Big hands squeeze your cheeks as he buries himself in your tight heat, heavy cock kissing your spongy sweet spot while you eagerly kiss the taste of your arousal out of his mouth, not stopping until he's whining, claiming he needs air. The absolute weak man that he is doesn't let you go far, he'll kiss the slivers of skin that he thought he missed while you bask in the warm haze of afterglow.
Goodnight kisses are merely a sleepy but no less meaningful chaste little thing to any part of you he can reach in his drowsy state. He'd be half-awake as he tucks you against his side muttering incoherently about one spot he never got to reach.
Having free rein of your best friend's home and then combining that with a touch of insomnia is exactly what has Aang currently strolling through the long, winding halls of the Fire Nation stronghold. Zuko had left him ages ago—but only after Aang insisted that he should go and spend the night with you, as the two of them had just returned earlier in the day from a month-long incursion. The palace is mostly quiet given the late hour; the numbers of the Royal Procession have dwindled for the day, and the ones still on duty don't bat an eye at Aang as he wanders through the halls.
'Free rein means opening any and every door that doesn't look like private quarters.' Zuko had said earlier, so it was entirely an accident when Aang noticed he had ended up inside the private library. He only really wanted to get a better look at the portrait hanging on the wall, that's the only reason he opened the already ajar door wider and stepped past the threshold and into the dimly lit space. The Fire Lord and Fire Lady, his very dear friends are the subject of the royal portrait sitting high on the wall, both donned in the nation's colors and looking every bit as regal as their titles entail. You're both standing, him looking down at you and you up at him, and he's pressing a kiss to the back of your hand that's held up to his face. The painting managed to capture the soft expressions that you're always seen openly giving each other.
The unconscious smile that had formed on Aang's face is wiped clean as a muffled sound slices through the air. His eyes drop to the low seat that's placed against the wall right under the portrait and the irritating insomnia and contemplative curiosity give way to lust. Aang doesn't leave immediately after. No, he hides behind one of the many bookcases, ensuring he's out of sight as his heart thumps a beat akin to the flap of hummingbird wings.
Chancing another look, he sees you spread out in Zuko's lap, robe open with your nightgown bunched up to your neckline. Aang's cock gives a traitorous stir as it begins to swell and stiffen in his trousers when he sees that you're stuffed full and bouncing in your husband's lap. There's a strong hand covering your mouth and another guiding your movements up and down the girthy length leaving an imprint that bulges slightly through the skin of your tummy.
Wisps of steam billow from Aang's mouth and he has to bat them away and fold his lips so they don't float to the ceiling and give away his position. Another peek through the rows of the shelf and it could be a trick of the lamplight, but he swears amber eyes meet his for a fleeting second before Zuko's head turns so he can whisper something in your ear. He should leave. But the Fire Lord's breathy whimper baits him like a siren call, keeps him rooted to that one spot as he brushes a hand down the front of his sleep pants. Aang tries in vain to will his erection away with a hard squeeze, as he wonders what you could have done to have Zuko make such a sound. Or if just the simple act of being snug between your slick walls was enough to make him sound so wrecked.
Your ample tits bounce in time to Zuko's thrusts, the last nail in Aang's proverbial coffin as he unlaces his trousers, freeing himself with a near frantic need. The cool air hits him as a blast that nearly makes him sob as he grips the base of his shaft. The shame he feels seems to curdle like milk through him as he dribbles saliva along the velvety, veiny length of him.
He'll consider it punishment the way he's fisting himself so meanly, the strokes long and tight as he tries to match it to the rhythm of skin cracking against skin just out of reach.
"Gods, I missed you." Zuko groans and Aang's back bows, free hand pressing to the shelf for balance as his greedy gaze swallows up the sight of you two kissing. He's so into it, so he's completely unaware that his heated palm has left a perfect handprint in the wood, burnt on evidence of his time spent in a place he shouldn't have been in.
There's shifting, the couch creaks next and Aang's craning his neck over the cases to see that you're on your knees now, slot between Zuko's legs as you suck the taste of yourself off of him. From his hideaway, Aang can hear you working your husband to completion, every flick of your tongue, each gag as you swallow down another inch, the suction of your cheeks and intake of breath as your head is forced closer to his groin.
Zuko's robe is gone with his bare chest heaving, and his other hand fisted in his long, dishevelled hair as he thrusts into your mouth like a man who's definitely missed you and trying to leave his mark. This is when Aang stops trying to keep pace and sets his own, he jerks faster as it pulses like it's got a mind of its own, precum spurting a steady stream that he uses to lube the aching glide from root to tip.
Aang barely has time to smother the moan as his stomach lurches and the sudden orgasm collapses his chest like he's been struck with a battering ram. Now he's scrambling and finds a dusty tome to release his spend into. It snaps shut with a sloppy snick and is hastily put back on the shelf as he tucks himself back into the confines of his trousers.
One last look before he leaves finds you two still unaware, still wrapped up in each other and none the wiser about what he's just done. He finally leaves, light on his feet, fabric of his clothes merely a whisper on the wind.
"Does he think he was being discreet?"
notes: this idea been in the drafts for a minute with three total reworks. enjoy!!
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@luvqi and I were talking about how hot today was and the question was asked if we could realistically live at that hot ass palace.
"you want me to make what?" sokka looks confusedly at the crude drawings zuko had scribbled on a piece of scrap scroll.
"an air cooling system, i need something to keep my wife cool, it's nearing summer and the heat is getting to her."
sokka nods solemnly. "headaches?"
zuko frowns as he nods. before he left, you'd been complaining of headaches that spanned to the nape of your neck as the heat prickled your skin uncomfortably.
"suki has them too." his eyes roam the drawings, already drawing up plans in his head. "i got ya buddy, i'll get something ready for the missus, gotta make sure sokka jr is okay."
"we are not naming our son sokka jr." zuko scoffs, but his eyes soften in gratitude.
"but it's catchy right?"
"imagine having to say to her, 'honey, sokka needs a nappy change'." the fire lord shudders, making sokka cackle.
When the healers, your doula and the midwives were talking to you about cravings, you thought they were referring to the crazy food combinations along with the temptation to try food you didn't like before. So, imagine your complete surprise when, one day, you wake up and no longer want peanut butter and noodles, but to pounce on your husband like a polar leopard.
You'd been dozing in your shared bed, but the summer heat has been so unforgiving that you just couldn't stay asleep anymore, and the sweat-damp sheets sticking uncomfortably to your bare legs made it no better. With a hand cradling your tummy, you gingerly get out of bed, completely foregoing your shoes as you decide to look for Aang to see if he'd like a plum lemonade smoothie to help beat the heat. It didn't take long to find him as you just needed to follow the knocking sounds coming from the backyard.
You stop right at the back door, which gives you a full view of him working on building a swing bench under the juniper tree. He looks completely focused, with a determined furrow in his brow as he hammers a nail into the wood, before pulling on the chain to test the sturdiness. Your heart flutters in adoration because you only mentioned wanting a swing bench only once, thinking it'd be nice to have one, especially for feedings and relaxing in the shade on the days when the heat of the house will eventually get too stifling.
He's shirtless and dripping with sweat, with a couple of nails held between his teeth, those drool-worthy muscles flexing as he continues to hammer away at something you're not even paying attention to anymore. When he turns his back to you, the red scratches you left behind ripple against his skin like waves on a shore. The next fluttering you feel is definitely not your heart. A warmth pools so low in your tummy, it makes your toes curl. At this point, you're not even being subtle with your staring anymore—not like you were really trying to be in the first place—you're absolutely eye fucking him, a slow heated drag from head to toe, making the ache between your legs almost unbearable. Your folds are sticky with your slick which is threatening to soak through the seat of your panties because of how wet you are.
Your man knows you're standing there, he's attuned to your every breath, every change in the air whenever you move throughout your quaint and cozy little home. Which means you know you can just go out there right now and step into his space and he'd welcome you as is, but you do decide to bring him the smoothie for all his hard work.
The second you step past the threshold and onto the grass, he's looking up from his task, then rising to his feet and walking to meet you halfway on the square stone path.
"Hey, you." He presses a kiss to your temple, before bowing to kiss your tummy. "That for me?" He gestures to the drink in your hand and you merely nod, suddenly too flustered to speak now that he's so close.
You hold it out to him, and get one of those devastatingly sweet smiles in return. But when he reaches for it, you pull it further from him.
"Kiss me first." You command and of course, he obliges you. What starts off as a chaste kiss, gets deeper, as your tongue wastes no time in tracing the seam of his lips and slipping into his mouth. You let out a relieved sigh and that's when he takes the glass from you to rest on a wooden plank. Your now free hands loop around his neck, pulling him down as he starts squeezing your hips to press you closer, as much as your belly will allow. Your tits are squished against his defined chest to the point he feels how hard your hard nipples are through your dress.
The minute your lips start kissing a scorching path down the column of his throat, sucking marks that make his cock stir and breath hitch, he asks "What's gotten into you?"
"Not you unfortunately, so unless you want me to ride you out here, let's go inside. Right now."
Slipping your hand in his, he follows you inside, shutting the back door behind him as your hands work at unfastening his trousers. The thick length of him is hard and warm in your hand and he eagerly sucks on your fingers and licks at your palm to make the glide on his cock slicker. He's already rutting into your fist, lips finding yours again as one of those big hands curls at the nape of your neck. He wasn't really paying much attention to anything else around him, except when he noticed that you were leading him to the attached double futon in the living room.
"Absolutely not, it's the bedroom or nothing, I need you safe." He leaves no room for argument as it's his turn to lead you toward the bedroom.
He asks how you want him as he sits on the edge of the bed, weight resting on his palms, and your only answer is you immediately straddling him, your dripping cunt hovering over his throbbing cock as his hands fly up to grip your hips.
"H-hey wait, don't you need me to—"
The question dies on his tongue when you sink down, your dripping heat enveloping him as your teeth clamp down on his shoulder.
"Mhm mhm n-no."
He groans into the crook of your neck, hands wrapping around you to support your back as he thrusts his hips up. He grinds you down on him, so so slowly until your ass meets his thighs, and his fat tip presses insistently against your spongy sweet spot.
"Gotta be careful, sweetie." He pants against your lips, stealing a kiss as he starts a maddening rhythm that makes your thighs twitch and your swollen clit pulse. "Can't move you around too much okay? So don't do anything, just sit where you belong and take me."
i need him to breed me within an inch of my life so i can stay constantly pregnant like high school english teachers.
bare with me as i try to remember how to write smut y'all.
"Hey, Aang, will you teach me your fighting style? Got some things I wanna improve on." You look at him, eyes glinting with wonder, mischief and something else he can't quite place.
"Isn't she the leader of Zuko's royal strike team, why wou-OW!" Sokka, who's standing behind you is cut off by you stepping on his foot, your heel grinding into his toes.
"Don't ruin this for her, or I'll never hear the end of it." Toph then grabs his ear, yanking it to lead him away as he wails in pain.
"I'd love to, but are you sure you don't wanna learn from Zuko? He was one of my teachers." Aang grins down at you, a lopsided but still charming smile on his face.
"Zuko can't teach me what I want to learn." You lean into his side, chest pressed against his arm, your implications quite clear.
"You're really hammin' it up, aren't you?" Katara murmurs as she walks past drying her hair.
"Don't you people have somewhere else to be?" You grunt playfully, and Aang chuckles, absolutely eating up your attention. Of course, he knows you can fight already, has seen it firsthand, but who is he to turn you down when you're so determined?
ᯓᯓᯓ
"You're slipping." He scolds lightly, only to grin when your hands immediately tighten around the low-hanging branch, pulling yourself up and angling your hips higher.
"Good job." He praises. "Strength and balance are crucial to a good fight." He presses his face into the crook of your neck, warming your skin with hot puffs of air while your legs squeeze his hips so tightly you think they might snap. Your arms burn with the effort of holding yourself up as he continues to ram his cock inside you with such force that the leaves tremble, some even falling around you like a comical version of confetti.
"Come on, you can keep up, right?" He teases between groans as he feels your thighs quiver, arms wobbling from the strain. "Don't tell me you've only got one round in you? And here I thought the all-powerful strike team commander could take even more of me."
As he asks this, your mixed arousal gushes in thick spurts, creaming frothy rings at the base of Aang's dick, with some dripping onto the lush grass beneath your feet. The rough bark digs into your palm as you fight to keep your legs around him. You can feel your focus waning, entirely too distracted by the way his flared cockhead strikes your G-spot like a stick of dynamite to a broken reservoir. He feels the moment your arms give out and he tightens his hold on you before pinning you against the ground, his palm at the back of your head to cushion the impact.
"Different tactic then, let's see how long you can keep your legs open."
Having free rein of your best friend's home and then combining that with a touch of insomnia is exactly what has Aang currently strolling through the long, winding halls of the Fire Nation stronghold. Zuko had left him ages ago—but only after Aang insisted that he should go and spend the night with you, as the two of them had just returned earlier in the day from a month-long incursion. The palace is mostly quiet given the late hour; the numbers of the Royal Procession have dwindled for the day, and the ones still on duty don't bat an eye at Aang as he wanders through the halls.
'Free rein means opening any and every door that doesn't look like private quarters.' Zuko had said earlier, so it was entirely an accident when Aang noticed he had ended up inside the private library. He only really wanted to get a better look at the portrait hanging on the wall, that's the only reason he opened the already ajar door wider and stepped past the threshold and into the dimly lit space. The Fire Lord and Fire Lady, his very dear friends are the subject of the royal portrait sitting high on the wall, both donned in the nation's colors and looking every bit as regal as their titles entail. You're both standing, him looking down at you and you up at him, and he's pressing a kiss to the back of your hand that's held up to his face. The painting managed to capture the soft expressions that you're always seen openly giving each other.
The unconscious smile that had formed on Aang's face is wiped clean as a muffled sound slices through the air. His eyes drop to the low seat that's placed against the wall right under the portrait and the irritating insomnia and contemplative curiosity give way to lust. Aang doesn't leave immediately after. No, he hides behind one of the many bookcases, ensuring he's out of sight as his heart thumps a beat akin to the flap of hummingbird wings.
Chancing another look, he sees you spread out in Zuko's lap, robe open with your nightgown bunched up to your neckline. Aang's cock gives a traitorous stir as it begins to swell and stiffen in his trousers when he sees that you're stuffed full and bouncing in your husband's lap. There's a strong hand covering your mouth and another guiding your movements up and down the girthy length leaving an imprint that bulges slightly through the skin of your tummy.
Wisps of steam billow from Aang's mouth and he has to bat them away and fold his lips so they don't float to the ceiling and give away his position. Another peek through the rows of the shelf and it could be a trick of the lamplight, but he swears amber eyes meet his for a fleeting second before Zuko's head turns so he can whisper something in your ear. He should leave. But the Fire Lord's breathy whimper baits him like a siren call, keeps him rooted to that one spot as he brushes a hand down the front of his sleep pants. Aang tries in vain to will his erection away with a hard squeeze, as he wonders what you could have done to have Zuko make such a sound. Or if just the simple act of being snug between your slick walls was enough to make him sound so wrecked.
Your ample tits bounce in time to Zuko's thrusts, the last nail in Aang's proverbial coffin as he unlaces his trousers, freeing himself with a near frantic need. The cool air hits him as a blast that nearly makes him sob as he grips the base of his shaft. The shame he feels seems to curdle like milk through him as he dribbles saliva along the velvety, veiny length of him.
He'll consider it punishment the way he's fisting himself so meanly, the strokes long and tight as he tries to match it to the rhythm of skin cracking against skin just out of reach.
"Gods, I missed you." Zuko groans and Aang's back bows, free hand pressing to the shelf for balance as his greedy gaze swallows up the sight of you two kissing. He's so into it, so he's completely unaware that his heated palm has left a perfect handprint in the wood, burnt on evidence of his time spent in a place he shouldn't have been in.
There's shifting, the couch creaks next and Aang's craning his neck over the cases to see that you're on your knees now, slot between Zuko's legs as you suck the taste of yourself off of him. From his hideaway, Aang can hear you working your husband to completion, every flick of your tongue, each gag as you swallow down another inch, the suction of your cheeks and intake of breath as your head is forced closer to his groin.
Zuko's robe is gone with his bare chest heaving, and his other hand fisted in his long, dishevelled hair as he thrusts into your mouth like a man who's definitely missed you and trying to leave his mark. This is when Aang stops trying to keep pace and sets his own, he jerks faster as it pulses like it's got a mind of its own, precum spurting a steady stream that he uses to lube the aching glide from root to tip.
Aang barely has time to smother the moan as his stomach lurches and the sudden orgasm collapses his chest like he's been struck with a battering ram. Now he's scrambling and finds a dusty tome to release his spend into. It snaps shut with a sloppy snick and is hastily put back on the shelf as he tucks himself back into the confines of his trousers.
One last look before he leaves finds you two still unaware, still wrapped up in each other and none the wiser about what he's just done. He finally leaves, light on his feet, fabric of his clothes merely a whisper on the wind.
"Does he think he was being discreet?"
notes: this idea been in the drafts for a minute with three total reworks. enjoy!!
aang, in the beginning, would struggle with his new height and bulk because he was once short and scrawny. so i can see him whacking his head against low door frames because he forgets he now has to bend a little. him realising that he can no longer fit into certain spaces because his shoulders are too wide.
one time aang sends sokka flying because he wanted to friendly pat him on the back but used a little too much force. katara, toph, and zuko have to remind him to adjust his bending to his newfound strength or else he'll end up blasting them away while sparring.
but it really sinks in for him when he's able to manhandle you so easily. when aang was younger, shifting and carrying you was always a bit of a struggle without airbending. now he can pick you up without a second thought, throw you over his shoulder and just...toss you around a bit.
the first time that happens, when he picks you up, you don't talk to him for the rest of the day. aang is puzzled and upset, pouting because you won't talk to him and he hates when he makes you mad.
"you picked her up without breaking a sweat," sokka suddenly says, tired of seeing aang make sad eyes at you. "think about it, dude."
aang blinks. "wait so she's mad because i picked her up? sokka, i already knew that—"
sokka shakes his head. "noooo, think it through. how did she react when you did it?"
aang thinks about it, remembers how you yelped and squirmed against him. how you suddenly refused to look at him, flustered and stuttering as you yelled to be put down.
he thinks deeply, thinks and thinks until it clicks.
"oh." he murmurs, the tips of his ears turning pink.
sokka smirks. "yeeeeep."
when aang looks at you again, he catches the end of the quick glance you give him and his heart skips a beat or three.
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"So the Air Acolytes really like you," Aang tells you in the kitchen after he arrives home for the day. "A bunch of them asked me why you didn't accompany me for lectures today."
"Aw, really?" You asks, heart warmed. "I would have but Katara needed my help with something." You're busy cutting up some watermelon, offering Aang a slice. "But I have no plans tomorrow so I'll definitely tag along."
Aang bites into his slice. "That would be great," he says around his mouthful, playful evading your smack for talking with his mouth stuffed. "Teaching with you around is always a such a motivating boost."
"Says the man who got distracted the last time I came," you quip, popping a chunk of watermelon into your mouth. "I don't think the Acolytes learned anything that day. Aside from the fact that you're easily distracted."
"By my very beautiful and gorgeous girlfriend," Aang says shamelessly, wiggling those thick brows and doesn't evade your smack this time as he laughs. "But it's the truth!"
"You're insufferable," you say, despite the beaming smile gracing your features. "I don't know why I agreed to go out with you."
"For my charming good looks."
"Okay."
Aang gasps, comically loud as a hand goes over his heart. "Okay!?" He exclaims in mock disbelief. "You wound me, my forever girl."
"Semantics or whatever they say," you reply, cheeks hurting from grinning too much. "And onto more important things, what should we do for dinner tonight? I was thinking we could swing by that Northern Water Tribe restaurant and see if they have that soup we like."
Aang nods, finishing off his watermelon. "Yeah, that sounds good." He licks his fingers. "Do you want to stop by Iroh's Teahouse to restock some dragon lily tea?"
"Absolutely." You smile when Aang comes to help you pack and clean up, the both getting lost in your own little world. Aang's smile softens when he looks at you, his heart doing an all too-familiar skip at your overall presence.
To have this life with you is a blessing, the biggest one he could ever receive. To come to a house he shares with you, to kiss you good morning and goodnight. To hold your hand as you both stroll through town, laughing and talking as best friends but also lovers.
Aang doesn't know what he did to deserve you but he intends to keep doing it for the rest of his entire existence.
"Are you going to marry her?" One of the Air Acolytes asked excitedly, causing the rest of them to look at him eagerly.
Aang laughed, rubbing the back of his head shyly as he thought to the betrothal necklace he carefully made hidden at the back of his desk drawer.
aang x f!reader | modern day
summary: a house party brings out a side of aang he isn't used to.
cw: slight violence, a man is misogynistic creep
The house is packed, crowded from wall to wall with gyrating bodies and plastic cups sloshing sticky alcohol onto an already too-sticky floor. Music blasts through the confined space, its bass loud enough to shake the house's foundation and the bones under Aang's flushed skin. It should be an annoyance—it usually is as loud house parties aren't Aang's preferred spot for a Saturday night. But Sokka's hosting it and he had pleaded incessantly for Aang to come, to the point there had been tears and a surprising amount of snot.
While Sokka's begging had worn down Aang's reluctance, it was you who had driven the final nail in the coffin. You weren't much of a party-goer either, much preferring to spend your free time doing anything else. But you had a weak spot for Sokka—you both did—and had smiled at Aang with a shrug.
"If we go now, he can't ask us to attend any other parties for the next two months," you had said and that had made Aang feel a little better. Even though Sokka had yelled "Two months!?" indignantly which you had easily ignored. "So let's go and do our social duties for a few hours then we can come home and binge-watch nature documentaries."
Aang had grinned. "Blue Plant II?"
You had grinned back. "Would it be anything else?"
Sokka had rolled his eyes. "You're both so old and boring. I'm literally older than both of you and yet—"
Aang had tuned out his rant with practised ease while you had entertained Sokka's loud woes with the purpose of riling him up more and life simply continued.
Which brings Aang back to bass thrumming through his skin and his drink wetting his hand due to the dripping condensation. He nods politely to those who greet him, entertains a brief conversation here and there from passing acquaintances and is coaxed into playing beer pong by a tipsy Toph.
"You'll be my eyes," she delegates as she drags him towards the noisy table lined with strategically placed cups of beer. "Just tell me where to aim and let me work my magic."
"Wouldn't that be cheating?" Aang asks, allowing himself to be situated by Toph's side and already taking his task seriously. "Seems like an unfair advantage."
Toph snorts. "I'm blind, Twinkletoes."
Aang nods solemnly. "Touche."
They proceed to win four rounds of beer pong and Aang wanders away from it, a little high off off their successes. He leaves a cackling Toph stuffing her winnings into her pockets, begins to head towards the kitchen for some water when a thought strikes him—he hasn't seen you in a while.
You had stayed close together when you first entered the house, hands entwined as you navigated your way through a much smaller crowd. Then Katara had appeared, bright-eyed and pretty in her shimmery eye shadow and to pull you away from him. Aang had only blinked in mild surprise as he watched you disappear up the stairs, you just as surprised as Katara yelled, "I'll have her back soon!" before you both vanished around the corner. That was the last time he had seen you and while he knows you're fine, he can't help but feel antsy because, well, he misses you and it's hard to know you're both in the same vicinity and he can't see you.
Aang decides to locate Katara since you'll most likely be with her and starts towards the stairs. But on his way there, he glances towards the room of crowded dancing bodies and stops right in his tracks because right there—you're right there.
You look…ethereal is the right word.
It's like the rest of the room fades away as Aang's eyes focus on you, trained to pick you out in a mass of even a million people. You're dancing to music, hips swinging with the beat as your hands slide over the swells of your chest and down your stomach. Katara's right behind you, sure grip on your hips as she guides you through the rhythm and you're both grinning, lost in the moment of something stronger than friendship and built upon true comfort. Aang watches, his smile growing and heart fond, and is about to turn away to look for Sokka when he catches it.
A man dances towards you with intent, a smarmy grin on his face as he gets closer and closer. You and Katara haven't noticed yet but Aang has and he's already moving, pushing his way through shaking backsides and jabbing elbows. He's still got his sights on you, all of his senses on high and boiling over the moment the man gets to you before he does. Then it's like everything goes into slow motion; Aang watches this man set his hands on your hips and press forward until you're trapped between him and Katara. Immediately your eyes fly open at the intrusion and your hands are quick to push the man away, pretty features twisting with unbridled rage. Katara is right there with you, stepping between you and the man with her own fury front and centre.
The man doesn't back down; he even attempts to reach around Katara to touch you and Aang doesn't know when he snaps.
He just does.
"I don't see what the problem is," the man laughs, his grip on your wrist uncomfortably firm. "Can't a guy approach two beautiful ladies and dance with them? Especially if one of them catches his eye?" His wink towards you brings forth a visceral reaction, your face scrunched up in disgust. "And I don't see a man with her so unless you two are scissor sisters, maybe you can tell your bodyguard here to back off. Unless she wants to join—?"
He's promptly interrupted by a swift punch to the face that sends him staggering into a dancing couple. Both you and Katara are startled by the suddenness and are then shocked when they see who caused it.
"Aang," you say softly, as if in a trance as Aang comes to stand in front of you, keeping you and Katara hidden behind his bulk. "Did you just—?"
"He did," Katara confirms, her voice just as soft. "Trust me, I had to double check to see if he was the one who actually threw that punch."
"Ah."
The man stumbles up after being pushed away by the couple he crashed into, touching his nose to see if it's broken or bleeding—it's the latter. At the sight of the blood, his expression transforms into one of a hideous beast as he approaches Aang with vicious intent. But the quickness of his stride slows the nearer he gets to Aang due to the difference of size between them.
"What the fuck is your problem, man!?" He shouts angrily. "You punched me in the face when I didn't do shit to you!"
Aang calmly raises a brow. "You didn't do shit to me?" he repeats. "If I recall correctly, you saw two women dancing peacefully on their own before deciding to force yourself upon them. One who happens to be my girlfriend and the one my best friend. Even if I didn't know them personally, I wouldn't have tolerated such behaviour."
"A knight in shining armour, huh?" The man jeers before leaning to the side to catch a glimpse of you. "I guess it's true that ladies love the nice guys and all that fucking shit but it's whatever. I didn't know the bitch was taken but even if I did, what would have stopped me from taking her for a nice ride? Maybe she would have preferred how a bad guy does it."
The words fall into Aang's mind like rotten wood that shatter upon impact and every shatter further feeds a feeling he tries to avoid. It took over when he gave into the urge to punch and threatens to swallow him whole due to what's been spat at his face. Words that pertain to you, the very meaning to his existence, drenched in the utmost disrespect and degradation. To make you seem like you're only a tool meant for the pleasure of some sick man who dares transform you into something baseless and nonexistent.
This must be that all consuming rage Zuko talks about, the one that used to fuel him when he was young and afraid but so mad at the world. The causes are not the same but the outcome doesn't differ as Aang moves before he can even think.
You call his name urgently, Katara's hand grabs at his shoulder and Sokka appears like a spirit summoned.
Aang doesn't know what happens.
He sinks.
And resurfaces in the sanctuary of Sokka's bedroom with his bloodied knuckles bandaged and his cheek pulsing with a promising bruise. He instantly recognises the scent of your perfume and hides his face into the plush of your lap, calmed by the soothing strokes of your fingers against his scalp.
"…What happened?" He asks tentatively, unsure of if he wants to know.
"Quite a few things," you say quietly. "Firstly, you have a mean right hook and secondly, I can see why meditation is so important for you."
Aang groans softly, closing his eyes. "I'm not an angry person, I promise," he says, needing to clarify that. "I never get into fights. I do my best to talk things out and if that doesn't work, I remove myself from the situation. But tonight…I don't know what happened."
You tap his nose. "I know you're not an angry person," you assure him. "But we all get angry sometimes and that anger can change into something brighter and scary because of how it engulfs us."
Aang sighs, turning his head so he can look at you and the smile you're giving him right now feels undeserving. "You've felt like this before too?" He asks and you nod, slipping your hand down from his head to his cheek.
"A few times, yes," you confirm, gently rubbing your thumb over the apple of his cheek. "We all have so don't feel bad, my love. Plus the guy was being a dick so if you hadn't punched him, I or Katara would have done it."
Aang smiles, nuzzling into your hand. "How is Katara, by the way?"
"Good, she's regaling your heroic tale to Toph."
"Oh, wonderful."
You laugh and it's the best sound that Aang can hear right now, along with the sound of your voice. He reaches up to cup your cheek with a touch so reverent that seems to shock you, your eyes widening a bit.
"I'd do it again," he confesses. "To protect you and keep you smiling and happy, I'd do it again."
The corners of your lips curl into an adoring smile, soft around its edges as you turn your head to kiss the inside of his palm.
"I know. I just hope you won't have to."
Aang hopes so too because that means you'd get to exist in a world unbothered and at peace.
18+ | aang x f!reader
cw: voyuerism, outsider's perspective
It was a mistake—an accident.
A simple case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
All nations are aware of the Avatar's conduct and how he carries himself when in the public eye. He's seen as a pillar of hope for the world and has rightfully earned the title with how wonderful he is as a person. He's humble and kind while charismatic and approachable. Avatar Aang embodies all of what an Avatar should embody and the world is truly lucky to have him in their lifetime.
But mistakes reveal secrets that are best left under many, many layers.
Isla was supposed to have delivered fresh fruits to the Avatar's quarters as a way to further welcome him to their island. The platter was beautifully arranged and stacked high with an array of fruits that are his favourite and some native to their land. She made sure her clothes weren't rumpled, her hair was in place and her make-up well done because this was the Avatar. To approach him looking anything but put together would be a shame upon her house but also herself. It also didn't hurt that the Avatar was a very handsome young man and he just so happened to be looking for a wife.
It was an opportunity that shouldn't be missed and thus began Isla's journey to deliver the Avatar his gift. She rehearsed what she was to say during her walk towards his quarters, growing flustered in her very own fantasies as the imaginary Aang asked her to spend the rest of the evening with him. Isla was glad that no one was around to hear her giggling away as they'd surely find her to be delusional but they can't blame a woman for indulging in romantic daydreams.
But those romantic daydreams were shattered when loud moans filtered through the Avatar's door, partially muffled by the heavy wood. Loud moans accompanied by the frantic slapping of skin against skin and the filthiest squelches of a drenched cunt being thoroughly fucked. Isla stared at the door, wide-eyed in her shock, as she gripped the fruit platter tightly with her sweat-slick hands.
Surely, that wasn't the Avatar in there.
Surely, she had gotten the wrong room and it was someone else having an very arduous night with their lover.
Surely, it wasn't the Avatar who was—
"Aang!" A wrecked voice cried out his name followed by a string of sobs. "P-please, ah, I'm, ngh, I'm gonna cum—!"
"Again, my love?" Aang's voice flowed out, raspy and panting. "Good girl, sweetheart, this is gonna be your third one, huh? Gonna make a mess for me?"
"Yes, I'm gonna—!" There was a loud squelch chased by a choked hiccup. "Oh."
A deafening splash echoed throughout the corridor with another hitting the tiled floor like water gushing from a tap. There were no other noises but Isla didn't know if that was true as she was already rushing away, fruit platter almost spilling in her haste to flee. All with cheeks flushed, body heated and a damp patch between her thighs.
When asked why she didn't deliver the fruits, all Isla could say is that the Avatar was asleep before dropping the platter to spend a few minutes alone to calm down. Because what she had just witnessed was something life-changing and Isla needed to sort her thoughts out…among other pressing issues.
It had been a mistake.
A wrong place at the wrong time scenario that revealed more than she should have discovered.
But a few things have changed.
Avatar Aang is still a wonderful person and rightfully deserves to be called the pillar of hope. He's still humble and kind while charismatic and approachable. Avatar Aang still embodies all of what an Avatar should embody and the world is still truly lucky to have him in their lifetime.
But behind that innocently handsome face and disarmingly cute smile is a man who really, really knows what he's doing.
summary: you get aang to try a tik tok trend. it fails (?).
"Okay," you say seriously, hands on your hips. Aang's stood before you, listening attentively as always. "Here's the scenario: you've gone to the supermarket without me—"
Aang frowns. "We always go to the supermarket together."
"I know, baby." You have to suppress a smile; he's so damn cute. "But we're just acting something out I saw on Tik Tok. I need to see how you'd react if someone tries to flirt with you when I'm not there."
"Ooooh," Aang replies before he's grinning. "That's so easy."
You raise a playful brow. "Really?" You tease. "Because one woman tried to get your phone number last week and it took me telling you what her true intentions were."
"I thought she was being friendly!" Aang exclaims, chuckling at your laughter. "She saw I was getting pottery supplies and started me asking me questions. I assumed she was interested in the craft."
"You're a handsome 6'4" broad-shouldered man with adorable doe eyes and a very cute smile. Never assume you're being approached for friendly conversation."
Aang grins, all goofy. "Aw, you think I'm handsome."
You grin back. "And annoying," you say, patting away Aang's greedy hands crawling around your waist. "Focus up! We need to do this! Mainly because I'm bored and you indulge my whimsy."
"I love your whimsy," Aang declares fondly, making your heart swell against your ribcage. "You should be whimsical more often."
"For you, I'll be anything," you say, just as fond before patting away Aang's wandering hands again. "Focus!"
"Stop being so cute and maybe I will!"
You stick your tongue out at him, joyful as he laughs. "Okay, we're starting." You clear your throat, put on a flirtatious smile as you sidle up to his side. Your chest presses into his arm, cushioning it with the plush of your bosom and Aang falters, his eyes going wide and a little glassy.
"Hey, I just—oh!" You're immediately interrupted by Aang's lips on yours, coaxing you into a kiss that leaves you breathless. You melt into at first, your initial reaction to anything involving Aang. But then you remember the task at hand and have to, reluctantly, push him away. "A–Aang!"
Aang, still dazed from the kiss, goes, "Hmm?" before trying to come in for another kiss. You make a valiant attempt to evade it, even if you don't stop the kisses he rains on your cheeks and jaw. His arms are locked around your waist, his hands dropping to the small of your back.
"You were supposed to—" He cuts you off with a well-timed kiss, rendering you weak-kneed when his tongue licks into your mouth. "Hah, you were supposed to say—"
"As if I'd look at anyone else when I have you," he murmurs, pulling you closer until you're molded into him. "If that ever happened, that isn't me. I have been abducted."
You manage a laugh, biting your lip when his mouth makes its way to your neck and brings to a life an old bruise from two nights ago. His words hit you like a drum, setting your soul ablaze while softening your already too softened heart.
You love this man so much.
"You still failed," you say, just because you can and your breath hitches when he bites down on a sensitive patch of skin as his hands glide down to lovingly cup your ass.
"No, I didn't." He's grinning widely and you have to agree.
Hiii can u maybe write about that tiktok prank trend with james and its like unboxing a parcel thats been ordered for when they go swimming at the end of the week and its just two strings nd filming him to see how he reactss
Have a good day thank you!
Omg nonnie this prank is hilarious! I love these tiktok requests because most of the time it introduces me to the trend and I fall down a rabbithole lmao. Hope you enjoy <3
boyfriend!James Potter x fem!reader string swimsuit tiktok prank ✿ 524 words
cw: fem reader, James tells reader she can't wear the 'swimsuit', tiktok prank, a bit suggestive
james potter masterlist
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You’ve had your phone propped up against the bowl on the kitchen table for 10 minutes, a box half-opened in front of you as you wait for James to get home. You press record right as you hear the front door open, smiling excitedly at the camera as your plan goes into action.
“Okay, everyone! So as you know, my boyfriend and I are going on a little holiday this weekend.” You glance up at the screen as James enters the kitchen, gym towel around his shoulders and curls damp. Visible in the camera, it’s clear he’s just come back from training. He reaches into the fridge for a water bottle.
“Well, I wanted to do a little show of the swimsuit I ordered…” You fully open the box now, noticing from James’ movement in the camera that the mention of the swimsuit seems to have caught his attention. He leans against the counter with one hip, taking sips from his water bottle as he watches you open the box.
“A-ha!” You say excited, pulling the small bundle of string out of the box. “Here we are!”
You unravel it, showing it off like it’s the greatest thing you’ve ever seen. James looks confused, brows furrowed, water bottle in his hand but forgotten as he watches.
“It’s perfect! I love the way the top matches the bottoms!” You purse your lips, holding the strings up to your body like you would an actual suit.
“Hold on…” James speaks up from behind you, and you turn, acting as though you’re surprised he’s paying attention. “What is that?”
“What is what?” You ask, acting like everything is completely normal.
“What you have, in your hand.” He gestures to the strings and you hold them up, smiling brightly like you’re so excited to be holding them.
“My new swimsuit, Jamie!” You try to hold in your laugh as he gapes at you, “Don’t you love it? I think it will look great in our pictures while we’re on holiday.”
“You’re definitely not wearing that on holiday.” He comes over and takes the strings from you. You pout at him, looking between him and the camera.
“Why not, James?” You cross your arms, “You never tell me what to wear.”
“No, I don’t.” He places the strings onto the countertop like touching them burns, and he turns back to you, placing his hands on your waist, “And as much as I would love to see you in… whatever that is, I think you’ll be breaking about 10 different laws if you wear that around.”
You laugh loudly, and James does too. You shake your head, reaching up a hand to pat him on the cheek.
“That was perfect, Jamie, thank you!” You are still giggling as you end the recording, posting it to your feed.
“What?” He looks between the strings and you again before it dawns on him. “Another tiktok prank?”
“Yup.” You say with a chuckle.
And even though James acts like he hated it, he kinda does want to see you trying to wear those strings. He might have slid them into his pocket. Maybe.
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hi babes. I love your James fire chiefX pregnant reader serie
Can you do one about the reader having a hard natural birth but in then all ends well? a mix of angst and fluff, please 🙏
Love your work ♡
hiii lovely! Thank you so much for your request, I can't wait to write him as a dad now too :))) I hope you enjoy this one, though I will say I made the birth vague because I have no knowledge or experience with labor lol okay hope you enjoy, lovely! <3
firechief!James Potter x fem!reader who goes into labor at the worst time ✿ 1.2k words
cw: fem!pregnant!reader, birth scene (vague), emt!Reggie helps reader give birth, unexpected birth/home birth, i'm sorry that the extent of my birth knowledge comes from grey's anantomy
james potter masterlist
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It had been a relatively easy, calm day for James and his crew at the fire station. So much so that he’s already uneasy. He doesn’t like sitting still, it makes him anxious. He’s already borderline frantic knowing that you’re sitting at home, ready to go into labor at any moment. This is his last shift before he has some time off to spend with you and the baby.
So, despite the fact that he continues to say he’s not an anxious person, he’s worried about you.
It gets worse when the newbie says “Wow, it’s been a good day!”
Immediately, a sharp tension takes over the crew. James’ shoulders tighten, and Sirius says “mate.” while rubbing his temples with his fingers.
James knows things are inevitably going to go wrong.
They do. Almost immediately the station gets swamped with calls, and he has to split everyone up for fires at multiple locations.
James heads to one scene, barking orders at the other men, though not in a cruel way, just loud and instructive. He needs them to move faster, always faster, as flames threaten to consume the entire building. Water sprays viscously from hoses, people run around frantically, and firefighters yell at each other over the roar of the flames.
In the midst of all the chaos, James doesn’t hear his phone ring. Not the first time, or the second, or the third. In fact, by the time he manages to glance at the screen, there are 13 missed calls from you. His heart sinks and he immediately presses answer when you call again, raising the phone to his ear.
“Is everything okay, Angel?” He plugs his other ear to try and each better, taking a few steps away from the scene, though it doesn’t block much of the sound of his pounding heart or the commotion of the fire.
“Well, um…” Your voice is shaky, a bit strained. You take a deep breath and speak again. “I think I’m in labor.”
He’s been expecting this call. Of course it happens at the worst possible time, and his heart leaps into his throat. “Did your water break?”
You don’t answer the question right away, and when you do, it’s not the answer he is expecting. Or wanting.
“Well, um…” You start slowly again, a nervous habit when you have to really think about each word coming out of your mouth. “Actually, it broke a few hours ago.”
This time it feels like his heart stops entirely, the scene around him drowned out by worry and the rush of blood to his ears.
“*What?*” He takes a few more steps away, “Why didn’t you call me?”
“Well, I- I know most women have ah- hours after their water breaks, especially with their first birth, and so I thought I’d let you finish out your shift. But now my contractions are ah- only a minute or two apart.”
Fuck.
“Okay, Angel just… lay down, breathe through it, and I’m going to be right there.” James almost drops his phone as he stomps his way back to the scene.
“Please don’t hang up!” You cry out on the other end, forcing yourself to breathe. He can hear it, feel your panic through each inhale and exhale.
“I’m not, I’m not, baby. Just hang on.” James doesn’t know what to do, he can’t think, he can’t breathe even though he’s telling you to. His eyes land on Sirius, and he stomps over quickly.
“I have to go.” He kicks into Sirius’ shoulder a bit, just enough to get his attention, leaning in so his best mate can hear him.
“Now?” Sirius glances back at the still roaring fire.
“She’s in labor!” James tells Sirius, whose eyes widen dramatically and he starts nodding and shoving James in the direction of some ambulances.
“Go!” Sirius encourages with a nod, “Take Reggie’s ambulance, I’ll take over!”
“Thank you!” James manages to say before breaking into a run toward the ambulance, his body resisting due to the weight of all of his equipment. Reggie, Sirius’ younger brother, hops into the driver's seat without question.
“Where are we going?” He asks as James moves to climb in the back. He tells Reggie his address and the two are off, lights and sirens.
The whole time, the sound of your breathing and curses of pain reach his ears, he tries to calm you by whispering soothing words of his own into the line. He doesn’t know if it’s helping.
“James.” You groan, hissing an inhale through your teeth. His heart pounds, you only call him by his full name when you’re really stressed. “I think the baby is coming right now.”
“Just- just hold on.” He doesn’t know what to do. Reggie drives faster, turning onto your street. “We’re almost there, angel, just a minute.”
“I don’t know if I have a minute!” You screech into the phone, and James doesn’t know whether you’re truly about to have the baby or if you’re just scared.
He doesn’t even wait for Reggie to fully stop the ambulance before he hops out, running inside. He finds you in the bedroom, sweating and grimacing, and runs to your side.
“It’s okay, you’re okay,” James coos softly, trying to soothe and take in the entire situation. “I have to see where you’re at baby, can I look?”
You nod, grimacing as James lifts up your maternity dress to look between your legs. Obviously he’s been there plenty of times before but… it feels a bit different this time.
James isn’t entirely sure what he’s supposed to be looking for initially, but it becomes obvious when he looks. Because he can see the head already.
“Reggie!” He calls out to the EMT, who darts into the bedroom behind him. He takes in the scene and quickly realizes what’s going on, that there’s no time to get to the hospital.
“Shit, okay.” Reggie takes James’ place, and James moves up by your head to hold your hand.
Everything happens quickly from there. Reggie is able to talk you through what to do. James feels like he might pass out, but he focuses on you. Looking at you, brushing your hair away from your sweaty forehead, letting you squeeze his hand as hard as you need.
This is definitely *not* the birth plan the two of you had made.
But when all is said and done, when the two of you hear the baby cry and James helps you into the Ambulance to head to the hospital, he finds himself oddly calm. He holds his newborn son as Reggie wheels you into the ER. The doctors check over the both of you, and though they’d like to admit you for a few days just for observation, James still only feels euphoric.
Because everything is fine, you are healthy and safe, and you’ve given him a son.
James can’t find it in himself to stay panicked. Like he says, he’s never been an anxious person.
He leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, then the baby’s.
“I love you.” He whispers to the baby, and then his eyes meet yours. “I love you.”
You blink exhaustedly, but smile, and cuddle your son tighter to your chest.
Daisy my love, it is devastating that we don’t have smut for our man firechief! James, please save us from the pain and suffering all of us are COLLECTIVELY feeling
thank you so much for requesting this because i forgot how much i love him <3
firechief!james potter x fem!reader who makes him wear the hat during sex ✿ 1.2k words
summary: your husband is too sexy for his own good, espeically in uniform
cw: NSFW 18+, newlyweds (mostly reader) being horny af, handjob, unprotected piv (plz wrap it irl), reader knows exactly what she wants and james loves that for her
james potter masterlist
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You think it’s absolutely, devastatingly cruel that James Potter is so sexy. It’s like every time you set eyes on him, you fall deeper and deeper in love. Your heart never stood a chance.
And now that you can call him your husband, every single thing he does has your heart racing and your panties damp. Even now, standing shirtless in front of the stove and cooking eggs, you want to jump his bones.
And really, what’s stopping you?
You approach from behind slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. You snake your arms around his waist and nuzzle your nose into the base of his neck, right where it meets his shoulder. He smiles, and you press a kiss there.
“Good morning.” Your voice is soft, letting your lips linger against his tan skin as you whisper.
“Good morning.” His whisper is still slightly raspy with sleep and you let out a sigh against him and tighten your arms around his middle. Your lips trail higher as you lean closer and move up on your toes, reaching for the skin of his neck. Your hands move lower, tracing over his abs and down to the hem of his pants.
“I’m cooking.” He tries to interrupt you but his voice is all sweet and syrupy, not at all discouraging. If anything, it encourages your fingers to slip a little lower, feeling the course hairs just below his navel with your fingertips. “You know it’s dangerous to interrupt someone when they’re cooking. One of us could get burnt if we aren’t paying attention.”
“Then turn it off.” You say, finally wrapping your hand around his cock. He groans, his head falling back a bit and his grip loosening on his spatula. He’s already half hard, and getting more and more so with each passing second. “I can think of something else we can have for breakfast…”
James can’t help but let out a laugh, though it’s slightly strained as your thumb brushes over the tip of him. He reaches over to turn off the stovetop before turning around in your arms. Your hands slip out of his pants as he does.
“The stove is still hot,” He says, reaching for your thighs and picking you up, encouraging your legs around him. “Better not to risk it.”
It’s you who laughs this time as he carries you down the hall toward your shared bedroom. You’re still giggling as he tosses you onto the bed and finds his place between your thighs.
His large, calloused hands dip below your shirt, pushing the fabric up past your stomach and chest so he can capture one of your nipples in his mouth, sliding your shirt up and over your head. You wrap around him like a koala to a tree, legs locked around his waist and your hands gripping the back of his shoulders.
You arch into him, feeling his tongue swirl around your sensitive bud, before he pulls off with a ‘pop!’ and a grin. You guide him back to your mouth, breathing in his groan like it’s the oxygen you need to survive.
“Lift up for me, baby,” His words are muffled against your lips but you follow without hesitation, lifting your lower half so he can slide your sleep shorts down your legs. He tosses them aside without care, his own pants following right after.
Just as he moves to settle between your thighs again you stop him with a hand to his chest, eyes mischievous from where you’re sprawled below him.
“Wait,” you say, cheeks flushing but no embarrassment in your face. You gently guide him onto his back and he follows your movements easily. His hands find your thighs, ready to lift you on top of him, but you don’t. Instead, you slip out of his grasp and off the bed. James groans, eyes following your figure as you go into the closet.
He throws his arms behind his head, eyes narrowing at the dark doorway as you dig around. He’s just about to ask what you could possibly be looking for when you return, holding his fire helmet in your hands.
James watches you with narrowed, suspicious eyes as you climb back onto the bed. This time you do settle above him, hips over his, knees on either side of his thighs.
You know exactly what you’re doing as you blink your eyes at him, the corners of your mouth turned up slyly. “Please wear the hat?”
James shakes his head but it’s more from amusement than a denial of your wishes. He tilts his head as he looks up at you, “Why?”
“Because it’s sexy.” You place the hat on his head then trace your hands slowly over his chest, rolling your hips down into his. “Sometimes I need a big, strong fireman to come and save me.”
Your words make James laugh loudly, but he doesn’t take the hat off. Instead, he quickly adjusts it before his hands find your hips again, guiding you in gentle movements against him. He groans as he says, “You already have one.”
You lean down to kiss him, two little pecks, before you pull back just enough to whisper, “It doesn’t count without the hat.”
He just rolls his eyes before he encourages you to lift up enough so you can slide down onto him. You whine, head falling back and walls clenching as he bottoms out inside of you. He hisses at how tight you are, how your wetness envelopes him even better from this angle. James loves fucking you in every way he can, but this position might be one of his favorites.
He thinks it might be yours too, as you bounce yourself on top of him, chasing after your own pleasure, eyes lingering on his hat before they flutter shut.
“That really does it for you, huh?” His question is followed by a shaky half-laugh, and all you can do is nod as your body slowly begins to tense above him, the fire in your belly stoked hotter and hotter with each roll of your hips. James begins thrusting up to meet you, creating even more friction between you.
The room is filled with the sounds of wet skin-on-skin, the bed frame creaking below your entangled bodies. Your fingernails dig into his shoulders, your thighs burning as you feel your orgasm building quickly.
“Fuck, ‘m gonna come,” James groans below you, and you feel his cock pulse inside you just before he does. You follow right after, continuing to roll your hips down onto him to ride yourself through it.
When your eyes are finally able to open again, you look down to see him with the hat still on, and a sleepy, goofy grin takes over your face before you lean down to kiss him. He guides you up enough to slip himself out of you and you bury yourself into his neck.
“Thanks, Mr. Fireman.” You whisper teasingly against his skin, and he squeezes your sides, making you squeal.
