It’s become a habit lately—your body pulling you from sleep long before the palace stirs to life.
The room is still dim, washed in soft blue-gray light, and for a moment you just lie there, listening.
The steady rhythm of his breathing.
The quiet crackle of distant braziers.
The faint hum of a world that hasn’t fully awakened yet.
Slowly, you sit up, careful not to disturb Zuko beside you.
Even when he's asleep, there’s tension in him—like he never fully lets go of the weight he carries.
You slip from the bed and move toward the window, wrapping a robe around yourself as cool air brushes your skin.
Your hand drifts, almost unconsciously, to your stomach.
It still feels surreal.
There’s no visible change yet—nothing anyone else would notice—but you feel it in quiet ways.
The fatigue.
The strange shifts in your appetite.
The subtle awareness that your body isn’t just yours anymore.
You press your palm there gently.
There’s really a life there.
Your breath softens.
You’re still staring out over the palace gardens when you hear movement behind you.
“…You’re awake.”
His voice is rough with sleep, but softer than anything he uses for the rest of the world.
You glance over your shoulder, offering a small smile. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Zuko is already sitting up, eyes fixed on you.
“You didn’t,” he says, though his gaze lingers a second too long. “You’ve been waking up early.”
You hesitate.
Just for a second.
It’s enough.
He stands, crossing the room toward you with quiet determination.
Even now—barefoot, hair slightly messy, no crown or armor—there’s something steady and grounding about him.
Something that makes it harder to hide things.
“You’re tired,” he says.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not,” he replies immediately, stopping in front of you.
His voice isn’t harsh—it never is with you—but it’s firm.
Certain.
“You’ve been different for days.”
Your fingers curl slightly in your robe. “I didn’t want to worry you,” you admit quietly.
His expression tightens—not in anger, but something deeper.
“You don’t get to decide that for me,” he says, softer now. “If something’s wrong, I need to know.”
Your hand moves again, resting against your stomach without thinking.
His eyes drop instantly.
Of course they do.
He notices everything about you.
“…Is it something serious?” he asks, tension creeping into his voice. “Did you see the healers?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
You draw in a slow breath.
Your heart starts to pound—not from fear, but from the weight of the moment.
“…Zuko,” you murmur, “I need to tell you something.”
His entire posture shifts.
You can see it—the way his shoulders stiffen, the way his mind is already racing ahead to every worst possibility.
“I’m pregnant.”
Silence.
For a moment, it’s like the world itself pauses.
Zuko just stares at you. “…What?” he breathes.
“I’m pregnant,” you repeat, softer this time.
His lips part, but no words come out.
You’ve seen him face down armies.
Stand up to his father.
Challenge the world itself.
But this?
This leaves him completely still.
“…You’re sure?” he finally asks, voice barely steady.
You nod. “The healers confirmed it yesterday.”
A flicker crosses his face—something like guilt. “…Yesterday,” he echoes.
“I wanted to tell you properly,” you say gently. “Not in between meetings or when someone could interrupt.”
His jaw tightens slightly.
Not at you—never at you.
At himself.
“I should’ve been there,” he mutters.
“You are here now,” you remind him softly.
That pulls his attention back to you.
And then, slowly—almost cautiously—he lowers himself in front of you.
The Fire Lord… kneeling.
For you.
“…Can I?” he asks, glancing at your stomach like it’s something sacred.
Your chest aches at the uncertainty in his voice.
You take his hand and guide it to your stomach.
The moment his palm rests against you, his breath catches.
Sharp.
Like the reality of it just hits him all at once.
“…There’s really…” he murmurs.
“There’s really,” you confirm softly.
He doesn’t move.
Doesn’t pull away.
His hand stays there, warm and steady, like he’s afraid if he lets go, it might disappear.
“I’m going to be a father,” he says, almost to himself.
You smile faintly. “Yeah.”
There’s a long pause.
Then suddenly—
“Are you okay?” he asks, looking up at you quickly. “Have you been feeling sick? Are you getting enough rest? Did the healers say everything’s normal? Is there anything you need—”
You can’t help the soft laugh that escapes you. “Zuko.”
He stops, blinking.
“Breathe,” you say gently, squeezing his hand.
He exhales, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
You tilt your head slightly. “You didn’t know what you were doing when you became Fire Lord either.”
“That’s different.”
“Is it?”
He hesitates.
Then, quieter—“…This matters more.”
Your heart softens instantly.
You reach down, guiding him up from where he’s kneeling until he’s sitting beside you instead.
“You don’t have to know everything,” you tell him. “We'll figure it out together. Like always.”
His gaze searches yours—like he’s looking for doubt.
He doesn’t find any.
“…Together,” he repeats.
You place his hand back over your stomach.
This time, he leans into it.
Careful.
Protective.
Already there.
“I’m going to keep you safe,” he says, voice firmer now. “Both of you.”
You smile softly. “You already try to.”
“Not like this,” he says.
There’s something new in his tone—resolve, edged with something deeper. “This is different.”
It is.
You both feel it.
Not just Fire Lord and consort.
Not just rebuilding a nation.
Something… more.
“Are you scared?” you ask quietly.
He doesn’t answer right away.
“…Yeah,” he admits finally.
You nod. “Me too.”
And somehow, that makes it easier.
The silence that follows isn’t heavy anymore—it’s shared.
You lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder.
His arm comes around you instantly, pulling you closer like it’s instinct.
Like it’s already changed him.
After a while, his thumb begins tracing slow, absent patterns over your hand.
“…Do you think they’ll have your patience?” he asks.
You smile. “I hope so.”
“…Or your ability to put up with me,” he mutters.
You huff a quiet laugh. “That takes practice.”
He lets out a soft breath—something almost like a laugh—and presses a warm kiss to your temple. “Then we’d better start teaching them early.”
You close your eyes, letting yourself relax fully against him.
For once, he doesn’t pull away.
Doesn’t get called back to duty.
His hand stays anchored over your stomach, like he can’t quite believe it’s real.
Like he doesn’t want to let go.
“…I think,” he says after a while, voice softer now, “I finally understand what Uncle meant.”
You glance up slightly. “About what?”
He looks at you—and then down at where his hand rests. “About building something better.”
Your chest tightens.
Because this isn’t just about the Fire Nation.
Not really.
It’s about this moment.
This life.
This future that’s finally yours to shape.
You reach up, cupping his face gently, pulling him into a slow, lingering kiss.
It’s warm.
Steady.
Full of everything you don’t need words for.
When you pull back, his forehead rests against yours, his eyes closing briefly.
“…We’re really doing this,” he whispers.
You smile, your hand covering his.
“Yeah,” you murmur. “We are.”
And for the first time in a long time—The future doesn’t feel uncertain.
ꮼ firelord!zuko has a special way to relieve his stress
ᦸ unprotected sex ⸝⸝ p in v ⸝⸝ pet names ⸝⸝ cervix kissing ⸝⸝ husband! zuko is sweet with it ⸝⸝ creampies ⸝⸝ a sprinkle of aftercare.
"Fuck. There's my sweet girl." Zuko rasped out, his face kissing your neck with one needy thrust, burrowing to the hilt. "You don't know how much I needed this."
His long hair draping over you both as he sucked softly on your skin was a feeling you'd grown fond of each night when he came to bed.
"My poor baby—fuck, slow down," you gasped, thighs twitching around his hips, nails digging into his back instinctively as he tried to move. "Do you want to talk about what's got you so upset?"
"Got a little pissed off at work; sorry—" he whispered, pulling his hips back with a groan, bangs brushing your forehead as he attempted to roll off of you. "—you okay? Fuck, I didn't mean to hurt you."
Just to be stopped by your legs quickly wrapping around his hips, holding him there.
Your fingers rubbed softly over his back. "Yes, yes. My love, I'm okay." You hummed, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheeks. "What happened at work?"
"Just people being arrogant." He groaned, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek in return. "It gets on my nerves more than I'd like to admit, and I'm sorry."
"Don't be, idiot," you hummed, knocking your heel teasingly against the small of his back. "I didn't say I didn't like it."
"Watch it." He mused, squeezing your hip just a little as his gaze softened. "Promise you're okay?"
"Baby, if I couldn't handle your size without being in pain, we wouldn't be married." You teased, wiggling your eyebrows as Zuko averted his gaze, a furious blush dusting his cheeks.
"That's so uncalled for, my love." He groaned, pressing his forehead to your shoulder. "A simple 'yes' or 'I promise' would have been fine."
"Well, I am okay; you just didn't give me time to adjust, and I thought for sure by now you'd know it takes a minute." You combed your fingers through his silky hair, pressing your lips to his temple, leaving quick kisses.
"What can I say? I feel your body and get greedy." He rasped, leaning into your touch, his strong arms wrapping around you. "Very greedy."
"Yeah? Then I think you'll be pleased to know you can move again." You whispered into his ear, teasingly nipping at the lobe before leaning back to rest against your pillows.
No words had ever sounded quite like heaven as those to Zuko's ears.
It took no time for him to give a testing thrust, grinning wildly at the desperate noise that escaped your lips.
"You're so pretty." He whispered, bringing a hand to cup your jaw as his thrusts turned relentless, white-hot pleasure drilling into you both with each brush of his blushing cockhead to your cervix.
It took a moment to speak, trying to steady your voice. "You're one to talk; look majestic up there."
"My love, you must be delirious. I'm sweaty and gross," he cooed, choking down a moan as you clenched around him, abs visibly tensing. "Oh, don't do that; this'll be over far too soon."
"It's sexy," you whined, clawing helplessly at his back. "Fuck. It's so sexy; you're an idiot if you think you aren't right now."
"My crazy wife," Zuko sighed, watching your eyes flutter as he quickened the pace of his hips. "I could be covered in dirt, and you'd still want me, wouldn't you?"
Your voice was barely cooperating, wavering heavily—showing off just how close you were. "Wouldn't you?"
"Find you sexy? Always, my love." He sighed, eyes fluttering as he leaned down to capture your lips with his. "Fuck, you're perfect."
"Zu," you gasped, arching against him, fingers digging into the hard muscles of his shoulder blades. "m'gonna—"
Zuko nodded, pressing a kiss to your jaw. "Me too." He admitted, hips stuttering against yours. "Fuck, my love, I'm sorry—"
Just as you felt your thighs spasming around his hips, the warm, fuzzy feeling of your orgasm ripped through you, clenching tightly around Zuko.
"Oh god—" you mewled, resting your palm flat on his back. "—you should never feel sorry. Ever again."
Zuko sighed as his orgasm hit, slowly pulling out & staring at the mess dribbling out, his lips finding your shoulder quickly.
"I can run you a bath, though, as a thank you, my love." He whispered, a hand intertwining with yours.
"Mm. Are you feeling better?" You squeezed his hand, your thumb rubbing the back slowly.
"Much better." He nodded, lying beside you as his messy hair spread behind you on the mattress.
"Then yes. I'll take you up on that bath, as long as you let me wash your hair." You hummed, bringing your free hand to toy with the damp strands before kissing his forehead. "Deal?"
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