t.w.: Soft Dark, Smut, Dub-con, breeding/pregnancy kink, Reader is pregnant, fingering, kidnapping, forced pregnancy, hints of Stockholm Syndrome, barely proofread (forgive me)
a/n: Please read all warnings before interacting with any of my works. 18+ Only!!!
Love at First Sight Masterlist
He’s been conditioning you. He revels in the way your thighs clench together whenever his hands wander over your body.
At first, he let you isolate yourself, keeping yourself in the bunk as he piloted the ship, letting you take the cot every night. He didn't even try to interact with you, keeping himself busy with the child, his bounties and credit collection.
He would allow you outside of the ship, trusting you to be completely alone with Grogu. He was surprised by how you never once triggered the tracker embedded on your bracelet. He didn't know you knew that he had modified a cattle tracker into a shiny golden pendant.
You'd woken up with it your first morning in the Razor Crest. The soft hum of it was hard to locate at first. You lacked the tools to deactivate them. You were as sharp as a whip with technology.
A skill you wouldn’t use in a long time since you were taken.
He had plans. He wanted to find a home planet. Preferably somewhere adequate to raise his children and continue his life with you. The holopad he conspicuously left out in the hull while he was out one evening was full of data files on hundreds of mid-rim planets.
Most of the planets he landed on were among those in the holos. They were safe, quiet, and isolated. Once you had found the pad, he checked which images you would stare at the longest, which descriptions you would read with rapt attention.
He shakes his head remembering the first thing you did with the holopad. Immediately locating the communications feature and finding it disabled, the transmitter chip at the back of the device thoughtfully missing.
He would watch as you would glance outside of the ship, your stare would wander often when the ramp was open. You clearly had a preference. Your eyes would glimmer in regions with cooler temperatures, lots of trees, deciduous and changing with the seasons.
You dozed off to the soft sounds of animal chirps and rainfall when he would leave for a bounty.
By the fifth month of your Razor Crest residency, he lost his patience. He thought finding a planet would come easier. Some were perfect but the people were too hostile. For some, the people were peaceful but the planet was too unpredictable.
He was tired of your lack of communication. The moment you were alone with him, the room grew deadly silent. The only sounds that would react to him were of Grogu, coincidentally the only person you willingly interacted with.
Despite this, you were still pliant. Your pregnancy had made you sick early on. He’d make you food, soothe your back, bring you ginger tea and other higher quality rations he’d use extra credits on to make sure you were comfortable.
He started to condition you to get used to his presence; the way he could make you feel. If only you would give him easier leverage.
You would often hear him pleasuring himself, murmuring about how you looked so beautiful carrying his child. How you would look so pretty all cock-dumb and fucked out over his bed in a real home.
You would try to sleep after, but you couldn’t help but think of the way wetness dampened your underwear and how a part of you thinks back on how he pleased you back in your home. Before you realized his plan to take you.
You’d stare half awake at the panels above you. Shifting uncomfortably against the small bunk that only seemed to get smaller as your belly grew.
He broke the silence one day as he was making portions. He stated how he had enough credits to buy an isolated cottage near farmland, of which planet, he didn’t say. Sleeping Grogu was taken out of your arms and tucked into his metal bassinet. With a press of a button it was closed shut, leaving you alone with 'Din'.
You'd spoken directly to him a couple of times since your kidnapping. He revealed his name to you the day you had woken up. Despite your anger, the fear, and the desperation to be free, you often caught yourself thinking of it.
Who would have known a bounty hunter to have such a simple name. You loathe the fact you would have chuckled in any other circumstance.
You blinked up at him in confusion as the baby's pram closed shut. He sighs wistfully. As he sat down on the blankets and pillows he set up on the floor as a makeshift common area in the Crest, he reached for your hand.
You let him pull you down against him. He’s strong enough so that he could position you any way he wants without your assistance. He pulls his helmet off, the magnetic connection between it and his flightsuit hisses as it deactivates. He motions for you to pick up the plate of food he set on the small wooden tea table he had found in a market somewhere.
“We’ll be home soon,” he soothes as you eat slowly in his lap, pieces of his armor digging into your body. His cuirass was cold behind you, making you shiver.
You look back at him, eyes blank. He just smiles and caresses your cheek briefly with a swipe of his thumb, a slight chuckle escaping him at your ‘pout’. His hands skim over your tunic and stop on the swell of your belly, lightly tracing it up and down with the tips of his fingers.
He cups the underside of the bump, his nose pressing against the side of your neck.
Your defeat was present from the beginning. You never fought back, barely argued. Things couldn't have gotten much worse than life in your village, barely able to make it through a work shift without passing out from dehydration or starvation.
Chills run down your spine and goosebumps start to rise. He holds you against his chest for a couple of minutes, urging you to continue eating. Breathing in the scent of your hair and lightly caressing your belly.
Then his hands move further down to caress over your mound, you shiver. A shot of pleasure goes up your spine. He continues to ‘accidentally’ rub against you in between his praises of how well of a mother you’ve been, especially to Grogu, whenever he was gone.
You were throbbing by the time you were done with the portions, mumbling that you were full to excuse yourself away from the table.
That prompted him to ask you to feed him spoonfuls in return. He didn’t want to put anything to waste. It felt very intimate, especially with the way he loudly chewed next to your ear and groaned as if he were eating something gourmet, almost mimicking the sounds he made when he last had you in your bedroom back in your home planet, his mouth to your cunt.
The baby gave a sudden cry in his pram, you were grateful for the respite, especially as Din was starting to graze over your inner thighs to spread them. You excuse yourself to the restroom and curse yourself. It was the hormones, it had to be. You shouldn’t be this affected by his gentle touches otherwise.
He’s been doing the same technique for a little over a month afterwards. Grazing over your ass as he walked by, ‘accidentally' cupping your breasts and lightly squeezing as he mewled over your bump. Having you sit over his erection whenever you ate 'together' and the baby was napping in his soundproofed pod.
You hate the way your body responds to a simple touch on the shoulder and jumps to imagining him thrusting into you against the side of the hull.
It gets worse when you are finally 'home'. He was able to get his hands on a small cottage. It was far from the other housing units in the town, not quite secluded but not as neighborly. Despite the isolation, he didn’t allow you to even step outside the door. He said it was too dangerous.
You questioned him, considering you were a long way from other people. He never answered. Instead, he would hold you close to him and reassure you that it was safer for you and the baby.
Grogu was off to school, taken by his father almost every day. He wasn’t fussing constantly over him.
The one positive from being stuck ‘home’ was that he was barely there. You rarely had moments where he would make you want to rip his armor off and feel his skin on yours like the months before.
You had more time for yourself. To acclimate to the sudden shift in your center of gravity as your seventh month of your unexpected pregnancy began.
He was often away to earn credits working odd jobs. He'd leave you with the promise that soon, if you complied instead of ignoring all of his advances at becoming a family, you too would accompany him out one day.
He didn’t like the idea of keeping you as if you were a nanny to his children. Just a doll he could stare at and fondle. It was unbecoming of him and yourself.
But because you were currently pregnant and you didn’t reciprocate his kisses and affection, he thought it was best to keep you where you were. You had enough time alone to think about ways to escape, but with your growing condition the thought was dissipating quickly. You felt tired, nauseous, heavy. Your feet were swollen and even thinking of the months to come made you dread even thinking of being alone. In some sick way the bastard has debilitated you in this form.
Though that didn’t stop him from praising you. He likes to watch as you start to waddle around, chasing after his son, now yours, and play with him. Pride surges in his chest when he watches Grogu pat your stomach in question and you softly explain how there was a tiny person growing inside.
“The villagers have been asking for you,” he says one night, his shoulder leaning against the doorway to the restroom as you apply cream to your face in front of the mirror above the sink.
You hum absentmindedly, looking anywhere but the reflection as he steps closer behind, wrapping his arms around you.
“Is that so?” you question sarcastically. He ignores your tone.
“Mm.” He slumps over you, resting his head on top of yours. His eyes lower to your stomach and his brows furrow.
Skimming past your third trimester you outgrew all of your old clothes, including those of the man behind you. His stare made you fidget. You feel embarrassed as you try to tug the tunic as far down as it can go. A sliver of your skin still peaks through.
Tears well and blur your vision, you try to look away from his now worried gaze. Your hands move to cover your face as sudden emotion floods through your body, an unstoppable wobble from your lips gives you away. He stops your hands from hiding your face quickly, asking you what was wrong.
“My clothes don’t fit,” you whine. You think of how stupid you must sound. The way you could be thinking of many other worse things that he’s done to you, and you think to complain about this.
“I’m so big. I'm just so...,” you sigh weakly, hands fluttering over your body in an exasperated gesture. His grip tightens on your hands reassuringly and he presses a kiss to the side of your head.
He’s always liked his women with meat on their bones. He liked the thought that your body was changing because of him. Seeing you now, insinuating that you're not the most beautiful creation the maker has ever made, made his eyes twitch in irritation. Not at you, of course, but of the way you view yourself, of how people may have led you to believe.
In his culture women are respected as if they were goddesses. They are the foundations of their kind. Seeing you now look at yourself in disdain made him feel like a failure. He failed to take care of you as a spouse should.
All because he never touched you properly, fully and with his full intentions, he thinks. He's teased you for months, never going farther than a few raunchy touches.
He kisses up your neck and you freeze. His hands wander downward, under your stretchy maternity pants and underwear. His hand was so large that you could see it straining the seams of your pajamas.
“You’re beautiful,” he says as he flicks his wrist to palm over your mound, grinding it against you. You gasp as he continues, watching over you through the mirror as you twitch and lean your back further into his chest.
You sigh shakily as he inserts a thick finger inside of you. Then another as your eyes close shut tightly. The sound of your slick cunt resounds around the small room, your hand makes its way behind his head, pushing his mouth against your neck and shoulder.
He nips and sucks, groaning as he feels your walls squeeze around him. His palm grinds down harder, a quicker rhythm that makes his hand sticky with your arousal. He presses his pelvis forward, allowing you to feel the outline of his cock against the plushness of your ass.
He brings you to climax easily. Your legs threaten to collapse but he catches you.
The rest of the night he praised your body, your caring personality. Often mentioning how you would be such a caring mother to your next child and children.
You were barely awake and on the verge of passing out. You felt as if you exerted yourself trying to keep up with his burning touches. You don’t think you’ve ever been cared for as much as you have been with him.
“Tomorrow we’re going into town to get tunics.”
He presses himself against your back maneuvering a pillow under your body which lays on its side.
He finally presses a kiss to your lips as he pushes a strand of hair from your face. He smiles as he sees you respond back weakly, your eyes closed and lips slack in a light pucker.
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I'll upload parts every Wednesday! Next one will have actual full-length smut. I'm a tease, I suppose.
('island breeze and lights down low.' — part three. Part one here.)
adult fire lord zuko x fire lady firebender reader | mdni.
summary: in which a guardian spirit needs help, the fire lord gets distracted at the worst possible moment, and the gaang spends one last night on whaletail island proving exactly why nobody should ever let them compete against each other.
content: adult!fire lord zuko x fire lady!firebender reader, established marriage, featuring the gaang (+suki obvi), humor, element bending (sokka keeps backbending duh), action/adventure, spiritual shenanigans, minor injury, alcohol mention, suggestive jokes, suggestive content, excessive gaang chaos at a festival, post-war, fluff.
note: pls ignore any accidental lore inconsistencies, i had to fill some restoration era/island worldbuilding gaps with my own interpretations hehe. i did have more time to write this and got super inspired, not proofread tho. all hail the whaletail hooks champions. ♡
𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
The two Air Acolytes led the way along a narrow path cut into the western cliffs.
As the group descended, the warmth drifting from the festival gave way to something cooler and damp. Mist clung thicker between the rocks. Far below, waves crashed against the base of the cliffs with enough force to send vibrations through the ground beneath your feet.
Even Sokka had fallen unusually quiet.
The acolytes carried small, hooded lanterns whose light bounced across the path, but the deeper they moved into the cliffs, the less useful the flames seemed to become. Shadows stretched strangely between the rocks, swallowing whole sections of the trail before giving them back.
Zuko’s hand brushed yours. Your fingers found his without a second thought.
“So much for a peaceful evening.”
You glanced toward him.
“We had almost an entire day.”
“A personal record.”
You smiled sideways. His thumb brushed once across the back of your hand.
“You alright?”
You squeezed his hand.
“Are you?”
“Ask me again after we deal with the potentially angry spirit.”
“Fair.”
The entrance to the caverns appeared. A jagged opening split the cliff face, half-hidden behind curtains of moss and mineral-stained stone. Ancient carvings framed the archway, worn smooth by centuries of salt and wind. Some of them looked damaged.
Zuko slowed. You watched his head follow a fracture running directly through one of the carvings.
Fresh damage.
The older acolyte noticed where he was looking.
“We found that three weeks ago.”
Zuko crouched beside the broken stone, brushing his fingers over the cracked surface.
“Construction tools.”
The acolyte nodded.
“The lower harbor expansion team broke through part of the outer tunnels.”
Aang frowned.
“They continued working after finding a shrine?”
The younger acolyte exchanged a glance with his companion.
“We don’t know if they understood what they’d found.”
“Someone should have,” Katara said.
Toph stepped past them and pressed her bare foot against the stone floor near the entrance.
“What?” Suki asked.
Toph remained still for another second.
“The island feels wrong.”
Toph tilted her head.
“Not dangerous wrong…,” she said before she pointed deeper into the darkness. “Something’s moving underneath us.”
Somewhere beyond the reach of the firelight, water echoed through the caverns. The sound disappeared before anyone could identify it.
Sokka cleared his throat.
“Just to check, are we absolutely sure this isn’t one of those situations where the Avatar goes in alone while the rest of us wait somewhere safe?”
“No,” Aang said.
Sokka sighed.
“That’s what I was afraid of….”
A smile tugged at your mouth as you followed the others toward the entrance.
Darkness swallowed the group. The cavern widened into a network of natural tunnels carved through black volcanic stone. Moisture gleamed along the walls wherever the acolytes’ lights reached, turning the rock slick and reflective. Narrow streams threaded through the floor in shallow channels, disappearing beneath arches worn smooth by centuries of flowing water.
The festival felt far away now. Only the occasional distant boom of drums reached the tunnels, muffled beyond layers of stone and earth.
The older acolyte led you deeper.
“We found signs of the missing acolytes near the central shrine chamber.”
“How often do people come down here?” you asked.
“Less than they used to, Fire Lady,” the younger acolyte admitted. “Mostly for meditation and maintenance of the old shrines.”
The tunnels curved, and after a few minutes of walking, the first shrine appeared. At least what remained of it.
Ancient carvings also covered the walls around a circular alcove carved directly into the stone. Offerings sat scattered across the floor: broken shells, faded prayer ribbons, small ceramic bowls overturned beside the water.
One of the braziers had been knocked onto its side.
Katara crouched beside it.
“This wasn’t weather.”
“No it wasn’t,” Aang agreed.
Toph moved farther into the chamber.
“Someone came through here recently.”
“Can you tell who?” Sokka asked.
“No.” She frowned. “Too many footprints. But they’re not all old.”
Your eyes drifted toward the water running through the center of the room.
Something moved.
You blinked.
The current flowed steadily beneath the shrine before disappearing through a narrow opening farther ahead.
Beside you, Zuko stopped walking.
“You saw that too?”
You felt a chill slide unexpectedly down your spine.
“Yeah.”
Across the chamber, Katara straightened. “I thought it was a reflection.”
Aang looked between all of you.
“What reflection?”
Before anyone could answer, something echoed through the tunnels. It wasn’t precisely a voice; it sounded like several voices speaking at the same time underwater.
The sound traveled through the cavern for only a few seconds before fading back into the darkness.
Sokka immediately moved closer to Suki.
“Nope.”
“Sokka—”
“No. Absolutely not. Everyone heard that.”
“I heard it,” Katara admitted.
“Me too,” Zuko said.
Toph crossed her arms. “I felt whatever made it.”
The two acolytes exchanged visibly nervous glances, but neither looked surprised.
Aang’s expression grew more serious.
“That’s new, isn’t it?”
The older acolyte nodded.
“Yes…”
Farther ahead, somewhere deeper in the cavern network, water splashed.
The sound came again.
The older acolyte’s shoulders tightened. “The central shrine is this way.”
The group moved deeper into the tunnels, following the narrow water channels winding through the stone. Suddenly, Aang stopped.
The group nearly walked into him.
“What is it?” Katara asked.
Aang frowned toward the darkness ahead.
“I can feel something.”
Sokka pointed, instinctively dropping into a low stance and sidestepping so he was pressed shoulder-to-shoulder with Suki. “Great. That’s the exact sentence nobody wants to hear in a cave!”
“It doesn’t feel angry,” Aang said slowly. “Just… confused.”
The tunnels opened abruptly into a much larger chamber. Several stone pillars rose from the water below, supporting a ceiling lost somewhere in darkness overhead. Ancient braziers lined the outer walls, all of them extinguished. At the center of the chamber stood a circular platform connected to the shore by a narrow stone bridge.
On the platform sat two figures. The missing acolytes.
“There!”
One of the missing acolytes looked up at the sound of their voices. Confusion crossed his face.
“Aang?”
The group hurried across the bridge. The two acolytes looked exhausted rather than injured. Their robes were damp from the cavern air and both seemed oddly unfocused, as though waking from a dream.
Katara knelt beside them once everyone reached them. “Are you hurt?”
The older of the two shook his head. “We don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so?” Sokka repeated.
The younger acolyte rubbed both hands across his face.
“We heard someone calling.”
Aang crouched beside him.
“Calling from where?”
The acolyte glanced toward the water surrounding the platform. “We couldn’t tell.”
A heavy ripple crossed the surface, and far beneath the dark water, something enormous shifted. It was massive enough that the entire pool seemed to displace around it, sending a wave breaking softly against the stone edges of the platform.
“Not a fish, guys…” Sokka stated, his voice dropping as he stared at the shifting shadows.
“Not even close,” you affirmed.
Small whirlpools appeared and vanished as the water grew restless beneath them, currents twisting in directions that made no sense. Reflections stretched strangely across the surface until the depths below began to glow.
Aang stepped closer to the edge as the water below began to glow.
Thin strands of pale blue light drifted beneath the surface like threads caught in a current. More appeared later, winding between the submerged pillars and ruined carvings revealed beneath the pool.
The light started to gather.
The missing acolytes exchanged nervous glances.
“That’s what we saw,” one of them whispered.
The glow brightened.
“What on earth is going on?” Sokka asked.
A shape emerged beneath the water, large enough to wrap around the entire chamber. Then it vanished again beneath the currents.
Your breath caught.
The water churned violently as the massive shape began to rise.
In response to its approach, all the ancient carvings lining the chamber walls began to glow, pale blue symbols awakening one after another beneath centuries of dust and mineral stains. Light spread across the stone until the entire shrine seemed illuminated from within.
Aang stared, recognition flickering across his face. “I don’t think it’s trying to hurt anyone.”
The words had barely left his mouth when the spirit finally surfaced, breaking the plane of the dark water.
Its massive head and upper body rose high above the pool, resembling a sea serpent woven from moonlit water and living coral. Luminous markings flowed across its body like moving constellations while translucent fins drifted around it in slow, graceful motions. Pieces of ancient shells and polished stone hung suspended among the currents surrounding it, orbiting the spirit as though caught in its presence.
It was beautiful. And at the same time, deeply, unmistakably distressed.
Sokka blinked twice.
“Wait…”
Nobody looked away from the spirit.
“Can everybody see that?”
“Yes, Sokka,” Katara answered.
“Isn’t that… a bit weird?” Suki asked exactly what was on your mind.
“Yeah, because usually when Aang says spirit, half the time the rest of us are staring at a wall,” Sokka said.
“This place is a spirit crossing,” Aang explained while his gaze remained fixed on the creature. “Some places exist closer to both worlds than others. The shrine was built on one of those places. Whatever happened here weakened the boundary. That’s why everyone can see it.”
The spirit’s luminous eyes swept across the chamber, its gaze settling on each of you in turn.
“… should we bow?” Sokka asked.
“We should shut up,” Toph replied.
“It’s hurting,” Aang realized out loud. “The damage to the outer tunnels... it's tearing at the spirit itself.”
A low call echoed from its throat, rolling through the cavern like a mournful song and raising goosebumps along your arms.
In response, every stream feeding into the shrine surged. Light flashed violently around the spirit as the water churned beneath it.
Toph’s head snapped upward. “Aang.”
The warning in her voice made everyone turn.
Cracks splintered through the stone beneath your feet. The spirit cried out once more, and the entire pool erupted. The water around its body surged outward in a violent ring that slammed against the surrounding pillars hard enough to crack stone.
Toph reacted instantly as both hands struck the platform.
Stone erupted upward around the outer supports, reinforcing pillars that had begun collapsing beneath the strain.
“I’ve got the ceiling!” she shouted through gritted teeth. “Somebody else deal with the angry water!”
The spirit cried out again. Every channel feeding into the shrine exploded at once.
A wall of seawater rushed through one of the side tunnels.
Katara spun toward it. Water rose around her in a sweeping arc before colliding with the surge head-on. The impact sent spray crashing across the chamber.
A second torrent burst from another tunnel, then a third.
Aang’s expression sharpened. “It’s not attacking!” He lunged toward the center of the platform, air swirling around him in widening circles as he pushed back the worst of the flooding before it could reach the rescued acolytes. "Katara!"
"I know!" she redirected surge after surge, but every wave she turned aside was replaced by two more.
The spirit twisted beneath the water. One of the upper supports split apart, and chunks of stone rained toward the platform. Before the monks could even scramble to safety, another violent surge burst from the flooded channels. Katara spun toward the roar, water already rising in fluid, defensive arcs around her hands. But as the wave tore through the cavern passage, swelling nearly to the ceiling and carrying shattered stone and debris from deep within the shrine, her posture faltered.
"Too far!" she shouted over the din.
Aang’s head snapped toward her. The distance between them and the main tunnel was too great. Even if Katara managed to contain this wave, another massive surge was already swelling right behind it.
You moved before either of them could think.
Heat rushed through your arms, and a brilliant arc of fire erupted from your palms, instantly illuminating the dark, cavernous chamber. Beside you, Zuko stepped forward in perfect synchronization. No words were needed. Your twin streams of flame crossed over the rushing water and struck the oncoming wave head-on.
The collision was deafening. A massive wall of steam exploded upward in a roaring white cloud, instantly swallowing half the chamber and blinding everyone in a thick, hot fog.
Somewhere in the mist behind you, Sokka hacked and coughed.
"I can officially say this is the worst vacation I’ve ever been on!"
As if in response, another surge raced through the subterranean tunnels, and the spirit cried out in a piercing sound. With every pulse of light that raced through its body, the shrine answered with another violent tremor. Water crashed violently against the outer walls, making a massive support pillar groan under the pressure.
The pieces clicked together in your mind. You looked past the rushing water, peering through the hot haze toward the glowing fractures rapidly spreading through the ancient carvings.
"The channels!" you shouted, pointing through the haze. "Look at the channels!"
The luminous lines pulsing through the stone weren't fracturing at random; they were all converging directly toward the damaged section of the shrine, right where the construction crews had carelessly breached the tunnels.
Aang’s eyes widened in realization. "It’s trying to reach the breach."
A massive section of the ceiling groaned and collapsed near the outer edge of the chamber. Toph caught it mid-air before it could crush the bridge, stone grinding against stone as she grunted, forcing the shattered rock back up into the ceiling.
Could this mountain stop breaking while I'm holding it?!" Toph’s voice boomed from somewhere behind the fog. "I'm officially claiming this cave, and it's treating me terribly!"
"I’m pretty sure you can't just claim a cave, Toph!" Sokka shouted back. "Especially when the current landlord is a sixty-foot angry water dragon! Look at how mad it is, that is a high-risk investment!"
"Well, it's mine until we leave!" Toph’s face tightened, sweat beading on her forehead. "Okay, everybody move."
The sheer strain in her voice cut off any argument before it could start. The spirit cried out again, sending another violent tremor ripping through the flooded channels.
"Now would be great!" she barked.
"Everybody heard the terrifying earthbender!” Sokka shouted, needing no further encouragement. ”Move!"
The rescued acolytes scrambled toward the bridge, Suki moving to guide them. One of the older monks pointed toward a narrow, jagged fissure climbing upward along the far wall. "There’s another route! An old escape passage!"
"Take them!" Aang shouted.
Suki hauled one of the exhausted acolytes up by the arm. "Come on, keep moving!"
"What about you guys?" Sokka asked, lingering at the base of the trail.
Another sharp crack echoed overhead. Toph didn’t even glance at him, her arms rigid as she held the ceiling.
"I’m busy holding up a mountain, genius."
"Right." Sokka pointed dramatically at the rest of the group. "Don't die while I'm gone!"
"You say that every time," Katara shouted back.
"Because you keep almost doing it!"
With a sharp thrust of her jaw, Toph forced a section of stone aside to clear the upper tunnel's mouth. Sokka, Suki, and the acolytes vanished into the darkness just a heartbeat before a massive tremor rocked the cavern, sealing the opening firmly behind them.
The spirit surged forward, slamming its massive form directly against the flooded wall nearest the breach. The impact vibrated through the entire shrine.
Aang’s eyes tracked the movement. "There."
Katara turned. The glowing currents weaving through the water were no longer chaotic; they were all bleeding into the same fractured masonry.
"It wants something on the other side," you said.
"It has from the beginning," Zuko agreed, his eyes narrowing.
Another pulse of light raced through the ancient carvings. This time, the illumination didn’t scatter. It collided into a single trail that threaded through the walls, pointing straight into the heart of the collapsed ruins.
Aang stared at the glowing path, a look of profound understanding crossing his face. “It’s showing us where to go."
The spirit cried out once more. The anger and malice were gone, replaced by a sound that echoed through the cavern like a desperate, hollow plea.
Zuko stepped forward first, his hand automatically finding yours, his grip firm and grounding.
"Let's go," he said.
The spirit turned. For the first time since surfacing, it stopped its frantic circling. Its luminous eyes locked onto the dark, ruined tunnel ahead, waiting for you to follow.
"Toph…?" Katara asked, her voice tight with concern.
Another violent tremor rolled through the cavern before the question could fully leave her mouth. Toph slammed both hands harder against the vibrating stone beneath her feet. Fresh, crude pillars groaned upward from the floor, catching a sagging section of the ceiling just in time.
"I’m staying here," Toph grunted.
"Are you sure?" you asked.
"No," she shot back. "But if I leave, this place becomes a very wet tomb for all of us. Go find whatever that giant sea noodle is crying about."
Without wasting another second, the four of you plunged into the ruined tunnel, following the glowing currents into the dark.
The passage narrowed drastically. The ancient shrine had once ended at a solid stone wall, but the construction crews had blasted directly through it with ruthless efficiency. Jagged fractures split the surrounding rock, turning the corridor into a treacherous maze of broken masonry and splintered timber supports.
Katara guided a sphere of glowing water ahead of the group, illuminating the path with the pale light reflected from the spirit behind you.
"You’d think people would stop digging after hitting an ancient shrine," she sighed, stepping over a pile of loose shale.
"You’d think they’d stop after finding a giant warning carved into the wall," Zuko muttered.
Aang glanced back over his shoulder. "There was a warning?"
Zuko kicked aside a piece of rubble, pointing his torch toward a cracked stone marker half-buried in the debris. Even fractured, the old Fire Nation characters were unmistakable.
"Yeah," you added, stepping over a collapsed beam and brushing dust from your shoulder. "So someone ignored several very obvious signs…”
"Unfortunately, that seems to be one of humanity’s favorite hobbies," Aang said.
Ahead of you, the spirit’s luminous form rippled through the flooded channels flanking the path. Its massive, serpentine body passed silently beneath the water before vanishing around a sharp bend.
The deeper you pressed, the older the environment became. The modern tool marks vanished entirely, replaced by rough, ancient stone that predated the harbor above by generations. Intricate carvings began to emerge beneath centuries of mineral deposits: stylized waves, primitive fishing boats, and countless figures offering gifts to a long, majestic creature woven through every single scene.
You slowed down beside one of the murals, tracing the outline. "The spirit... it's a guardian."
"These are centuries old," Aang murmured, his fingers brushing the weathered stone. "Maybe older."
Katara looked around the vast tunnel. "The harbor was built around this place."
"Not the other way around," Zuko finished.
A distant, echoing cry cut through the damp air. The spirit's call carried less panic now, replaced by a demanding urgency.
"It's close," Aang said, quickening his pace.
The tunnel finally spilled out into a vast, cavernous chamber. Unlike the serene shrine behind you, this place had been desecrated. It was an active construction site. Shattered scaffolding leaned haphazardly against ancient murals, abandoned ropes hung like dead vines from the ceiling, and crates of excavation tools sat coated in a thick layer of dust.
But it was what stood at the dead center of the chamber that drew everyone's breath.
A massive stone disk, nearly as tall as a man, dominated the room. Ancient carvings spiraled across its surface in concentric rings, mirroring the stories on the walls: waves, boats, and offerings. But beneath the art there were names. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of them, carved into the stone.
The pale blue light pulsing through the shrine’s veins flowed directly into the base of the disk. Behind you, the spirit broke the surface of the dark water. For the first time since you had encountered it, the creature became completely, utterly still.
Slowly, the guardian lowered its massive head toward the stone.
Zuko circled the monument once before stopping abruptly. "Hold on."
Following his gaze, you noticed that the floor around the disk wasn't solid. A perfectly circular groove ringed the monument, branching outward into dozens of narrow, intricate channels carved directly into the bedrock, the exact same pattern you had seen illuminated throughout the outer shrine.
Katara frowned. "It’s connected."
"It was connected," Zuko corrected, crouching to sweep a thick layer of dust away from the base.
Something emerged beneath the grime: blackened stone and ancient scorch marks.
Aang’s eyes widened. "Fire."
Four shallow basins sat evenly spaced around the monument’s base. Time and neglect had nearly hidden them, but their purpose was now obvious: they were ancient braziers.
The spirit released another low, prompting call.
"This wasn’t just a memorial," Aang realized, stepping back to take in the scale of the room.
"The shrine's energy grid ran through here," you said. "The excavation breach cut it off."
"And whatever connection existed between the guardian and the shrine went with it," Zuko finished.
Another violent tremor rolled through the chamber. Far behind you, back toward the main shrine, the stone groaned under the sheer force of Toph’s bending. Time was running out.
Aang didn’t hesitate. "Can you relight them?"
Zuko was already moving. Golden fire bloomed from his fingertips, pouring into the nearest basin. For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then, a carved channel flashed to life. Light raced across the floor, and the spirit stilled, a flicker of hope rippling through its luminous markings.
But only a fraction of the network awakened. The light sputtered, then stopped.
Zuko frowned, his hands still smoking. "Not enough."
You looked toward the opposite side of the monument, eyeing the dark channels still waiting for power. Without a word, you stepped up to the second basin and thrust your hands forward.
Fire surged from your palms, igniting the ancient stone.
The response was immediate. Light exploded through the remaining channels, racing beneath the floor in branching rivers of gold and blue. The carvings surrounding the disk awakened one after another, illuminating centuries of forgotten names.
The entire chamber shuddered with a resonant shockwave of recognition. The spirit threw back its head and cried out. This time, the sound carried no pain. Only pure relief.
As the guardian’s cry faded, the light continued to pulse through the monument beneath your hands. The carved names shimmered in unison until the entire stone disk seemed to come alive, moving images shifting across its surface like a living tapestry.
Boats crossed rough, stylized seas. Families gathered along a primitive shore. The guardian glided protectively beneath the waves beside them. Generations blurred past in moments; harbors expanded and homes multiplied, yet through every shifting scene, one detail remained constant: at the dead center of the shrine sat a single, smooth piece of dark rock resting within a circular recess.
Then, the images turned chaotic. Carved workers appeared. Dust and explosions cracked through the ancient tunnels, causing a painted collapse. In the fray, the small dark rock tumbled free from its alcove, and a carved worker bent down to pocket it.
The image vanished. The chamber fell dark again, save for the baseline glow of the braziers.
Katara blinked into the sudden dimness.
"A centuries-old spiritual connection was shattered because someone picked up a shiny rock?"
Another tremor rolled through the chamber, and the guardian let out a deeply offended huff from the water.
"Apparently," you said, "yes."
Aang stepped closer, his fingers brushing the empty, circular recess at the center of the monument. "It wasn’t just a rock. It was the anchor for the connection."
Before anyone could reply, the floor lurched violently. A massive crack split across the chamber floor, and behind you, the guardian surged through the water again, its panic returning full force as chunks of stone began to rain down from the ceiling.
Aang moved closer to Katara, his hand settling instinctively at the small of her back as the cavern gave a terrifying heave.
"You okay?"
Katara nodded, bracing herself against him.
"I’m fine. But we need to find that rock, fast."
Above you, a massive section of the ceiling broke loose. Zuko moved instantly, a precise arc of fire bursting upward from his fist to shatter the falling boulder before it could crush anyone. Most of the debris exploded into harmless gravel, but a jagged fragment ricocheted off the wall and whipped past your face.
You hissed, instinctively pressing a hand to your cheek. It barely hurt, but when you pulled your hand away, your fingertips were stained with a thin line of blood.
Zuko saw it, and the remaining color drained from his face.
"That's it," he said, his voice cutting sharply through the roaring cavern. "We're done."
A tremor rolled beneath your feet, answered by a panicked cry from the guardian.
"We don't even know what we're looking for," Zuko continued, stepping between you and the falling dust. "This place is collapsing, Toph is holding up half the island, and we're wasting time chasing a stone that could be anywhere in the harbor by now."
"Zuko—"
"No." For a split second, he looked every bit the Fire Lord you knew: measured, decisive, and entirely unyielding. But beneath it, he was terrified. "We leave. We evacuate the tunnels, and we come back with proper excavation crews after the festival."
The guardian let out another mournful, echoing wail. Aang’s shoulders sank; part of him knew Zuko was right. The spiritual memory had only shown a generic rock. No map, no location, no clue where the worker had taken it…
The floor shuddered violently again, throwing everyone off balance. You stepped closer to Zuko, grabbing his wrist.
"I’m fine."
"I can see that you’re not."
"It’s a scratch, Zuko."
"It’s still blood." His amber eyes finally met yours, dark with worry.
"We can’t leave," you urged softly, keeping your grip firm. "Not when we’re this close."
Aang looked over at Katara, his eyes dropping instinctively to her hand resting over her belly. "Zuko’s right…”
"Aang!" Katara and you shouted in unison.
"We can come back later and—"
Before Aang could finish, a small, loose piece of rubble tumbled from the damaged ceiling and bounced across the face of the monument. Everyone froze, watching it roll.
The stray pebble dropped neatly into the empty, circular recess at the monument's center.
The entire shrine flashed blindingly. A surge of brilliant blue light exploded through every carved channel in the room. The guardian froze mid-thrash. Just as suddenly as it had ignited, the light faded back into a dull simmer.
Katara blinked against the afterimages. "...Did anybody else see that?"
Aang stared at the completely ordinary piece of ceiling rubble now sitting inside the ancient monument. "It responded."
You looked from the stone to the spirit, noting how its luminous eyes remained locked entirely on the monument.
"It was never looking for a specific stone," you realized.
Zuko frowned, his defensive posture melting into confusion. "What?"
You stepped toward the pedestal. "The workers didn't steal some rare, sacred artifact. They just broke the physical circuit." You pointed to the recess. "The stone was never the magic part. It was just a weight."
Aang’s eyes widened as the spiritual logic clicked into place. "The stone was only a physical anchor for the ritual."
"The monument accepted a random piece of rubble, maybe it was just a rock," Katara said, tracing the glowing lines with her eyes. "But it didn't finish the connection."
"Because the stone isn't the important part of the bridge," Zuko added.
You looked between the pulsing channels and the restless spirit, the logic clicking into place. "The stone can hold the physical circuit open... but it doesn't have the spiritual energy to actually link the two worlds back together."
Aang stepped forward, the blue light of the channels reflecting in his eyes as the guardian’s markings flared with sudden, brilliant intensity. He looked at his own glowing hand, understanding his unique responsibility.
"It needs a direct conduit," Aang said softly, the weight of his duty settling over him. "The Avatar is."
The ordinary piece of rubble still sat nestled in the center of the monument, pulsing faintly beneath the network of illuminated channels.
"Everybody back," Aang commanded.
As the floor gave another violent lurch, Aang stepped forward and pressed his palm flat against the stone.
A brilliant wave of energy raced beneath his hand, surging outward through the entire chamber like a physical pulse. Ancient symbols blazed to life across the cavern walls. The fractured lines running through the shrine filled with a blinding, cohesive light, sealing the cracks not with stone, but with pure, ancient energy.
The guardian froze. The tremors stopped.
A heavy, absolute silence crashed through the cavern so abruptly it felt louder than the chaos had been. The frantic, pained movements vanished entirely. A profound sense of relief settled over the creature.
A massive chunk of the ceiling broke loose, plunging toward them. Katara grabbed your sleeve, yanking you backward.
"Move!"
Nobody argued. The four of you pivoted and sprinted back through the unstable tunnel. Behind you, the guardian’s radiant glow poured through the newly restored shrine network, chasing away the oppressive darkness that had filled the depths of the island for days.
Another rumble vibrated through the passage.
Aang vaulted cleanly over a fallen beam, while you ducked beneath a buckling support timber. Zuko caught your arm just in time, his grip tightening as he kept you from sliding across the slick, wet ground.
The four of you burst back into the central chamber. Toph was still standing exactly where you left her, holding half the mountain together through sheer, stubborn willpower.
Aang didn’t slow down.
"It’s over, Toph!"
Toph tilted her head, listening. The cavern had gone entirely quiet. The water no longer surged angrily against the masonry, and the spirit's mournful cries had ceased. For the first time since they had set foot in the shrine, the island felt completely still.
With a sigh, Toph immediately dropped her arms. "Great."
Everyone stared at her, stunned by the sudden release.
She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. "What?"
"You trusted us awfully fast," Zuko noted, wiping sweat from his forehead.
Toph shrugged casually.
"If it wasn’t fixed, I’d already be dead."
Zuko closed the distance between you. He reached out, his hand sliding over the curve of your waist to pull you securely against his side, anchoring you to him as if to assure himself you were safe.
"Can we leave now?" he asked, looking down at you.
"That's the most enthusiastic I've ever heard you sound about leaving somewhere," you teased.
A quick glance toward your cheek immediately wiped away his attempt at a smile. The tiny cut had already stopped bleeding, but Zuko's eyes lingered on it anyway.
You sighed. "I told you I'm fine."
"We'll discuss it later."
You narrowed your eyes. "We're not discussing a scratch."
"We are."
From a few paces away, Katara snorted.
"Good to know nearly dying changes absolutely nothing between you two."
Together, the five of you began the trek back through the tunnels. The suffocating, heavy atmosphere that had plagued the caverns had vanished. Clear water flowed peacefully through the ancient channels and the unsettling spiritual whispers were gone.
When you finally emerged from the mouth of the cavern, the cool evening air rushed over your skin like a breath of fresh air.
Below the jagged cliffs, Whaletail Harbor glittered with life. The world had continued turning while all of you were buried beneath it.
Sokka was waiting near the base of the trail alongside Suki and the protected acolytes. The second he spotted the group emerging from the rocks, he shouted.
"There they are!"
Toph strolled right to him, tapping his arm before grabbing it.
"Good news, Snoozles. The island isn't haunted anymore."
Sokka froze, his eyes widening. "The island was haunted?!"
The older acolyte stepped forward before anyone could continue down the trail. He looked back toward the towering cliffs, where the hidden shrine lay buried beneath layers of ancient stone and forgotten history.
He bowed. Not to Aang alone, but to all of you.
"Thank you."
The younger acolyte lowered his head in tandem. "The guardian protected this island long before any of us were here. We didn’t understand what was happening until it was nearly too late."
"You weren’t the only ones," Katara admitted, offering a reassuring smile.
The rescued acolytes exchanged a sheepish glance before one of them laughed softly, breaking the lingering tension.
"I think I owe an apology…”
Aang blinked, tilting his head. "For what?"
The acolyte rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks turning a bit pink.
“Well... when the voices first started echoing in the dark, I honestly thought I was achieving a higher state of spiritual enlightenment."
A surprised laugh rippled through the group, and even the older acolyte couldn't help but smile.
"We’ll make sure the harbor council knows exactly what happened here," the elder promised, his expression turning firm. "The excavation will be permanently halted."
"Good," Zuko said, his posture finally relaxing.
The acolyte nodded once in agreement. "And the breach will be repaired properly, with the respect the guardian deserves."
A sudden burst of celebratory music drifted from the harbor, accompanied by the faint scent of roasted street food. Sokka’s head snapped toward the noise, his eyes widening.
"Now..." he murmured.
Everyone recognized that dangerous look.
"Oh, no," Suki sighed, shaking her head.
"Oh, yes." Sokka spun around toward the vibrant, glowing waterfront. "We have already fought one ancient, terrifying force tonight!" He marched toward the path with absolute determination. "And now, we fight the long food lines. To the festival!"
𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚
The moment you stepped into the harbor, the festival seemed to swallow you whole.
Someone pressed a skewer of sizzling, grilled squid into Sokka’s hand before he could even ask what it was. Children darted between the stalls, carrying paper fish larger than their heads, while a woman balancing three heavy trays of candied fruit argued loudly with a merchant over prices. Nearby, a rowdy group of musicians had abandoned any attempt at a melody and were simply trying to play louder than one another. The air was thick and alive, Tangled with the rich scents of sea salt, charcoal, citrus, and fried dough.
As the crowd surged around you, you felt Zuko slow to a halt beside you. You paused too, the chaos a contrast to the damp silence of the caves.
The rest of the group continued several paces before Katara noticed the gap and glanced back.
"Hey. What’s wrong?"
You exchanged a hesitant look with Zuko. He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I don’t know if this is appropriate."
Aang blinked. "The festival?"
"All of this," Zuko said, gesturing vaguely toward the celebration.
"We’re supposed to be here officially representing the Fire Nation," you explained, shifting on your feet. "Not exactly running around playing games. Not that I dislike the idea, but..."
"After tonight..." Zuko looked toward the crowds gathering along the waterfront. "People heard of us dealing with the spirit. It feels strange to immediately show up here pretending we’re on a normal vacation."
Before anyone else could offer a profound philosophical rebuttal, Sokka wrapped a heavy arm around each of your shoulders, pulling you together.
"I completely understand," Sokka said.
You distrusted his tone.
"You do?"
"No." Sokka grinned, squeezing your shoulders. "But I think you’re both being ridiculous."
"Sokka—" Zuko started.
"Look, you are the Fire Lord and the Fire Lady," Sokka interrupted, counting on his fingers. "Very important. Extremely impressive. Lots of paperwork. I get it…”
"I hate where this is going," you muttered.
"...But you also just helped save the entire island," Sokka countered, pointing toward the buzzing docks. "These people are happy because of you."
Suki stepped up beside him, her smile warm.
"He’s right. They’re incredibly grateful. And honestly? I think it’s good for them to see these leaders enjoying the same evening they are."
Katara nodded in agreement. "It reminds everyone that you’re still human."
"And it’s healthy to take a breath," Aang added with a smile.
Toph smirked, leaning casually against a nearby wooden pillar.
"World leaders. Can’t even have a good time without somebody giving them permission first…”
"That’s not true," Aang protested.
Katara raised an eyebrow. "Aang."
"...Okay, fair," the Avatar mumbled.
You laughed, and the sound seemed to break the last of Zuko's hesitation. He let out a quiet breath, a genuinely relaxed expression finally washing over his face as he bumped his shoulder playfully against yours.
"If you put it that way..." Zuko conceded.
"Fantastic!" Sokka announced, clapping his hands together. "No more responsible thoughts. Let’s get into festival mode!”
Before either of you could regret it, he gave you both a firm shove forward into the heart of the crowd.
𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊
The harbor opened up around you in a blur of motion and color. Brightly painted stalls lined the cobblestone walkways, and dancers spun gracefully beneath strings of paper lanterns. The irresistible aromas of grilled fish and sweet, spiced pastries made your stomach growl almost instantly.
Within minutes, the group naturally fractured. Aang and Katara wandered off toward a shop selling handmade woodcarvings and painted souvenirs. Sokka caught the scent of roasted meats and vanished without a trace, Suki following close behind with a look of affectionate resignation. Toph somehow acquired a local drink almost immediately and was already deep in conversation with a burly fisherman who looked completely unprepared for whatever she was telling him.
For the first time all evening, it was just the two of you.
The joyous noise of the festival swirled around you like a warm breeze. You glanced up at Zuko. "Okay."
"Okay?" he asked, tilting his head.
"We’re having fun…”
A soft smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "That is the current plan."
"Good…”
"But not too much fun," he added, a familiar seriousness creeping back into his voice.
You laughed, shaking your head.
"There he is."
"Who?"
"The Fire Lord, of course."
"I am attempting to enjoy myself."
"You look like you’re scheduling it in a ledger."
His offended expression only made you laugh harder. Seeing his chance, Zuko reached out, his hand slipping smoothly into yours. His grip was warm and grounding.
You looked down at your joined hands, a sudden idea striking you, and let go.
Zuko froze, his hand hanging empty in the air.
"...What?"
You took one careful step backward into the crowd.
"Maybe we shouldn’t."
His eyebrow shot up.
"What do you mean?"
"Because..." you said thoughtfully, trailing off as suspicion flashed across his face. You pointed past him toward a lively stall at the far end of the harbor, where darts were flying through the air. "Last one to the prize games has to pay for Sokka's dinner!"
For half a second, Zuko simply stared, his brain catching up to the challenge. Then, you spun on your heel and bolted into the thick of the crowd, your laughter trailing behind you.
Behind you, a loud voice of complete, competitive disbelief echoed over the music.
"Oh, absolutely not!"
A heartbeat later, the Fire Lord was chasing you through the festival.
The evening slipped away faster than any of you expected. One game became two. Two became five.
At some point Sokka won a stuffed turtle-duck the size of a small child. At another, Aang accidentally got talked into participating in a dance competition he hadn’t realized was a competition. Toph acquired a second drink and refused to explain where it came from.
By the time anyone thought to check the hour, the entire group had somehow reunited in front of a crowded prize stall near the center of the harbor.
“How did we all end up here?” Katara asked.
“Fate,” Sokka answered immediately.
The game itself was simple enough. Teams stood behind a painted line and tossed wooden rings toward a collection of moving targets mounted on spinning wheels.
Sokka appointed himself organizer.
"Alright!" he announced, clapping his hands together. "Teams!"
Before anyone could even think about objecting, his finger was already darting around the group.
"Me and the Fire Lady. Team One."
"What?" you said, catching the sudden smirk on Zuko's face out of the corner of your eye.
"Team Two: Aang and Zuko," Sokka continued without missing a beat.
Aang blinked, looking between Zuko and the game board. "Why?"
"Because it’d be funny," Sokka said honestly. He pointed again. "Katara and Suki, Team Three."
Suki shrugged, offering a cheerful high-five to Katara. "I'm in."
"And Toph—"
"I’m not playing," Toph interrupted, lifting her cup. "I just spent the last half hour holding up a collapsing cave."
"Fair point," Sokka conceded.
She took a sip.
“I deserve this drink."
The local fisherman next to her gave her a respectful nod.
"You absolutely do, little lady."
Toph beamed with pride, gesturing toward him with her cup.
"Finally, someone reasonable around here."
Katara sighed, watching her closely. "I think she’s getting tipsy…”
"I’m not tipsy," Toph scoffed, taking another long sip. "Though... the floor is vibrating weirdly."
"Toph, we’re standing on a wooden dock."
Toph paused. "...That actually explains a lot."
"Yeah," Katara murmured. "You’re tipsy."
Before the debate could continue, the stall owner cleared his throat loudly, crossing his arms over his apron.
"Are you guys playing or not?"
Everyone turned back to the booth. The man pointed proudly to a pair of heavy, brightly painted tin medallions hanging from thick red ribbons right at the center of the display. Stamped boldly into the metal were the words: Whaletail Hooks Champion.
Sokka’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, his competitive spirit completely taking over.
“Oh, we’re playing…”
The game turned out to be far more competitive than any festival attraction had a right to be.
Brightly painted wooden targets spun atop rotating wheels at varying speeds while players attempted to hook heavy rings around them from across the lane. Some moved unpredictably, jerking side to side, while others ducked behind wooden barriers before reappearing a few seconds later.
A sizable crowd had gathered quickly around the stall. Apparently, the locals enjoyed watching legendary world leaders become completely irrational over cheap prizes.
The first round went entirely to Katara and Suki. Katara landed three perfect, flowing throws in a row, while Suki cleanly sank four.
"How are you so good at this?" Aang asked, watching another ring slide perfectly onto a spinning peg.
Suki blinked at him, holding a fresh ring balance on her fingers.
"Aang, I throw razor-sharp fans for a living."
"Right. Good point."
The second round, however, belonged completely to Sokka. The moment the game shifted from raw aiming to strict timing, his inner war strategist activated.
"No, no, no, watch the pattern," Sokka muttered, grabbing your arm and forcing you to look at the wheels. "That blue one slows down every six rotations. It's a trap."
You stared at him.
"You counted the rotations?"
"I count everything," he said solemnly.
The ring left his hand with a sharp flick. A direct hit.
The crowd cheered, and you laughed, high-fiving him. "Okay, I have to admit, that was actually impressive."
"I know," Sokka said, basking in the glory.
Three throws later, Team One had climbed into second place. Across the lane, Zuko looked mildly offended by their sudden success.
"He’s actually good at this."
"You sound surprised," Suki observed, leaning against the counter.
"I am."
Sokka pointed a triumphant finger. "You hear that? The Fire Lord respects my athletic prowess."
"I didn’t say that…" Zuko shot back.
But as the next round began, Team Two started pulling ahead. Aang wasn’t bad, but Zuko was the real problem. His throws were precise, consistent, and annoyingly perfect. Every ring he released seemed to land exactly where he intended, his military discipline translating entirely too well to festival games.
"Again?" Katara complained as another target spun away carrying one of Zuko's red rings around its neck.
The scoreboard shifted:
Team One: 24
Team Two: 30
Team Three: 27
Sokka looked physically ill, clutching his stomach as he stared at the numbers.
"This is terrible. This is an absolute disaster."
"Sokka, we’re only losing by six points," you said, trying to re-anchor him to reality. "That’s not terrible."
"It is when Zuko starts getting confident," Sokka whispered.
Across the lane, Zuko accepted another ring from Aang. He rolled his shoulders, cracked his knuckles, and casually pushed his dark hair back from his face before landing another perfect throw. The crowd erupted into applause.
Sokka narrowed his eyes, leaning in close to you. "You see that?"
"What?"
"That! Right there."
You followed his intense gaze.
"Sokka, I have no idea what you’re talking about."
"The shoulder thing!" he hissed. "And the hair! Zuko’s been distracting you all night."
Katara nearly choked on her drink, bursting into a loud laugh, while Aang just looked lost.
Zuko, hearing his name, looked up with an expression of profound confusion.
"What are they talking about over there?"
"No idea," Aang admitted, tossing his next ring.
"Waving his hair around," Sokka continued his passionate rant to you, ignoring the other team entirely. "Cracking his knuckles. Lifting his arms."
You blinked, utterly baffled.
"Sokka... is he distracting me, or is he distracting you?"
Suki burst out laughing, and Toph, lounging comfortably on a nearby barrel with a local beverage in hand, pointed in Sokka’s direction.
"Honestly? At this point, I think he’s just distracting himself."
The crowd chuckled, but Sokka held up a hand, completely unfazed. He turned to you.
"My dear Fire Lady…”
"Oh no. Stop."
"…you are far too oblivious to his psychological warfare."
"I’m leaving this stall right now," you said, turning around.
"You can’t leave!" Sokka grabbed your sleeve. "We’re a team!"
Another ring landed across the lane. Another point for Team Two. The scoreboard updated after the turns:
Team One: 26
Team Two: 34
Team Three: 30
A heavy, grim silence fell over Team One. Sokka stared at the numbers, then at you, then back at the numbers. You recognized the plotting look in his eyes.
"No," you said firmly.
"I haven't even said anything!"
"You don't need to. I know you.”
"You could help us," Sokka pleaded, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You could help us more."
Across the lane, Zuko landed yet another throw, leaning against the wooden barrier with a small, smug grin. Sokka slammed both hands down onto the counter, throwing his head back in a theatrical groan of disbelief.
"There! That’s the problem. Think about it: he’s your husband…”
"We only need four points. You could easily get us four points!”
"Sokka, that’s cheating."
"It’s more like… romantic strategy."
You folded your arms, glaring at him. Sokka folded his arms right back, matching your stance.
"You want me to distract Zuko," you summarized.
"I want you to help your team."
"By distracting Zuko."
"By securing victory."
"Sokka."
"Look," he reasoned, gesturing dramatically toward the opposite side of the lane. "I’m telling you, it would only be fair. Remember when he beat you at the games on Ember Island?"
The mention of Ember Island brought your entire train of thought to a grinding halt. The memory flashed in your mind: Zuko gloating over a trivial victory, refusing to let it go for days.
"He didn’t deserve that win, did he?" Sokka pressed. "You were doing way better."
"I was doing better," you murmured, your own competitive instincts suddenly flaring to life. "The wind caught my last throw…”
"Exactly! I knew it!" Sokka encouraged. "So now, we need to win. For justice."
You looked toward the scoreboard. Then toward Zuko, who was casually spinning a ring on his finger, looking entirely too relaxed. Then back toward the scoreboard. Four points. Only four.
Sokka saw the exact moment your resolve crumbled. A massive, devious grin spread slowly across his face.
"There she is."
"Sokka, please, don't enable me..."
"There she is, I can see her! The true competitor!"
"No, she’s not here, she's being a responsible world leader..." you muttered, though your eyes were locked on Zuko. You sighed, letting your arms drop. "...Fine. One distraction."
Sokka gasped dramatically, Suki covered her face to hide her grin, and Katara started laughing in anticipation.
"You are never allowed to complain about cheating ever again," you warned Sokka, reaching up to casually loosen and rearrange your hair.
"I won’t," he promised.
"You absolutely will."
"That’s future Sokka’s problem."
You shook your head, stepped out from behind your counter, and crossed the lane. The moment Zuko noticed you approaching.
"I already know Sokka sent you," he said as you stopped right beside him.
"Why would you think that?" you asked, tilting your head innocently.
"Because you’re on the losing team."
The word ‘losing’ immediately irritated something deep inside you, dragging your mind straight back to his smug face on Ember Island. Your competitive edge sharpened.
"We’re not losing."
His gaze drifted pointedly toward the scoreboard, a tiny smirk playing on his lips.
"We’re still ahead.”
The stall owner handed him a fresh, painted ring. Zuko rolled the heavy wood thoughtfully between his fingers, rolling his shoulder back.
"If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to secure this victory."
You smiled. "Of course."
Zuko narrowed his eyes. Experience had taught him that a smile that gentle from you never meant anything good. "Of course?" he repeated.
"Of course."
His suspicion doubled. You folded your hands behind your back.
Across the board, the wooden target rotated into view. Zuko lifted his arm, setting his stance into a perfect, practiced military position.
You looked him up and down thoughtfully.
“I just wanted to say... I really like that look on you."
His focus flickered. "What look?"
"The focused one…”
A few feet away, Sokka physically stopped breathing. Zuko snorted, fighting a grin as he kept his arm raised.
"That’s your strategy? Flattery?"
"No." You leaned in just a fraction closer, lowering your voice to a sultry whisper that only he could hear over the crowd. "All I’m saying is, it’s the exact same expression you make when you look up at me while your mouth is on my—"
The ring left his hand going completely sideways.
It missed the target, missed the rotating wheel, and missed the entire structure of the game stall. The ring sailed clean out of the booth, landing somewhere near a thoroughly confused person in the crowd.
Zuko froze, his arm still extended, his entire face flushing a deep, brilliant crimson that rivaled the Fire Nation banners.
Sokka exploded. "HE MISSED! THE FIRE LORD MISSED!"
The entire harbor seemed to hear him. Katara doubled over, clutching the counter as she gasped for air, while Suki nearly dropped her remaining rings from laughing so hard. Even Aang looked deeply impressed by the sheer trajectory of the fail.
Zuko slowly closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the flush remained on his cheeks, but his gaze locked directly onto yours.
"...You."
You bit the inside of your cheek to hide your grin.
"I’m really not sure what happened there, Zu. A sudden gust of wind, maybe?"
"You know exactly what happened."
"I was just making casual conversation."
Behind you, Sokka was practically doing a victory lap.
“LET'S GO TEAM ONE! THE COMEBACK IS REAL!"
"You haven’t won yet!" Zuko called out.
"We basically have!" Sokka shouted back, shoving three rings into your hands the moment you walked back to your side. "Do it again! Go back over there and do it one more time!"
"No," you laughed.
"For justice!"
"Sokka, there is absolutely nothing just about what I just did."
Sokka pointed a dramatic, accusing finger across the lane. "He started it!"
"I did not!" Zuko protested loudly.
"You were waving your hair around!" Sokka yelled.
"What does that even mean?!"
While Team Two looked genuinely worried and Zuko continued to glare at you, Sokka leaned over the counter, grinning so hard his face looked painful.
“She’s a natural, Suki. A natural."
Suki shook her head, though she was still smiling.
“I regret ever introducing you two."
The stall owner held up the final set of rings, his voice booming over the chatter.
“Last round, folks!"
The crowd cheered as the scoreboard updated. Thanks to your distraction and Suki's quick throwing during the chaos, the massive gap had evaporated. It was a dead heat:
Team One: 38
Team Two: 35
Team Three: 39
Everything came down to the final throws. Sokka’s eyes darted across the spinning wheels, his mental math clicking into place. He pointed toward the board.
"Third target from the left."
You followed his finger. "The fast one?"
"No, the one behind it."
You frowned, squinting. "Sokka, you can’t even see a target behind it."
"I know. It’s blocked by the wooden barrier right now, but its rotation speed is half the front wheel's. It's going to emerge in exactly three seconds."
You stared at him, then back at the blank spot.
Right on cue, the hidden target slid out from behind the barrier exactly where he predicted.
"...That is incredibly annoying," you muttered. “But damn impressive.”
"So I've been told."
You lined up your shot, took a breath, and flicked your wrist. A direct hit.
The crowd erupted. Tie game.
Across the lane, Aang groaned, resting his forehead against the wooden counter.
“Why are they suddenly so good at this?"
"They’ve become insufferable," Katara replied, though she was grinning.
Sokka handed you your second-to-last ring, his eyes never leaving the board.
“Now, the one on the far right."
"The moving one?"
"The fake moving one."
“What does that even mean?"
"The mechanism is hitching," Sokka explained rapidly. "It sways left, but it’s pretending. It drops right back to the center on the next beat. Trust me."
You didn’t fully understand the physics of his madness, but you trusted him anyway. You threw the ring. It sailed gracefully across the lane, catching the right-hand peg perfectly as it hitched.
The crowd exploded again. Team One pulled ahead on the scoreboard for the first time all night.
Beside the game stall, Toph raised her cup in the air. "I’ve got five silver pieces on the loud one!"
"The loud one?" the fisherman beside her asked, looking down at the earthbender.
Toph pointed a blind, unerring finger directly at Sokka’s face.
“The loud one."
Back at the game, Sokka was practically bouncing in place. Only one final target remained on the entire board, and it was notoriously the hardest: a tiny, painted wooden turtle-duck spinning in tight, rapid circles near the very top of the display.
The crowd fell completely silent. The stall owner folded his arms, looking smug.
“No one’s hit that turtle-duck all night, folks."
Sokka immediately looked at you. You looked back at him. Neither of you spoke a word, but years of shared history and mutual chaotic energy suddenly condensed into one terrifying look of perfect realization.
"Oh no," Katara muttered, stepping back.
"They’re doing the Ember Island thing again," Suki agreed, covering her eyes.
Aang winced. "What thing?"
"The thing where they stop talking because they both think they’re geniuses," Katara explained.
Sokka gave you a sharp nod. You nodded back.
In a flash, Sokka tossed his final ring, not toward the turtle-duck, but straight toward one of the heavier wheels spinning directly beneath it. The crowd gasped at the apparent miss, but the heavy ring struck the lower wheel with a sharp thunk, causing the entire mechanism to jerk violently sideways.
The tiny turtle-duck target stuttered in its track, its rapid spinning halting for a fraction of a second.
Before anyone else could even comprehend what Sokka was doing, your final ring was already in the air. It sailed flawlessly across the lane, cutting through the lantern light, and landed squarely over the stalled turtle-duck target.
The crowd roared, Sokka screamed at the top of his lungs, and you screamed right along with him. Somewhere behind you, Toph’s voice boomed over the madness: "I WON TEN SILVER PIECES!"
"THAT WAS MY RENT MONEY!" the fisherman wailed.
"I BELIEVED IN THEM MORE, BUDDY!"
Sokka grabbed you by both shoulders, shaking you back and forth.
“WE DID IT! WE WON!"
"WE ACTUALLY WON!" you shouted back.
Neither of you noticed you were jumping up and down like toddlers, and neither of you cared.
Across the lane, Aang sighed dramatically, though he was smiling.
“I liked them better when they were losing."
Katara just laughed, leaning against her brother's shoulder as he continued to celebrate their absolute heist of a victory.
Meanwhile, Zuko stood with his arms crossed, watching the two of you lose your minds. He tried very hard to look stern, trying to keep a straight face and fail completely. A breathless smile broke. Because as entirely annoying and chaotic as the two of you were when your brains synchronized, the bright, victorious look on your face was worth every single bit of it.
The stall owner, looking thoroughly defeated but deeply impressed, handed over two heavy, brightly painted tin medallions attached to red ribbons. Sokka proudly slipped his over his head, and you did the same, looking down at the bold lettering stamped into the metal: Whaletail Hooks Champion.
Suki walked around the counter, a bright smile on her face as she wrapped her arms around Sokka’s neck and kissed him on the cheek.
"Congratulations, babe!"
Sokka straightened his spine, puffing out his chest so the tin medal caught the lantern light.
"Address me correctly."
Suki dropped her arms, her smile turning into a look of dry amusement.
“Oh, no..."
"Whaletail Hooks Champion Sokka," he corrected, raising his hands in the air to frame an imaginary title above his head.
Suki just laughed, shaking her head as she leaned against his shoulder.
Across the lane, Aang shook his head and folded his arms in mock betrayal.
"I am officially never teaming up with Zuko again unless we are actively saving the world."
"Aang," you said through your lingering laughter, adjusting your new medal. "You don't have to say that!”
"No, I do," Aang insisted, gesturing wildly at the Fire Lord. "How has he been married this long and still fallen for something that obvious? Zuko, you should already know what she’s going to do whenever she wants to distract—"
Before he could finish his lecture, Katara reached over and brushed a loose strand of hair back from Aang’s forehead, her fingers lingering gently against his temple.
The words died right in his throat as he stared at her, his posture melting. Katara offered him a sweet, knowing smile. "There."
Aang blinked.
"...Hi."
Beside him, Toph nearly choked on her drink, coughing as she laughed.
Aang blinked again, trying to shake the fog from his head.
“What?"
Zuko stepped up behind you, his hand sliding smoothly around your waist as he pulled you against his side. A smug grin crossed his face as he looked across the counter.
“You were saying, Aang?"
Aang opened his mouth to reply, then paused. He let out a defeated sigh.
"I forgot."
The group erupted into a fresh wave of laughter.
Katara playfully rolled her eyes, though her smile was affectionate as she took Aang’s hand and nodded toward the center of the harbor.
"Come on, let's dance!" she called out.
Aang followed her into the crowd without a single shred of hesitation.
The music grew louder, filling the night air as you followed the others toward the beating heart of the harbor. Someone had cleared a wide, circular section of the cobblestone waterfront specifically for dancing. Local musicians crowded onto a raised wooden platform, pouring their souls into songs so fast and lively that half the festival seemed to be moving in perfect rhythm with them.
Aang and Katara disappeared into the swirling crowd first, their hands locked as they spun. Sokka immediately attempted to teach Suki a chaotic new dance he had clearly invented less than thirty seconds earlier, while Suki simply laughed and tried her best to keep him from tripping over his own feet. Toph took one look at the growing madness, announced to no one in particular that she deserved another drink for holding up a literal mountain, and vanished toward the nearest refreshment vendor without a backward glance.
You watched them go, leaning back into Zuko's chest with a soft smile.
“Somehow, they get more ridiculous every single year."
"Or better," Zuko murmured, his chin resting lightly against the crown of your head, his arms wrapping around your middle from behind.
"Uhhh, debatable." You turned your head slightly, pressing a playful kiss to his jawline.
His grip tightened around you, a quiet hum vibrating in his chest. Just then, the fast-paced tempo of the festival changed. The drums slowed, transitioning into a deeper, swaying rhythm. Around you, the frantic dancers parted, making room for couples to step closer together.
Zuko turned you in his arms. The movement was entirely effortless, born from years of knowing exactly how the other moved. His right hand settled firmly against the small of your back, pulling you flush against him, while his left hand intertwined with yours, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles over your knuckles. Laughter and the scent of sea salt drifted through the warm night air, and the overwhelming noise of the world seemed to fade into a gentle hum.
There was absolutely nowhere else either of you needed to be.
You relaxed into his rhythm, letting your forehead rest briefly against his shoulder, letting the steady beat of his heart soothe the lingering adrenaline from the caves.
"Tired?" he asked softly, his breath brushing the top of your ear.
"A little," you admitted, tilting your head up to look at him. "It's hard work carrying Team One to a historic victory."
Zuko looked down at you, his amber eyes immediately darkening with that familiar, mock-suspicious glint.
“You cheated. And I know that look. What are you planning?"
"Should you be worried?" you teased, your fingers lightly tracing the embroidered collar of his robes.
"When you use that specific voice? Yes. Always."
You laughed, the sound bright and unbothered. Across the harbor, a long string of lanterns reflected over the dark.
"I saw a sign earlier," you murmured, leaning in just close enough that your lips almost brushed his jaw. "Apparently, there are natural hot springs tucked away into the cliffs nearby."
"Are there?" Zuko asked, his pace slowing just a fraction as he focused entirely on you.
"Mhm. And a very enthusiastic local woman confirmed they are exceptionally nice." You trailed a finger down his chest, your voice dropping to a playful whisper. "They also happen to be completely secluded."
Now you had his absolute, undivided attention. His eyebrow rose, a spark of genuine interest igniting in his eyes.
"Secluded, you say?"
You nodded thoughtfully, enjoying the way his chest tightened beneath your palm.
“And they're not too far from the Shiny Bug."
The corner of his mouth twitched, a slow, devastatingly handsome smile breaking across his face. He leaned down, dipping you slightly into the turn of the dance just to hear you gasp.
“I highly approve of your scouting methods, Fire Lady."
"I know you do." Your smile widened as you stood up on your tiptoes, bringing your face inches from his. "We’re married for a reason, Zu."
As you spoke, Zuko’s thumb gently brushed over the small, faint scratch on your cheek, the tiny reminder of the collapsing cave from earlier. His touch was incredibly tender, a silent check to make sure you were truly alright, before his playful gaze returned.
A genuine, breathless laugh escaped him, one of those rare, unburdened sounds that never failed to make your chest swell with affection. His hand pressed a little firmer against your waist, guiding you effortlessly beneath the glowing lanterns.
"In that case," Zuko whispered, his voice dropping into a low, rough register as his mouth hovered agonizingly close to your ear, his breath hot against your skin, "I hope the rumors stay entirely between us."
"What rumors?" you asked.
"The ones about the Fire Lady being found entirely alone in those hot springs sometime soon." He nipped playfully at your earlobe, making a shiver run down your spine, before whispering, "Because I’d love nothing more than to get her all to myself."
You reached up, your hand cupping his cheek, your thumb smoothing over his scar as a wicked, playful grin spread across your face.
"Well... you might. If you manage to wake up early enough to keep up with me."
The promise settled comfortably between you, thick with anticipation. Before he could retort, you slid your hand to the back of his neck and pulled him down into a deep, lingering kiss.
Zuko didn't hesitate; his arm anchored you tightly against him, melting into the kiss as the festival carried on around you.
The music swelled, drifting deeper into the starlit night. Nearby, Aang’s joyful laughter echoed over the din at something Katara had said. Sokka had somehow successfully convinced an entire group of absolute strangers to join whatever ridiculous line-dance he was leading, and even Toph’s boisterous voice occasionally boomed across the docks whenever she won an argument with a vendor.
The retreat had not gone remotely according to the schedule. There had been rigid political obligations, a sudden spiritual crisis, a collapsing ancient shrine, and entirely too many opportunities for Sokka to embarrass them all in public. And somehow, despite the absolute chaos of it all, you found yourself wishing it wasn’t almost over.
Tomorrow would be your final day on Whaletail Island before returning to the capital and the heavy weight of the throne. But for tonight, wrapped in Zuko's arms beneath the moonlight, the music, and the endless canopy of stars, reality felt very far away indeed.
𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊
note: ahhhh, contrary to the last installment, this one has my whole heart 🥹 i had so much fun writing it. life has been a little busy lately, so getting to sit down and spend some time with these guys genuinely helped more than i can explain. thank you for still being here and reading these <3 and for everyone already yearning for spice… don’t worry. i gotchuuuu. see you in part four? xx
🏷️my dear taglist (still open for ppl who want to be tagged in part 4): @sereaylia @newseldarya @winter-lemon @clockworkgraystairs @eepypupy @solarlovesxyz @sainz0fthetimes @radicaldualism @littlemiyastars @pdacex @saintfaux @keropiiko @potao-o @thestupidgirlakira @1iluvvocattoss @maee67 @kwomikailea @msheds0519 @awkwardnesshabitat @highlady0239 @angelruinz @xoxocelestial @simplykayblog @roroclarinett
Joel Dealing with His Girlfriend (pre-wifey): Milestone
Joel x F!Reader
Set when Joel and reader are still dating
Warnings: Talking about soft dicks. Joel goes to pound town. multiple orgasms. fucking until unconscious.
18+ ONLY
- - - -
A typical Saturday evening with your boyfriend usually involved you reading in bed while your aforementioned boyfriend hugged your abdomen and rested. Joel is coddled up against your stomach, breathing deeply into your shirt. His face smothered in your scent and touch. Body lax, breathing deep and steady. One leg tossed over your calf. Sometimes you’d run your fingers through his fluffy messy tuff of hair, earning low purrs from deep within his chest. He'd nuzzle his nose against your tummy with a soft grin.
It suddenly dawned on you.
You put your book down , accidentally smacking his head where he let out an 'oomf' into your stomach.
“Why have I never seen you soft before?” you ask.
Joel had started getting used to these kinds of questions from you. Something told him early on this is likely what life with you would be like, so might as well get used to it. He barely reacted aside from casually grumbling into your body: “S’never a time where you n’ me in the same room, and ya lookin’ at my dick, and it wouldn't be hard.”
But that wasn’t good enough for you. “That can’t be true. Roll over right now.”
But Joel didn’t budget.
So you used your surprising leg strength and flipped him like a pancake.
Joel tossed over easily, but the way your eyes laser beamed down at his crotch made him cover the area sheepishly with the pillow.
You saw it anyway, the clear print tent on his front jutting out.
“Are you hard right now??” You ask in disbelief.
“When ya lookin’ at me like that? Of course I am!” He retorts defensively, shifting his hardened dick to a more comfortable, more discrete location without his trousers.
“I’m not lookin at you any different way.”
“Every look ya give me makes me hard…” he admits. His ears turned red.
“But... When will I be able to see it soft…” you draw your eyes into a cute pout.
Joel rolls his eyes. “When I’m dead probably. I can't stay soft when I’m with you.”
“So you’re just walking around with a boner all day every day?”
“No. It’s only after I get to see you.”
You suck your cheek in, looking away. You don’t want him to notice the unavoidable grin plastered on your face from his open and unashamed confession.
You tap your finger on your book for a moment.
"I want to see it soft," you declare.
Joel lets out a chuckle. "Never gonna happen."
"I've known you for a year. I have to know. its like. A milestone. Or something..."
He raises his brow.
You double down. "'Or something', I said! Its a thing. Look it up." When he doesn't relent, you get up on your knees, tossing the book aside. "What do I have to do to make it soft."
Joel laughs, leaning back with one hand behind his head. "You know, there you have been in the same room as me when i've been soft many times, babygirl. Always the same situation."
"Why don't I remember??"
"Cus you're always too fucked out droolin' in the sheets by then," he says cockily.
Something about his smug sexy grin riles you up, and you quickly find yourself straddling atop him.
His hands instinctively seek purchase on your thighs, stroking them up and down while his eyes racked up and down the gorgeous sight of you on top of him. "This ain't helpin' ya get any closer to seein' the 8th wonder of the world..." He hums. To emphasize his point, he drags your clothed mound against his bulge.
It made your insides warm and fuzzy for a moment, your brain slipping into that dizzy realm of pleasure. The one that makes you sway and melt, do whatever the hell Joel wants, and sleep so good afterwards--
No! you were determined to see that thing floppin' around like a deflated wet balloon, even if it was the last thing you saw!
"I need you to get soft."
"Its too late. Im rock hard."
"Make it go backwards!"
"Cant go backwards. Only go forward. Care to find out?" He teases with a smirk. Joel sucks his lower lip as he slowly starts a steady rhymth, rocking you in place, his feet planted a little more firmly so you had no chance of escaping.
You let out a low whine. The only way out, was through. For as long as Joel knew you, you never backed out of a challege.
You also never really win at these things... but he loved how that fact never stopped you.
1 hour later...
The most desperate, pained, pleasurable croak you could muster gets muffled into the betsheets as you bite down on the fabric.
"Ah huh. How ya doin' sweatpea?" Joel huffs. Powerful hips drive into your ass repeatedly, his hands gripping your waist like he meant to leave bruises there. Each thrust sent your forehead scraping forward against the mattress. It took all your night not to fall off the side of the bed.
This fucker! you thought. How the fuck does he do this?
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he expertly angles his cock down, smacking your g spot repeatedly.
Like always, you'd lost count of your orgasms. Like always, you stopped using coherent words and instead resorted to babbling whines to communicate. and Like always, Joel wasn't anywhere near slowing down.
"I ain't hear you, baby." He lays his body closer to yours, chest top your back, slotting against you like a mould. Slow, deep, method rolls keeps his tip planted deep inside you.
He was so solid inside your body. Outside your body. all over you, all of him. His scent, his taste, his touch. Intoxicating and addicting over and over again.
That fucker!
You could feel his breath tickle your as he whispers: "You still waitin' to see it soft?"
Thirty minutes ago you would have ground your teeth and stuck it out with your middle finger up, ass even higher, and mind set to the sky.
But now?
Now you just hummed stupidly, eyes blurry with tears, and brain so switched off, its a miracle you could ever form a thought.
It took less than 20 minutes from that before you were face planted, unconscious in his pillow, a drooling sight he never got tired of.
Joel laid back next to you. He sighed heavily, body ablaze with sweat. You didn't notice it, but he had cum three times, and he was beat. That was usually his max, granted he had saved all week until he could get his hands on you. He was patient like that, waiting for when you'd be in the mood, and not pouncing on ya. Sex was better when you were a stubborn, determined little thing.
But he was exhausted. and true to his word, his cock sagged tiredly against his lower belly.
Joel raises his brow before brushing the hair from your face. If there was a chance you were awake to peak it, you would have shown sign of being alive right now. Instead, despite his best effort to poke your cheek awake, you snored deeply. A well earned rest.
A chuckle escapes his chest. "So much for milestones," he says to himself. He doesn't stop brushing your hair gently from your face. His thumb grazing the soft expanse of your cheek.
"My girl," he hums softly.
He remembered the first time you slept at his place over a year ago, and the thought of waking up to you like this every day plagued his mind.
Its the same thought that tumbles through his mind as he rolls the little velvet box in his hand. He keeps flicking it open, then closed, and the beautiful diamond ring flashes at him repeatedly.
"Whatdda think? You gonna like it?" He asks to your unconscious body, presenting the ring.
you let out an even louder snore.
"Yeah. let's hope that's a yes."
Joel tucks the ring back in his bedside drawer. Not today.
Some day.
Then, the thought dawned on him. A terrible, awful, unthought of one that could thwart that dream from every happening.
What if you said no, all because you never saw him soft???
('island breeze and lights down low.' — part two. Part one here.)
adult fire lord zuko x fire lady firebender reader | mdni.
summary: in which the Fire Lord and Fire Lady learn to have fun, Sokka turns friendship into a competitive sport, and Whaletail Island starts hiding something beneath its cliffs.
content: adult!fire lord zuko x fire lady!firebender reader, established marriage, featuring the gaang (+ suki obvi), humour, element bending (sokka back bends duh), suggestive content, post-war, fluff, blindfolds (in a competitive way).
note: sorry for the delay! pls ignore any accidental lore inconsistencies, i had to fill some restoration era/island worldbuilding gaps with my own interpretations hehe. no proofread whoops. hope you keep liking your stay in whaletail island. ♡
𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
The first light of morning found Whaletail Island wrapped in mist and silence.
Pale sunlight filtered through the thin curtains while gulls drifted over the harbor below. The room still carried traces of the night before: faint incense in the air, tangled blankets, cool mountain wind slipping through the cracked balcony doors.
There were no attendants knocking at the door before sunrise, no stack of urgent council messages waiting beside the bed, no voices already demanding the Fire Lord’s attention before either of you had properly woken.
Somewhere beside you came a soft, steady sound that your half-asleep mind first mistook for the waves below the cliffs. Only when the sound came again did you finally look toward Zuko, staring at him in absolute disbelief. Because Fire Lord Zuko- terrifyingly disciplined, permanently tense, Fire Lord Zuko- was snoring against the pillow beside you. You genuinely could not remember the last time he had slept deeply enough for it to happen at all.
Sometime during the night, he had pulled you almost completely against him beneath the blankets, one arm still wrapped securely around your waist while dark hair rested messily across his forehead. Sleep had softened the usual sharpness of his expression.
Another quiet snore escaped him, and the laugh that slipped from you afterward was barely louder than a breath. Even so, it was enough to stir him. Zuko’s brow twitched faintly before his eyes slowly cracked open, still unfocused with sleep.
“…why are you looking at me like that?” he asked at last, his voice roughened by sleep. Your smile widened.
“Oh, nothing.”
His eyes narrowed, suspicion giving way to sudden alarm.
“Did Sokka draw something on my face?”
A laugh escaped you before you could stop it. “No!”
“Mmm.” He squinted harder beneath the blankets. “You’re smiling suspiciously.”
“You might’ve been snoring…”
“I was not.”
“Zuko.”
“I don’t snore.” His brow furrowed. “You know that.”
You bit down on another laugh as you moved closer, propping your head against your hand before attempting a truly terrible imitation of the soft sound he had been making moments earlier.
Zuko stared at you in complete horror.
“I do not sound like that.”
The indignation in his expression completely broke whatever composure you had left. Laughter broke from you, shoulders shaking hard enough to jostle the blankets between you.
He made an offended sound before grabbing the nearest pillow and shoving part of his face into it with despair.
“You do realize,” he muttered against the blankets, “that I’m the Fire Lord.”
“More like the Snore Lord.”
His arm tightened around your waist again, dragging you closer until you were nearly half sprawled across his chest.
“Would that make you my Snore Lady?” he asked, one brow arching.
“Ew, Zuko, that’s horrible!” you said, laughing.
He echoed your laugh beneath his breath while his hand wandered along your back, absent of urgency for once.
You traced small patterns against the front of his night robes as the room settled back into silence, Zuko hovering somewhere between asleep and awake again with his forehead resting against yours.
“I think,” you murmured eventually, “this might be the latest we’ve slept in for months. Without counting that night in your study, of course.”
“It was only fair we slept in after that,” he replied, eyes still closed even as amusement touched the corner of his mouth. “You looked so good...”
Heat climbed straight into your face.
“…And you sounded even better.”
You shoved lightly at his shoulder, which only seemed to encourage him further.
“Zu, stop it.”
“You sounded a lot less opposed that night...”
Rather than answering, you kissed him.
Zuko kissed you back like he’d been waiting for it, one hand settling at your waist as your fingers threaded through his still-messy hair. The kiss lingered beneath the tangled blankets, his mouth brushing yours again until your thoughts began drifting out of reach.
“Don’t even start…” you murmured against his lips.
“Why?” he asked, his mouth grazing the corner of your jaw before trailing lower. “Because of what I’m saying?” His voice lowered. “Or because you remember exactly how you were that night?”
Your breath caught the moment his hand slid along your thigh beneath the blankets.
“Zuko…”
A quiet satisfaction settled into the way he kissed your neck again, lingering just long enough to make your eyes fall shut.
“That’s what I thought,” he murmured.
The crash from downstairs was loud enough to shake something wooden against the floor below.
Both of you went still.
“GOOD MORNING, VACATIONERS!” Sokka’s voice tore through the cabin.
You buried your face against Zuko’s shoulder, fighting laughter while very pointedly refusing to acknowledge the existence of the outside world. Zuko made a low sound of deep personal suffering before choosing denial as well, dragging you back into another kiss wishing stubbornness alone kept Sokka away.
“EVERYONE GET UP!” Sokka yelled. “BREAKFAST FIRST. ROMANCE LATER.”
Zuko dropped his forehead against your shoulder with a groan.
“I’m going to kill him.”
“I’ll kill Suki. Shouldn’t he be busy with her?”
“GET UP OR I’LL PERSONALLY COME DRAG YOU OUT OF BED!”
You snorted and finally climbed out from beneath the blankets.
By the time both of you had thrown on lighter robes, your bedroom door slid open at the exact same moment as the one across the hallway.
Katara stepped out first, hair still loose from sleep while Aang lingered behind her looking far too awake for this early in the morning.
“What a cockblocker,” Zuko muttered beneath his breath.
Realization crossed his face a second too late.
“…a great cook,” he corrected smoothly as Katara continued staring at him. “I said he’s a great cook.”
Aang nodded far too fast. “I mean, he is.”
Katara elbowed him hard enough to send him stumbling after her toward the stairs.
“A great cook!” Aang repeated weakly while trying to recover his balance.
Steam drifted from the kettles near the kitchen while platters crowded nearly every available surface: jasmine rice beneath woven covers, steamed buns stuffed with pork and scallions, roasted seaweed crisps stacked beside sliced lychee and mango, sweet bean pastries dusted lightly with sugar, and enough tea brewing to satisfy an entire royal council meeting.
Somewhere near the stove, Sokka nearly dropped an entire tray while attempting to turn dramatically toward all of you at once, catching it against his chest at the last possible second before beaming anyway.
“You’re awake!”
“Hard not to be,” Zuko muttered while reaching past you for tea, his sleeve brushing yours in the process.
“Good. Excellent. Amazing.” Sokka pointed triumphantly with the serving spoon still in his hand. “Because before anyone cruelly abandons this island forever, I prepared activities specifically designed to make you regret leaving...”
He gestured grandly toward several enormous parchment rolls stacked near the kitchen counter, nearly smacking Aang in the face with the spoon as he did.
Aang ducked. “You’re really committed to the theme this morning!”
You settled beside Zuko near the low table and reached for one of the steamed buns while the cabin buzzed with overlapping voices, clattering dishes, and Sokka’s unstoppable energy. After weeks of palace schedules and rushed meals between meetings, the chaos felt oddly comforting.
“Well,” you said, lowering your teacup onto the table, “there’s been a slight change of plans.”
The cabin fell abruptly silent.
Zuko looked once around the room before speaking.
“We’re staying.”
“I KNEW IT!” Sokka exploded, loud enough to make several dishes jump.
Aang broke into a grin while relief brightened Katara’s entire face. Across the room, Toph straightened so fast she nearly knocked over the bowl beside her, and Suki let out an excited noise before crossing the cabin to throw her arms around you.
Katara joined a second later, wrapping one arm carefully around both of you while you nearly lost hold of your breakfast entirely.
“I knew you’d cave eventually,” Suki informed you proudly.
“You all made it very difficult to say no,” you admitted. “And I really do appreciate it. We both do, right, Zu?”
Zuko nodded once, still holding his tea.
Sokka pretended to cry with emotion. “Every single time. One soft look from his wife and suddenly the Fire Lord becomes reasonable.”
Leaning against you, Suki pointed toward him with a slice of mango in hand. “He literally prepared backup activities in case emotional manipulation worked.”
“Because I believe in commitment,” Sokka defended, placing one hand against his chest.
“You believe in hostage situations….” Zuko muttered.
Too excited to care, Sokka lunged for the nearest parchment roll and slammed it dramatically across the table hard enough to make several teacups jump.
“Alright, your— no, wait. My dear friends, of course. Absolutely no royal activities here.” He gestured grandly toward the parchment. “Allow me to present today’s itinerary.”
Toph tilted her head toward the sound of parchment unfurling. “I can’t see it and somehow I still know it’s ugly.”
“We begin,” Sokka continued, “with trust exercises across a specially designed obstacle course built personally by me and Aang.”
Aang lifted one hand from beside the fruit trays. “In my defense, he said it would be relaxing.”
Katara leaned farther over the parchment. “It involves ropes...”
“And bridges!” Sokka added proudly.
Your eyes narrowed. “Why is it color-coded?”
Suki pointed at one section. “Is it safe enough?”
Toph smirked from across the table. “More importantly, is it unsafe enough?”
Sokka placed a hand against his chest in awe.
“You see the potential...”
He pointed the spoon dramatically toward the terrace doors.
“Everybody finish breakfast and meet outside in ten minutes.” His gaze shifted pointedly toward you and Zuko. “Fifteen for the two of you, since apparently waking up was a group project this morning.”
You nearly choked on your tea as laughter erupted around the table.
𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚
Fifteen minutes later the entire group stood near the upper terraces of the retreat, where the cliffs broke open toward the sea. Wind pulled at robes and hair and the absurd quantity of flags Sokka had attached across the area overnight. What had looked mildly alarming on parchment looked significantly worse in person, because there was, in fact, an obstacle course.
Ropes ran between cedar posts hammered into the volcanic stone. Narrow bridges swayed above steaming channels carved through the cliffs. Hanging lanterns, wooden beams, stacked crates, and painted markers had turned half the retreat into something that looked designed by someone with tremendous energy and extremely poor judgment.
You stopped beside Zuko near the edge of the clearing and stared.
"When did you even build all this?"
"Passion never sleeps!" Sokka answered proudly.
Toph snorted from her seat on one of the larger rocks nearby, holding a small bell in one hand. "Neither does property damage, apparently."
Sokka climbed onto one of the wooden crates near the starting point. "Welcome," he announced, "to the first official event of the Whaletail Island Games!" Toph rang the bell once. "The rules are simple. One person from each pair wears a blindfold while their partner guides them through the obstacles. No bending allowed! Unless Toph needs to save someone from imminent death. The course has three sections, each harder than the last, and the winning team is decided by speed, teamwork, trust, and overall performance as judged fairly by the greatest earthbender who has ever lived."
Toph lifted the bell slightly. "Meaning I decide based on vibes."
"That's not how competitions work!" Sokka protested, crouching beside a basket near the crate and pulling out several strips of dark fabric. "Alright. Teams have already been assigned."
Suki reached for one of the blindfolds. "Please tell me you're not my responsibility..."
"You absolutely are, babe!"
Nearby, Katara picked up another blindfold while Aang leaned over her shoulder.
“I hope we do well,” Katara said.
Aang smiled knowingly. “I think we will.”
“Oh, I know we will,” Katara corrected, brushing loose hair away from her face as the wind caught it again. “I’m just trying to make everyone else believe we’re not about to crush them.”
The entire group turned toward her.
Katara blinked once beneath the sudden silence.
“…have fun?”
Sokka tossed the final blindfold toward you. Zuko caught it before it reached your hands.
"No."
You blinked at him. "What do you mean, no?"
"You are not walking blindfolded through this." He gestured toward the course without looking away from you. "There are ropes. And cliffs. And whatever that is." He pointed toward a narrow swinging bridge farther ahead.
Aang raised one hand slowly. "That part was my idea."
"Of course it was…"
You laughed and plucked the blindfold from Zuko's hand, ignoring the disapproving look he gave you. "The whole point of a trust exercise," you reminded him, "is trust."
Toph rang the bell sharply.
"Less feelings. More suffering. Let's go."
Sokka pointed toward the start of the course, where three painted banners snapped in the wind.
“Section one is the Cliff Paths. Balance, direction, basic coordination. If you fall here, honestly, that's embarrassing." He gestured toward the ropes and hanging bridges farther along the cliffs. "Section two is the Crossing Grounds, where communication matters most. And section three..." He paused, turning toward the final stretch dissolving into mist above them. "...is the Leap."
Aang's face lit up. "You kept the last part?"
"Of course I kept the last part." Sokka pointed upward toward where narrow stone pillars rose unevenly from the volcanic channels below, connected only by hanging ropes and scattered wooden platforms. "The final stretch is about instinct. No time to think. Just trust."
Toph hopped off the rock in one clean movement and landed near the starting line.
"Blindfolds on, everyone."
Fabric rustled across the clearing as everyone moved toward their partners. Suki stepped behind Sokka and tied his blindfold firmly while he complained. Katara handed her blindfold to Aang, who tied it quickly but carefully behind her head.
You unfolded your blindfold between your hands. Zuko’s gaze moved once across the cliffs, the bridges, the drops below, then came back to your face.
"You really want to do this?"
“Yes.”
His fingers grazed yours before he moved to stand behind you. Darkness settled across your vision the moment the fabric tightened, and your hands reached forward instinctively and found the front of his robes.
Zuko tied the knot, his fingertips caught in your hair once before pulling back.
"There," he said.
Toph rang the bell.
"Guides behind the markers. Blindfolded idiots in front."
The three pairs lined up side by side. Aang already had one hand wrapped around Katara’s wrist. Suki was physically holding Sokka in place before the round had even started. Behind you, Zuko's hands rested at your waist a moment longer than they needed to, then let go. His voice dropped near your ear.
"Ready?"
You smiled beneath the fabric. "With you? Always."
Toph gagged audibly and rang the bell. All three teams moved at the same time.
"Three steps forward," Zuko said from behind you. "Slowly."
You obeyed, one hand lifted slightly in front of you as volcanic stone shifted unevenly underfoot. Without sight, every sound sharpened into something new: the ocean far below, ropes straining against their posts, and Sokka's voice already carrying from your left.
"You keep stepping sideways," Suki told him.
"I can't see sideways!"
Ahead, Katara and Aang were already moving in near-perfect rhythm.
"Small step," Aang said calmly. "Now right." Katara adjusted without hesitation.
Toph rang the bell.
"Hate to say it, Twinkletoes, but you two are disgustingly in sync."
"I know!" Aang answered cheerfully.
Zuko kept one hand hovering close enough to your back that you felt the warmth of it through your robes whenever you slowed.
"Careful," he said as your foot drifted toward the edge of a stone marker. "There's a gap."
You corrected. "I had it."
"You did not."
Your smile widened as something crashed to your left and Sokka's voice went sharp with indignation
"That was the starting lantern," Suki said.
"How was it there already?!"
The path climbed higher between steaming channels cut into the cliffs. The air grew heavier with mineral warmth drifting up from below, and the footing narrowed. Your body had started the course braced for mistakes, but somewhere between Zuko's steady voice and the brief pressure of his hand steering you around sharper turns, you stopped bracing.
"Two steps left," he said. You followed. "Now duck.”
You dropped just before the swing of a hanging beam passed over your head.
Ahead, Katara laughed suddenly. You turned toward the sound despite the blindfold.
“What was that?”
"Aang forgot I couldn't see and pointed at me instead of speaking," she explained through laughter.
Toph rang the bell. "Temporary setback. Still leading."
"What?!" Sokka shouted from somewhere far behind. "How are we losing already?"
A solid thunk sounded from farther down the course and Suki sighed.
“You’re hugging a post again.”
By the time all three teams crossed the painted marker at the end of the Cliff Paths, breathless and windblown from the climb, the early nerves had burned off entirely. Everyone was moving faster, talking louder, and deeply committed to winning.
Toph rang the bell. "Current standings: Sugar Queen and Twinkletoes leading. Fireboy and Firegirl close behind."
"And us?" Sokka demanded.
Toph considered it. "Surviving."
"THAT'S NOT A RANK."
Suki patted his shoulder.
The second section looked genuinely dangerous to those without the blindfold. Narrow hanging bridges stretched between cliff edges above steaming water while ropes crossed overhead between wooden platforms rocking steadily in the wind. Small bells had been tied along the railings and support lines, chiming whenever the bridges moved too hard.
Toph grinned.
"Oh, this part's going to be good."
Sokka approached with his arms stretched out in front of him, moving with what he clearly believed was great caution.
"I want everyone to know that I'm approaching this with grace, athleticism, and emotional maturity..."
He walked directly into one of the bridge posts. The whole structure shook and every bell on it went off at once. Toph nearly fell off her rock laughing.
"AND WE HAVE OUR FIRST CASUALTY."
"I HATE THIS ISLAND."
Suki turned him toward the correct direction, shaking too hard to speak.
Beside you, Zuko leaned closer.
"Still want to keep going?"
You smiled beneath the fabric.
"Are you asking because you're worried, or because you're competitive?"
"... Both."
The bridges swayed under every step and the bells punished any stumble, and without sight the constant shifting beneath your feet became disorienting. Zuko's hand steadied at your waist as the bridge tilted beneath your next step.
"Slow down. The boards narrow ahead."
To your right, Katara and Aang were already halfway across the first bridge.
"Three steps," Aang said evenly. "Now left."
Irritation flared through your chest.
"Absolutely not," you muttered.
Zuko already sounded wary.
"What does that mean?"
"It means I’ve decided we're winning." You stepped forward before he could answer.
The second bridge was worse, the planks shifting unevenly beneath every step.
You stepped without hesitation and your foot landed cleanly on the other side.
By the time you reached the final bridge of the Crossing Grounds, only two teams still resembled functioning competitors. Sokka and Suki arrived several minutes later soaked from the knees down, one sleeve torn for reasons no one investigated, trailed by the ringing of what sounded like every bell on the course.
Toph rang her own bell in response.
"Fan and Sword are officially eliminated from competitive ranking!"
Sokka tore off his blindfold.
"THIS GAME IS RIGGED."
Suki kissed his cheek.
"You still looked handsome failing,” she said in what was more of a question.
"Thank you…”
You lifted your own blindfold just enough to blink against the light. The mist looked brighter now, the stone cooler after the heat of the second section. Beside you, Zuko checked your face before anything else.
"Are you alright?"
You nodded, then noticed Katara already looking up toward the final stretch above the terraces.
"Oh no…" you said.
Aang laughed under his breath.
"I know that face."
"I'm just saying," Katara replied, crossing her arms, "if we're already winning, it would be embarrassing not to finish."
"We are not losing to you!” you said immediately.
Zuko looked slowly between the two of you.
"When did this get personal?"
"Second bridge," Aang said helpfully.
Higher on the cliffs the last stretch emerged from the mist: uneven stone pillars rising from the volcanic channels below, connected by narrow platforms and hanging lines that swayed without stopping. The Leap. Near the starting marker, a set of fresh blindfolds sat folded beside the ropes. Zuko noticed them first.
"Why are there more blindfolds?"
"The final section switches roles,” Sokka's smile came back at full force.
"No way.”
Toph rang the bell. "Too late. It's already a rule."
"This is perfect!” Katara said, delighted.
Aang accepted his blindfold with a serenity that bordered on unsettling.
Zuko looked up at the final stretch once more: pillars through drifting steam, narrow platforms, ropes over open drops. Then he stepped forward when you held the blindfold toward him. You tied it carefully behind his head, the wind pulling at loose strands of dark hair across his forehead. Up close you caught the slight tension in his jaw.
"We can still back out," you said.
"And let them win?” The corner of his mouth moved. “Absolutely not."
"He admits we're competition," Katara pointed across at both of you.
"We passed competition twenty minutes ago," you said.
Toph rang the bell before either of you could continue.
"The Leap begins now."
Zuko moved carefully at first. Your hand stayed wrapped around his as you guided him across the first platform. He adjusted to every instruction without hesitation, his grip steady, his weight shifting the moment you told him where. The boards shifted as a hard gust swept across the cliffs, pulling at both of you, and you tightened your grip
Behind you, Katara and Aang were gaining. You could hear their footsteps landing almost in rhythm.
You moved faster, both of you finding a pace that didn't feel like caution anymore. The final stretch rose sharply between the last set of pillars, connected by planks barely wide enough to walk single-file.
You stepped onto the first one. The edge disappeared and the world tilted sideways in one sudden, lurching second.
Zuko reacted before you could. His arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you back against him in a single motion, turning toward you with the blindfold still tied across his eyes before the danger had even finished registering. The movement sent both of you stumbling together, catching against each other on the platform.
“Thank you,” you breathed out, your hands caught against his chest.
Toph let out a grunt.
“If either of you starts kissing up there, I’m deducting points.”
You started moving again, faster now, side by side with Katara and Aang across the last sequence of platforms while wind pushed hard through the ropes above.
"Step up." Zuko adjusted instantly. "Left." Done. "Jump." His hand tightened around yours and both of you cleared the gap together.
Katara and Aang landed on the next platform in almost the same breath.
Toph's voice echoed up from below.
"THE BABY-MAKERS ARE CATCHING UP.
"We were never behind!" Katara shouted back.
The final platform appeared through the mist
"Three steps," you said quickly. "Then a small jump."
Aang was guiding Katara toward the same finish at nearly identical speed.
"This is stressful," Suki muttered.
Your feet hit the final platform at almost the exact moment Katara and Aang stumbled onto it beside you, both of them breathless from laughing and arguing at the same time.
Toph tilted her head toward the sound before planting one foot firmly against the stone.
Sokka yelped as the rocky platforms carrying him and Suki rose smoothly upward through the mist while sections of the obstacle course folded and reconnected beneath Toph’s bending, pulling everyone toward the final terrace where the four of you stood catching your breath.
Once all of you had gathered onto the main platform, Toph lifted the bell loosely in one hand and rang it.
“Tie.”
Katara threw both arms into the air. “YES!”
"We tied," you laughed.
"Which means we didn't lose.”
Zuko pulled off the blindfold with visible relief while Aang did the same, both of them blinking in the light and the lingering mist.
Toph tilted her head, thoughtfully.
"However..."
Katara stared at her in warning. "Toph."
"... After careful consideration, based on instinctive reaction speed under pressure..." Toph lifted the bell toward you and Zuko. "Extra point to Fireboy and Firegirl for the blindfold catch."
"WHAT?!" Katara gasped.
"I KNEW LOVE WOULD PREVAIL,” Sokka dropped to the ground in celebration.
You turned to Zuko at the same moment he looked at you.
"We won," you said.
A laugh broke out of him completely unguarded as your hands grabbed the front of his robes.
"We actually won!"
"Against all odds," he replied, though the grin spreading across his face made the dry tone impossible to sell.
You laughed and threw your arms around his neck without thinking and he caught your waist to keep you both upright, which nearly sent you both sideways off the platform regardless.
"Careful," he said through another laugh. "You're celebrating near cliffs."
"I don't care, we won!"
Sokka pointed up at both of you with pride.
"THAT'S MY TEAM."
"You cannot assign points based on romance!" Katara protested.
Toph shrugged lazily.
"I can do whatever I want."
Katara crossed her arms while Aang laughed beside her.
"Aang and I could have done that too."
"Yes, look!" Aang agreed.
"Aang, wait—"
He threw himself backward with complete confidence she would catch him while Katara lunged after him in visible panic. A loud crash echoed through the platforms below, followed by the unmistakable sound of somebody hitting at least three wooden beams on the way down.
"...Aang?"
"...I misread the situation."
𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚
Sokka had somehow appointed himself official commentator of the entire event, loudly reenacting everyone's failures while the group made their way back toward the terraces overlooking the retreat.
"You should've seen your face when you almost fell," he told you, walking backward along the stone path with misplaced confidence. "Actually, no, you couldn't have seen it. Blindfold. Tragic."
"You screamed louder than I did throughout the whole game," you replied.
"That was a test for Suki."
Suki snorted beside him while Aang laughed, one hand linked with Katara's as they walked ahead. Even Toph looked quite happy, bell dangling from her fingers.
Zuko walked quieter than the others, though the grin at the corner of his mouth kept betraying him whenever Sokka mentioned the victory again.
"You look insufferably pleased with yourself," you murmured.
"I usually am."
You shook your head fondly and leaned up to kiss his cheek.
The retreat opened toward Whaletail Harbor. Bright strips of orange fabric snapped between rooftops while crowded dockways overflowed with people moving shoulder to shoulder beneath painted tide banners. Drums echoed over the water loud enough to reach the cliffs.
Sokka turned the second the bay came fully into view.
"And now!" he announced, spreading both arms wide enough he nearly hit Aang in the face again. "I present to you… the Tangerine Tide Festival!"
Even from this far above, the waterfront felt alive. Fishing boats drifted between the piers trailing paper streamers while children darted through the crowds carrying orange lanterns shaped like koi.
"I know," Sokka said smugly. "Because I planned this vacation perfectly."
"Let's not forget you forged government documents," Zuko reminded him.
"Let's not forget you stayed."
Suki shook her head fondly before looping one arm through his.
"There's dancing near the square later," she explained while glancing toward the town. "And lantern boats after sunset."
"Oh, I remember those!” Aang said with excitement.
Toph tilted her head slightly toward the sounds rising from below.
"There's definitely food too."
"There's always food," Katara said.
"How it should be," Toph replied.
You leaned against the railing while the ocean wind tugged loose strands of hair free around your face. Zuko's shoulder brushed yours as both of you looked down toward the festival.
Hurried footsteps echoed along the terrace behind the group. You turned alongside the others just as two Air Acolytes came up through the paths leading deeper into the retreat, robes still settling from how fast they had climbed. Their expressions carried the specific kind of careful calm that meant the opposite of calm, and the laughter around the group faded without anyone consciously deciding to stop.
Aang straightened first.
"What happened?"
The older acolyte bowed quickly, still catching his breath. "Avatar Aang. We didn't want to interrupt the preparations unless it became necessary." His eyes moved briefly toward the town before coming back to the group. "There have been disturbances near the western sea caverns."
Toph's expression flattened.
"What kind?"
The younger acolyte answered, fingers tightening against his sleeves. "Fishermen reported hearing voices beneath the cliffs after sunset. Several guidefires along the lower docks extinguished on their own. And earlier this evening, two acolytes stationed near the old cavern shrines never returned from meditation."
The distant celebration continued drifting upward, indifferent against the growing tension.
"How long ago?" you asked. "Since anyone last saw them."
The younger acolyte glanced toward you.
"Just before the evening bell, Fire Lady. Two hours, perhaps a little more."
Two hours was long enough. You looked toward Zuko without meaning to and found he was already doing the same quiet calculation behind his eyes.
"The western caverns are adjacent to the old harbor tunnels," he said. The words came clipped and precise, already mapping the routes in his head. "I saw it on the way here. That network runs deep."
The older acolyte nodded once.
"Yes, Fire Lord. There's a shrine complex beneath them. The locals believe the sea routes there were once protected by a spirit bound to the island itself." He hesitated. "Construction crews expanding the lower docks may have broken into part of the caverns several weeks ago."
Aang exhaled through his nose while Katara's hand found his arm beside him.
"A spirit disturbance," she said. "On a populated island. During a public festival…"
"If the shrine network reaches beneath the docks, the disturbance could already be spreading through the lower caverns," you said. "And if people are gathering above them for the festival—"
"The lower access paths," Zuko finished immediately. "Some of them run directly over the tunnel entrances."
Aang's gaze shifted toward the glowing town.
"The missing acolytes are what I can't ignore," he said. "Whatever else is happening, there are still people down there."
Sokka had gone noticeably still. He looked between the festival lights and the group gathered on the terrace.
"So…" he said carefully. "We're not doing the tidefire boats."
"Sokka," Suki warned.
"I'm establishing the situation." Sokka crossed his arms. "Are we going now or waiting for something worse to happen first?"
Toph crouched and pressed two fingers against the volcanic stone beneath her feet.
"Something's been wrong under the western cliffs all day," she said. "I thought it was just the island settling."
The wind carried the faint noise of the crowd up from the waterfront. You thought about the cavern network beneath the cliffs, the missing acolytes, the broken shrine tunnels now sitting beneath a crowded festival.
"We should move before it gets darker," you said. "Whatever's happening down there, visibility is only going to get worse."
Aang looked once around the group the way he always did just before he stopped asking and started moving.
"Take us to the caverns."
𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚
note: thank you so SO much for the response on part 1, it truly made my entire week. lmk if the games bit are understandable bc it was a headache- idk why I keep doing this to myself lol. i hope you keep liking the series. thank you for reading! Xx
🏷️my dear taglist (still open for ppl who want to be tagged in part 3): @sereaylia @newseldarya @winter-lemon @clockworkgraystairs @eepypupy @solarlovesxyz @sainz0fthetimes @radicaldualism @littlemiyastars @pdacex @saintfaux @keropiiko @potao-o @thestupidgirlakira @1iluvvocattoss @maee67
re: my last thing about zuko and the reader getting their freak on.
For whatever reason, they can't fuck fuck, and they have to settle for Zuko sliding his cock through reader's folds, his flushed tip kissing your clit on every upward thrust.
You're beyond soaked, and the way you two are trying to get off with just the friction of the humping is just making a bigger mess.
The way your wetness glistens where it's smeared all over Zuko's cock and and lower abs, reflecting the warm orange firelight from the torches in your shared chambers, is enough to have your head spinning.
summary: zuko can't keep his hands off his wife so whose really surprised when you show up pregnant with your fifth kid?
pairing: husband!dad!zuko x wife!mom!reader
wc: 1.2k
18+, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of labor, zuko as a dad, extreme fluff
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀ঌ⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
your hands gripped your husband's arm that was wrapped gently around your neck as he held you close, his other hand holding your waist as he pounded into your sweet cunt. back to his chest, you cried out his name as he had his way with you.
your stomach was round with baby number five and while you had told zuko no more after this, you couldn't stop yourself from wondering what a sixth would be like as he pushed his cock to the hilt.
"i love seeing you like this." he moved his hand down to your bump. "womb full with my child, breast leaking milk. you're so beautiful, love."
"nghh, o-oh fuck! feels so good zuko, d-don't stop!" you push your hips back.
and he doesn't. he takes you just like that, both arms wrapped around your body, keeping you right against him, his face buried in your neck as you clench around him.
you cried out in pure bliss as your orgasm crashed into you, your wet pussy gripping zuko's cock and milking him for all he's worth. hot cum spills into you, warming your dripping cunt as your husband gave you his seed.
he groaned low and deep into your neck, one hand coming up to squeeze your breast as milk leaked from your nipples. his hips twitching as he pushed every drop into you.
ঌ
your first baby, a darling girl named izumi, was born five years ago. you and zuko had been married only two months before you fell pregnant with her. you think it happened on your honeymoon to ember island.
then came little iroh, your sweet boy, who was born only ten months after his older sister. you had shown up to the throne room and interrupted zuko's council meeting. he met you at the bottom of the stairs after dismissing his flustered advisors, giving you a sloppy, lust filled kiss.
needless to say, zuko found it incredibly attractive that you demanded his attention like the fucking queen you were and took you on top of the throne.
your third hadn't been planned, another girl you called ursa, named after zuko's mother. you both were tired parents taking care of a menace of a toddler, and a teething five month old that refused to sleep in his cot or be handled by the nannies.
when you finally had a moment to yourself, zuko had taken you on a date night outside of the palace. a restaurant that was close enough to home should there be an emergency with the kids.
you had started to leak milk, two wet spots appearing where your nipples were. zuko's eyes darkened at the sight and when you made it back to the palace, he fucked you until you both passed out from exhaustion.
the fourth came two years later and was completely your decision. the driving force had been innocent.
zuko was playing with the children who were four, three and two years old. you found them in the inner courtyard, your husband being attacked by three mini versions of himself.
the area had been loud with the laughter of children as zuko gave each kid a turn at being tossed in the air before he caught them and moved them through the air like a ship.
you conceived that night, and nine months later came your youngest, another girl with chubby cheeks and the name himeko. she was the perfect combination of you and zuko.
now she was nearly one and you were entering your sixth month of pregnancy with your fifth child. you were tired, but so so content. you wouldn't change a thing.
but you were done.
you had given the fire nation plenty of heirs and decided it was time to settle down and focus on raising them.
ঌ
"oh come on guys!" sokka cried out at the sight of your swollen belly as you both welcomed the gang for a reunion.
you were surprised yourself to see katara had a bump of her own, aang blushing embarrassingly next to her.
ঌ
"izumi, do not throw fireballs at your brother!" zuko yelled, excusing himself from the table to gather your children.
she laughed menacingly as she rushed past the table of adults, chasing after her screaming brother.
"hi uncle aang, hi uncle sokka, hi auntie katara, hi auntie toph!" she managed to yell each name as zuko snatched her and iroh up, carrying them out of the room while scolding them.
"this is how you repay me for allowing you to stay up past your bedtime." his voiced carried out of the room.
yes, three of your five children had inherited the ability to fire bend. but iroh had taken after you. the sight of him using his little hands to earth bend filling you with pride.
himeko was young but one night, she had sneezed and the tiniest of flames escaped her little nose. zuko beamed, of course.
"are you guys trying to build your own seperate nation? that's five kids and you haven't even been married for a decade!"
you smirked at sokka, adjusting a sleeping himeko against your bump before saying "i think i'll have ten more just to spite you."
"as long as they're earth benders." toph added.
ঌ
three months later you welcomed your fifth baby. a boy, and he had been named zuko.
your labor had been rough. baby zuko took almost twenty four hours to come and you cursed your husband with every contraction and each push.
you were exhausted, sweat making your hair stick to your forehead as you held a squirming newborn to your chest. lifting your breast so he could feed.
zuko was still sat behind you as you laid your head back against him, the feel of milk letting down as your son began to drink. he had been in this position while you birthed his son, telling you just how strong you were and how much he loved you.
you felt your husband kiss the side of your head. “my wife. the mother of my children.”
you giggled and leaned deeper into him. “my husband. the father of my children.”
when the nanny brought the littles in to meet their brother, you passed the baby to zuko and allowed them to climb the bed as they raced to tackle you.
"careful little ones." zuko's voice carried over the sound of little giggles as he stood with his son cradled in his arms. a tiny little bundle against his massive figure.
you took himeko from the nanny once the older ones settled down.
"mommy, do i have a brother or another sister?" little iroh asked, eyes identical to his fathers, looking at you with so much hope. he and zuko had been outnumbered, your eldest son once crying to you about wanting a brother because he had too many sister.
"well.." you pretend to think about it. the girls giggle as iroh pouts in frustration. "i think you'll be happy to know that you and your father are no longer the only boys."
his face immediately lit up, his mouth falling open in excitement. he rushed off the bed to jump up and down next to zuko, begging to see the baby.
after the kids were all properly introduced to the newest member of the family, zuko took them away to settle them for bed. it was just you and the littlest one.
your heart swelled as he looked up at you with those royal golden-yellow eyes al of your children inherited from their dad.
this one, had been your spitting image.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀ঌ⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
note: i seen a tiktok that said they couldn't believe zuko only had one kid and honestly that's so real.
i wrote this in a few hours so let a girl know what you think 😌
A/N: no spoilers here! I'm holding myself back from seeking out reasons to watch the AtLA movie, despite Zuko’s fine ahhh plaguing my FYP. Pouring out my desires here and awaiting my kings return on the big screen
It was truly beyond comprehension how Aang had managed to convince the group to return to the scene of the crime. Yet, here they were, settled into the plush red velvet of the VIP box at the Ember Island Theater to see the "updated" production of The Boy in the Iceberg.
While the original play had been an affront to their very existences, the passage of years had turned the insult into comedy. It had taken weeks of relentless badgering—and the specific promise of some very private "alone time" away from the prying eyes of the Fire Nation court—to lure Fire Lord Zuko away from the Dragon Throne.
The Director had clearly been busy during the post-war boom. Aang’s character had been through three different actresses, Katara’s counterpart was somehow even more prone to theatrical sobbing, and the actor playing Toph was still a hulking, muscular man. Your own portrayal had been "enhanced" as well; the playwright had leaned heavily into your firebending temper, making you out to be a terrifyingly bitchy aristocrat. Sokka, meanwhile, was the only one pleased—having successfully bribed his actor to incorporate a crumpled list of "certified Grade-A Sokka jokes" into the script.
You were comfortably tucked under Zuko’s arm, his thumb tracing idle circles on your shoulder, when his stage counterpart made his grand entrance. You felt the familiar tension rise in Zuko’s frame as the actor shouted about his honor.
"Even after all this time," you whispered, leaning close so your breath tickled his ear, "the fact that they still haven't switched your scar to the right side is actually impressive."
A chorus of snickers erupted from the rest of the group. Zuko let out a soft huff of indignation, his face flushing a deep crimson as he gave your shoulder a playful pinch in retaliation. You poked his cheek, grinning when he tried to maintain his "stoic Fire Lord" facade, before shifting to stand.
"I’ll be back," you announced, smoothing out the invisible crinkles of your skirt. "I need some fresh air before the 'Secret Tunnel' musical number starts."
"Don't get lost on the way back," Sokka chirped, his eyes glued to the stage as he shoveled a handful of fire flakes into his mouth. "The halls are confusing for people who aren't master navigators like me."
You reached over and gave his man-bun a sharp flick. Sokka let out a dramatic yelp of feigned agony, fumbling for a fire flake to hurl at your head. You dodged it with effortless grace, your soft laughter echoing through the box as you slipped through the heavy curtains.
Inside the box, silence lingered for exactly three minutes before Zuko awkwardly cleared his throat. He shifted in his seat, adjusting his high collar as if it had suddenly become too tight.
"I’ll also, uh... grab some fresh air," he muttered, rising with a stiff formality that fooled absolutely no one. "Just to make sure she didn't... actually get lost. This theater is a maze."
As the curtains swished shut behind him, Toph kicked her feet up on the railing, a wicked smirk crossing her face.
"He's lying," she said nonchalantly, feeling the frantic, heavy thrum of Zuko’s heartbeat through the floorboards. She let out a loud cackle when Sokka immediately choked on a fire flake.
The cool night air of Ember Island was a relieving contrast to the stuffy, velvet-draped balcony box, but you hadn’t walked far. You knew you didn’t have to wait long before the doors opened behind you.
You were leaning against a pillar, the moonlight catching the gold embroidery of your outfit. When Zuko appeared, looking flustered and scanning the shadows a slow smirk pulled at your lips.
"Found me already?" you purred. You hooked a finger into the high, gold-trimmed collar of your outfit, tugging it just enough to invite the breeze. "And here I thought you were worried about my sense of direction."
Zuko didn't waste time with excuses. He crossed the distance in a few hurried strides, his boots crunching on the gravel before he pinned you against the stone. "You knew I’d follow you," he rasped, his voice dropping into that low, gravelly register that always made your toes curl.
"Oh I counted on it," you whispered, reaching up to tangle your fingers in the dark hair at the nape of his neck and bringing him down to your height.
The kiss was far from polite affection of the palace; it was hungry and desperate, fueled by weeks of formal meetings and long distance. You were bold, nipping at his lower lip and pulling him closer until there was no space left between you, your breasts pressing up against his chest.
You shifted your weight, intentionally letting the deep slit of your skirt fall open. Your bare leg brushed against the heavy fabric of his trousers, a bold invitation that Zuko accepted without hesitation or the need of words. His hand slid down, his palm hot—perpetually simmering with the fire beneath his skin—as he found the exposed curve of your thigh.
His fingers flared, his grip firm as he squeezed the soft skin there, hitching your leg up slightly to bring your hips flush against his. A soft, breathless moan escaped your throat, swallowed by his mouth as he deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips with a frantic sort of worship and desperation.
"The play..." Zuko managed to mutter against your jaw, his breath hitching as you nipped at his earlobe. "They'll... they'll notice we're gone too long."
"Let them," you breathed, your voice thick with heat. "I'm much more interested in the 'alone time' I promised you."
You guided his hand higher up your thigh, your heart wildly hammering against your ribs. Zuko groaned, a low sound of pure want, and was just about to bury his face in the crook of your neck when the doors creaked open with a violent thud.
"HOLY HOG MONKEYS!"
Sokka’s voice boomed through the garden like a lightning strike.
The two of you freeze. Zuko’s hand was still firmly cupping your thigh, your arms were draped over his shoulders, and your hair was a bird's nest of redirected passion. You peeked over his shoulder just in time to see four bodies enter the garden.
The Gaang stood there in various states of shock. Sokka froze mid-chew, a half-eaten moon peach in his hand, his eyes bulging, Katara had her hands over her face, though her fingers were suspiciously wide apart, Aang turned a shade of pink that rivaled a sunset, and Toph—despite her blindness—was grinning directly at your location.
"Oh, wow," Aang squeaked, spinning around instantly. "The stars! Look at how... sparkly the stars are tonight!"
"Told you they weren't looking for 'fresh air,'" Toph cackled, pointing a thumb back at the theater. "The vibrations out here were getting... intense."
"My eyes!" Sokka finally wailed, dropping his snack. "Zuko! She’s like a sister to me! I’m traumatized!"
Zuko didn't move for a long, agonizing second, his forehead dropping onto your shoulder with a heavy thud of pure defeat. Slowly, he retracted his hand from your leg, though he pointedly took his time to smooth your skirt back down before turning around. His face was a shade of crimson so dark it was almost purple.
"The play broke for intermission," Aang squeaked. "We just... thought we’d join you."
"Well," you said, your voice regaining its playful edge, "now that you're all here... does anyone want to tell me if the stage-version of me finally stopped complaining?"
"Actually," Katara managed, finally finding her voice as she steered the group away, "I think we’ll just go find some water. Lots of water. To uh wash our brains."
As the doors slammed shut, followed by the muffled sound of Sokka’s indignant yelling, you looked at Zuko. He looked at you.
"Sooo..." a mischievous glint in your eyes as you looped your arms back around his neck. "Where were we?"
Zuko let out a short, breathy laugh, shaking his head. "I am never taking them on vacation again."
warnings: angst to comfort, secret pregnancy, found family, Iroh's wisdom
The morning sun peeked through the ornate windows of the Fire Nation palace, but you didn’t feel its usual warmth. Instead, you felt that familiar, heavy churning in your stomach. It had been happening for weeks now—exhaustion, the sudden sensitivity to the smell of Zuko’s favorite spicy foods, and a strange, fluttering pressure deep in your abdomen.
You sat on the edge of the bed, watching Zuko sleep. At twenty-four, the Fire Lord looked older than his years when he was awake, burdened by the crown and endless meetings. But in sleep, his face smoothed out, looking more like the boy you had met all those years ago.
You pressed a hand to your stomach. You knew. You’d seen a healer in the lower plaza under a fake name, and the news had hit you like one of those boulders Toph would chuck at you during training sessions: four months. You were four months pregnant.
Bile rose in your throat. Five years was a long time to be dating, but Zuko hadn’t mentioned marriage. Not once. He talked about the future of the nation, about rebuilding, about his legacy—but never about a wedding. Did he even want kids? He was so focused on being a better man than his father that you worried he was scared to be a father at all.
For a week, you lived like a ghost in your own home. You ate dinner with him, kissed him goodbye before his council meetings, and practiced your firebending in the courtyard, all while your secret grew inside you. Every time he touched your waist or pulled you close, you flinched ever so slightly, terrified he would somehow feel the change in you.
By the seventh day, the pressure became too much. You couldn't tell him—not yet. You needed someone who knew Zuko better than anyone. You needed a person who lived outside the walls of duty and expectation.
Without a word or a note, you packed a small bag, slipped past the palace guards using the secret routes Zuko had once shown you, and boarded a ship heading for Ba Sing Se.
The Jasmine Dragon was quiet when you arrived. The scent of brewing leaves and steamed buns usually made you feel at home, but today, it just made you want to cry.
Uncle Iroh was wiping down a table when you stepped through the door. He didn't look surprised; he just smiled that soft, knowing smile and set his rag down.
"I believe I have just the blend for a weary traveler," he said, gesturing to a private booth in the back.
You sat down, and the moment the steam from the tea hit your face, the dam broke. You told him everything. You told him about the pregnancy, about the fear that Zuko wasn't ready, and about how much you hated yourself for running away.
"He’s Fire Lord, Iroh," you whispered, gripping your cup. "He has to think about heirs and tradition. What if he thinks I did this to trap him? What if he doesn't want a family because of... everything that happened with Ozai?"
Iroh reached across the table, his warm hand covering yours. "My nephew has spent his life learning how to love, my dear. He does not see you as a 'tradition' or a 'trap.' He sees you as his home. But I suspect he is currently making a very large scene back at the palace trying to find you."
"I just...needed a moment to breathe," you sighed, leaning back. "I feel like I'm carrying the weight of the whole world."
"You are carrying a life," Iroh corrected gently. "That is not a weight. It is a gift. Even if the timing feels like a storm, remember that flowers need rain to grow."
You spent the next few days helping Iroh in the shop. It was peaceful. You helped serve tea, you walked through the Middle Ring gardens, and for a moment, you felt like a normal girl again, not the secret girlfriend of the world’s most powerful firebender.
But peace never lasted long when the Avatar and his friends were involved.
It was a Tuesday afternoon. The shop was half-full when the front doors didn't just open—they flew off their hinges.
"Uncle! She isn't here! The guards at the harbor said a woman matching her description got on a ferry, but—"
Zuko’s voice cut through the air like a blade. He looked like a wreck. His hair was messy, his robes were wrinkled, and his eyes were bloodshot. Behind him stood Aang, Katara, Sokka, and Toph, all looking equally exhausted and worried.
Zuko stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes landed on you, sitting at a corner table with a plate of half-eaten dumplings.
For a second, nobody moved. Then, Zuko was across the room in three long strides. He didn't yell. He didn't demand answers. He simply crashed into you, wrapping his arms around you so tightly you could barely breathe. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, and you could feel him shaking.
"I thought someone took you," he choked out, his voice muffled by your hair. "I thought Ozai’s loyalists found a way into the palace. I thought I’d lost you forever."
"Zuko, I'm sorry," you whispered, hugging him back. "I just... I had to get away."
The rest of the group gathered around, a mix of relief and confusion on their faces. Sokka looked like he wanted to complain about the frantic trip, but Katara shushed him.
"We've been searching for a week," Aang said softly. "Zuko wouldn't eat or sleep. We had to fly Appa through a storm to get here."
Zuko pulled back just enough to cup your face in his hands. His thumbs traced your cheekbones. "Why didn't you tell me? Whatever it is, whatever is wrong, we can fix it. If you’re unhappy in the palace, we’ll change things. Just don’t leave me again."
You looked at his face—the desperation, the raw love—and felt like the biggest idiot in the world. You had been so scared of his reaction that you’d ignored the man he actually was.
Toph, who had been standing back with her arms crossed, suddenly tilted her head. Her milky eyes focused somewhere around your midsection. She frowned, her feet shifting on the wooden floorboards.
"Uh, Sparky?" Toph said, interrupting the moment.
Zuko didn't look away from you. "Not now, Toph."
"No, seriously," she insisted, stepping closer. "I think I know why she ran away. Or at least, why she’s acting weird."
"Toph, give them some space," Katara whispered, reaching for the earthbender's arm.
"I’m just saying!" Toph shrugged her off. "I can hear it. It’s faint, but there’s definitely a second little pitter-patter in there. A really fast one."
The room went dead silent. Zuko’s hands froze on your cheeks. He looked down at your stomach, then back up at your eyes. His mouth opened, but no sound came out.
"Toph..." you breathed, your face turning bright red. "I was going to tell him."
"Wait," Sokka’s jaw dropped. "A second heartbeat? Like... a baby? Is there a baby in there?"
"Four months," you whispered, looking only at Zuko.
Zuko’s knees seemed to give out slightly. He dropped his hands to your waist, his fingers splaying across your stomach with a reverence you’d never seen. He looked terrified, but beneath the terror was a spark of something that looked a lot like wonder.
Uncle Iroh stepped forward, clapping his hands together. "Alright, everyone! I think the Jasmine Dragon is closed for a private tea ceremony. Aang, Sokka, why don't we go find some meat skewers down the street? Let's give these two some air."
With some grumbling from Sokka and a knowing wink from Iroh, the shop was cleared out. The broken door was pulled shut as best as it could be, leaving you and Zuko alone in the golden afternoon light.
Zuko still hadn't moved his hands. He was staring at your belly as if he expected it to start talking to him.
"Four months?" he finally asked.
"Yeah," you said, your voice trembling. "I’m sorry I ran. I was just... I was scared, Zuko. You haven't asked me to marry you, and you're so busy being Fire Lord, and I didn't know if you wanted this. I didn't want to be a burden."
Zuko let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. He pulled you into his lap, sitting on the bench and tucking your head under his chin.
"A burden?" he repeated. "I was going to propose on the anniversary of our first date next month. I’ve had the ring in my desk for half a year. I was just waiting for the perfect moment because I wanted everything to be right for you."
You pulled back, staring at him. "You have a ring?"
"Of course I have a ring," he said, a bit of his usual grumpiness returning to hide his emotion. "I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment I realized you were everything I wanted."
He leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours. "As for being Fire Lord... my father didn't care about his family. He only cared about power. I want to be the opposite of him in every way. If that means I spend my days ruling and my nights rocking a cradle, then that’s the best life I can imagine."
You felt a massive weight lift off your shoulders. You reached up, running your fingers through his hair. "So you're not mad?"
"I’m furious that you ran away," he admitted, his eyes darkening for a second. "I was scared to death. But about the baby?" He let out a long breath, a small, genuine smile breaking across his face. "I think I'm going to be the happiest man in the world. Even if Toph found out before I did."
"She does have a way of ruining surprises," you joked, leaning into him.
Zuko kissed you then—a long, slow kiss that tasted like home and jasmine tea. For the first time in weeks, the churning in your stomach stopped. You weren't alone in this anymore.
"We should probably go tell them we're okay," you said after a while, though you didn't move.
"In a bit," Zuko whispered, his hand still resting gently over your heart and the tiny life growing beneath it. "Let's just stay here for a minute."
Outside, you could hear Sokka arguing with Iroh about whether sea-prunes belonged in tea, and Toph laughing loudly at a something Aang made. But inside the shop, it was quiet, warm, and finally, perfectly right.
12 months ago, the last of Ozai's loyalists have captured and poisoned you. The aftermath of this attack leaves you permanently altered, struggling with the physical toll of a mercury-like toxin that has left your legs completely paralyzed.
Heavily inspired by the events in the Legend of Korra when Zaheer poisons Korra.
pairing: Zuko x Fem! Reader
warnings: major character injury, depression, implied/mentioned torture, heavy angst, hurt to comfort
The silence in the Fire Nation palace wasn’t the peaceful kind; it was the heavy, suffocating sort that pooled in the corners of the room like cooling lava.
For (Y/N), the world had shrunk to the dimensions of a silk-draped bed and the intricate carvings on the ceiling. It had been six months since the last of Ozai's loyalists had kidnapped her, six months since the mercury-like toxin had been forced into her veins, and another agonizing six months since her legs had become nothing more than dead weight attached to a soul that felt equally leaden.
Zuko entered the room with a tray, his footsteps intentionally soft. He had traded the regal stride of a Fire Lord for the hesitant shuffle of a man walking on thin ice. He looked older—not just from the years that had passed since the war, but from the exhaustion etched into the lines around his golden eyes.
"I brought the tea Iroh sent from Ba Sing Se," he murmured, setting the tray down. "It’s a blend meant to settle the spirit."
(Y/N) didn’t turn her head. Her gaze remained fixed on the balcony, where the sunlight of Caldera City mocked her with its vibrancy. "My spirit is settled, Zuko. It’s buried. There’s a difference."
Zuko flinched. He sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out for her hand, but stopped himself. He remembered the warrior she had been—the way she used to dance through fire-bending forms, her laughter a sharp, bright contrast to his own brooding nature. Now, she was a ghost haunting her own skin.
"The healers are coming back tomorrow," he said, his voice straining to hold onto a hope that she clearly didn’t share. "Katara is arriving from the South Pole. She thinks that with the poison fully purged, we can start the physical—"
"I can’t feel my feet." Her voice was a flat, jagged thing. "I can’t feel the floor. I can’t even feel the sheets against my skin unless I look down to confirm they’re there. Why are we pretending, Zuko? Why are you keeping me in this cage?"
"It’s not a cage, (Y/N). It’s your home."
"A home is a place you live in," she snapped, finally looking at him. Her eyes were rimmed with red, the fire in them replaced by a cold, dark resentment. "I’m just waiting here. I’m a statue you have to dust off and feed ocassionally."
Zuko stood up abruptly, the tray rattling. "Don't say that. You’re the woman I love. You’re the person who stood by me when the whole world wanted my head. I am not giving up on you just because you’ve decided to give up on yourself."
He stormed out, the heavy doors thudding shut behind him. (Y/N) closed her eyes, a single tear tracking a path down her cheek. She hated him for his hope. It felt like a demand she couldn’t meet.
The arrival of the Gaang should have felt like a reunion, but to (Y/N), it felt like a funeral procession. Sokka’s jokes were forced and died quickly in the heavy air of her chambers. Aang’s gentle smile was tempered by a profound sadness he couldn't quite hide behind his monk’s composure. Toph, usually the loudest of them all, was uncharacteristically quiet, her feet sensing the stillness in (Y/N)’s lower half—a vibration that simply wasn't there.
The days blurred into a cycle of humiliation and pain. There were the stretches that made her muscles scream while her nerves remained silent. There were the moments when she tried to stand, supported by Aang’s airbending and Zuko’s strong arms, only to collapse into a heap of useless limbs and sob quietly into Zuko’s chest.
The worst part was the pity. It was in the way they whispered in the hallways, the way they looked at her like she was a broken vase, sharp pieces sprawled on the floor.
One evening, after a particularly grueling session where she had failed to even twitch a muscle, (Y/N) found herself alone with Zuko in the gardens. He had carried her to a stone bench overlooking the koi pond.
"I wish you would just yell at me," (Y/N) whispered, watching a bright orange fish break the surface. "I wish you’d get angry that I’m not getting better."
Zuko sat beside her, his hand finally finding hers and gripping it tight. "I am angry, (Y/N). I’m furious. I’m angry at the men who did this. I’m angry at the universe for taking so much from someone who gave everything to save it. But I could never be angry at you for being hurt."
"I’m not hurt," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I’m broken."
"The Fire Nation was broken," Zuko said firmly. "I was broken. My face is a map of where I was broken. But we’re still here. You’re still here."
"I’d rather be dead than be a burden," she spat, the words tasting like ash.
Zuko’s grip tightened until it almost hurt. "You are not a burden. You are my heart. If I have to carry you for the next fifty years, I will do it gladly. But don’t you dare tell me your life is worth less because you can't walk."
The thought of never walking again was a physical weight. A suffocating blanket that neither of them could throw off. (Y/N) felt like a spirit, watching her life happen from the sidelines, while Zuko felt like he was watching the person he loved drown in a shallow pool, unable to pull her out.
A week later, Katara cleared the room. Even Zuko was shooed out.
The room was filled with the scent of jasmine and the thick, humid heat of the natural springs. Katara helped (Y/N) sit, and lowered her slowly into a deep stone tub filled with mineral-rich water. She stood behind her outside of the tub, her sleeves rolled up, her movements fluid and calm.
As the warm water rose to (Y/N)’s waist, she felt... nothing. Just the familiar, terrifying void where her lower body should be.
"I know that look," Katara said softly, her hands moving through the water, creating gentle ripples that pulsed against (Y/N)’s skin.
"What look?" (Y/N) asked, her head lolling back against the rim.
"The look of someone who has decided the battle is over before the final blow is struck." Katara’s voice wasn't judgmental; it was weary. "I saw it in the mirror for months after the war. I saw it in my father when my mother was taken. It’s the look of someone who thinks their trauma is the only thing left of them."
(Y/N) laughed, a dry, bitter sound. "You’re the Master Healer, Katara. You’re the hero. You don't get to talk to me about being a victim."
"I was a girl in a village who watched her mother get taken to save her," Katara said, her eyes flashing with a sudden, sharp intensity. "I spent years carrying the weight of an entire tribe on my shoulders while the boy I loved was the target of the entire world. I have been broken in ways that don't show up physically. I’ve felt that same helplessness—that same belief that the world would be better off if I just disappeared into the snow."
Katara moved closer, her hands glowing with a soft, blue light as she submerged them near (Y/N)’s hips.
"The poison is gone, (Y/N). The physical blockage is cleared. What’s left is the wall you’ve built to protect yourself from the disappointment of failing. You’re so afraid of trying and failing that you’ve chosen to fail by default."
"It hurts," (Y/N) whispered, her eyes watering. "Every time I try and nothing happens, it kills a little more of me."
"Then let it kill the part of you that’s afraid," Katara urged. She took (Y/N)’s hand under the water, pressing it against her own thigh. "Feel the water. Don't try to move your legs. Just feel the heat. Feel the weight of it. Your body is still yours. It’s not your enemy."
(Y/N) sobbed, her shoulders shaking. "I can’t. Katara, I can’t."
"You can," Katara insisted, her voice a steady anchor in the steam. "I’m not asking you to walk. I’m not asking you to stand. I’m asking you to exist in this moment. Right here. With me."
Katara’s bending became more focused. The water began to swirl in rhythmic patterns around (Y/N)’s feet, stimulating the nerve endings with precise, pressured currents.
"The world is still waiting for you," Katara whispered. "Zuko is sitting outside that door, probably burning a hole in the floorboards with his pacing. He doesn’t want a warrior. He wants you. But you have to want you, too."
(Y/N) looked down through the clear, steaming water. She saw her legs, pale and still. She thought of the poison, the cold, metallic slide of it through her veins. She thought of the anger she had used as a shield to keep Zuko at a distance, because if she pushed him away, she wouldn't have to see her own reflection in his worried eyes.
She breathed in the jasmine. She let the warmth of the spring seep into her pores. She stopped fighting the water and started listening to it.
Just one thing, she thought. Just one small proof that I’m still in here.
She focused every ounce of her will—the same will that had faced down armies and mastered elements—into the tip of her right foot. She didn't think about the miles she couldn't walk. She thought about a single, infinitesimal point of contact between her mind and her flesh.
Move.
Deep beneath the surface, shrouded by the blue glow of Katara’s healing and the swirling eddies of the spring, a big toe twitched. It was a movement of perhaps a fraction of an inch, a tiny ripple in the vast stillness of her paralysis.
(Y/N) gasped, her heart hammering against her ribs.
Katara’s eyes widened. She didn't cheer. She didn't shout. She simply squeezed (Y/N)’s hand, a fierce, knowing smile breaking across her face. "I saw it."
(Y/N) leaned her forehead against Katara’s shoulder, her tears finally falling for a different reason. The feeling of hopelessness hadn't vanished; the road ahead was still long, steep, and paved with a thousand more failures. But the silence had been broken.
Outside the door, Zuko heard the sound of (Y/N) weeping—not the hollow, hopeless sound of the last six months, but a raw, cleansing sound. He leaned his head against the wood, closing his eyes as his own breath hitched in relief. For the first time since the accident, the fire in his heart didn't feel like it was flickering out. It felt like a spark hitting dry kindling.
They weren't whole yet, but they were no longer just waiting to end.
summary: what is the best place to find a fake wife for the fire lord other than the brothel?
warnings: brothel setting, fem!reader, zuko has issues, reader also has issues, emotional damage, slowburn, fake relationship/marriage setup, power imbalance vibes (but we fix it later), sokka being sokka, debt situation, implied sex work setting (non-graphic), angst, atla spoilers;
word count: 4,3k
author notes: whew! here we go gaang. i’m very curious to know your opinions on this chapter. i couldn’t help myself so i added a lil bit of zukka. also, there are some easter eggs in the fic :D hope you enjoy!
“I have heard you keep… very good secrets around here,” Sokka whispers, one hand lifted near his mouth as though that somehow made him quieter. His eyes dart around the room suspiciously, checking corners and shadowed halls for any eavesdroppers.
No one was there.
The mistress merely raises a brow at him, entirely unimpressed. Sat lazily in her chair, she takes a slow drag from her pipe before blowing the smoke straight into Sokka’s face, making him cough.
“This place indeed is very private,” the woman replies, her voice roughened by years of smoke and age. “Private enough for the Fire Lord himself to visit and enjoy the company of one, or perhaps several, of my girls.”
Sokka’s eyes widen immediately. His gaze snaps between the woman and Zuko, who stood near the doorway wrapped in a long black cloak. The hood concealed most of his face, though not enough to truly hide him.
“How could you even tell?” Sokka blurts out in disbelief.
“The scar is rather difficult to miss,” the woman sighs.
“Oh.” Sokka shrugs. “Right. Forgot about that.”
Behind him, Zuko lets out a deeply offended sound.
“I told you this was not enough!” Zuko snaps sharply, glaring at his friend while tugging irritably at the dark fabric around his shoulders.
“Hey, it matches your outfit, alright?” Sokka defends himself quickly. He gestures between the cloak and his own belongings as if making a brilliant point. “Just like my bag matches my belt.”
Zuko stares at him silently, already regretting allowing Sokka anywhere near this plan.
The mistress clears her throat loudly, cutting through the argument.
“How may I help the Fire Lord?” she asks, now directing her full attention towards Zuko alone.
For a moment, Zuko says nothing.
His jaw instantly tightened beneath the shadows of the hood. He had faced armies, faced his father,and the worst of all — faced Azula. Yet somehow this felt worse. Because lying to his uncle was so unfair… he knew his uncle would be happy either way with any decision in the end. Yet, he still felt guilty for not being able to make at least one of his wishes come true. He didn’t want for Iroh to die with a heavy heart.
Still, he forces himself to step closer to the desk, then he takes a deep breath before speaking.
“I need to find a woman to be my wife,” he says finally.
The words sound absurd the moment they leave his mouth.
The mistress blinks once... twice.
Her pipe slips from her fingers and hits the wooden table with a loud clatter. For several long seconds, she simply stares at him as though she expects him to laugh and admit it was some sort of joke.
But Zuko’s expression never changes.
And the woman’s surprised expression slowly fades into skepticism as she straightens in her chair.
“You came to a brothel,” she says carefully, “to search for a wife?”
Even Sokka winces slightly at how ridiculous it sounded aloud.
Zuko feels heat crawl up the back of his neck beneath his collar as he nods once.
“When you say it like that, it sounds strange,” he agrees.
“Because it is strange,” the woman replies without hesitation. Her sharp eyes narrow as she studies him more carefully now, suspicion mixing with curiosity. “Most men come here seeking pleasure, not marriage.”
“I am not looking for love,” Zuko says quickly, almost too quickly.
The woman hums softly, leaning back again. She watches him the same way one might observe a wounded animal deciding whether or not to bite.
“I am certain many noble women across the nations would gladly marry the Fire Lord,” she continues. “You could choose any daughter from any wealthy family and have a wedding arranged before sunrise tomorrow.”
“I know.” Zuko exhales heavily through his nose before closing his eyes for a brief moment. “That is exactly the problem.”
His voice lowers quieter after that. Less defensive — more tired.
“I do not want to promise devotion I cannot give,” he admits. “I do not have time to become someone’s proper husband. I barely manage to rule my own nation correctly some days.”
The woman’s skeptical expression softens slightly, though not entirely.
“And yet you are still searching for a wife.”
Zuko’s gaze drops towards the wooden floorboards.
“It is important to my uncle,” he says quietly. “He wishes to see me settled before…”
The sentence dies in his throat unfinished and a sudden understanding flickers briefly across the mistress’s face.
Still, she remains cautious.
“So,” she says slowly, “you want a woman willing to stand beside you, wear royal robes, smile for the court… while knowing the marriage itself is not real.”
Zuko nods once again.
“Yes.”
The mistress studies him for a long moment after that. Not with judgment anymore, but disbelief, as though she still could not decide whether the Fire Lord standing before her was foolish or painfully sincere.
“That is strangely noble of you, My Lord,” she says at last.
“Are you saying that so he will not feel guilty before giving you money?” Sokka interrupts suddenly.
The woman turns towards him with such a deadly glare that Sokka instantly raises both hands in surrender.
“What kind of woman are you searching for?” the mistress asks, ignoring him completely.
Zuko pauses. Truthfully, he had not thought that far ahead.
Mai had been the only woman truly present in his life before this. He had loved her once, in his own difficult way, but they had never understood one another fully. Half their conversations had ended in silence or frustration.
“Appearance does not matter,” Zuko says after a long pause. “I only need someone who will listen to me… and understand me.”
Sokka gasps loudly beside him, visibly emotional.
“Oh, Zuko,” he says dramatically while clutching his chest. “But I am right here.”
He throws himself forward for an embrace, only for Zuko to plant an annoyed palm directly against his face before he can get close.
The mistress watches the two silently before shaking her head with faint amusement and a hint of doubt. Rising from her chair, she gestures towards the narrow hallway deeper within the building.
“My Lord, I will bring you our finest women,” she says calmly, not fully believing he actually means his words, “come with me.”
Before Zuko can protest, a dull thud echoes somewhere in the back of the establishment.
All three of them immediately turn towards the noise only to realize nothing was there.
“Are there… you know, ghosts here?” Sokka asks under his breath while nervously scanning the shadows around them.
“None that I know of. Only rats,” the mistress replies dismissively. “They are always finding their way inside. Ignore it.”
Zuko gives a small nod before stepping past Sokka and following after the woman. The wooden floor creaks beneath his boots as he steps towards the hallway.
“Wait here,” he tells Sokka over his shoulder just before vanishing around the corner.
“Are you leaving me alone in here with rats? The possible Ghosts!?” Sokka asks scared, while looking around, but Zuko is long gone.
***
The room she brought him into was dimly lit by dozens of candles, their warm glow dancing against the deep red walls and golden details carved into the architecture. Expensive silks draped elegantly from the ceiling, and the scent of incense lingered faintly in the air. Every part of the room spoke of luxury and exclusivity.
This was clearly reserved for the wealthiest clients.
Or, perhaps, for the Fire Lord himself.
Yet despite the comfort surrounding him, Zuko felt restless.
His fingers tapped quietly against the arm of the cushioned seat beneath him before stopping abruptly. He exhales slowly through his nose, shoulders tense.
He disliked this.
He disliked sitting here, waiting to choose a woman as if he was selecting fine jewelry from a merchant’s stall. He had clearly asked for someone easy to speak to, someone capable of understanding him, yet the mistress had looked at him with obvious disbelief the moment he claimed appearance did not matter.
She had agreed politely enough.
But Zuko was not foolish.
A woman like her, one who had spent years surrounded by men and their desires, clearly did not believe him. In her eyes, men always wanted beauty first. Everything else came after.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the sliding door opening softly behind him.
“Forgive my late arrival, My Lord.”
The voice was warm and gentle.
Zuko turns with a slight frown, only to see a woman around his age bowing respectfully near the doorway.
You were dressed in flowing white robes that hugged your figure, the silk expensive enough to shimmer beneath the candlelight. Red fire lilies had been embroidered along the hem of your sleeves and near the bottom of your robes, their crimson threads standing out against the fabric. Your hair had been pinned up carefully, with a flower pin, exposing the elegant line of your neck, while your nails were painted a dark shade of red.
Zuko studies you quietly for a moment.
By your appearance alone, he could already tell you were likely one of the women the mistress had proudly spoken of earlier.
“Did the mistress send you?” he asks at last.
“Yes, My Lord,” you reply before bowing once more.
Zuko sighs quietly and lowers his gaze.
His reaction does not escape your attention.
Silence settles briefly between the two of you, heavy yet strangely calm. Then you lift your eyes towards him carefully.
“Is something troubling you, My Lord?” you ask hesitantly, noticing the shift in his expression, as you make small steps towards him.
Zuko offers a faint smile, though it does not feel real.
“Everything is troubling me,” he admits with another tired sigh. “The council. My generals. My advisors. Everyone is constantly telling me what I should do.”
You remain quiet for a moment before speaking again.
“If I may ask…” your voice softens further, “what is it that you wish to do?”
The question makes him still completely.
Zuko’s lips press into a thin line as his gaze slowly lifts back on you, unreadable confusion flickering across his face.
What did he want?
The question felt so simple, ordinary.
And yet… he could not remember the last time anyone had asked him that. Or anything that is.
All his life had been spent serving others. First his father’s demands, then his nation’s expectations, then the burden of restoring balance after the war that his nation started. People had always decided his path for him long before he could even think to choose it himself.
Nobody had asked whether he wanted to become Fire Lord.
It had simply become necessary for peace — for the world.
Nobody had asked whether he was strong enough to carry the shame left behind by his father’s actions. Nobody had cared how deeply his mother’s disappearance wounded him, nor how much Azula’s madness haunted him still.
Even now, sitting in this place, he was not here because he desired marriage. He was here because of Iroh. Because every time he looked at his uncle, guilt coiled painfully tighter inside his chest.
If he refused this final wish…He knew he would regret it forever.
The realization leaves him staring at you silently, almost startled by the emotions rising inside him from such a small question.
“My Lord?” you ask gently once more.
Another pause follows.
Then finally—
“I…” Zuko exhales shakily. “I do not know.”
The confession comes quieter than he intended.
“I never really considered that what I want matters,” he continues after a moment. “People have always decided those things for me.”
The words leave him before he can stop himself.
You look at him differently after that. Not with fear, nor admiration reserved for royalty, but with something softer and somewhat understanding.
Carefully, you lower yourself onto the other seat beside him.
“If I may speak honestly, My Lord…”
Your voice wavers slightly.
“I think what you are doing is honorable. Choosing the happiness of others before your own is something very few people can truly do.”
Zuko’s eyes shift towards you again.
“I think,” you continue carefully, fingers tightening slightly against your robes, “that perhaps you have sacrificed so much for everyone around you that choosing something for yourself now feels selfish.”
Your gaze lowers briefly.
“But I do not believe it is.”
There is something painfully personal hidden beneath your words. As if you understood the feeling far too well yourself and you your words weren’t shallow.
Perhaps you, too, had spent your life placing the desires of others before your own. Perhaps that was how someone like you ended up in a place like this — serving, smiling, listening, while quietly abandoning every want of your own along the way.
Zuko simply stares at you. For once, he feels understood.
Not as the Fire Lord.
Not as Ozai’s son.
Just… understood.
The silence between you becomes strangely comforting.
Then suddenly—
The door slams open harshly.
“What are you doing here, you insolent girl?” the mistress’ sharp voice cuts through the room immediately.
Your body jerks violently at the sound. Startled, you quickly turn your head towards the entrance just as the older woman storms inside, fury written clearly across her face.
You instinctively get up and step back, but she reaches you quickly. The mistress grabs your arm harshly before beginning to pull you towards the exit.
Zuko moves before he can fully think.
He rises abruptly from the cushions, crossing the room in only a few steps before catching your wrist firmly.
The mistress turns to him in surprise.
“Wait.”
His voice comes sharper than expected. His fingers remain wrapped around your arm protectively.
“What are you doing, My Lord?” the old woman asks, confusion and disbelief mixing together. “You cannot possibly be interested in her,.”
She gestures towards you dismissively, making you look down.
“I summoned the finest women in this house. Women even nobles compete for. She is nowhere near what I prepared for you—”
“I do not care about those things,” Zuko interrupts firmly. “I already told you that.”
The mistress lets out a humorless laugh.
“My Lord, I know men,” she says while narrowing her eyes. “I have watched them all my life. I know how ruthless and insatiable they become.”
“You do not know me,” Zuko replies immediately.
The mistress tightens her grip around your arm before offering Zuko a strained smile. One clearly meant to remain polite despite the irritation hidden beneath it.
“You are simply overwhelmed,” she says carefully. “This girl only got in your head. Allow me to present the others I prepared instead.”
You lower your gaze immediately, remaining silent as her fingers pull more insistently at your arm.
Zuko’s hold loosens slightly.
Not because he truly wished to let go… but because uncertainty suddenly settled heavily inside his chest.
Perhaps the mistress was right.
He barely knew you.
You had only spoken for a few moments, yet somehow your words had reached places inside him most people never managed to touch.
The mistress begins leading you towards the doorway.
You stumble slightly before regaining your balance, the silk of your robes brushing softly against the wooden floor. Then, just before disappearing beyond the sliding doors, you turn your head towards him one final time.
Your eyes meet his.
The look on your face is calm, yet there is something quietly wounded hidden beneath it. Not surprise. Not anger.
Just… disappointment.
As though you had allowed yourself to hope for something, only for it to vanish moments later.
Something twists painfully inside Zuko’s chest. His lips part slightly, the urge to stop you rising suddenly in his throat, but the doors slide shut before he can say anything at all.
Silence settles around him again.
And for the first time since entering this place, Zuko feels as though he has made a mistake.
***
The room feels colder afterwards.
Or perhaps emptier.
Zuko sits stiffly against the cushions, one elbow resting against the carved arm of the chair while his fingers press absently against his temple. Candlelight flickers across the gold details decorating the walls, while soft music drifts faintly from somewhere deeper within the establishment.
Then the doors slide open once more.
The mistress enters first, followed by five women.
Each one was strikingly beautiful.
Their robes shimmered with expensive silk and fine embroidery, colors rich enough to rival royal garments. Gold jewelry rested elegantly against their necks and wrists, delicate chains glimmering beneath the candlelight. Their hair had been arranged carefully, adorned with jeweled pins and fragrant flowers, while subtle makeup highlighted their features perfectly.
Every movement they made appeared graceful and refined.
Exactly what someone would expect beside the Fire Lord.
The women spread themselves carefully throughout the room, some pouring tea while others smiled softly towards him. One begins turning slowly before him, allowing the silk layers of her robes to fan beautifully, showing her figure. Another kneels elegantly nearby, adjusting a golden bracelet against her wrist as though making certain he noticed it.
Zuko watches all of it in complete silence.
He should have been impressed.
Instead, he only feels tired.
At one point, his gaze drifts absentmindedly towards the doorway where you had disappeared earlier. Without meaning to, he begins comparing them to you.
The realization unsettles him immediately as he finds himself comparing those women to you.
You had worn no heavy jewelry. No complicated hairstyle. No bright gemstones or elaborate perfumes. Your beauty alone was enough. Your robes had been exquisite yes, but simple compared to these women. And yet somehow… your presence lingered in his mind far more strongly than theirs.
One of the women settles beside him gracefully, offering him a sweet smile.
“Fire Lord Zuko,” she says softly, fingers brushing delicately along the sleeve of his robes. “These garments must be worth a fortune. The craftsmanship alone is extraordinary.”
Zuko glances down briefly at the dark fabric before giving a small nod.
“The royal tailors work very hard,” he replies politely.
“How many tailors serve within the palace?” she asks curiously. “I heard even the servants there wear finer silks than nobles from other nations.”
Before Zuko can answer properly, another woman speaks eagerly from across the room.
“The Fire Nation palace must be enormous,” she sighs dreamily. “I cannot even imagine living surrounded by such luxury every day.”
A third woman leans forward slightly.
“Do you truly possess treasure vaults beneath the palace?” she asks with visible interest. “I once heard the royal family keeps enough gold hidden away to feed entire kingdom.”
The women laugh softly among themselves.
Zuko forces a polite expression onto his face, though discomfort slowly tightens in his chest.
Every question sounded the same.
The palace. Wealth. Status. Luxury.
None of them looked at him as though he were simply a man sitting before them. Only the Fire Lord. Only the crown resting invisibly upon his head.
One woman begins speaking excitedly about royal ceremonies while another asks about banquets held within the palace halls.
Zuko barely hears any of it.
Instead, his thoughts drift unwillingly back towards you.
Back to the way your voice had shaken slightly while speaking to him.
Back to the understanding in your eyes.
Back to the simple question you had asked him.
What is it that you wish to do?
No one else here had asked him anything remotely close to that.
One of the women laughs softly beside him, touching his arm lightly to regain his attention.
“My Lord?”
Zuko blinks faintly, pulled from his thoughts.
For the first time that evening, he realizes he does not wish to remain in this room at all.
“Call the mistress,” Zuko says simply as he rises from the cushions.
The women pause immediately.
One lowers the cup she had been holding while another exchanges a confused glance with the others. The soft laughter filling the room dies almost instantly, leaving only the quiet crackling of candle flames behind.
Zuko remains standing near the center of the room, shoulders tense beneath his dark robes. His expression is unreadable once more, though exhaustion lingers clearly behind his eyes.
One of the women bows quickly before slipping outside to obey his command.
The silence afterwards feels unbearably long.
Zuko exhales quietly and turns his gaze towards the flickering candles lining the walls. He had tried. Spirits knew he truly tried to convince himself this was reasonable. Easier.
Yet every conversation left him feeling emptier than before.
His mind kept drifting back towards you no matter how hard he attempted to focus on the women standing before him now.
The mistress arrives only moments later.
The moment she steps inside, a pleased smile already rests upon her face. Her sharp eyes briefly sweep across the room, taking in the elegantly dressed women surrounding the Fire Lord. Clearly, she believed the evening had finally gone as expected.
That Zuko had simply needed time to remember what men truly desired.
And that he had long since forgotten about you.
But the smile falters almost immediately the moment her gaze lands properly on him.
Zuko looked neither entertained nor impressed.
He looked tired.
His face remained blank, though there was a heaviness lingering that caused the mistress’ confidence to slowly waver.
“My Lord?” she asks carefully now, the certainty from before no longer present in her voice.
“I would like to speak with the girl from earlier again.”
The room erupts in gasps and whispers from the women, while the mistress goes still. For a brief moment, genuine disbelief crosses her face.
“…her?” she repeats slowly.
“Yes.”
The answer comes immediately this time.
The mistress studies him carefully, as though still attempting to understand whether this was merely stubbornness or something else entirely.
“My Lord,” she says cautiously, “surely one of these women would suit your needs far better. They are accomplished, elegant, admired even among nobility—”
“I know.”
Zuko’s voice remains calm, but firmer now.
“They are all very beautiful.” His gaze briefly flickers towards the women gathered around the room before returning to the mistress. “But none of them have spoken to me as though I were a person.”
The words cause several uncomfortable glances to spread through the room.
The mistress narrows her eyes slightly.
“And that girl did?”
Zuko grows quiet for a moment.
His thoughts return unwillingly to the look in your eyes when you were dragged from the room. That small, wounded expression he could not seem to forget.
“…Yes,” he answers softly.
Something shifts in the mistress’ expression then.
Not agreement, but understanding.
The mistress remains silent for a long moment, her sharp gaze lingering carefully on Zuko’s face as though searching for hesitation. And she finds none.
Still, her lips press together slightly before she finally speaks again.
“My Lord… that girl is not exactly free to leave this establishment whenever she pleases.”
Zuko’s brows furrow faintly.
“What do you mean?”
The mistress folds her hands neatly before her robes.
“She owes this house a rather significant debt,” she explains carefully. “Food, clothing, training, accommodations… the amount spent over the years was not small.” Her eyes narrow slightly. “And unlike these women, she does not bring nearly enough profit to repay it quickly.”
His gaze lowers briefly towards the wooden floorboards.
Of course there was a reason.
Someone like you — quiet, thoughtful, strangely sincere — never truly belonged in a place like this. Yet perhaps belonging had never mattered. Perhaps you had simply never been given another choice.
Zuko slowly lifts his eyes again.
“Money will not be a problem,” he says calmly.
“My Lord…”
“I will repay whatever debt she owes,” Zuko continues. “In full.”
A quiet murmur spreads among the women still gathered around the room, though Zuko pays them no attention.
The mistress studies him carefully now, disbelief slowly replacing her earlier confidence.
“You would spend such an amount for a girl you spoke with only once?” she asks cautiously.
Zuko falls quiet.
Truthfully… he did not fully understand it himself.
Maybe it was because you had spoken to him without fear. Maybe because you didn’t see his wealth only, but his feelings too. Or maybe it was because, after years of being surrounded by demands and expectations, your words had felt painfully honest.
Whatever the reason was, he could not force himself to ignore it.
“Yes,” he answers at last.
The mistress exhales slowly, almost amused despite herself.
“You truly are a strange man, Fire Lord Zuko.”
He says nothing in return.
After another long pause, the mistress finally inclines her head slightly.
“…Very well.”
She turns towards the doorway before stopping once more.
“But before making such arrangements official,” she says carefully, “perhaps you should speak with her properly first.”
“That is exactly what I want,” Zuko replies immediately.
“I do not wish to force her into this,” he explains more quietly. “Bring her back. I would like to speak with her again… and ask whether she would even want to be part of my plan.”
Something unreadable flickers across the older woman’s face then, but she gives a slow nod.
“As you wish, My Lord.”
The mistress leaves the room soon after, the women following quietly behind her until Zuko is finally left alone once more.
Silence settles around him again, softer this time.
Zuko lowers himself back against the cushions slowly, his gaze drifting towards the flickering candlelight dancing against the walls.
Usually, he ignored what he wanted. Usually, he buried those feelings beneath duty, responsibility, and the endless expectations resting upon him.
But this time…
This time, he thinks he would rather listen to himself.
Content warning: mdni!, suggestive themes, full term pregnancy, back labor, amniotic fluid, contractions, childbirth (explicitly described-waterbirth), precipitous birth, zuko catches the baby
a.n: A Mother’s Day special. Hi guys Atla has temporarily revived me, how have you guys been? Lol, I’ve been working on this for a while and I was nervous to post it honestly. The ending is a tad rushed I was legit fatigued at that point. Anywho…
Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms out there 💖
w.c: 5k
— —
He’s been more clingy now that you could have the baby any day now. He doesn’t want to leave your side, and that means if he has to go somewhere, you have to go too.
You stir in your seat for the fourth time, trying to get into a more comfortable position. Your belly is heavy and low since the baby dropped. So now your positions are limited—it’s either the left side, or the right side.
Zuko glances over his shoulder at you, for the tenth time, physically bothered and uptight by the fact that you’re not comfortable. He wants nothing to do with the throne he currently sits on. You give him a tired, reassuring smile and shift your hips a little. Zuko sighs quietly, nostrils flaring as he looks directly into the Chamberlain's eyes.
“Chamberlain.” Zuko interrupts the older man, a displeased look on his face. “Do you have anything urgent to address?”
“Oh—well, no, Fire Lord Zuko.” He bows quickly.
“Dismissed.” Zuko affirms, being the first to stand and leave.
He comes straight to you, helping you up out of your own overly padded ‘throne’, one hand under your elbow and the other on your hip.
“Up we go.” Zuko waits for you to find your balance, supporting you, his hand shifting from your hip to your belly. “He’s low.”
“How do you know he’s low? What if she’s low?” You reply, out of breath, feeling the pressure bud between your legs the longer you stand. You were hoping you wouldn’t have to waddle out of here in front of so many people. Zuko smiles, but it fades when he sees your face sour with discomfort.
“Where does it hurt?” He asks, guiding you out of the throne room. “Take your time.”
“My back.” You wince. Actually, your entire body aches. But you do your best not to show it.
“A warm bath, shall we?” Zuko suggests and you nod.
He mutters something like, ‘careful’, as he shifts and supports you down the stairs and into your living quarters.
“The avatar arrives in less than an hour.” Zuko regretfully informs you as he draws you a full bath. “We have a meeting.”
“Zuko…” You moan and lower yourself at a painfully slow rate onto the wooden chair in the bath room. You exhale slowly through pursed lips, a hand cradling underneath your bump. “I…I don’t think—I’m sorry, I can’t.”
Zuko abandons the filling tub and comes over to help slip your robe off you, a remorseful expression tightening his face. The moment your belly is exposed, his hands find it, caressing and feeling, his lips pressing into the crown of your head. He pulls back and lowers himself level to you, gently hooking his arms under yours.
“I know.” He mutters in a defeated way. He’s painfully aware that it’s unreasonable to expect you to accompany him everywhere he goes. Not when you’re so close to having the baby. “Come. It’s ready, darling.”
Zuko carefully tugs you up and you allow his strength to do all the work. You follow his movement, throwing your leg over the tub to get inside. He quickly turns off the pipe. The water is so warm and you can’t help the noise that bubbles up your throat when he lowers the rest of your body in. Immediately all that weight, the pressure, the aches, they’re all relieved from the water.
“Yeah? It’s that good?” Zuko chuckles softly, his eyes flicking down to your swollen breasts floating at the water's surface.
His jaw clenches and his eyes trail further down. Just underneath them lays your belly, as big and as round as ever. He's done this to you. Zuko feels pride bloom in his chest. If you’d allow it, he’d keep you pregnant and full with his heir each year that passes.
Perhaps he will.
“A little hotter, please.” You growl the last word, spreading your legs wide enough for the pressure to release from your pelvis. Oh, that position does something to Zuko. His cheeks tinge pink and he has a hard time looking away as you spread.
“Mhh—” He clears his throat and sits up straight, tugging his sleeves up his forearms. His hands dip into the bath, swirling in circular motions as the water heats up around you. You moan a sigh of relief. “It’s not good for you to have it any hotter than this, love.”
“It’s good. This is good.” You whisper as you lean back, resting your head against the pillow on the side of the basin. Your protruding belly button breaks the water's surface, along with your dark, puckered nipples.
Baths are becoming more frequent. They’re the only thing, aside from Zuko’s hands themselves, that are able to relieve some of these aches and pains.
Zuko reaches for the cloth and begins at your shoulders, wiping you down with the warm water. He wipes the back of your neck, dipping the cloth back into the water when it’s gotten too cold.
“Think he’s coming soon, Zuko.” You mumble mindlessly, focus on that little bit of pressure that never fades. The kind that makes you want to settle into a squat and stay there.
“Yeah? He is?” Zuko responds with a similar tone, but then his expression shifts to something less calm. His eyes check you over, narrowing as they graze over your belly that hangs heavily between your legs. “Darling,” His tone hardens, “…how soon?”
“Don’t know.” You mutter, eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of him dragging the cloth across your chest. “Feels like—her—head is right there.”
Zuko’s jaw tightens. How can he leave you now that you’ve said that?
“I’ll reschedule the meeting.”
“No, no.” It takes too much energy to say that, but you think he’s just being silly at this point. “It’s the avatar, Zuko.”
Zuko only laughs. The times that Aang has requested his presence or ‘help’ just for it to be a side quest or some air temple adventure—this is likely no different.
“He’ll survive without me.” Zuko says, shifting behind you now, dragging the cloth down your arms. He feels the water, and reheats it slightly, keeping it at the temperature you like best.
“Go, Zu. I’m going to be fine. I’ll probably be back in here when you’re finished.”
“And who will help you with that?” Zuko asks in all seriousness, as if attendees didn’t garnish this palace like jewels on a crown.
“Anyone.” You mumble, getting comfortable enough to doze off now.
“I don’t want just ‘anyone’ to undress you and put you in this bath, darling.” Zuko speaks under his breath, his tone sharp and controlled. His voice lowers to a hushed whisper, and his soft lips press into the shell of your ear. “That sight…is only for me to see.”
Your body breaks out into a shiver. You didn’t consider it like that.
“Yes, Fire Lord Zuko.” You smile dopily, letting your eyes close all the way. “I expect you will be delivering the baby then.”
There’s a pause, and silence. Zuko tenses behind you, the cloth stopping just on the back of your elbow. Then he answers sternly. “If I must, yes.”
You keep your eyes closed, but give him a smile anyways. “Understood, Fire Lord.”
“You make it sound like a joke.” He exhales harshly, dipping the cloth underwater now, wiping it gently between your breasts. “It isn’t.”
“Mm—I know, but you act as if I’ll vanish if you leave me for an hour.” You say with as little effort you can, you’re tired.
You feel his warm hands make their way over your tight nipples, and you moan softly.
“And if you do?” Zuko asks through a clenched jaw.
“You won’t lose me in an hour, Zuko.” You try to force as much finality into your voice, but your exhaustion settles deep in your bones. If you have to come out of this bath now, you’ll surely burst into tears.
“Logically…but—” Zuko doesn’t finish his sentence. His hand drags further down, and your belly hardens against the cloth. He looks up at you expectantly, just to witness your face tighten with discomfort. “You’re in pain all the time now.”
“It comes,” Your voice strains, and you breathe slowly through your mouth, feeling your body finally relax. “And goes.”
“That doesn’t make me any less…any less—”
“Any less, what?” You peek at him, and see his expression bounce between restraint and panic.
“Any less worried.” Zuko says, irritated with his own inability to find the words to explain his feelings. “It kills me…that I cannot make this better.”
“My Zuko…” You begin, turning your head to look at him properly. He looks tense. Like he has the world and more resting on top of him. “I don’t need you to make it better, I just need you here.”
“I am here.” He says. But being here didn’t feel like enough.
“Exactly.” You let your eyes slip shut, and as the word hangs in the air, he moves down to your thighs with the cloth. “Go meet with the avatar, Zuko.”
“I don’t want to leave you.”
“And I don’t want to leave this bath.”
Zuko almost chuckles, though it sounds more like a scoff. He wrings out the cloth and hangs it on the edge of the basin. “I will go to the meeting.”
“Mm.” You hum lightly, already half drifting off somewhere else.
“But I’ll be back immediately after.” He states earnestly, his mouth partially open like he’s not quite finished talking. “And if anything changes…anything, y/n. Send for me.”
“I’m in a bath, Zuko.” Your lips curl in your last attempt to reassure him.
“I don’t care.” He insists, showing you exactly how serious he is.
“Right. I will summon the Fire Lord from his meeting with the Avatar if my water gets too cold.” Now your smile is beaming, and you peek up at him again.
He is, too, smiling softly, that sweet smile. “Good. And don’t stay here too long. Actually, it’s better if I stay until you're ready—”
“No, go. I can get out of the bath on my own, Zu. Okay?”
Zuko leans in and presses his forehead against your temple. After a few long moments, he reluctantly pulls away. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”
Eventually, Zuko leaves after returning many times. Each time he’d get a little farther, he’d turn back. Say his goodbyes again, give you another kiss on the head. Rub your belly and tell his unborn wa that he’ll be back soon.
By the time he walked through the doors of the throne room, Aang and Katara were already seated and waiting for his arrival. As Zuko walks in, all of the attendees and servants stand and bow. He walks past them, shoulders square and head straight, ready to end the meeting before it even starts. As Zuko approaches the long, narrow table, Aang rises to his feet and turns to Katara. Zuko immediately recognizes the movement, the way he hunches forward to provide his body as leverage, the positioning of his arms—the patience.
So when he sees Katara clutching onto Aang for support with one hand, and the other under the swell of her stomach, Zuko intervenes.
“Avatar Aang.” Zuko greets his long-time friend with a firm squeeze of his shoulder.
“Fire Lord Zuko.” Aang addresses him properly as he helps Katara out of her seat. “Please, sit.” Zuko insists, resting his hand on Aang’s wrist to stop him. Katara sits back down with a warm smile, her small bump nestled high under her ribcage. Zuko notes that she doesn’t seem any further than six months.
“Katara. You look well.” Zuko says respectfully. Has that much time really passed since he last saw them?
Katara smiles, but the exhaustion is evident in the slight discoloration under her eyes. “Thank you, Zuko.”
“Zuko.” Aang’s tone turns grave, and Zuko picks up on it right away. This isn’t going to be one of his fun adventures or side quests, he can sense that much in the pit of his already uneasy stomach.
Zuko finally takes his seat, his eyes glancing over Katara’s bump, and then to the doors before landing back on Aang. He’s distracted. And it’s clear as day.
“This must be very important for the both of you to make the journey here. Please, let’s begin.”
But before the first document is presented, Zuko is already elsewhere mentally. His mind runs on you, how you’re probably—finally—struggling to step out of that bath on your own.
What if you slip?
Or how you’re probably clutching your back as you shuffle into bed with your hair wet.
What if you get sick?
All of his intrusive thoughts drive him further away from where he is. It’s Aang’s voice, which seems to fade in and out as he outlines each concern, that forces Zuko out of his thoughts.
Hours pass like days, and Zuko is more tormented than ever. Every point piles on top of him, like one boulder after the next—the weight of the world weighing heavier on his shoulders.
And the cherry on top is you.
—
You’re still in the bath, but the water's gone cold. And despite your promise, you refuse to call the Fire Lord to come reheat it. You know this meeting is of great importance, and your duty as Fire Lady in this moment is to ensure it goes uninterrupted.
But you didn’t expect it to last for hours.
Another wave of fire floods your lower back and you grit your teeth and breathe through it. Your fingers clutch onto the edge of the tub as your knees settle into the floor of the basin. The pressure worsens each time your back flares up.
The pains huddle closer together, less space and breaks between them. You get to the point where you start rocking side to side, contorting your body as best you can into whatever position that provides a bit of relief.
But relief never comes.
You glance over at the window—the sun is setting and the sky is a beautiful blood orange. Interrupting a diplomatic meeting to complain about back pain won’t be your proudest moment. But now that you’re trying to get out of the tub and can’t, it’s something you’re going to have to do.
Because this might not be just back pain.
“Guard!” You whimper out, voice shaky but strong. Metal footsteps hastily clink towards you and stop just outside of the door.
“Fire Lady—”
“Get my husband! Oh—get Zuko, now!”
“Yes, Fire Lady.”
—
Aang finally introduces the final point—the resistance of some of the fire nation colonies, and how that’s been a significant threat lately to the balance of things. Zuko just nods and glances over at the door once again.
“…if we don’t approach this correctly, it could turn into a war that neither of us want…you do understand that?” Aang follows Zuko’s gaze to the door, “Zuko?”
“Yes. I understand and I agree. We will need to approach it strategically.” Zuko begins, growing more tense as that feeling inside him starts ringing like a siren. “I apologize. My mind is in two places at once, today.”
“If I have to be honest, Zuko. You look like you want to bolt out of your chair.” Katara jests carefully.
Zuko looks away from the door, right at Aang and Katara. He didn’t think it was that obvious. He never wanted to come off as uninterested. He swallows quickly, huffing a sigh.
“My wife is due any day.” Zuko admits, fixing his slightly curved posture. “She was very…uncomfortable when I left her.”
Katara’s expression softens, and Aang goes rigid.
“We understand.” Katara says as she looks over at Aang.
Suddenly, the doors burst open, and a young, breathless attendee stumbles in and onto the carpeted floor. He scrambles to his feet and bows as low as he can.
“Fire Lord Zuko, I—I apologize.” The attendee heaves in a grating breath, and Zuko’s body primes to act, to do, to run. “Th-the Fire Lady—,” He gasps loudly and Zuko immediately stands, his chair screeching behind him, his hands gripping the corners of the table.
“Speak!” Zuko commands.
“The Fire Lady requests your presence at once!”
Zuko is already moving around the table, his voice thick with worry, “What happened?”
“The Fire Lady said only to fetch you, Lord Zuko.”
“My apologies.” Zuko huffs as he hastily passes Aang and Katara.
“Go. We’ll stay here.” Aang projects his voice. Katara’s hand instinctively hovers over her spirit water pouch, like she wants to follow and help.
— —
When Zuko bursts through the door to your living quarters he doesn’t see you in the bed with damp hair like he imagined. His heart slams into his ribcage, and he immediately rushes into the bath room.
There he finds you perched on the edge of the tub, curved back heaving from heavy, uneven breaths, belly hanging tight underneath. It looks bad, worse than usual, actually. Your face is hidden in your crossed arms, and your hips wade side to side half submerged in the water.
Zuko shouts your name, closing the distance between you in a few strides, adrenaline high. You raise your head from your arms, revealing a face screwed with pain, and Zuko sinks to a crouch in front of you. His fingers comb away your sweaty hair from your face.
“You’re back in the bath, my love.” Zuko says it like a question as his eyes search yours, slightly confused and mostly concerned. His hand leaves your face, shaking slightly as it dips into the water. His pupils blow when the horrifying realization hits him the second the water registers as cold—
“This is the same bath I left you in.” Zuko’s voice shakes with restraint.
He quickly strips himself of his robes and enters the tub behind you, water sloshing out the sides and onto the floor. Anger bubbles inside him, anger directed towards himself.
“You’ve been in here for hours.” He growls.
“Zuko…” You sob weakly as heat floods your pelvis in the most excruciating way, and the pressure makes your legs spread further.
“Okay, breathe. Breathe.” Zuko coos as he heats the water with his body as fast as he can without hurting you. “Talk to me darling, is it your back?”
You nod your head desperately, and a deep, lengthy groan erupts from your throat. The sound of it makes Zuko grit his teeth. His hands move quickly to your back, pressing firmly against it, his thumbs massaging deep into the tissue.
“You should have sent for me sooner.” He grinds out a tight jaw, careful and deliberate with his every movement. “How long has it been like this?”
You shake your head, unable to speak during. Zuko waits patiently, massaging your back as he continues to heat the water. His eyes scan you like he’s trying to figure out what is about to happen next. These didn’t seem like the usual back pains you’ve been getting lately.
“F-Few hours…haah, my back—oh, there’s pressure,” you cry softly the second it’s over, and Zuko embraces you from behind, pulling you gently into his chest. You allow your head to fall back onto his shoulder as you reestablish your breath. “I—I can’t get out…”
The thought of you here, trapped and cold, makes his stomach twist. His hands instinctively slide over your belly, yearning to connect, fingers pressing softly as he checks the position of the baby. Much lower.
“I’m here. Does the pain come and go?”
Your eyes slam shut, and your breath catches in your throat. The pain is back, and the pressure is at an all time high. You begin groaning again, even louder this time. Zuko supports you in the water, his body hot against your back. But not even that helps you. Zuko’s fingers splay across your stomach as it pulls closer to you—tightening up.
“Oh.” Zuko breathes, looking down into the warped water to see your stomach seized in a way he’s never seen before. “These are contractions.”
And it hasn’t been long between this one and the last one.
How close are you exactly?
“Wha—aah!” You’re cut off by the pressure morphing into something else entirely. You grab his forearm, using everything in you to hoist yourself up. “Zuko…I need the toilet!”
Zuko’s heart leaps into his throat and he tries to swallow it down. He’s only able to say your name before he finds himself holding you up, bringing you both to a standing position.
Once the cold air hits your thighs, gravity comes into play and the pain concentrates in your pelvis now. The tightening crests, leaving you shaking as you slump back into Zuko entirely.
“I’ve got you.” He says through a ragged breath, securing you properly in his hold. “Breathe darling, I have you.”
Your body jolts against him and there’s a popping sensation inside your pelvis. Once cold thighs flood with warmth, and then there’s the distinct sound of water hitting water. Zuko looks down in awe, and so do you.
“My water…My water broke.” You whisper shakily, that feeling intensifying by the second.
“Yes.” Zuko breathes hard, his hand quickly slipping between your thighs. The world stops spinning when his fingertips catch something soft, yet firm. Instinct drives his hand, tugging your leg to the side as he maneuvers and looks, really looks. And what he sees makes his eyes bulge, confirming what he thought he felt.
“Ohh—Zuko! Zuko! It hurts!” A scream erupts from you, and you give in to this feeling of push.
Zuko acts quickly, lowering you back into the bath. You find yourself settling into a deep squat. Meanwhile, Zuko doesn’t have time to think, to call for the palace physician or even Katara—he only has time to act. He kneels behind you, hands instinctively moving into position between your legs.
With a growl, your body bears down and you topple forward, gripping on to the edge of the basin. Zuko steadies you with one hand, keeping the other ready under the water. He watches as your body shakes and strains with effort, your finger tips white around the basin.
“That’s it.” His voice is rough but raw with emotion, his baby’s head emerging a little further. Zuko feels as you stretch, his mouth agape at the sheer power you’re exhibiting. “Our baby’s coming, y/n. You’re so strong.”
The contraction fades, leaving you utterly wrecked and your breath hitching repeatedly. Mere seconds pass before the next wave crashes over you, sucking you back into the blinding pain.
“I can’t do this.” You barely whimper before your body pushes again. You make a noise you didn’t know you were capable of making, something primal and sacred.
“But you are.” Zuko murmurs, overcome with emotion. He feels the baby’s head transcend further, and your thighs begin to shake tremendously. “Darling, you’re doing it.”
“It burns!” You yelp, trying to shift away from the blossoming fire.
“I…I know.” Zuko grimaces, his instinct screaming protect. But this isn’t something he can protect you from. “Pant for me, baby. Small pushes.”
You shake your head as you pant loudly and quickly, tears streaming down your red cheeks.
With a guttural grunt you feel a sudden release, and Zuko gasps loudly behind you. “The head…the head is out, y/n.”
Shock sputters from you in short gasps, and you reach into the water to feel the baby’s head. It’s the softest thing you’ve ever felt in your entire life— soft fuzzy hair, stuck to their skull. You burst into tears, snotty, sobbing sounds ripping from your chest.
Zuko leans in to sprinkle haphazard kisses on your temple and cheek, and then he quickly settles back and readjusts how he supports the baby’s head.
“One more push, darling. Please.” Zuko pants, and immediately you’re shaking your head. You want this baby out more than anything, but the thought of continuing is absolutely terrifying.
It’s too much.
“It’s almost over. And then we’ll have our baby, okay? Breathe.” Zuko quickly and carefully slides his finger around the baby’s neck, automatically checking for the cord. Relief flashes across his face when he finds nothing there—everything is going the way it should.
A low groan rumbles from you, and Zuko is already bracing himself, readying himself to catch. His stomach lurches when your groan ramps up to a bloodcurdling scream, and your body curves from strain.
“That’s…that’s perfect…” Zuko mutters when he feels the head turn and drop further into his hands, and he begins guiding the shoulders free. “Push, push.” Zuko encourages you, and you do, helpless against the force of it.
You push with everything you have left.
In the next second, you feel a rush that's impossible to comprehend and the baby slips right into Zuko’s hands. You gasp hard for air and your body trembles violently from depletion.
“Oh.” Zuko sucks in a broken, sharp breath, mesmerized by how tiny and delicate they feel in his hands.
Zuko moves fast, purely off instinct, one hand firmly supporting and guiding the baby forward, through your shaking thighs, bringing them up against your chest. His other arm curls tightly around your middle, carefully pulling your exhausted body back against him before you can slump too far forward.
“Oh, Zuko.” The words break apart when you look down to see your baby’s scrunched, slightly blue face. Still. Not breathing. Horror blooms inside you and you panic. “Zuko?…Zuko!”
“I know, come on.” Zuko whispers roughly, his hand rubbing the baby’s back vigorously. “Let us hear you, come on.”
After a second that feels like an eternity, a wail pierces the air. Tiny, but strong. So strong. And loud.
You sob as your body sags in relief and exhaustion, and Zuko lets out a breathy laugh before his own tears burst free like a dam.
The baby slowly flushes to a healthy pink, and their bottom lip trembles. Zuko continues to rub her back, soaking in each moment like a sponge. And that’s when he notices.
“There it is. She’s okay. She’s perfect. Strong like her mother.” Zuko huffs, turning his attention down at you against his chest.
“She?” You barely whisper, smiling weakly. “She’s okay. She’s okay.” Each word comes out a little softer, a little more slurred.
He analyzes every line in your expression, every bead of sweat budding from your forehead. You look exhausted. You had just given everything to bring his child into the world, and it was his honor to witness it.
“You just…you did it, y/n.” Zuko watches as your eyes unfocus, and his chest tightens. “Hey. Stay with me.”
Zuko’s distant voice echoes in your head, and you concentrate to look at him. The pain is constant, an aching throb that stings hotter than venom.
“Tired…hurts.” You manage to mutter, glancing down at your baby squirming on your chest.
“I know, baby.” Zuko whispers, desperately comforting himself with the reminder that the best healer in the water tribe is sitting in his palace now. “You’re okay—Guard!” Zuko shouts the last word, looking over at the door of the bath room.
Hurried footsteps approach and stop just outside of the door. “Fire lord Zuko.”
“Get the physician! Bring Katara!” Zuko gives the order and returns his attention to you.
“At once, Fire Lord.”
Zuko sees your eyes flutter, and jostles you to keep you awake. “Stay awake, darling.”
You move against his chest, heavy eyes flicking down at the baby cooing against your chest. “Zuko. You…did it. Like you said.”
Relief pulses through Zuko when it registers, you’re speaking of what he said earlier. That he’d deliver the baby if he needed to. He smiles down at you, adjusting the hold he has around his entire world. “Yes, my Fire Lady. As promised.”
A slow tightening breaks your concentration, and you find yourself seizing up against him. A soft groan rumbles from you, and your eyes squeeze shut.
A contraction?
“What is it?” Zuko asks, panicked.
“The afterbirth.”
Katara appears breathless in the doorway, one hand braced against the frame and the other resting beneath the swell of her stomach. Aang lingers quietly behind her, relief relaxing his face.
“You’re okay, you did so well,” Katara reassures gently, already moving closer. Her eyes flick briefly to the baby and soften. “She’s beautiful. Just a little more, okay? Then you’re all done.”
The physician follows quickly behind, bowing once before moving to assist. Everything overlaps into one big blur around you.
Katara’s calm voice. Zuko’s hand never leaving you. The tiny warmth of your daughter, squirming against your chest. The physician’s quiet reassurance that she is healthy—her congratulations. But everything feels distant.
Distant but safe.
You focus on Zuko’s touch, and the babe that he’s now fully supporting against your bare chest as your arms fall limp either side of you.
“It was a good thing you were here,” Aang says quietly from the doorway.
Zuko barely hears him, because his attention never leaves you. Nor the tiny babygirl tucked safely against you.
“Yes,” Zuko says softly, brushing sweaty strands from your forehead.
Summary: As you settle into your new house, Joel grows worried that you'll soon realize you're too good for him. You take offense and remind him whose bed he's sleeping in.
This was an anon request: "Please I’m begging you on my hands and knees for pt.3 of slimy Joel. I need to see them lovey dovey & f*ck nasty in the new house", but the original post wasn't showing in the tags, so we are reposting, so if you saw this a few minutes ago b/c you follow me, no you didn't.
Pairing: Pervy!Joel x Fem!Reader
Content warnings: alternative continuation to "Slimy" (see Pervy!Joel masterlist) mention of Viagra, unspecified age gap (whatever floats your boat), jealousy & insecurity, subby Joel, more dominant reader, dirty talk, angst, one mention of Joel's gut (duh), oral (F receiving), ruined orgasm, power play?, use of handcuffs, protected P-in-V, spanking, orgasm denial, heart-to-heart in the middle of sex, unexpected Daddy kink moment (if you don't want to be surprised, see end author's note)
Word count: 3,758
Read on ao3 here | Pervy!Joel Masterlist
Author's note: SHE'S FINALLY HEREEE!!! this anon has been in my inbox since late March, so whoever that was, I hope this was worth the wait! this is the (overdue) 400 follower celebration post!!! thanks for being here and reading and liking and commenting and reblogging!!!! it means the world to me!!!! also deviating from the one word title theme here because it worked too well and I didn't love the idea of titling it "Jealous" or something, so here we are, referencing Angelina Jolie in Mr. & Mrs. Smith. 500 follower celebration will hopefully be out sometime next week. I was too ambitious to say it could be posted the day after this. it's also the first taste of real angst for the Doctor Google universe, and I wanna get it right. anyways again, thanks first and foremost for 400 followers! I love you, please enjoy!!!
Panting, lying on the mattress with no bedframe in the middle of your new bedroom, Joel asks, “The hell is this?”
He just spent the last three hours, hopped up on Viagra, fucking you in all the rooms in your house, finishing here in your bedroom, and you’ve slipped something cool and metal into his sweaty palm.
Joel holds the item up in front of his face and bites back a smirk.
You’ve given him a goddamn spare key to your new house.
Oh, somebody likes him…
“Tell me, darlin’, would this happen to be the key to the shed you got in your backyard?” Joel asks, turning on his side to look at you, your breasts still heaving as you regain your composure.
You just roll your eyes and fix your gaze on the fast-moving ceiling fan above you.
Joel smiles and inches his face closer to yours.
“Or maybe it’s the spare key to your car? Hm? Am I gettin’ warmer?” he whispers in your ear.
You can feel his breath on your skin, but still you study the movement of the ceiling fan rather than entertain Joel.
“No? Hm, well… Maybe–and this is a wild guess–this key is the spare to this very house? Your new home?”
You roll your eyes and look down at the key in his hand. “I’ll take it back if you’re gonna be a—”
Joel immediately lies back and holds his hands up in mock surrender.
“Nope. I get it. This was a sweet thing for you to do. Even I know when to quit,” he says.
But does he?
A week later, you’re in the middle of unclogging your rain gutter. You looked it up; it was supposed to be easy, and it probably is, but it’s so fucking stuck, and you’re pulling so hard.
“Need some help?” asks a voice you don’t recognize.
You brush your hands off on your shorts and look up at a tall, slender man. Probably in his mid-thirties.
“Sorry?”
The man gestures toward the rain gutter. “Is it clogged?”
“Oh. Yeah, I’m struggling with it. I just moved in last week, and the forecast is calling for rain this weekend, so I’m trying to get it together, y’know?” you say, chuckling.
“Well, I’m Nick, three doors down on your right. House with the blue shutters. Anyway, I had the same problem when I moved in. If you’d like some help, I’d be happy to.”
You introduce yourself to Nick and accept his help, which takes the form of directing his leaf blower into the top of it, which does the trick.
You’re in the middle of thanking him when big hands wrap around your waist.
“Howdy, buddy.”
Nick looks up from demonstrating something related to the drain and makes eye contact with Joel.
“Uh, hi,” Nick says, clearly caught off guard, smiling nervously.
Joel extends his right hand out to Nick, but keeps the left one tight on your waist.
“I’m Joel. Gotta say, I find it mighty kind that you offered this sweetheart some big, manly help.”
“Nice to meet you, Joel. I’m Nick,” he says brightly, not quite catching Joel’s meaning as he shakes the man’s hand.
“Uh, I was just helping your lady with the drain pipe, just being neighborly.”
“Joel’s just my friend,” you correct, all too quickly for Joel’s liking.
Behind you, Joel shakes his head and smirks, as if to say to Nick, “Don’t believe this chick; I was balls deep in her just yesterday.”
“Uh, well, either way…” Nick says awkwardly, getting the feeling Joel would like some alone time with you, regardless of the true nature of your relationship. “We actually have a neighborhood get-together every other month. I’m hosting next Saturday at 4:00. You should come. Both of you.”
You smile kindly at Nick and step to the side, forcing Joel to let go of your waist. “I think that sounds great. But I think next weekend is when you have that work trip, isn’t it?” you say, looking from Nick to Joel, hoping to God that once again Joel will “know when to quit.”
Joel puts his hands on his hips and smiles, but you think it might be somewhat forced.
“Well, I’m not sure, but just for you, I’ll check my schedule,” he says. Then he looks at Nick. “Thanks for the invite.”
Nick nods and mumbles a soft goodbye, then picks up his leafblower and heads home.
Without another word, you walk straight into your house, locking the door behind you.
You hear the door rattle, then you hear the key turn in the lock.
Fuck. You’re really regretting that now.
“What?” Joel bellows from the entryway, the sound carrying over to the living room where you sit on the couch. “ You embarrassed by me? That it? Don’t want your new fancy, suburban neighbors to know who you’re in bed with? Hm? Or is it that you got big ole heart eyes for Nick now? You move outta the trailer park and trade me in for a newer model?”
You scoff. Is he really being serious? He’s insecure? Joel Miller? The guy who smokes in his boxers on his front porch?
“God, you’re unbelievable,” you groan, leaning forward until your head touches your thighs.
“Well, ya ain’t denyin’ it,” he grumbles. “All I ask is that you’re straight up with me.”
“Okay, straight up? You’re acting like an insecure jerk!” you bite back, your head shooting up to get a good look at him.
That, paired with your angry expression, shuts Joel up for a second. He’s not the most in tune with his emotions, but then he didn’t think you were either. Maybe he did feel a pit settle in his stomach when he pulled into your driveway and saw you laughing at another (much younger) man’s joke. This man, who lives in a nice neighborhood instead of a trailer park and wears polo shirts instead of t-shirts and plaid, is probably a more appropriate choice for you now that you’re moving up in the world.
Aside from that, why is the prince unclogging your rain gutter and not Joel? Joel, who is admittedly rough around the edges, foul-mouthed, but incredibly capable of doing all kinds of arduous labor. Why not just ask Joel to do the simple task of unclogging your rain gutter?
“You fucking–”
You raise your eyebrows in response. “What, Joel? You never have a problem talking. What cat’s got your tongue?”
Joel narrows his eyes and picks up the throw pillow at the end of the couch, and throws it at your lap.
“That one!”
Your brows crinkle in irritation as he throws a fucking pillow at your crotch. You grab it and throw it back at him, hitting him in his soft gut.
“Fuck you!” you whisper-shout, now standing at your full height.
“My fucking pleasure,” he growls, pulling you to him by looping a finger in the elastic of your cotton shorts.
Joel tugs your bottoms and panties down, then shoves your thighs backward, causing you to lie back on the couch again.
He doesn’t waste any time; he starts licking at your pussy, but harder than he ever has before. It almost feels scratchy, like an animal’s tongue, but you’re too angry to say anything. You just lie back, your head resting on the arm of your couch, and let Joel work his frustrations out on your cunt. If nothing else, you know you’re at least getting an orgasm out of this.
Usually, Joel blubbers on and on with his lips moving sloppily against your pussy while he eats you out, but you don’t hear a peep from him besides his heavy breathing.
Obviously, he’s genuinely upset about something, but he’s a grown man of 47 years of age. If he wants to have a mature conversation with you, he can, but you won’t force anything out of him.
Even angry, the man can eat the fuck out of your pussy, alternating the length of his licks, the shapes he draws on your clit with his tongue. He squeezes your thighs around his head and practically breathes you in.
“Fuck, I’m close,” you whine.
Joel sucks your clit in between his teeth, and just before that coil in your lower belly has the chance to snap, he pulls away, wiping at his chin with the back of his hand.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” you shriek as Joel stands back up.
“No,” he says, a bit of a bite in his tone. “I ain’t fuckin’ kiddin’. You have fun at your neighborhood block party.”
Joel storms out of your house, leaving you with your shorts around your ankle, and you don’t hear from him for a week and a half.
//
You end up going to the get-together that Nick mentioned, hoping to make a good impression on your neighbors. They all seem to be nice people, if a bit boring. Just a bunch of polo and khaki-wearing PTA presidents. Not really your kind of people, but there isn’t anything wrong with socializing with them.
Nick asks you where Joel is, and you tell him that he did end up having a work trip, which puts too bright a glint in the man’s eye for your liking.
You’re one of the first to leave, and when you get home, you sit on your couch with a rom-com on the TV with a half-finished pint of ice cream in your hands.
What you need right now is to get fucked, what you want is Joel, but you don’t want to let him think he can get away with taking his insecurity out on your pussy and leave without speaking to you for over a week.
So you press the call button on his contact and wait for him to pick up.
“Does somebody miss me?” His voice is smug, and he’s obviously fucking pleased you were the first to break.
“Joel.” You feign worry as you speak. “Fuck, my bathroom sink won’t turn off. I don’t know what happened. It’s gonna flood the whole damn house, and I just spent a lot of money moving in here; I don’t really have the funds for a plumber or–”
“I’m on my way,” he says, the smugness in his voice immediately gone before he hangs up.
Perfect.
As you wait for Joel to arrive, you head to your bedroom after turning off the television and putting away the ice cream, where you light a candle to set the mood. You remove your clothes and freshen up in the bathroom before checking your drawer to make sure the item you need is there.
Shortly after, you hear the rumble of Joel’s truck approaching your driveway, the slam of the driver’s side door, and then the turn of the key in your front door.
“Baby?” he calls out.
He thought he’d hear running water, maybe a few frustrated shouts from you if your sink is on the brink of flooding your house.
When he turns the corner to your bedroom attached to your bathroom, he stops dead in his tracks.
You’re naked, posed on the bed like you’ve been lying in wait to seduce him.
“Oh… I take it someone got lonely?” he teases as he approaches your bed. “Somebody miss their daddy?”
You don’t say anything; you just smile softly and watch his hand wrap around your ankle and pull you toward him.
Joel smirks down at you and leans forward, balancing on his hands. He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, which you reciprocate, but otherwise you stay still.
He keeps kissing you and lets his hands roam your body like he’s trying to memorize it.
After a few moments, you bury your hand in his hair and tug gently so you can look him in the eye, then whisper in his ear, “I wanna ride you.”
A smile creeps up Joel’s lips, and he stands up straight, unbuttoning his cotton button-down.
You arrange the pillows in a comfortable setup for him while he shucks off his jeans and kicks off his shoes.
Once he’s comfortable, sitting up against the headboard, you throw a leg over his lap and start grinding your cunt over his erection.
“I think you missed me, Joel,” you whisper.
He huffs and raises an eyebrow, but for once in his goddamn life, he lets you do the talking.
“I think you felt real stupid leaving my house last time. I bet you thought about this pussy,” you continue, grinding against his shaft a little harder as you say “pussy.”
You take his hands and cover your breasts with them, and he instinctively squeezes.
“Bet you missed these, too,” you purr.
He only moans in response and rubs his thumbs over your nipples.
Then you take his hands by the wrists and hold them up.
“I want you to close your eyes for me,” you say.
“...Why?” he asks skeptically, raising an eyebrow.
“‘Cause it’ll be fun,” you sigh, trying not to get annoyed.
Joel rolls his eyes, then shuts them with a huff.
“For you, maybe,” he grumbles under his breath.
You take hold of both his wrists with one hand and, slowly and as quietly as possible, reach into your bedside table’s drawer. You pull the item out as quietly as possible and push Joel’s joined wrists to rest against the headboard.
Joel shivers when he feels the metal of your headboard’s spindles brush against his skin, and then he hears a clicking sound, and he blinks his eyes open.
He tries to pull his hands away, but he can't. He’s stuck.
You fucking bitch.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” he demands.
You shrug and reach back into your drawer for a condom.
“I’m not the woman you ghost for a week because you got insecure,” you say as you rip the condom wrapper open. “That’s a start.”
Joel rolls his eyes and pulls on the cuffs again, but it’s no use.
Even in your anger, neither of you is a monster, so you ask, “Is this okay?”
He glares at you, but still nods, mumbling, “Yeah, do your thing.”
You chew on the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling, then roll the condom on Joel’s cock and pump your hand over the length of it a few times.
Once he’s whining and practically huffing like a bull out of the sheer effort it’s taking him to not run his fucking mouth, you line him up and sink down on him.
Joel swallows his groans and keeps his lips pursed into a tight line while you moan at the stretch of him, throwing your head back and exposing the column of your throat to him in a way that looks all too enticing.
“Listen,” you begin, placing your hands on his chest to balance while you slowly begin raising your hips before lowering them back down again. “The fact that you thought even for a second that I’m the kinda woman who falls for guys in polos is insulting in and of itself. Got it? The mere thought, Joel.”
He doesn’t say anything, so you reach out and pinch his nipple, which finally pulls a curse from his mouth.
“Oh, Jesus, fuck! Fuck, I got it! Goddammit!” he growls.
You beam down at him and lean forward to kiss the nipple you pinched, soothing his skin with your soft lips, then you look up again.
“Good. Know what else I gotta get through that thick skull of yours?”
It’s a rhetorical question, Joel knows it, so he just keeps glaring at you while you bounce up and down on his cock.
“I am not the kind of woman who receives ruined orgasms,” you state with all the poise of a politician. “Do you understand, Joel?”
He huffs through his nose, but this time, he nods. “I understand.”
You smile at his compliance and lean down again to kiss his collarbone and neck, growing more and more pleased with yourself with each breathy sound Joel lets out.
“Good boy,” you murmur against his skin.
You’re surprised to hear him fucking whimper in response, prompting you to look straight at him.
“You liked that,” you whisper teasingly.
Joel just pants in response. You’ve been slowly fucking yourself on his cock for about six minutes now, and he hasn’t had an orgasm in ten days, with the exception of masturbating to old nude photos you sent him yesterday because he got restless.
“Joel,” you croon, tilting your head to the side. “Admit it.”
His chest is rising and falling rapidly now, clearly struggling to keep it together.
“Fuck,” he pants. “Shit, I-I liked it,” he whispers.
“What was that? Didn’t quite catch that, baby boy,” you say, furrowing your brow like you really don’t know what he said.
He rolls his eyes and pulls on the cuffs again like a petulant child.
“Fuck me, I liked you callin’ me a good boy,” he whines.
You smile and clench your pussy around him, which pulls a throaty moan from him.
“Who’s your daddy now?” you murmur, holding back a laugh at how silly the words feel coming out of your mouth.
“Fuck, honey, please just fuck me, so I can come, please,” he begs pathetically.
“Not yet.”
“Please.”
“No!” you groan. “You come when I say you can.”
Joel whines and tugs on the cuffs again.
“At least let me touch you,” he begs. “Please, I gotta feel that sweet body, baby, I missed it!”
You can’t deny that you’ve always loved his hands on you–his calloused palms coming down on your ass, the rough pads of his thumb and index finger pinching your nipple, his fingers tugging on your hair, his arms around your body–it’s all amazing.
After too long a moment of deliberation, in Joel’s opinion, you unlock one of the cuffs, his left one.
“Just the one,” you say sternly.
Normally, Joel would argue, but he can tell you need whatever tonight is, so he keeps his mouth shut and immediately brings his left hand down on your ass.
You let out a clipped shout of pleasure, then immediately grind your teeth together.
“Little fucker,” you mutter under your breath.
Joel smirks for the first time since he walked in here and spanks you again, pulling a blissful moan from your lips. “Yeah, well, you’re the one who cuffed me to your bed and is lettin’ me spank you.”
“Mm!” You catch his wrist before he delivers a third spank. “You’re just pissed; you’re not even spanking me for either of our pleasure, asshole!”
That stops Joel, his wrist going limp in your hand.
“I wanna be good enough for you,” he says, like it’s some scary admission, and it honestly is.
Your gaze softens, and he continues.
“You were right. I was insecure when I saw you talkin’ to Mr. Polo Shirt. Ain’t proud of it. Just…couldn’t stop thinkin’ about the key…” Joel glances over at his jeans on the floor, the key in the back pocket. “I wanna be worthy of that key,” he whispers, his free hand dropping from your hand and reaching up to gently caress your cheek.
You huff out a sigh and lean your head back, looking up at the ceiling fan spinning clockwise.
“Wouldn’t have given the key to you if I thought you were unworthy, in any way. I’m not an idiot,” you murmur, looking back down at him again. “I don’t wanna fuck the guy who wears polos; I wanna fuck the guy who wears too much plaid and never knows when to shut his fucking mouth. I want old and comfortable and familiar, not new and shiny and boring. So, if you can get over yourself, I’ll reward you by uncuffing your other hand.”
Joel mulls everything you’ve said over for a moment. It’s reassuring to hear that no one else trips your trigger the way he does. It makes him feel a sense of hope for himself that he hasn’t felt in a while.
“I can get over myself, but I don’t want a reward,” he says, his voice low and gravely.
You smirk and put his left hand on your breast. “Yeah? This enough for you?”
He shrugs and rolls your nipple between his fingers. “Absolutely not, but I ain’t ever been the one cuffed before… It’s interestin’.”
That makes you giggle and pull your bottom lip in between your teeth before finally resuming your bouncing on his cock.
“I think I’ll have fully forgiven you by the time I come,” you say, the tension in the air finally seeming to dissipate.
Joel chuckles softly and continues working on your nipple, pulling more and more breathy whines from your throat. “That right, darlin’?”
You nod and grind on him just a little bit harder. “Uh-huh!”
He smiles and leans forward to kiss you, and you bury both hands in his hair, gently tugging, earning appreciative groans from Joel.
Joel’s cock twitches inside of you, but he holds himself back, which results in some strained breathing on his part.
“You can come, baby,” you coo against his lips. “Been such a good boy since I put you in your place. Go ahead, honey.”
To your surprise, he whines against you and bucks his hips up into you. “Yeah, Daddy?”
That shocks you to your absolute core. While you do manage to keep rolling your hips into his, your mind goes blank. One thing is for sure, though: you liked it.
“Yeah, baby, you come for me,” you whisper.
And he does, and the noises and the feel of him and his fingernail brushing against your nipple all send you over the edge with him.
Once you get your breathing steady, you uncuff his right hand and kiss his wrist, then rub it to make sure the blood keeps flowing.
“You okay?” you whisper.
He nods and cradles your face in his hands.
“I’m sorry I was an insecure ass,” he mumbles before kissing you.
You shrug. “Didn’t mind reminding you of your situation.”
Joel smirks and leans back against the pillows, his hands rubbing up and down the tops of your thighs.
“Didn’t mind either, darlin’. Not one little bit,” he says, voice content and with a smirk on your face that tells you he won’t be feeling insecure for at least six months. “You forgive me?”
p.s. if you would like to be added to/removed from the taglist for this series (Pervy!Trailer Park!Joel) ((different than Pervy!Trailer Park!DILF!Joel)), just leave a comment asking. you can also ask to be added to the general Joel Miller taglist, or the general Pervy!Joel taglist, or even my all works taglist
end author's note: Joel calls reader "Daddy" and it's funny to me because (TMI ALERT) I told a guy I hooked up with that I felt like "big daddy" after I jerked him off and accidentally aimed his cum to land on his face and the wall. I was having a bad night, and that was a funny pick me up.
may i req zuko who has a son (a baby, really) who never wants to part with him so zuko brings him to council meetings where the baby also gives his smart inputs (just babbles) ?
a/n: this request was so sweet anon! i hope you enjoy the blurb i whipped up
summary: left alone with your baby, Zuko takes his son to his first council meeting
“Is my handsome prince ready for his first council meeting?” Zuko coos fondly as he lifts the child from his crib and into his arms.
“His robes are too big,” you note with a frown. The red and gold silk swallows his little body whole, but the child doesn’t seem to mind as he flashes a gummy smile when your lips meet his cheek for a kiss.
“He’ll grow into them,” your husband assures you with a careful smile. “Just as I did.”
“Are you sure you don’t need me to stay?” You fret, beginning to fuss over the robes once more in an attempt to free your baby’s limbs from the heavy fabric. “I can watch Ezi so your council meeting remains undisturbed.”
“You deserve to have a day off, too. Ezi and I will be fine while you’re in the village. Besides, who would object to having the Prince at a council meeting? It’s his duty. Isn’t that right, my little dragon?”
Ezi laughs as Zuko playfully pokes his stomach, and the sight is enough to ease your worries for you to leave the palace guilt free as you bid goodbye to your husband and son. The Fire Lord holds the child in one arm while the other grabs hold of the baby’s favorite turtle duck toy, and with everything in order the two are off to the meeting.
The councilmen are surprised to see the Fire Lord take his seat with the infant on his lap, but none dare try to argue against his decision. Zuko has created a reputation for himself as a doting father unwilling to part from Ezi unless absolutely necessary, and the last advisor to suggest otherwise had quickly been relieved of his duties. The baby happily babbles away as he’s given his turtle duck, and Zuko takes the distraction as his opportunity to begin the meeting.
“What is on the agenda today, chamberlain?”
“My Lord, there’s been an influx of new soldiers that our staff is inadequately prepared for. There’s more soldiers than there are commanders, and it will be impossible to train them all properly!”
Zuko offers a thoughtful nod, opening his mouth to respond only to falter at the feeling of Ezi’s fingers pulling at his hair. He looks upon his child with a smile and gently removes his hands as he asks, “Do you have an idea, son?”
The baby can only babble in response as he continues his attempts to grasp at Zuko’s hair. The Fire Lord chuckles before looking back to his dismayed chamberlain. “Ezi and I believe it would be in our best interest to train the soldiers in cohorts rather than all at once. Stagger the admission rates and allow no new applicants until everything is in order.”
“Then it shall be done,” his chamberlain relents. “However, if I may Fire Lord Zuko, perhaps it would be in your best interest to leave the duty of childcare to Fire Lady y/n. She is the Prince’s mother, after all.”
“And I am his father,” Zuko reiterates firmly, his eyes sharpening with his protective wrath. “Ezi will not be let out of my sight while my wife is away, and I will hear no more of this. Is that understood?”
“Yes, my Lord,” he quickly relents with a repentant bow of his head.
“Good,” he reaffirms with a single nod. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll have to end our meeting early today. It’s time for Ezi’s nap.”
Zuko doesn’t bother to stay despite his chamberlain’s protests, instead choosing to exit the throne room and make his way back to your bedroom. He enjoys the quiet moments when it’s just the two of them together roaming the palace halls, Ezi happily cooing as he holds him securely against his chest. He adores his father, and Zuko’s chest swells with pride every time he makes his child smile; his son will never look upon him with fear or shame, and he’ll never know what it feels like to be unloved.
You return from your venture just as Ezi finally falls asleep, and you join your husband beside the crib as you admire your sleeping child together.
“Did he have a good day?” Your hushed voice asks as Zuko pulls you into his side.
“He made excellent suggestions at today’s council meeting,” he replies with a faint chuckle. “Our son is going to be a fine leader one day.
“With you as his father? He’ll be more than perfect,” you sigh sweetly.
Ezi loves his father, and Zuko will do everything in his power to ensure his son is happy and content for the rest of his days.
pairing: harry castillo x fem!reader
content warning(s): fluff, pregnancy symptoms, mood swings, extremely emotional, (now) established relationship, harry's literally the SWEETEST man y'all, mentions of crocheting (i don't know much, but wanted to mention it in here - shoutout to @mayukicrystalqueen for the idea), no use of y/n.
word count: 1.9k
a/n: i know i'm behind on posting pt 29, so as an apology, wanted to write a brief drabble before we get to the last chapter before epilogue. hope y'all enjoy <3
song: one in a million by aaliyah (rip to one of the greats)
series masterlist.
36 weeks and you were ready to give birth already. You waddled everywhere you walked, your lower back in a constant state of achiness, and your pelvic pain—it felt like she was ready to come out too.
And as it got closer to your due date, you were also getting more irritable. The discomfort you felt shortened your temper and it didn’t help that you were having trouble sleeping as well.
“Baby,” Harry said, sitting at the edge of the coffee table in front of you. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m trying to crochet this for Frankie and I just—it’s not even remotely a blanket!” You said, frustrated.
You had begun crocheting with Stevie about a month ago and you were having trouble trying to understand what you needed to do in order to make a small baby blanket. Stevie, on the other hand, was actually a natural at it. Sure, she had a small and easy crochet kit to make a small plush toy for Frankie, but she was much more patient at it than you were.
“Okay, hey,” Harry said, gently taking the yarn and hooks away from your grasp to set it aside. “How about we take a break for a bit and come back to it later? It’s looking fine to me. Maybe you just need to come back to it later… when you’re not frustrated.”
You sighed. “It doesn’t look fine.”
“Baby, you’re almost finished,” Harry corrected.
“But I’m not yet,” you said quietly. “She’s coming soon and it’s not even finished.”
“It will be,” he said.
“And what if it isn’t?”
“Then, you can finish it after.”
“But I want it finished by the time she gets here,” you whispered.
Harry sighed and took your hands in his. He leaned down and pressed a light kiss on your knuckles. “Then, we get our little crochet pro to help you.”
“Stevie’s already doing her own—”
“Baby,” Harry interjected softly. “She’s been asking me if she should ask you if you need help. Trust me, she’d rather help you out than make another plush toy.”
“Fine,” you sighed.
“You’ve done a great job already,” Harry said, his lips curling upwards. “For your first time crocheting, you chose to make a blanket. That’s pretty difficult.”
You sighed again. The discomfort in your lower back now becoming an issue as you tried to adjust yourself on the sofa.
Harry noticed it immediately. “Come on, let’s take a nap.”
“I’m not tired.”
“Okay, you hungry?”
“No.”
Harry bit his lower lip. “Gotta help me out here, baby.”
You looked up at him and sighed. “I don’t know what I need. I know that I want to give birth already. My body hurts. I can’t sleep. I’m going to the bathroom like every hour and I’m waddling like I can’t even walk right. I don’t know how I did this before with Stevie and I just—” you looked away as you caught yourself, eyes gazing at the baby blanket you had been trying to crochet.
Harry’s eyes softened immediately. “Come on.” He stood up and gently leaned down to help you onto your feet too. Once you stood on your feet in front of him, Harry moved one hand to cup your cheek as he leaned down to peck your lips. “I’m gonna run you a bath.”
“Harry—”
“Not taking no for an answer. I can be stubborn too, you know.”
Then, he led you down the hallway and towards the bedroom. Harry watched you walk carefully, biting back a small smile at the sight of you waddling with your pregnant belly. He wouldn’t tell you right now how beautiful you looked, especially not after you had told him what was bothering you, but he truly couldn’t believe that this was his life.
Because you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, especially now.
With you carrying his child.
Once in the bathroom, Harry kissed your forehead before walking away to turn the water on in the bathtub. He tested the temperature of the water until it was warm enough for you to hopefully relax the tense muscles along your body.
You looked over at him and couldn’t help but smile to yourself. He was so focused on making sure that everything was just right—the small things he did to ensure that you were comfortable made you fall in love with him more.
By the time the water filled the tub, you had already removed your sweatpants and the shirt over your head. Even Harry was taken aback at the sudden quickness of you disrobing.
“What?” You asked.
Harry smiled and took your hand. “You’re just… beautiful,” he said softly, helping you into the tub carefully. “Water okay?”
You nodded, submerging your entire body into the warm water. You sighed contentedly, eyes falling shut as you rested your head against the back of the tub.
“Wish I could join you,” Harry whispered, eyes taking every inch of you.
You smiled. “If you join me, we both know what will happen.”
He sighed dramatically before he leaned down to lightly kiss the crown of your head. “Fine,” he said. “You gonna be okay?”
You nodded. “I’ll call out if I need anything.”
“Okay, baby, my parents should be back to drop Stevie of too,” he said, gently running a hand through your hair to push away from your face. Harry’s thumb then brushed along your cheek, his gaze catching the look of his ring on his finger.
“I love you,” you said, eyes falling shut as you lowered yourself until the water touched your chin.
Harry smiled. “Alright, I’ll leave you to relax.”
“Thank you,” you whispered. “You always know what I need.”
“I’d hope so. I’m your husband,” he chuckled. “The least I could do is know what my baby needs.”
Harry left the bathroom and shut the door halfway, grabbing his phone to send his parents a text. He knew it wasn’t much, but he hoped that it’d at least put a smile on your face.
After about an hour, you finally felt like it was time to get out of the bath. The water had gotten cold and you struggled just a bit to get up, so you called out for Harry.
It didn’t even take ten seconds before he was already stepping into the bathroom. “You okay?” He asked, gaze soft already.
“Yeah, just need help out of the bath,” you answered.
Harry nodded and grabbed a towel before he used his free hand to drain the water from the tub. He leaned over the tub and gently helped you up to stand, biting the inside of his cheek as his eyes lowered to your naked frame.
“Caught you looking,” you teased.
Harry smirked. “You know I always will,” he winked. Once you were standing, he wrapped the towel around your frame and leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Feel better?”
“Kind of.”
“Kind of?”
“Now I’m thinking about that blanket—”
Harry smiled. “Stevie’s actually working on it,” he said.
“What?”
“She saw it when she came home earlier,” Harry answered. “Said she wanted to help.”
You let a small smile line your lips and leaned on Harry as you stepped out of the tub, using the rest of the towel to dry your body. “I love her.”
He chuckled. “She even said that she’ll try and teach you.”
“She’s really the greatest, isn’t she?”
Harry wrapped his arms around you from behind as you walked towards the mirror. He let his hands rest on your belly as his lips pressed against your bare shoulder. “Takes after her mother,” he answered.
“And you,” you added.
Harry smiled, turning his head to press a kiss against the side of your neck. “I love you, baby. I’ll let you get dressed. Mom brought home some dinner for us.”
As he let go, you turned around and gently tugged on his hand. You pulled him slowly closer to you and leaned up to peck his lips. He smiled against your lips and moved a hand to your cheek.
“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna have to close this door and take you on this counter,” he whispered.
You giggled and pulled back enough to look up at him. “We can’t do that. Stevie’s home.”
“She can entertain herself for a bit,” he answered. “Can shut your mouth to keep you quiet too,” Harry teased. “I know how much you like that, baby.”
You rolled your eyes playfully and then pushed him away. “Just wanted to give you a kiss, that’s all,” you reasoned.
Harry smiled before pulling away from you once more. “Get dressed. You and Frankie need to eat.” He stepped out of the bathroom and left the room, making his way back into the living room where Stevie was focused on the baby blanket.
“Okay, Stevie, this song sound okay?” He played her a brief snippet on his phone.
Stevie looked up and nodded, a broad grin lining her lips. “Yes, daddy! That will make mama happy.”
Harry smiled and then connected his phone to the main speaker in the home. He knew it’d take you about ten minutes to get dressed, so he had a bit of time to get the flowers from the kitchen. He wasn’t sure if this was enough to make you feel better after earlier, but he figured he’d try.
“Stevie, baby,” you called out.
Harry’s brows shot upwards and he pressed play on the song, walking towards the living room with the flowers. Stevie looked over at Harry and giggled, setting the blanket and crochet hooks down to watch her parents with loving eyes.
You rounded the corner with a furrowed brow, the song filtering throughout the entire penthouse. As you turned to enter the living room, you saw Stevie sitting on her knees and looking over the back of the couch at you with a big smile.
Then, you turned your gaze to Harry who was holding a bouquet of flowers and food already on the coffee table. You smiled instantly, biting your lower lip as you waddled slowly over to him.
“What’s this?” You asked.
Harry shrugged a shoulder. “You weren’t feeling all that great earlier,” he answered. “And I just—I wanted to cheer you up.”
“Harry,” you whispered, lower lip quivering just slightly at the wave of emotions that suddenly hit you. “I thought the bath was more than enough.”
“Never enough,” he said. “I love you.”
You gently took the flowers from him and cupped his cheek, leaning up to peck his lips. “I love you.”
His arms snaked around you as he rested his forehead against yours, slowly swaying to the music while Stevie watched the both of you.
“You’re definitely getting some tonight,” you whispered just loud enough for him to hear.
“Oh, I’m counting on it,” he chuckled.
After dinner, Stevie was sitting on the couch with you next to her. She was talking about the blanket she was crocheting on your behalf. For a five-year-old, her dexterity was impressive and she was so focused on making sure she was doing it just right.
“See, mama,” Stevie said. “It’s all about not giving up.”
You smiled over at her, wrapping your arms around her gently. “You’re so smart, baby.”
“I know it can be hard,” she continued, looking up at you. “But Frankie will love it even if it isn’t finished.”
“And how do you know, hm?”
“Because,” Stevie said. “It came from you.”
You smiled.
Tears stung your eyes as you leaned down to kiss her cheek. “You’re the sweetest, baby.”
warnings: feelings of grief, comfort, tons of fluff
notes: we’ve finally made it to the wedding! this has been a long time coming and i’m so excited to finally tell this part of the story. i couldn’t find much information regarding water tribe wedding customs so i took the liberty of making up my own
summary: surrounded by your closest friends and family, you and Zuko officially become husband and wife
~part of the fire lilies series~
“This is nice. Weird… but nice.”
Your hand hovers over your mouth to stifle your giggle at Sokka’s remark as you stand together at the docks and welcome the Fire Nation citizens that pour out of the ships. As Zuko promised, your wedding is being held in the Southern Water Tribe, and you’ve graciously offered to host his people so they may partake in the celebration and see firsthand what the South has to offer. Though his advisors had been less than pleased with his decision, many of his citizens rejoiced when your engagement was officially announced.
You’re filled with pride to see the admiration and awe your visitors convey for your home as they explore the local markets, tour the museum, and engage in pleasantries with the locals. Years ago the arrival of Fire Nation ships would have signaled terror and destruction for your tribe, but the air seemed to be buzzing with excitement in anticipation for your betrothal to the Fire Lord and the festivities to follow. Tomorrow you’ll finally marry Zuko, and your nations will enter a new era of unity never seen before as a once forbidden love comes to fruition in the form of matrimony.
“I used to sit on these very docks and watch for the Fire Lord’s ship knowing his arrival meant Zuko’s as well,” you recount wistfully to your advisor. “Tensions were high and our people were on the brink of war— none of this would have been possible then. But now? Lifelong bonds can be made, hope can replace fear, and everyone will be stronger because of it. I just wish my father could see how far we’ve come since his time as Chief.”
“I know he’d be really proud of you,” Sokka comments as he gives a reassuring squeeze to your shoulder, verbalizing the answer to the question you can’t bring yourself to ask aloud. “Chief Tukon was a brave warrior and leader, and he’d be happy to see the South was left in good hands.”
“Thank you, Sokka,” you reply pensively, casting your melancholic stare towards the sea. Your eyes shine with tears, but you manage to keep them from falling as you faintly recall, “Before he died he wrote me a letter apologizing for his inability to understand my love for Zuko; he told me he knew then that my destiny had always been to leave the South, and he was sorry he hadn’t realized that sooner. I’d like to think if he hadn’t passed he would have come to approve of Zuko, and he’d be so happy to walk me down the aisle tomorrow.”
“He’ll be there in spirit,” he commiserates while pulling you into his side for an embrace. You lean into his comforting touch and let out a long sigh, allowing your grief to flow through you for just a moment as you come to terms with the absence of your father in the wake of the most important day of your life.
“Why don’t I take over here so you can get back to the palace and make sure everything’s ready for tomorrow?” He suggests after releasing you from his hold.
“Are you sure? I’d hate to leave you on your own.”
“Hey, I’m Chieftain now! I gotta learn how to handle things on my own. You just focus on getting married.”
“I knew I made the right choice picking you,” you jest with a playful smile as you bid him goodbye and make your way back towards the palace.
You find Katara and Toph in the courtyard when you finally reach your destination. The royal grounds are bustling with activity as the benders and palace staff rush to finish the preparations for tomorrow’s events. While the ceremony will take place inside the palace with only close friends and family present, the reception festivities will be held in the courtyard for all Water Tribe and Fire Nation citizens to attend. Katara was adamant you refrain from lifting a single finger, so you entrusted her and the rest of the team with the decorations and coordination of the wedding.
“Hmm, a little more to the left,” Katara instructs with a contemplative tilt of her head. You watch as Toph lifts the heavy ice sculpture in front her with an exasperated groan and follows the water bender’s command.
“It better be good, sugar queen, because I’m not moving another ice sculpture after this,” the younger girl scowls with obvious annoyance. “I can hardly feel my fingers!”
“It’s perfect!” She gratifies with an excited clasp of her hands as she steps back to admire her creation. With her bending she had managed to expertly craft a sculpture resembling the carving on your betrothal necklace, symbolizing the merging of two opposite halves into one whole for all to see.
The courtyard is beautifully decorated with strings of light that hang from above and lanterns surrounding the permitter. Fire lilies encased in spheres of ice rest upon the guest tables, and fresh flowers line the archway above your own table. One side of the courtyard has its wall adorned with Fire Nation banners while the other proudly displays Southern Water Tribe regalia. Both cultures are equally represented in every aspect of decoration, and you look upon the decor with great fondness.
“You’ve really outdone yourselves,” you comment from behind her, your sudden presence startling Katara as she whips around to face you. Having already sensed your arrival, Toph remains unfazed. “Anything I can do to help?”
“Of course not!” Katara rebuffs, already beginning to guide you towards the front doors of the palace as she rests her hands on your shoulders and pushes you forward. “We’ve got this, you just focus on getting as much rest as possible before the wedding.”
“Katara, I’m getting married, not going into battle,” you remind her playfully though not resisting her attempts to get you inside.
“Same thing,” Toph shrugs much to Katara’s annoyance.
“You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow, so there’s nothing wrong with taking it easy for the rest of the evening. Have some tea, meditate— whatever you need to feel your best for the wedding.”
“If you insist,” you resign with a sigh, admitting defeat as you allow them to continue their work in your absence while you make your way into the palace.
The commotion continues within the grand halls as preparations are made for the ceremony, but you pay it no mind as you begin to search for company. Zuko and Suki are off in the plaza ensuring the smooth acclimation of the Fire Nation people into Southern life and lowering any possible tensions that may present themselves. Though your people have come to love Zuko, you know some still feel weary about the presence of his citizens.
With your best friend and husband occupied, you find yourself roaming the palace on your own as you take in the sight of your home. Soon the Fire Nation will become your permanent residence, and you’ll no longer be able to walk these hallways as you please. You’ve longed to marry Zuko since you were children, but you can’t deny the sadness that follows the thought of leaving the South behind. It had been so easy to leave at thirteen when you were young and naive about the world, longing for freedom and adventure beyond the southern seas. Now older and much wiser in comparison, the anticipated goodbye to your home weighs heavily upon your heart.
“You’re not having second thoughts, are you?” Zuko teases with a wry smile when he finds you ruminating along the balcony of your bedroom. You’d chosen to retire early for the evening to soak in your final night in the palace, and though his words are meant to be lighthearted you take notice of the subtle panic on his features.
“No, of course not,” you assure him with a gentle laugh, smiling faintly when he comes to join you on the balcony. You feel the heat that radiates off of his body immediately, and the warmth lulls you into a sense of solace after a day filled with grief. “It’s just hard having to say goodbye. I know I’ll be back and I can visit as much as I want, but nothing will be the same once we’re married.”
“Change is scary,” he acknowledges with a comforting hand upon your back, “but you’re the bravest person I know. The Southern Water Tribe will always be your home, and I’ll do everything I can to ease your homesickness while you’re away.”
You offer a quiet hum in acknowledgment of his words, allowing your head to fall against his chest as you stare out at the sea. The moon begins to replace the sun in the sky, her light twinkling brilliantly across the waves and shining back onto the shore. No matter where you go the moon will follow, and the thought brings a sense of peace to your troubled mind.
“I can’t wait to marry you,” you sigh dreamily, prompting Zuko to hold you tighter against him.
“Neither can I.”
~~~
“You look beautiful,” your mother gushes as Ursa secures the hairpin in place for the finishing touch of your bridal look.
Zuko’s mother had styled your hair in a fashion typical for Fire Nation brides to go with your pin, but you’d chosen to wear a dress more traditional to the Southern Water Tribe. Your gown is a pale blue with elegant bell sleeves and a train that flows behind you; the fabric rests slightly off your shoulders to leave your betrothal necklace on full display, and at your waist rests a white sash embroidered with gold embellishments. Your look encapsulates elements of both Fire Nation and Water Tribe fashion, allowing you to proudly display your own culture while embracing Zuko’s all at once.
“You make such an elegant bride,” Ursa coos with a smile as both women admire their finished work. You wouldn’t have been able to get ready without them, and you’re glad to see they both get along so well.
“Your father would be so proud of you, Princess,” your mother says, her words making your blood run cold as you look upon yourself in the mirror. The reminder of his absence leaves your stomach churning in discontent, and you fight desperately to keep any tears from forming so as to not ruin your makeup.
You don’t want to walk down the aisle alone, but as Ursa and your mother make their departure from the room you find yourself frozen in place. Your entire body is rigid with suffocating tension, and suddenly the thought of walking towards your future without anyone by your side has you terrified.
Downstairs Zuko paces anxiously as he and your friends await your arrival to the altar. He thought you would have appeared alongside your mothers, but the women had shown up without you beside them. His mind is quick to spiral, and if not for Aang and Sokka he probably would have already marched right upstairs to find you.
“Don’t worry buddy, I’m sure she’ll be here any minute,” Aang consoles in attempt to quell the Fire Lord’s panic.
“She should have been here by now,” Zuko argues with a disgruntled groan, “what if something happened?”
“Toph, Suki, and I did three perimeter checks already to ensure the palace is secure,” Sokka reiterates in support of Aang’s statement, “No one’s getting in or out, and we haven’t found any credible threats against either of you to raise any alarm. She’s probably just fixing her hair or something.”
“I don’t know… I’d still like someone to check on her in my place.”
“Whatever you need,” the Avatar swears with a firm hand resting upon Zuko’s shoulder. “As your best man it’s my job to make sure today goes as smoothly as possible, and I think I know just the person for the job.”
Your hands tremble as you open your bedroom door, but you visibly relax at the sight of Iroh on the other side. The knocks against the wood had startled you out of your depressive trance, and you feared it to be one of your guards ready to urge you down the stairs and towards the ceremony. Instead, your Uncle stands with an understanding smile and a tray of tea in his hands.
“The best cure to cold feet is a steaming cup of jasmine tea,” he quotes wisely, prompting the smallest of smiles to play across your lips as you allow him to enter.
“I don’t know if I can go out there, Uncle,” you confess shamefully, taking the cup of tea he offers you with complete gratitude. The warmth of the porcelain soothes the chill of your fingertips from the absence of gloves, their exclusion allowing your scars to be on full display— an intentional choice by you.
“Are you still distressed about becoming Fire Lady?” He asks only for you to shake your head in response. “What is it that troubles you, y/n? Perhaps I could be of some assistance.”
You sigh, pensively taking a sip of your tea before you will yourself to meet his gaze. Your eyes are glossy with tears, and the sight immediately tugs at his heartstrings the way it always had when you were young and under his watch on his nephew’s ship. Iroh had raised you as his own just as he had Zuko, helping you to master your skills as a water bender while simultaneously helping you navigate the challenges of dating the banished Prince. You were family to him, with or without the title of Fire Lady.
“I miss my father,” you admit like a sullen child. “We weren’t on speaking terms when I ran away from home, and I’ll regret not saying goodbye to him for the rest of my life. I live every day with the hopes of honoring his memory as Chief, but there’s nothing I can do to fill the void his absence leaves today. My father will never get to see me betrothed, and I don’t think I can bear to walk down the aisle alone.”
A pensive silence fills the air as you sit with the weight of your confession, finishing the last of your tea in hopes of calming your nerves. Iroh says nothing at first, merely digesting your words and allowing you the space to process your grief without his input. Finally, a melancholic smile graces his features as he carefully sets his cup down on the tray and turns to meet your gaze.
“I lost my dear son in the war just as you lost your father, and I know the way grief can sneak up on you in even the happiest of moments,” he notes wisely while rising from his seat, and you don’t protest when he takes your hands in his own to help you onto your feet. “I cannot replace your father, but I hope you know that in the years I’ve spent with you I have to come to look upon you as the daughter I never had, and I will always be here to provide you with the guidance and support you seek.”
An inaudible gasp prompts your lips to part in surprise at his confession, and you feel your eyes beginning to well with tears once more as you process his words. You love Iroh dearly; his kindness kept you sane during your time as a fugitive with Zuko, and his wisdom was what allowed you to become the skilled master you are today. He took you under his wing without judgement or hesitation and believed in you in a way no one ever had before. Though you may not have your father anymore, you realize now that you aren’t truly alone.
“Uncle,” you manage to get out despite the lump in your throat. A watery smile forms on your trembling lips as you humbly ask, “Will you walk me down the aisle?”
“It would be my privilege.”
Arm in arm with Iroh, you make your way down the stairs and towards the grand hall where your family and friends sit waiting for your arrival. Every guest in attendance immediately rises from their seat as you make your entrance, but everything around you only seems to fade as your eyes meet Zuko’s from across the room. He looks impossibly handsome in his ceremonial robes, his hair tied back into a perfect top knot held together by his crown, and you can’t contain the smile that forms upon your lips at the mere sight of him.
His features convey his sense of awe as he drinks in the sight of you in your gown. Your beauty is radiant and leaves him breathless, and his heart starts to race in his chest as you begin to make your way towards him with Iroh at your side. He couldn’t imagine anything more special than to see you escorted by his Uncle, the man who had looked after you both during his banishment and supported your forbidden love from the very beginning.
Everything feels complete as you finally reach the altar, allowing Zuko to take your hand in his own as he helps you up the steps. At your side stand Suki and Katara with Aang and Toph accompanying Zuko as Sokka takes his place in the center. As advisor and Chieftan he holds the authority to officiate your ceremony, allowing you to be surrounded by your closest friends as you begin your new journey together.
“Just as the ocean needs the moon, every spirit needs its other half in order to achieve harmony and peace,” Sokka recites thoughtfully, prompting you and Zuko to exchange giddy smiles. “We are here today to witness the combining of two souls into one, and I think it’s safe to say that this day has been a long time coming.”
“The couple before me has experienced many challenges throughout their time together, but each obstacle has only proven to make them stronger. When I first met Zuko I couldn’t understand how a girl like y/n could ever love someone so terrible,” he confesses only to receive a grimace from the Fire Lord in response.
“Sokka,” Katara groans only for him to interject with a defensive raise of his hands.
“I’m not finished!” He insists before clearing his throat and continuing. “However, as I came to know them both separately and as a couple, I realized there was no better match out there for them than each other. Their differences only make them stronger, and though it was once thought impossible for a water bender and fire bender to live in harmony, Zuko and y/n have only proven just how powerful two opposing elements can be when they come together as one.”
You feel Zuko give your hands a careful squeeze at Sokka’s words, his eyes shining with utter adoration for you as he reminisces on the past. Not so long ago you had been two naive children in love during a time of war, and now you were moments away from becoming husband and wife. He’s grateful his younger self had never gotten the chance to propose, otherwise you wouldn’t be here now surrounded by your closest loved ones.
“As is water tribe tradition, each couple is granted a special mark to symbolize their duties to one another,” Sokka proclaims as he takes the bowl of face paint from Aang.
“Are you sure you want him to do this part?” Toph mutters under her breath much to his annoyance.
“For y/n, the moon,” he explains while marking a crescent shape upon your forehead. “You will bring light into the dark of Zuko’s life. Your gentle nature will allow him to remain patient and flexible, your strength will give him courage, and your radiance will become a beacon of hope and transformation.”
He then turns to your counterpart, marking his forehead as he continues, “For Zuko, the sun. You’ll bring warmth to even the coldest of times in y/n’s life. Your light will allow her to blossom in times of uncertainty, your flame will guide her towards prosperity, and your spark will light the fire of determination in her heart as a leader. Together, you will prosper as one.”
You both bow your heads in gratitude before turning to your guests so that all may see the marks bestowed upon you. Sokka enthusiastically throws his arms around you both and brings you in closer, and though a laugh manages to escape you Zuko seems less than pleased from the sudden intrusion; however, the smile on your face is enough to easily melt the scowl off his face.
“As Chieftan, it is my honor to present to you the newly betrothed Fire Lord Zuko and Chief y/n!”
The entire room erupts in joyous cheers, and Sokka steps away to allow you both the space needed to enjoy the moment. Finally free of his hold, Zuko takes the opportunity to pull you into his arms so he may swoop down and steal a kiss from his beloved wife. You melt into him immediately, your hands finding purchase against his chest as you savor the feeling of his lips against your own. After years of adventure and heartache, you’re finally united as one in matrimony. You once thought such a day would never come to fruition, and now you stand here in the embrace of your husband for all to witness.
The rest of the day feels like a blur. You spend your reception celebrating your marriage with your shared citizens, enjoying your respective cultural dishes alongside new creations at the behest of Sokka to showcase your unity. You were a big fan of the fire seaweed flakes, and Zuko was surprised to find he enjoyed the chef’s rendition of spicy sea prune stew. Everyone seemed to be getting along, and you couldn’t be more elated to witness the pleasant social exchanges between the fire people and water tribe natives.
The festivities commence with music provided by Southern musicians, allowing your guests to mingle as they showcase their different styles of dance with one another. Aang and Katara especially seem to be enjoying themselves, and their captivating performance keeps the crowd distracted long enough for you and Zuko to slip away for a moment of privacy.
“Was today everything you hoped for?” He asks you as you sit upon the very dock where you’d first been introduced as children. You watch the ocean lap at the wooden beams of the structure, the sound lulling you into a sense of calm as you allow your head to fall against his shoulder.
You faintly recall your first day together in the South; Azula had rejected the idea of becoming your friend, but Zuko held no qualms about joining you in penguin sledding and spending his day with the South’s Princess. You were too young to know what it felt like to be in love then, but you understood that a special bond had been made that day, and Zuko would be yours forever.
“You’ll come back, won’t you?” Your hopeful voice had asked as you bid him goodbye.
“Of course, I will,” Zuko had smiled. “We’re friends now.”
And he had come back. Zuko had always managed to find his way back to you. Even when he had strayed towards the wrong path he’d managed to return and found a way to win your heart all over again, and it was because of his efforts you sat here now not only as friends but as husband and wife.
“It was everything and more,” you profess with a dreamy sigh. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of his lips bestowing a kiss to the crown of your head, and you know you’ve never felt a sense of peace like this before.
You sit beneath the moonlight with Zuko by your side and enjoy the beginning of your forever with your beloved husband.
notes: needed to do some lore building first before getting to the wedding but we’re almost there! this was also a requested piece so i hope you enjoy!
summary: a talk with Ursa leaves you anxious about your future as Chief, but Zuko knows just what to say to ease your worries
*part of the fire lilies series
You’ve just put the finishing touches on your makeup when a knock sounds at your door. You know you’re running behind schedule, and you expect it must be Katara or Suki coming to fetch you for the party.
While you’ve yet to make an official announcement of your engagement to your nations, you’d immediately shared the news with your closest friends and family. Though they knew of Zuko’s intentions to propose, they were beyond thrilled to learn you’d accepted and would soon become husband and wife. To celebrate your impending matrimony, Iroh had insisted on throwing you an engagement party at the Jasmine Dragon where all could come together to share the joy of your newest relationship milestone.
You’ve managed to keep the news under wraps for the past few months, keeping your necklace hidden under your clothes and swearing your palace staff to secrecy, but you know people are beginning to speculate. It will only be a matter of time until you’re forced to come clean, but you don’t want to make an official announcement until you establish a plan on how to maintain your position as Chief while taking on the title of Fire Lady. Unfortunately for you, you’ve yet to find the answer to your predicament, and the stress has put a damper on what is meant to be a joyous occasion.
“Come in,” you call to your visitor, adjusting your betrothal necklace so that it rests perfectly centered on your neck. To your surprise, it is Ursa who peeks her head through the door with an apologetic smile in place of Katara and Suki.
“Do you have a moment?” She asks warmly. “The party is just about to start but I wanted to speak to you about something first.”
“Of course, Ursa,” you reply immediately, giving her your full attention as she seats herself beside you.
In her hands rests a velvet red box, and you watch with piqued interest as she carefully pries the lid open to reveal the contents inside. A golden pin sits against the plush lining accompanied by a red tassel end and two jeweled brooches. The hair pin is beautiful, and your mouth falls open with quiet shock as you admire the accessory.
“I’m unsure what the customary attire is for a water tribe bride, but I wanted to give you this traditional hair pin worn by women in the Fire Nation on their wedding day.”
“Ursa, it’s beautiful!” You gasp in complete awe, carefully taking the box from her grasp so you may admire the gift closer. “I’d be honored to wear it.”
She smiles faintly, but it doesn’t reach her eyes as she looks upon the pin in solemn reminiscence. “It was the pin I wore on my own wedding day to Zuko’s father.”
You look to her with wide eyes, clearly taken aback by her admission. You’re surprised she’d preserve a keepsake that held such weight; it was an emotional reminder of her marriage to a cruel man and a dark period of her life when she’d been kept in a gilded cage. You would think she’d want to severe all ties to Ozai, and yet her royal wedding pin now sits in your lap.
“It was an unhappy day,” she laments somberly. “I was terrified of what the future held for me once Ozai told me as Fire Lady I’d be forced to sever all ties to my past. I’d never be able to see my family or friends again, and my sole purpose would be to complete my duties to my nation and my husband.”
“You mean, you never even saw your parents again?” You manage to ask despite the lump in your throat.
“It is expected of every Fire Lady to rid herself of her old identity and adapt to her new one as a royal.”
You swallow softly, suddenly feeling nauseous as your gaze focuses on the pin. You know Ursa means well by granting you such a personal gift, but you can’t ignore the immense weight it carries. You are to be the new Fire Lady, but you had no idea just how much sacrifice came with the title. You know in your heart Zuko would never force you into a submissive role in which you’re expected to leave the South behind, but could the same be said of his advisors? What if it isn’t up to him?
“My marriage may not have been happy, but it gave me two beautiful children,” she says fondly, carefully brushing the hair from your face in a comforting manner. “And when you wear this pin, it will be on a day full of joy and genuine love. Your marriage will be a happy one, and I am grateful my son has you.”
“Thank you, Ursa,” you offer with a trembling smile, allowing her to pull you into her embrace. You’re grateful she can’t see the clear terror on your face at the thought of becoming Fire Lady.
You manage to compose yourself enough to attend your engagement party without drawing attention to your unease. The whole group is there along with your families, and everything is perfect. Iroh has closed the tea shop for the day in order to keep your event private, so you have the entire Jasmine Dragon to yourselves.
“I made a special batch of tapioca pearls just for you, y/n!” Iroh exclaims gleefully as he makes your favorite drink. “While my nephew may not have seen the vision, your enjoyment of my creation was enough for me to put it on the menu, and now the Princess’s Pearl is the most popular drink at the Jasmine Dragon!”
“I’ve missed you, Uncle,” you tell him fondly, eagerly reaching for your milk tea once he’s finished. “You not only have the best wisdom but also the best tea.”
“I consider it a gift,” he says with a humble laugh. You smile, pensively stirring your drink with your straw as your mind starts to drift back to your conversation with Ursa. Noticing the change in your demeanor, Iroh prompts, “Is something troubling you?”
You turn away guiltily and catch sight of Zuko from across the room. His features are relaxed and his body language airy as he engages in conversation with Sokka and Aang. You adore your soon to be husband, but you’re not sure you can give up the water tribe for him, and this is a thought you voice to Iroh.
“I know Zuko isn’t Ozai,” you reaffirm to the older man, “and he would never make me choose between him or the South, but I agreed to marry him knowing nothing of the responsibilities a Fire Lady holds. I fear I won’t be able to handle serving my people as Chief and the people of the Fire Nation all at once, and it will come to the point where I’ll have to choose one over the other.”
“You are faced with quite a challenge, indeed,” Iroh agrees, pensively grasping his chin as he contemplates a solution. “This is a first in Fire Nation history— no Fire Lord has ever married a woman of the water tribe much less a Chief! Zuko may not expect you to give up your throne, but his advisors will.”
Your stomach sinks at his admission that only seems to confirm your fears, and you’re desperate for guidance on how to remedy the situation without having to give up all that you love.
“What can I do, Uncle?”
“I believe you have the strength and wisdom to be a great leader for both nations,” he says with an encouraging smile, “but if you feel you still have more to learn about the Fire Nation I would be happy to give you my scrolls so you may get a better understanding of our culture.”
“That would be wonderful,” you sigh with relief, “thank you, Iroh.”
“After all you’ve done for my nephew it is the least I can do,” he assures you with a compassionate hug. “Your union will be a story for the ages, and it is a privilege to be a part of it.”
You’re quick return his embrace, already feeling a little lighter than you did when you first arrived to the party. With Iroh’s scrolls you hope to immerse yourself in your impending role as Fire Lady, and in turn you hope to prove your competency in leading both nations to Zuko’s advisors.
After your talk with Iroh you find yourself seated at a table with Suki and Katara who are eager to hear all about your wedding plans.
“So tell me, where are you guys getting married?” Suki asks excitedly. You frown, your brows furrowing in thought as you realize you haven’t exactly had the chance to discuss this with Zuko yet. The rest of your stay in the Fire Nation after the proposal had been filled with work surrounding the embassy, and upon your return home there hadn’t been much time to discuss the details of your upcoming matrimony.
“Umm, I’m actually not sure…”
“Obviously it’s going to be in the South, right?” Katara interjects exuberantly. “You could have it in the courtyard in front of the palace!”
“Well-”
“Yeah, but if you have your wedding in the Fire Nation you could hold your ceremony in the palace gardens where Zuko proposed and have your honeymoon on Ember Island,” the Kyoshi warrior kindly suggests. “It would be romantic!”
“Not as romantic as holding it in the water tribe where they first met.”
You start to feel overwhelmed from the onslaught of suggestions being thrown your way as the two continue to bounce ideas off of one another. You know they mean well and are simply just excited to see their childhood friends finally marry, but their questions only serve to expose your lack of answers for such an important day. You’re starting to feel like you’re way in over your head, suffocated by the pressure of balancing your position as Chief while preparing for your new role as the Fire Lord’s wife. Suki and Katara remain engrossed in their self appointed wedding planning, and you take this as your chance to venture outside for some fresh air.
You sit on the front steps of the Jasmine Dragon with a sigh, enjoying the cool breeze against your warm face as you allow yourself to catch your breath. Momo appears beside you then, and you watch with a faint smile as he tilts his head curiously at you as if questioning your change in demeanor.
“What do you think I should do, Momo?” You ponder aloud with a dejected sigh, bringing your knees closer to your chest so that you may rest your chin upon them. The lemur can only chitter in response before climbing up your arm to sit on your shoulders and play with the beads in your hair, prompting a small smile to curl upon your lips. “Yeah, I don’t know either.”
“There you are,” a voice sounds, and you glance behind you to see Zuko towering over your seated form with a worried look on his face. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, it’s time for the toast.”
“Sorry, I just needed a minute to myself,” you admit penitently. His brows raise with concern, and he promptly joins you on the steps of the tea shop as he decides the toast can wait.
“What’s wrong?” He asks while placing a comforting hand on the small of your back. The warmth his palm emits brings you immediate comfort, and it makes voicing your fears less daunting.
“I didn’t realize becoming the Fire Lady came with so many expectations,” you lament quietly, casting your gaze to the floor in shame. “I know you’d never make me give up my life in the South or my duties as Chief, but what if I can’t do both? Maybe there’s a reason the Fire Lady is expected to sever all ties to her past… Maybe my identity isn’t a strength but a hinderance to my obligations as your wife.”
Zuko is stunned by your admission, the shock evident on his face as he allows himself a moment to process your words. Your normally confident demeanor and passionate fire is gone, and he hates to see you so discouraged after all you’ve accomplished. How could someone as brave and spirited as you ever doubt their capabilities? He hates you’ve come to feel this way, and he can’t help but feel partially responsible as he hadn’t made the effort to discuss this with you beforehand.
“Y/n, I never want you to feel like your sole responsibility is to be my wife because you are so much more than that,” he says with the upmost sincerity, the emotion in his voice taking you by surprise as he tenderly rests a hand upon your cheek. You melt into his touch immediately, already feeling your eyes start to well with tears from the overwhelming stress you’ve been dealing with.
“You’re a fighter, a leader, a friend— I have no doubt in my mind you’ll be the perfect Fire Lady, and you don’t have to give up being Chief to do so. I don’t want you to think you have to relinquish a part of yourself just to be with me. We’re going to make this work.”
“How?” You question desperately, uncertainty still swimming in your eyes. “Ursa said it’s expected of every Fire Lady to sever all ties to her past, and even your Uncle agreed your advisors will demand the same.”
“I know, and I’ve already set forth a motion to abolish that rule from the palace,” he assures you with a careful smile. “I’ve also spoken to my advisors and made it clear you are not to give up your position as Chief nor will you have to abandon any part of your heritage. Our marriage is meant to be a coming together of two peoples, a celebration of unity after all the pain the Fire Nation has caused— especially to the South— and that’s why I’ve arranged for our wedding to be held in the Southern Water Tribe.”
“What?” You gape in disbelief, your eyes sparkling with adoration for your fiancé. “You want to get married in the South?”
“I know how much you love your home and your people, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re losing your water tribe identity by marrying me. I want you to feel confident in the fact that no matter where you are or what you do you’ll always be the Southern Chief, and what better way to show that than to have our wedding in the South.”
Your lips tremble in time with the watery smile that appears on your face, and you tightly grasp onto Zuko’s wrist as you let out a tearful laugh. Your heart feels like it might burst from the immense joy and adoration his words bring you, and you silently thank the spirits for gifting you with such a wonderful man as your partner. He’d abolished a long standing tradition and gone against his advisors just for you, proving he was fiercely committed to not only your happiness but to the South’s as well.
“Whatever you want to do, however you see fit to lead, I’ll follow,” Zuko professes zealously while leaning forward to gift you an affectionate kunik. “I know you’re going to be a perfect Fire Lady, just as you are a perfect Chief.”
“I love you,” you say sweetly, allowing your forehead to rest against his own as you admire his golden irises. “And I think I have an idea on how I can continue to carry out my duties as Chief while still being Fire Lady.”
“Just say the word and it’s done,” he affirms with a fond smile.
“Wait, sorry, you want me to what?”
You’re back inside the Jasmine Dragon seated in a secluded corner with Sokka and Zuko as you fill him in on the details of your plan. You’d managed to pull him away from the dessert table in spite of his protests as you insisted upon the urgency of the conversation, promising it would be worthwhile.
“I don’t want to give up my position as Chief of the Southern Water Tribe, but someone’s going to have to watch over everything in my place while I’m away,” you explain. “I won’t be able to resolve problems that require immediate attention or intervene in the more personal affairs of our people, so I want you to act as my Chieftain.”
“Chieftain?” Sokka retorts with perplexity, receiving a nod of affirmation from you in return.
“I’ll be able to look after things at the embassy in the Fire Nation and handle the executive affairs— implementing or removing laws, approving new infrastructure, planning and coordination, diplomatic affairs. I’ll keep the tribe running smoothly while ensuring our growth, and you’ll be tasked with the more hands on work that comes with helping our people.”
“You mean stuff like training warriors, handling local commerce, and ensuring the laws you implement are being upheld?”
“Exactly! You’ll just be making sure things are running smoothly in my place and notifying me of any conflicts that arise,” you reaffirm with a pleased smile. “I’ll make frequent visits to the South to stay up to date on our progress and assist you with whatever you need, but I have complete faith in your ability to look after the tribe while I’m in the Fire Nation. The position is yours if you want it, but if you’re not comfortable—“
“Are you kidding?!” Sokka exclaims with elation, immediately pulling you into a bone crushing hug that nearly knocks the wind out of you. “You won’t regret this, y/n. I’m the perfect man for the job!”
Zuko is less than pleased to see you fighting to catch your breath from the strength of the embrace, but he knows better than to disrupt your moment with your dear friend. You flash the Fire Lord a lopsided grin as you manage to free your arms in order to return Sokka’s hug in a display of gratitude for his acceptance.
“I knew I could count on you, Sokka.”
In spite of his tight hold, you feel like you can finally breathe knowing the greatest hurdle towards your marriage has finally been crossed. You have a plan to ensure you can maintain your position as Chief of the Southern Water Tribe while also taking on the title of Fire Lady. You’ll read Iroh’s scrolls to better understand your duties, and with Zuko’s guidance you know you can help lead the two nations into a new era of unity and prosperity never seen before. It may be a difficult transition, and you know you may not receive total support from both sides, but you trust you’ll be able to overcame any obstacle so long as you have your friends by your side.
The evening is beginning to come to a close, and before your party reaches its end Zuko takes it upon himself to give the toast. He keeps you close with an arm wrapped securely around your waist, tucking you into his side with one hand while the other holds his glass. All eyes are on the two of you, and yet in a room full of people you can only find yourself staring up at your fiancé with a look of unwavering devotion as he begins to thank your guests for joining in on the celebration.
“Years ago I fell in love with a Princess who changed the way I saw the world. Her kind and loving nature never faltered, even when I always seemed to be testing the limits of her benevolence, and she stood by me during a time of great turmoil in my life,” he recounts with a sheepish smile. His features become somber as he starts to reminisce on your shared history. “I made many mistakes, did things I wish I could take back, but she forgave me even when I’d done the unforgivable. Her love saved me in more ways than one, and I wouldn’t be the man or Fire Lord I am now without her.”
“I am beyond grateful to have a woman like y/n by my side, and I look forward to what the future holds for us as husband and wife,” he finishes while raising his glass. “To the Princess.”
The room erupts in cheers as Zuko pulls you in for a loving kiss. A single tear slides down your face, but it’s a product overwhelming happiness. You’ve come so far on your journey together; the girl you once were who had run away from home with the Fire Prince would have never dreamed a day like this would come, and yet here you are crowded together in a room with your closest friends and families as you celebrate your upcoming marriage.
All that’s left now is to walk down the aisle towards your future.
