ꮼ firelord!zuko is a lovesick man when it comes to you
ᦸ sweetheart boyfriend!zuko is a hardcore yearner ⸝⸝ not proofread.
boyfriend!zuko is a very sympathetic man; he hates to see you in any amount of pain—trying to help any way he can, from making you tea to heating a bag of rice with his flames so he can rub it over your aches in an attempt to soothe.
He'll expertly rub the tense muscles on your back or carefully hold the hot bag over cramps, just happy to make things easier for you.
boyfriend!zuko has a glow whenever he sees you, a softness only you get to know. He's still kind to the others and to his friends and puts on a brave face to the nation—strong & honorable—but you see when he collapses into you after a grueling day.
Vulnerability has never come easy for him, but it's never as hard when it comes to being vulnerable and 'weak' in front of you; it's comforting, actually.
boyfriend!zuko loves when you're cuddled up in bed & lie on top of him, claiming him as your 'special heated blanket.' He finds it oddly endearing when you tug his arms around him and burrow into his skin.
Having you pressed up against him, so content and comfortable, is always so grounding after a hard day.
boyfriend!zuko lets you play with his hair in private, twirling it in your fingertips, scratching his scalp, or just running your fingers through it whenever he's lying on your chest.
Your fingers tangled in the long strands always make it easier to sleep—he's typically out within five minutes flat whenever you start youing with it.
boyfriend!zuko doesn't hide how much he cares for you; he's had countless moments in front of his men where they've caught him holding, kissing, or just touching you for reassurance, & his only reaction is to be annoyed they didn't knock first.
He's not afraid to be honest; he's in love. There's no point in being with someone if you're not in love & not at least sometimes affectionate.
boyfriend!zuko loves whenever you start yapping. He's a rather quiet person, so he adores it whenever you start going on and on about something. It could be the most mundane, uninteresting thing, & as long as you look happy talking to him, he's listening.
It's so sweet to see the way he looks at you once you start your ramblings—the soft spot is very visible with the smile on his lips.
boyfriend!zuko likes to kiss your shoulder a lot. Waking up in a tangled mess of limbs? Expect a kiss on your cheek. Getting ready together in the bathroom? Expect his arms wrapped around you and kisses on your shoulder. A moment alone? You get it. Expect a kiss on the shoulder.
It feels more intimate than a plain kiss on the cheek, and he likes the variety of reasons he can come up with for kissing your shoulder.
boyfriend!zuko is surprisingly gentle; obviously, he'd never be mean to you, but everything between you has this soft, loving undertone.
From the tone of voice he uses, how he speaks to you, & how calm he is around you, everything is serene. He does his best to never be anything like his father. Its so sweet how he treats you.
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you were zuko’s entire world, and it was no doubt that he loved you more than anything, but even you had to admit that he had a very lustful side. at times, especially during particularly cold and quiet evenings, he just couldn’t keep his hands off his wife.
laying in bed next to the firelord, his arms wrapped around your waist as he embraced you from behind. it was a long day for him, spending coutless hours meeting with his advisors and countless discussions on issues with the fire nation colonies. you couldn’t help but soothe your poor husband minutes earlier when he had first entered your bedroom after spending the entire day away from his firelady.
it was, no, seemed innocent at first, aleast until his hands undid your robe and started slowly inching higher and higher up your chest as he caressed the supple skin. you could almost feel the smirk on his face when his palms met your breasts, feeling him poke your ass from underneath the covers.
your nipples peaked embarassingly quickly as you tried to reprimand him.
“zuko.” you scolded him, having to bite back a moan when he pinched both peaks.
his mouth found the side of your neck as he sucked on the skin, only humming a “hmm?” in response.
“please get some rest, you have to leave for a meeting with the earth king first thing tomorrow. it’s already late.” you insisted. “they won’t be pleased if you show up late aga- haah… fuck…”
you moaned as his fingers met your clit through your damp undergarments, your head throwing back as he rubbed circles around the nub.
“what was that, my love?” he sneered, grinding his hips onto yours as he continued to leave marks on your neck.
“z-zuko…” you whimpered, subconciously grinding onto his hand.
“mhm?”
you opened your mouth to tell him to stop only to cut yourself off with a moan when two of his fingers slipped into your cunt, pumping in and out at a brutal pace.
“that’s what i thought.”
as if the sensation of his long digits bullying your pussy wasn’t enough, his other hand rolled your nipple, leaving you at a loss for words. you let out loud needy moans, your hand immediately darting to your mouth to save yourself from the self-induced embarassment.
“shy already? mmm you’re so desperate, huh?” zuko smugly muttered, picking up the pace on his fingers as he grinded harder from behind you.
as you felt your climax approaching, you decided to give up all resistance for the sake of your own pleasure.
“clenching around my fingers so tightly, fuck… now, what was that about my meeting with the earth king, honey?” he grinned.
“i… aahhh… d-don’t know what you’re talking about…”
summary: you get jealous over a joke toph makes about katara and aang bringing back the air nation, so he fucks your worries right off your head.
wc: 4.3k
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It was all because of a stupid joke Toph made at dinner; one that everyone took lightly but you.
“So since Aang’s still alive..” she started with a dirty snicker at the man’s absence, quite tipsy, playfully nudging Katara’s side. “That means the Airbenders could be brought back. Think you and him could repopulate the Air nation, Sugar Queen? Have little Airbender babies filling up the temples?”
“What the hell— No!” Katara shoves her off, flustered and embarrassed, groaning in defeat at the others’ laughs.
Zuko offers her a timid smile, his words a little slurred from the drinking. “But it’s true, no? That would be a very heroic act, Katara.”
“Drop it, you guysss..” she sighs, downing one more shot, Toph’s noisy cackling mingling with Sokka’s until they’re interrupted by their synchronized hiccuping, which only causes them to laugh even louder.
Your grip tightens around your glass. You were glad nobody was looking at you; you wouldn’t know how to justify the glare you were throwing their way.
Images of Aang and Katara naked and tangled under the sheets suddenly plagued your mind, and you couldn’t tell if they were the cause of your headache or if that was the work of your sixth drink.
You huff, squeezing your eyes shut and shaking the thoughts off. This was ridiculous.
You push yourself up from the floor, and that piques Katara’s attention. She looks up at you, a little worried. “Leaving already? Is everything okay, sweetie?”
A twinge of guilt tugs at your heartstrings at the genuine worry in her voice. You give her a small nod, and your best attempt at a smile, “Just had too much to drink, don’t worry. I’ll go upstairs, to check on Aang.”
“Gooood,” Toph drawls through a fit of giggles, raising her hand to give you a thumbs up while Sokka refills her mug. “Tell him that Katara’s gonna bring back the Air nation while you’re at it. Gonna give him loooots of babies. Pregnant Katara, pregnant with little Airbenders. Buuunch of ‘em.”
Your lips purse tightly, and as much as you wanted to, you refrain from throwing your glass at her face. “.. Alright. Goodbye.”
You walk off, Katara’s exasperated denials and Toph’s increasingly dirty jokes fading into a dull noise as you storm up the stairs.
You don’t even know why this was upsetting you so badly. Sure, you had a little crush on Aang but.. it’s not like he was yours. He probably would never be.
You weren’t even a bender; so why in the world would he ever pick you over Katara?
Everyone in the group pictured them together for good reason; she was the perfect match for him. And you did love them both a lot as your dear friends.. so why were you this worked up?
Tears prick at your eyes when you stand in front of Aang’s door. You quickly wipe them off with the back of your hand, bewildered at the fact that you were actually crying over this.
You sigh. You shouldn’t have had so much to drink, this was all the alcohol.
After a few more minutes of mulling over your words and composing yourself, you knock on the door softly. Three knocks.
“Come in!” His voice, breezy like always but a little weighed down by the exhaustion of night work, shoots right through your chest like an arrow. You suck in a sharp breath, then slowly slide the door open.
“Ohh, thank Spirits you’re here.” He practically whines as he tips his head back against his chair, limp as a ragdoll. “Dumb Avatar work won’t end, I swear I thought I was about to die from boredom. You’re my savior.”
You force a small smile and walk over to his desk, setting down your glass with a bit of sake left, that he wastes no time in stealing and chugging down in a second.
He exhales with a wide grin, very pleased, melting back against his chair. “Really, really my savior.”
You stare at him silently. Your gaze lingers on the pretty arch of his eyebrows, the light blush already tinting his cheeks because he had the liquor tolerance of a two year old, the adorable twinkle in those tired, happy doe eyes..
You look further down, noting the squeeze of his too-big back against the borrowed chair, and the way his legs twisted uncomfortably to fit under the somehow small-for-him desk.
Downsides of a bigger build, huh. Your mouth dries up a little.
It physically hurt that you couldn’t have him.
His puzzled, sad frown snaps you out of your haze. “You’re not even listening to me.. am I boring you?”
“Oh, no, no, not at all. I’m sorry.” You wave your hands wildly, embarrassed and grateful that he seemingly didn’t pick up on your inappropriate leering. “I just.. just..”
The more you look into his eyes, the heavier your heart feels.
Your friends’ words keep ringing in the back of your head, the filthy images of him and Katara together in different positions refusing to leave your tipsy mind.
Spirits, you felt like you could cry again. Damn you, inhibition-lowering alcohol. And damn you, Toph.
Once again, you’re pulled out of your thoughts by him. His large hand wraps around yours, his features scrunched in worry at the sight of your teary eyes. “Are you okay, sweetheart? Tell me what’s wrong.”
Now was not the time for his stupid nicknames. This was so unfair to your poor heart.
“I am. It’s just.. this dumb thing that happened earlier.” You look down at your hand in his, your eyes welling up much to your embarrassment and dismay.
His fingers gently curl around yours, urging you to look at him. “What dumb thing? Please tell me.”
‘No.’ You wanted to say. ‘It concerns you, so how could I tell you?’ You tell yourself.
Staying silent or lying was the smart idea.
..
Maybe you would’ve been smarter sober.
With the alcohol in your system, and those beautiful eyes boring into yours so intimately in the dark of the night, the moonlight reflecting in his pupils.. you don’t feel the words spill out of your lips until you hear them yourself.
“It’s nothing. Just a joke Toph made,” with each syllable that left your mouth, your brain desperately tried to hit the brakes and shut you up, regret already pooling in your gut as you helplessly watched yourself commit the stupidest mistake of your life. “About.. you and Katara. Talked about you two.. uhm.. repopulating the Air nation, or whatever. Like.. Airbenders aren’t totally extinct since you.. you’re still here. You could, y’know, make more—”
“I-I get the gist,” he interjects, blushing while his grip tightens around your hand. He sighs lowly and shakes the thought off. “Of course it’s Toph. But.. I’m still lost.”
He tilts his head, blinking up at you so sweetly you almost melt. “I think I get the joke. Dirty, sure. But I’m not sure why it’s sad?”
“Sad?” You answer back, just as puzzled. “It’s not sad, though?”
He nods, both of you like lost puppies. “I know. So why is it making you cry?”
Fuck.
Your addled brain racks itself to come up with a reason fast enough, but oh, who were you kidding?
“It’s just..” you look down at the empty glass, wishing it was full so you could down it and hopefully choke on it. “..I don’t know.”
Could you have picked a worse answer? Hard to tell.
A long silence settles between you two, and you can feel his heavy, curious gaze on you without even needing to look at him. You regret doing so, because with the way his eyes suspiciously narrow, his oblivious mind exhausting the possible explanations for your state, you can see him work closer up to the conclusion.
“Welp,” you force an awkward chuckle, patting his hand before sliding yours off his grasp and taking a few steps back, hoping to make it out of here before he figures it out. “I’m sorry to bother you, Aang. It’s nothing really, I think it’s just the drinks getting to me. You know how they always make me soo emotional. Anyway, I just wanted to check up on you, so I’ll get going now.”
You turn around and pick up your pace, but before your fingers find the knob, a gust of wind pushes the door just right out of your reach.
“Wait.” His voice sends a shiver up your spine, cold sweat suddenly rolling off your temples. “Are you..?”
He trails off again, and your limbs grow shakier. This was such a dumb idea, why did you even have to go up to his office? Dumb, dumb, dumb.
You take a deep breath and take one more step to the door, but this time it’s slammed shut with a sharper gust.
“Were you..” You can hear the scraping of his chair as he stands up, your heart sinking down to your ass. “.. Jealous?”
And, unfortunately, there it was.
Even then, knowing Aang, you could’ve still flipped it around. Laughed and played it off. Told him he was wrong. He would’ve believed you.
But, unable to even look up from the door knob, the dumbest answer rolls out of your heavy tongue, a tipsy lightheadedness washing over you for a second. “.. Yes.”
At this point, you didn’t even care anymore. It couldn’t possibly get any worse than this. Maybe now he could laugh at how weird you were being and send you off, finally putting off the burning flames in your chest.
You wait for the longest time, neither of you moving, and right when you expect him to burst out giggling, a firm command escapes his lips instead. “Turn around.”
You blink, dazed.
You slowly turn around, and your breath hitches at the sight before you. Aang standing with his palms flat against the desk, his chest silently heaving, wisps of steam slipping out of his parted lips, more redness across his cheeks, broad and bulky and scary with his no longer sparkling eyes.
There was only what you could describe as heat in them. Not from anger, no, but something awfully akin to lust that had a foreign heat pooling deep in your lower tummy.
Was the alcohol making you see things? Was this just wishful thinking?
“Come here,” he orders again, but it’s shaky this time. Your feet comply before you can process it, and you feel your guts twisting with dread and hopeful anticipation.
Spirits, did you make him uncomfortable? You’d never seen him like this before.
When you finally stand before him, only the desk separating you, your fingers curl around your skirt in guilt. “Aang, I’m so sorry. You already have enough on your plate, I shouldn’t have said anything— Mmf!!”
You’re cut off with a rough kiss, sudden and heated from the get-go, big hands cupping your cheeks as his lips smush against yours in a sloppy mess. You want to make sense of it, but it’s hard to care when your brain’s this fuzzy and you’re living out one of your nightly fantasies.
Neither of you want to stop, breathlessly lapping at each other’s warm tongues and moaning at the unfamiliar feel, swapping sweet sake-flavored saliva.
He reluctantly breaks it with a wet pop, gazing down at you so desperately it had you squeezing your thighs together.
“Don’t move.” Aang whispers, trailing around the table to stand behind you, the order nailing your feet down to the floor. A soft gasp slips from your kiss-bitten lips when his hands tentatively rest on your hips, his breath hot against your ear as his buff body presses against your back. “Is this what you wanted?”
With his touch slowly travelling down to your thighs, all words die out on the tip of your tongue and you can only nod, swallowing thickly.
“You were jealous.” He states again, his voice low and gravelly, like the fact wasn’t embarrassing enough being said the one time. “You’d rather Toph made that joke about you, correct?”
You would’ve answered that, if something huge didn’t poke you in the ass the next second.
Heavens, what the hell was— Oh.
“You have nothing to worry about,” Aang murmurs into your ear, giving your thighs reassuring rubs as he grows unbearably hard against your backside. “I don’t want to.. repopulate the Air nation with Katara, if that’s any consolation. I don’t.”
The words do soothe you a little, but the dirty images are burnt into the back of your eyelids, looping in your mind like a cruel parade, making you shudder against him. “Thank you. I just.. I keep imagining it, and it kills me. Just imagining you on top of her and fucking her— Ah!”
You squeal, startled, when you’re swiftly spun around with not so breezy hands, facing his towering figure with a lick of your bottom lip.
His hands hook around the hem, sliding his shirt off to reveal his muscular frame in all its glory, your gaze sliding down the arrow tattoos, but you’re not given much time before the same hands slide down to the back of your thighs to lift you up on the desk.
He sweeps off the paperwork, crowded between your legs, and you can’t help but moan at how much your thighs have to spread just to wrap around his waist.
So big. In every sense of the word.
“This— Is this what you imagine?” The question’s breathless, lowering himself to look at you and you throb at the eye contact. So does he, judging from the twitching you feel against your inner thigh.
You let out a quivery sigh, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders while he leans even closer, his steamy breath mingling with yours. “..Kind of..”
He nods at that, glances around hesitantly, then decides to push you flat down on the desk. It’s firm but not rough, your head landing softly on the hardwood thanks to an air cushion he swirled up. “How about this?”
You’re about to reply with a “maybe” when wild fingers swiftly fumble with his belt, lowering his pants enough for him to spring up— WOAH!
Your face is set ablaze, quickly looking away, eyes blown wide open in a mix of shock, dread, and helpless arousal.
His hands find your hips once more, tugging your skirt up to reveal your plush thighs and a patch of your lacies that has him choking on a gasp.
He grabs your jaw, turning your head back to face him, desire and uncertainty swimming in his pretty brown eyes. “Are you.. sure about this? There’s no going back.”
“Please,” it slips out of you with a needy gasp, your legs wrapping around his waist while your hands roam over his wide shoulders. “Yes.”
With the blood rushing in your ears, you can’t hear his whispered word, but from the way his face scrunches up, you assume it was a curse.
Your skirt is fully ridden up with a gust of wind, one that (unintentionally or not) flicks up against your clothed folds and has you shivering in his grasp.
Thick fingers tug the delicate fabric to the side, and he moans in awe at the sight of your drooling slit, already so ready for him.
“So wet,” he comments as he admires the slick coating your glistening cunt, not ripping his eyes off it like it was a piece of art. The prolonged staring makes you self-conscious and embarrassed, but when your thighs shift just a little bit to hide yourself, firm hands keep them separated and he looks up at you, mildly offended. “No, don’t hide from me. You asked for this.”
“Well, I didn’t think your staring was on the menu,” you sputter out, flushed.
“I’m sorry, she’s just so beautiful.” He sighs softly, and your breath is knocked out of your lungs when he starts tracing your folds. “I can’t believe you’re already this wet. You wanted me this badly?”
His questions are genuine, but they only increase your shame. Aang senses that, and so decides to finally give you a taste of what you want.
“Fuck—!” Your back archs off the desk with a yelp, two of his abnormally big digits prodding at your sopping wet hole. It takes some time, but when they finally slip inside you, your pussy greedily sucks them in, earning a pleased grunt from him. “Good girl. Gripping me so nicely.”
It feels illegal to even hear such words from him outside the fake scenarios you touched yourself to at night. More desperate mewls are coaxed out of you when he starts scissoring you open, the pads of his fingertips pressing skillfully against your spongy spot and curling upwards.
“Need to get you ready for me,” he breathes out, stretching you out with a third finger that has you ferally clawing at his back. “So you can take me.”
Steam is wafting off him as he pounds his fingers in and out of your tight walls, unable to look away from your fluttering cunt. His calloused thumb comes to swipe over your perked up clit, a wail ripping through your throat. The sound has him lifting his eyes to check on you, and the sight of tears filling the rim of your eyes, your lips contorted into a quivering pout, your hair pooling so prettily around your head, sends a hot jolt of arousal down to his cock.
“Spirits, you—you’re so pretty.” He babbles dazedly, dragging another scream out of you with a thrust of his fingers. “Pretty, pretty girl. I need you now.”
With a few more rubs to your puffy clit, he suddenly pulls away, your arms tightening around him with a pitiful cry.
“No no, don’t cry, please.” Aang wipes the tears off your eyes, stealing a warm kiss from your puckered lips. “I’ll take care of you now baby, I promise.”
His entire body burned hot with his firebending, but especially his hands; scalding as they slid up the back of your thighs to push your legs up against your chest in a mating press.
But even his hot touch paled in comparison to the heat between your thighs.
He exhales through his nose, one of his hands ditching you to wrap around his girthy cock, lazily fisting himself as the tip flushed an angrier red, veins forking up the length.
You gasp when he lines himself up, the leaking tip gliding over your slit like he owned it, and your eyes roll back at its pure thickness.
You didn’t even know if you could take him.
He lowers himself over you, his bare chest pressed flush against yours as he litters your neck with warm open-mouthed kisses. “Ready for me?”
He takes your pathetic whimper as a “yes”, swallowing it with his tongue while he slowly pushes in.
His pre-cum mixes with your slick in filthy squelches, and you both moan loudly when he finally pushes through the tight ring of muscle, plunging into your velvety walls.
You’d think it’d be easier with him prepping you with three of his fingers, but the big stretch was still scream-worthy.
“I—I can’t,” he whines against your lips after some minutes pass by, frowning down at you so sweetly. “I really want to be gentle and good to you, b-but it’s so hard. With how you feel around me, I just wanna— wanna— ugh, lose control. You— feel so good..”
His words have your organs collapsing against each other, your cunt fluttering around him with arousal at the thought of rough sex with the sweet, tender Avatar before you.
How could you resist such a nasty demand made with the most adorable look?
“Lose it.” You whisper into his mouth, feeling his entire back tense up under your hands. You pull him in for a brief kiss, “I want you to lose it.”
“Fuck,” he hisses, your eyes widening at the flickering of his tattoos. “D—Don’t say that.”
His slow thrusts grow faster and rougher, each inch splitting you further and completely numbing your tipsy mind, broken moans ripping through your hoarse throat when he bottoms out.
You try to adjust to his size, the lingering pain only increasing your pleasure as he rolls his hips into the flesh of your ass, his grip deadly tight around your folded thighs. “Spirits—”
The desk clatters under you, mewling in tandem while he tries to fight the Avatar state, flashes of blinding white forcing you to shut your eyes but they were just as quickly forced back open at the animal pounding that accompanied them.
Holy mother of God, you could feel him in your womb.
“Is—” He grunts, suddenly ripping your top off with his teeth to bare your chest to his hungry gaze. You’re taken off guard, choking on your startled yelp when he hikes your hips up to deepen his angle and fuck you harder, his eyes drinking in the bounce of your gorgeous tits. “Is this what you imagined?”
You could hardly tell if it was Aang anymore, tears streaming down your face and hiccuping sobs while his wild thrusts bruised your cervix.
You feel him twitch inside you, his pace stuttering for a second, and that’s when you know he’s close.
He leans down to capture one of your peaked nipples between his teeth, nipping and licking at the sensitive bud as he reveled in your whiny cries. His svelte fingers take care of the neglected one, twisting and rolling it while his tongue flicked harshly against your left.
When his lips close on it in a sucking motion, your mind goes blank and your eyes cross, drool leaking out of your mouth when you open it to beg for release.
With your pleading and the way your cunt lovingly squeezes around his throbbing dick, he completely loses it and brutally picks up the pace.
“Gonna.. gonna cum,” he slurs, latching off your chest to gaze down at your wrecked face. “Pump you full of me. That’s what you want, right?”
He takes your loud moan to his words as approval, drunk on your noises as he fucks you with the stamina that could only belong to the Avatar.
“Fuck, need— need to breed you.” He turns into an incoherent mess, each thrust fucking your earlier scenarios right out of your head, Katara’s image gradually being replaced by yours. Your nails draw blood, scratching down his muscular back while he gets off to the thought of knocking you up, his fingers sliding down to rub fast circles on your clit. “My—my sweet girl, gonna give me lots of little Airbenders. You want that, don’t you? Stuffed full of my cum, bearing my children. You’ll make me a daddy.”
If his cock destroying your cervix wasn’t enough to make you cum, his words definitely did it.
Your orgasm crashes over you, your toes curling in the air, gushing all over him with a broken cry and so does he, the feel of your walls clamping down on him so tightly tipping him over the edge as hot ropes of thick cum paint your insides white.
It’s so warm — and so much — you almost cum again from the sheer sensation.
“Gonna get you pregnant,” he breathlessly pants, angling your hips up for none of his cum to slip out of you. Your pussy spasms around him, thoroughly milking him dry and you don’t know if it’s just the tipsiness, but you could swear you felt all his warm seed seep through your cervix and fill up your womb.
You’re both drenched in sweat, fighting for air. He gives you a few more thrusts for good measure, draining himself out entirely, eliciting an overstimulated mewl from you, before reluctantly pulling out of what he would later consider his home.
Dazed, he watches your swollen folds clench around nothing, and when he sees some of his cum dribble out of them, he tuts and fingers it back inside you. He does this for the next minutes, making sure you’ve taken all of him, appreciating your needy squirms and whimpers each time.
When he’s satisfied with himself, he exhales deeply, all his earlier savageness gone for an affectionate look in his eyes as he gazes down at you. He gives you a fond smile, pressing his large palm flat against where your womb is. “You’ll grow me some Airbenders in here, won’t you? Birth me back my nation?”
Too fucked out to answer, you nod weakly, limp in his grasp. He leans down to kiss you tenderly, slow and warm and wet. “I can’t wait. In some months, everyone will know what happened here. They’ll know who you belong to, who you craved tonight. You’ll be all big and swollen with my babies.”
The thought has you furiously blushing, your arms wrapping tighter around his shoulders. “W-Well.. it’s still too early to know if I’ll be preg—”
“Oh you will be.” He answers with a cheeky grin, patting your belly again. “Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”
You blink at him, incredulous, a small smile tugging at your lips too. “But that’s not how it works. There’s no guarantee that I’m pregnant, even if you know what you’re doing.”
At that, he groans, tucking his face into the crook of your neck while his heavy body rests over yours. “But I’m the Avatar. My stuff’s gotta be special. I’m sure it worked, you’re definitely knocked up.”
You return his tired hug, letting out a soft exasperated sigh. “.. Sure, Aang.”
Meanwhile, everyone downstairs remained blissfully ignorant of what the hell happened a floor above them, all busy with their drinks and tipsy banter.
All, except for a very drunk earthbender that heard everything through the walls. Who was thankfully way too drunk to properly tell the others, only shouting garbled congratulations to the ceiling that nobody bothered to understand. “Niiiice. Good going, Twinkle toes. You lucky dog.”
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masterlist
* i’d be popping out babies left and right with this yummy bald man.. if you see any mistakes leave me alone i hate proofreading.
Synopsis: You and Sokka married, both of you stubborn, devoted, and entirely too in love. Same year you had your first child and while you were overjoyed, something in Sokka shifted. He didn’t just want a family. He wanted a legacy. (art from Pinterest)
Pt2 Missing Your Touch
Sokka had always been an enthusiastic person. As a child, he threw himself into everything. Training, hunting, leading, even his terrible ideas. So when he married you at twenty-two, he made a promise to give you everything he had.
And Sokka, unfortunately, had a lot to give.
You had your first child that same year, a beautiful baby girl with your features and Sokka’s entire personality packed into a tiny, chubby, unstoppable body.
“Look at her!” Sokka beamed one afternoon, crouched low as your daughter toddled across the floor, clutching a poorly carved toy boomerang. “Baby, she’s perfect. She’s already a warrior.”
“She just tried to eat snow like five minutes ago,” you replied, leaning against the doorway.
“She’s innovative,” he corrected proudly.
You scoffed into a laugh, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek. He turned his head just enough to steal one from you instead. That should’ve been your first warning, because something in Sokka clicked that day. And from that moment on…he wanted more.
More laughter, more chaos, more chubby grabby hands, more little feet running across the ice floors.
More you.
And unfortunately you Sokka didn’t believe in doing anything halfway.
•••
You should’ve known something was up the second Gran Gran looked at you like that.
You were sitting beside her, helping sew tiny fur-lined coats for the expecting mothers in the village. The needle moved steadily in your hands, but Gran Gran’s gaze lingered on you, sharp and knowingly.
“What?” you asked, squinting at her suspiciously. She smiled slowly, eyes soft but entirely too perceptive.
“I think,” she said, patting your knee, “we should make one more… for you.”
You blinked for a second registering her words, “Gran Gran no.”
She hummed nodding. You just laughed it off shaking your head, she’s ridiculous.
Two months later, you were staring at your round reflection in complete disbelief.
Seven months after that—twins…twin boys!
Sokka nearly lost his mind.
“Two?!” he shouted, pacing the room while you held one baby in each arm. “We made TWO?!” The babies blabbed blowing raspberries with their spit having no idea what was going on.
“You helped,” you said dryly.
He dropped to his knees in front of you, eyes shining like stars in the midnight sky. “This is incredible. This is— this is strategy. This is expansion. This is—”
“This is you not sleeping for the next year,” you cut in. He didn’t even hear a word you said. By the next week, he had already built some ridiculous contraption to carry all three children at once. It had straps, hooks and something that looked suspiciously like a modified fishing net.
“It’s efficient!” he insisted as you stared at it.
You stood with a hand on your hip with your head tilted, “It’s a safety hazard.”
“It’s innovative.” He had his arms open in awe.
“Just like the snow eating, huh?”
He wore a big bright grin “…Exactly like the snow eating.”
The third time truly was NOT your fault. New Year’s Festival, Gran Gran offered to see the kids. The entire village was celebrating, fireworks, alcohol, music, and dance.
And your husband? Your very affectionate, very determined husband decided that the storage tent behind the main hall was “private enough.” Nine months later, you had another daughter…
Gran Gran didn’t even act surprised anymore she just welcomed her with open arms.
Ten years passed in what felt like a blur of laughter, exhaustion, sleepless nights and tiny voices calling for you at all hours of the day.
Six children.
Four girls. Two boys. A home that was never quiet, and a husband who still looked at you like you were the best decision he had ever made.
The village noticed, of course they did.
At first, it was small comments. The little jokes. Nothing malicious just amused, fond observations whispered between mothers while hanging laundry or gathering water.
“I heard Chief Sokka might single-handedly repopulate the Southern Water Tribe.” Giggles followed.
“Oh, please. At this rate, they’ll need a second house.”
“I give it two more years before they run out of names.”
You didn’t hear any of it. Not until your best friend Leila told you.
Leila leaned casually against your open doorway, watching as you expertly balanced a toddler wrapped to your chest while braiding your eldest daughter’s hair.
“You know,” she said, biting back a grin, “people are starting to talk.”
You didn’t even bother to look up. “If this is about the twins putting fish in someone’s boots again, I already handled it. They're cleaning them as we speak.”
“No, no,” she waved you off. “It’s not bad gossip. It’s just—” she paused, trying not to laugh. “They joke about you and Sokka repopulating the entire tribe.”
You stilled. Slowly, you turned your head. You didn’t know how to feel about hearing that.
“…What?”
Leila lost it sitting down her basket and coming inside to take a seat, “I’m serious! Six kids in ten years? People are impressed— a little concerned and afraid but overall impressed.”
You blinked. Then glanced around your home at the scattered toys, the half-finished chores, the sheer number of small humans moving around you.
“Oh…Okay,” you admitted slowly. “That’s…kind of fair.”
•••
You thought about what Leila said all day and decided to bring it up later, casually though.
The house was loud as usual children scattered across the floor, toys half-finished, one of the boys arguing loudly with his sister over something completely nonsensical. Sokka sat beside you, one child asleep across his lap as you folded laundry nearby.
“So,” you started, “The village thinks we’re trying to repopulate the Southern Water Tribe…”
Sokka snorted. “What? That’s just ridiculous.”
You hummed. “I mean… six kids, Sokka. That’s quite a few.”
He paused, seemingly in thought. You narrowed your eyes waiting for a response, “…Sokka?”
He scratched the back of his neck. “Well…” he said carefully. “When you put it like that…”
“Sokka.” Your stern tone hinting for him to spit it out. “I just—” he shrugged, trying (and failing) to look innocent. “I kinda thought we’d have more ya know?.”
Silence fell over the room. You stared at him as you felt your eye began to twitch and fist tighten around the clothes you held.
Sokka being Sokka smiled trying to make it better. Big mistake.
You set the laundry down slowly. “More?” you asked making sure you heard your husband correctly. The room went quiet just the crackle of the fire and Sokka’s very audible gulp.
“Just a few,” he said quickly. “You know round it out.” You stood, he immediately knew he screwed up.
“Sokka have. you lost your damn mind?! A few more— ROUND IT OUT?! Look at me, are I not round enough? I have spit out six children and you want more—“
“Wait—”
“You know what I’m never letting you touch me again.”
“WHAT— hey, that was a joke!” he scrambled to his feet laying his once sleeping baby on his lap on the nearest softest surface. He ran after you calling your name but you paid him no mind.
“You have six children, Sokka. SIX!”
He continued to follow you around your home like a lost otter penguin, “And they’re amazing!”
“You are done.”
“I’m not done—”
“You’re done!”
He continued to follow after you, actual panic setting in. “Baby, be reasonable—”
“Go be a father!” you snapped, gesturing to the chaos of your home.
“Wha- I am a father!”
“Well be more of one!”
“I can do both!” He pleaded.
You stopped, turned, and gave him a look so sharp it could’ve cut an ice berg down. He froze in his tracks, even as the Chief of The Southern Water Tribe his wife is the sole person who can strike fear in him (besides Gran Gran).
“…I’m joking,” he said weakly.
You stared at him a second longer before turning and walking off toward your children playing with the other kids you invited over earlier. Sokka stood there, watching you walk then glanced around at his six kids, then looked back at you.
“I could handle one more...” he muttered.
Across the room, Gran Gran— who had definitely heard everything sighed deeply.
“You,” she called, pointing at Sokka without even looking at him, “are going to be the death of that poor girl.” The other village mothers nodded in agreement.
Sokka frowned into a scowl. “Oh, go home already!” The women paid him no mind.
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mentions: fluuuuuuuff, firelord zuko = adult zuko fyi, zuko helps you warm up, thats it
(i was super cold in the middle of the night AND im on my period so this was lowkey a bit self indulgent SORRY GUYS also ik its normally hot in the fire nation but pls idc)
—————————————————————————
the word ‘cold’ didn’t really exist in the fire nation. in fact, it was rare for even a breeze of cold air to come through the nights due to the warm, tropical climate that surrounded the nation thanks to being home to firebenders
but tonight, you surprisingly felt cold. even under the warm, silk blankets that you were under, even when the windows were closed, even when large, muscular arms were around you and belonging to your own personal heater— aka your husband. yet surprisingly, zuko’s body warmth wasn’t enough for tonight
you slowly turn your body to face zuko, eyes still half lidded from sleep. the sudden shift of your movement made zuko let out a small sigh before moving to place his chin on top of your head
“zuko” you whispered
no answer
“zuko”
that made a sleepy hum leave his lips as his arms tightened around your waist on instinct, pulling you closer and already preparing to go back to sleep. even though he pulled you closer and tighter, you still couldn’t ignore the chill
you pressed closer, burying your face against his bare chest time with hopes that the slight shivers would fade— but it didn’t
“…im cold” you admitted quietly in the silent night. and your words made zuko still for just a second before pulling back to look at you. even in the dim light, you could feel the shift in him with the way sleep fell away from him almost instantly, despite his tired eyes
“cold?” he repeated, matching your tone. you just nodded faintly, looking up from his chest as a way not to let go from his warmth. that was all zuko needed to see
a concentrated frown formed on zuko’s lips and you couldn’t help but notice how even in the middle of the night with his hair a mess and his face tired, he still looked so beautiful. without another word, his hand slid along your back, settling there as his breathing slowed and deepened
and just like that, a familiar warmth began to build— not overwhelming or scorching, but controlled. careful
the heat seeped into you gradually, spreading from where his palm was against your spine. it wasn’t just zuko’s hand that was warming up, it was also his chest and his entire body in general, thanks to his breathing technique
“tell me if its too much” he murmured, voice still low and rough with sleep but more grounded. you just nodded, feeling your body relaxing now that you couldn’t feel the cold anymore
then, after a while, zuko spoke quietly. “better?” his voice was lower but more awake. you let out a small breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “yeah” you responded, eyes closing and body already preparing to go back to sleep
you felt his arm tighten again, but deliberately like he was making a point of keeping you there, that he was here whenever you needed him
after a moment, zuko shifted just enough to press a sleepy kiss to your temple before settling back in, his head once again resting on top of yours. “get some sleep” he murmured softly, eyes already closed and soon surrendering himself to the slumber once again. you didn’t respond with anything but a faint nod, already half-asleep.
and the warmth he held? it didn’t fade for the rest of the night
—————————————————————————
masterlist!
(a/n: first time writing zuko! also took all four of my wisdom teeth out at one shot and i already miss eating something solid)
࿐ synopsis ⦂ you could wear the crown and speak the right words and smile at all the right moments; and still find yourself alone in a garden, wondering if loving the fire lord was ever supposed to feel this much like disappearing.
꒰꒰ involving contents ⦂ soft angst with a pure fluff ending, fire lady responsibilities, a random oc, hidden feelings and a confrontation.
they dressed you in red and gold the way they'd dress a weapon before it's presented, with a manner that had nothing to do with what you want.
you stood very still while the handmaidens work. the robes were heavy, though the pins for your hair were even heavier. a headpiece was placed at your crown, while you admired the making of you becoming someone you didn't quite recognize, in the bronze mirror.
...fire lady... the title rested in your chest, bright enough with status, but never truly feeling like it belonged to you.
ZUKO appeared in the threshold behind your reflection. he was already dressed for this kind of life... the attire of statecraft suited him differently than it once did. you can see it in the way he carried the weight of the crown with admirably acceptable that this was where he was meant to be.
his eye found yours in the mirror. "are you done here?"
for a second, you thought of honesty... of the hundred courtiers waiting beyond the doors... the ministers with their assessments in their eyes... the way every room in this palace seemed to judge you. but amongst all that worry, you still thought about how much you love him, and how that love taught you to give in to the life that was offered with him...
"yes!"
the banquet was a perfection of performance.
you smiled when you were meant to. zuko sat to your left and managed the table of highborns like he had made peace with being looked at. you watched him from the corner of your eye... he was so good at this. how was he so good at this.
you weren't any good at it...
that you knew, the moment LADY SHAN, wife to one of zuko's senior generals, asked you what you make of the proposed trade with the earth kingdom... an easy question to anybody. you opened your mouth, and the only honest answer in your tired mind, was... I haven't been spoken to, on it properly and I'm afraid of saying the wrong thing... but, you decided to let it go with carefully dragged out words that probably meant nothing to her. you held your breath as she gave a polite smile and kept on.
when the final course arrived, you were so far behind your own eyes that the candlelights were speaking to you. you smiled for the last time, waiting for it to be over.
you were trying to even out your breathing when you heard his footsteps. zuko found you perched on the garden's bench, overgrown compared to the formal ones near the audience chambers... no one has been here in years.
"you left..." he brought up, attention shared between your abandoned headpiece beside you, your unheld up hair... and finally, the way you were sitting, shoulders down, face tilted up to the midnight sky.
"I needed air."
"I know." he came to sit by your side, close in silent comfort. "I saw your face during the shan conversation."
your eyes flutter shut for a second too long. "was it obvious?"
"to me." he spoke in hushed tones. "not to her."
you glanced down at the folded hands in your lap, still wrapped in red silk. "I don't know what I'm doing in there, zuko. I know how to be... I know who I am. I know that. but I don't know how to be that in there, in that room, with all of them watching me decide what words to say before I say them." you exhaled. "I don't know how to be your fire lady in a room that already has an opinion about what your fire lady should look like."
zuko stayed quiet for long enough, that you just had to face him. his profile, in the dim light, was serious for you mattered to him and he, now had to work out what to say without destroying your bond.
"...when I became fire lord," he began, "I sat in that throne room for an entire day of petitions and I understood maybe a third of what was being asked of me. and I had trained for it. I was certain everyone in the room knew how out of place I looked."
"that's different. you're... "
"I'm what?"
... you sighed, swallowing it back... you're zuko.
"I didn't marry you because you were born for this," he said. "no one is born for this. I barely survived learning it, and I had years of it before my exile as preparation." he twisted to look you in the eyes, now. "I married you because you are... you're honest in a way that people in that room have forgotten how to be. you're kind without overthinking it. you see things." he paused. "those aren't weaknesses in a fire lady. those are exactly what the fire nation has been missing."
"I couldn't answer a question about trade policy," you deflected.
"I'll have someone fill you in on that. properly, this time .. I should have done that already. that's on me." his jaw tightened slightly at his mistake of being so caught up on having you a wife and your time, that he forgot, the both of you weren't the only two to exist in his world of duties. "I keep forgetting that I can't just throw you in and expect you to swim because I know you can. that's not how this works. you needed scaffolding and I didn't build you any and I'm sorry."
"I'm not fragile," you started. "I'm not asking you to protect me from it."
"I know you're not." zuko picked up the headpiece from beside you, tumbled it over in his hands, studying detail. "I'm asking myself to be better at the parts of this that are mine to carry. preparing you. telling you when something's going to be hard instead of assuming you'll figure it out." he set it down, gently. "we're a team in this. that means the failures are mine too."
he stared you down, waiting on you... though you weren't sure what he was waiting for... permission, correction, or simply for you to say something true .. the truth is what you chose.
"I was scared tonight," you confessed. "not all the time. there were moments I was fine. but the scared parts were very scared."
"that's allowed." his eyes, in this light, were very gold. "I was scared tonight too, for the record."
a half laugh left you. "you looked so calm."
"I've had more practice looking calm than being calm." the corner of his mouth lifted heavenward. "It's a different skill."
you spilled laughter again, properly this time, and something in your chest set free the tension that had been building since the handmaidens first pinned your hair.
zuko reached over, in search of your hand. his fingers were always fired up. "...next time," he said, "come find me before you disappear into the garden. we can leave together for a few minutes. I need the air too."
"people will notice."
"let them." his thumb swiped your knuckles, once. "I am the fire lord. If I decide my wife and I need five minutes of quiet, I think I can make that decision."
it was quietly radical in his words of my wife... you were never something as little as a title, or a trophy draped in gold to be presented to crowded rooms.
you flipped your hand over and held his the right way. "alright" you agreed. "next time."
he nodded, but neither of you moved for a while. the lantern light from the main hall was lost to the moonlight. you can hear the faint drift of a late musician still playing in the palace... you sat in the garden until the song ended. soon, zuko fetched your headpiece, standing, and offered you his hand... it was time to return... together.
atla masterlist . . . . . ↷
all atla and zuko works ࿔ ✎ join the taglist? for future works.
you were sitting on the edge of the fountain in the private gardens, watching the sun dip below the palace walls, when you heard the heavy, familiar sound of boots against the stone path. zuko was walking toward you, looking more like the boy you’d fallen in love with back when you guys were teenagers than the fire lord who sat on a throne all day. he had ditched his heavy ceremonial robes for a simple, sleeveless tunic in deep crimson and gold, his hair pulled back into a topknot that a few stray strands had already escaped from.
"there you are," he murmured, his voice sounding low and raspy from a long day of meetings.
you stood up as he reached you, and he didn't hesitate to pull you into a hug. as his arms wrapped around you, the first thing you noticed was the sheer heat radiating off him—and then, the solid weight of his arms. without the layers of silk covering him, you could feel every inch of his biceps pressing against your shoulders. they felt like warm marble, thick and incredibly firm. you leaned into him, your hands sliding up his arms instinctively. your fingers brushed over the smooth, bunched muscle of his upper arms, and you couldn't help but let out a tiny, impressed hum.
"zuko," you whispered into his chest, your palms flat against his biceps now. "when did you even have time to train today? you feel... different."
he pulled back just enough to look down at you, a small, tired smirk playing on his lips. "i spent two hours with my uncle this morning before the sun was even up. why? is something wrong?"
"no, definitely not wrong," you said, squeezing the muscle under your hand. it didn't give an inch. "it’s just that this shirt really shows off how much work you've been putting in. your arms are huge."
zuko’s face flushed a light pink, his golden eyes flickering with a mix of bashfulness and pride. he shifted his weight, crossing his arms over his chest—an action that only made the muscles swell and pop even more against the fabric of his vest. the definition was ridiculous; you could see the way his biceps peaked and how the veins traced slight paths down to his forearms.
"it's just from basic forms," he muttered, though he didn't move your hands away.
"come on, let me see," you teased, giving him a playful nudge. "actually flex for me. i want to see if they're as solid as they feel."
he let out a soft huff of a laugh, shaking his head. "you're ridiculous. i'm the fire lord, i shouldn't be standing in the garden flexing like a show-off."
"please? just for your wife? no one is looking," you pleaded, looking up at him with wide eyes.
zuko sighed, but the corners of his mouth were twitching. he uncrossed his arms and took a half-step back. he took a breath, and then, with a bit of a dramatic flair he’d probably learned from uncle iroh, he brought his arm up and flexed. his bicep surged upward, the muscle becoming a hard, rounded knot that looked powerful enough to snap a spear in half. the skin was tight over the peak, and the sheer size of it made your jaw drop slightly.
you reached out, poking the center of the muscle with one finger. it was rock hard. "okay, you’re definitely not just doing basic forms."
zuko laughed, the tension of the day finally bleeding out of his shoulders as he relaxed the pose and pulled you back into his space. "are you satisfied now, or am i going to have to do the other arm too?"
"hmm, i would definitely like that," you whispered, your voice trailing off as your hands slid from his waist back up to his shoulders. you couldn't help yourself; the way the sunlight hit the definition of his arms was too distracting to ignore.
zuko let out a low, vibrant chuckle that you could feel vibrating against your own chest. he seemed to enjoy the attention more than he was willing to admit. "you're obsessed," he teased, though his eyes were warm and full of affection.
to satisfy your curiosity, he shifted his stance and grazed the other arm, tightening the muscle just enough for you to see the way his triceps flared and the skin pulled taut over his shoulder. he looked incredibly powerful standing there in the garden light, the dark fabric of his sleeveless vest contrasting against his skin.
he didn't let you stare for too long, though. before you could make another comment about his training routine, he reached out and cupped your face with his hand, his thumb catching your chin to tilt your head up. his expression softened instantly, all the lingering stress from his meetings finally vanishing.
he leaned down, his breath warm against your skin, and pressed a deep, lingering kiss to your lips. it was sweet and slow, tasting like the tea he'd had earlier and feeling like home. as he pulled you closer, his arms wrapped around you again, and you could feel the immense strength in his frame holding you steady against him.
"i think we should stay right here for a little longer," he murmured against your lips, his voice dropping into a low, private register that sent a shiver down your spine.
he pulled you in even tighter, his large hands splaying across your back and pressing you firmly against the heat of his chest. you could feel the rhythmic thrum of his heart beating against yours, steady and strong. he leaned in again, trailing his nose along the side of yours before burying his face in the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath as if your scent was the only thing keeping him grounded after a long day.
