Please please can we get a part two to the pregnancy fic where the baby comes??
Zuko, who had faced down armies without flinching, looked like he might pass out. “She’s so tiny..” he breathed, his voice cracking as the midwife placed the squirming bundle into your arms. The baby’s face was scrunched and red, her dark hair plastered wetly to her scalp, but when she blinked up at them with golden eyes, his eyes—Zuko’s knees actually buckled. He caught himself on the edge of the bed, his fingers trembling as he brushed the back of one knuckle against Izumi’s cheek.
The first time Izumi laughed, it was at the Fire Sages. One of the elder sages. a man whose beard had gone from black to gray in service to the throne—had been droning through a ceremonial blessing when Izumi, perched on Zuko’s lap, let out a delighted giggle. Her tiny hands smacked against the scroll he was holding, sending it tumbling to the floor in a cascade of ember-red silk. The sage blinked, his ceremonial headpiece slightly askew, and Zuko, Firelord Zuko, conqueror of his own destiny*—bit his lip so hard it bled trying not to laugh.
"You're supposed to be a dignitary," You whispered later, pressing a damp cloth to his mouth as they sat in their private garden. Izumi was sprawled across Zuko’s chest, her fingers tangled in the sash of his robes. "Not a conspirator with a six-month-old."
"She has taste," Zuko muttered, shifting Izumi higher so he could press a kiss to her forehead. "That scroll was outdated anyway. The Fire Sages still haven’t updated the lineage records to include your family name."
Izumi chose that moment to sneeze, a tiny explosion that left a trail of drool on Zuko’s collar. You burst into laughter, leaning forward to wipe it away. only for Izumi to grab her wrist with surprising strength. The baby’s golden eyes narrowed, studying your fingers with the intensity of a scholar deciphering ancient script.
The first time Izumi firebent, she set the nursery curtains ablaze. It happened at dusk, when the last embers of sunlight painted the palace walls in molten gold—fitting, really, for a child born of fire. One moment, you were adjusting Izumi’s swaddle, murmuring about the evening’s visit from Uncle Iroh, and the next, a tiny fist shot free from the blankets with a spark that ignited the silk in a whoosh of crimson flame.
The first time Izumi asked for a sibling, she did it by dragging a baby turtleduck into the throne room during Zuko’s morning petitions. The delegates from the Southern Water Tribe barely had time to react before the three-year-old deposited the squirming creature onto the polished obsidian floor with a wet *plop*. "Daddy," she announced, pointing at the turtleduck with one sticky finger, "I want this but human."
Zuko choked on his tea. The Fire Sages, already scandalized by the interruption, turned varying shades of purple. You. The firelady, who had been discreetly nursing a headache behind her fan, snapped it shut so hard the ivory ribs cracked. "Izumi," you said slowly, "where did you get that?"
"Pond," Izumi said matter-of-factly, as if smuggling wildlife into state functions was perfectly reasonable. The turtleduck, sensing an opportunity, began waddling toward the Earth Kingdom ambassador’s ceremonial robes. "Uncle Iroh says babies come from love. You love daddy lots," She demonstrated by throwing her arms widec knocking over a ceremonial urn of fire lilies in the process. "So make another one."
The resulting silence was so profound they could hear the turtleduck pecking at the ambassador’s hemline. Zuko’s scar twitched. "We’ll discuss this later my dear.," he hissed, just as the turtleduck relieved itself on the Earth Kingdom’s finest silk.
The turtleduck incident was only the beginning. Izumi, now four and armed with the terrifying persistence of a child who'd discovered the power of repetition, had turned "daddy, when?" into a daily refrain. She greeted Zuko at breakfast ("When can I have a baby sister?" as she dripped honey onto his treaty scrolls), interrupted council meetings ("When,daddy?" bellowed from the courtyard where she'd scaled a pillar), and echoed through the palace corridors at bedtime ("When? When?" chanted like a war drum until you resorted to bribing her with extra fire flakes).
Zuko was beginning to understand why his ancestors had built soundproof chambers.
The palace settled into a heavy, humid silence after Izumi finally drifted into a charcoal-smudged slumber. Zuko sat on the edge of their expansive bed, the crown of the Fire Lord discarded on the nightstand. He rubbed his temples where the weight of the gold had pressed all day.
"The delegates are still talking about the turtleduck," Zuko muttered, his voice raspy.
You stepped out from behind the silk dressing screen, her robe hanging loose. "At least they weren't talking about the tax code. She brought levity to the throne room."
"She brought animal droppings to the Earth Kingdom ambassador’s boots," Zuko countered, though a smirk tugged at his scarred cheek. He looked up at you as he approached, his golden eyes darkening.
"She won’t stop asking, you know. She’s as stubborn as a badger-mole."
"Then let's give her what she wants," You whispered, your fingers sliding into his dark hair.
Zuko groaned, a low sound that vibrated against your stomach as he pulled you between his knees. "Are you sure? Another one like her might actually burn the palace down."
"We'll buy fireproof curtains this time," you teased, tilting his head back to kiss the line of his jaw.
Zuko didn't hesitate. He stood, his hands finding the tie of her robe and yanking it free. The silk slid to the floor in a crimson puddle. He shoved his breeches down, his turgid cock springing free, thick and already leaking a bead of clear pre-cum that glistened in the firelight. He pushed you back onto the mattress, his weight a familiar, grounding heat.
"I want to feel every bit of you," he growled, his breath hot against your ear.
He spread your legs wide, the damp heat of your pussy beckoning him. He didn't use his fingers; he wanted the immediate friction of skin on skin. He guided the broad head of his dick against your slit, smearing your natural cream upward toward your clit. A wet, shlicking sound echoed in the quiet room as he slid home, the girth stretching her tight walls.
"H-hah.. oh fuck..” you gasped, your fingers digging into the muscles of his back.
“Tell me if I'm too much," Zuko panted, his hips beginning a rhythmic, forceful grind.
"Never. More. Give me more," you urged.
The pace quickened, a messy, squelching rhythm taking over as sweat-slicked bodies slammed together. Air hissed out of you with every deep thrust. At one point, his cock slipped out from a particularly vigorous upward tilt of your hips, the head slapping against your wet thigh with a meaty thud. Zuko didn't wait; he gripped your waist, his thumbs bruising your skin, and shoved back inside with a guttural roar.
The sound of their union became a frantic cacophony of wet slaps and heavy breathing. You felt the blunt pressure of him hitting your cervix, a sensation that sent sparks through your vision. "Zuko, I'm... I'm close!"
"Stay with me," he commanded, his movements becoming frantic.
He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as his seed erupted inside you— in hot, thick pulses. You shrieked, your internal muscles clamping down on him, milking the last of his heat. They lay there for a long time, the only sound the crackle of the hearth and the heavy, synchronized thumping of two hearts.
"Do you think it worked?.." Zuko asked breathlessly, his forehead resting against yours.
You smiled, tracing the curve of his ear. "If it didn't, we'll just have to try again tomorrow."
