◈°(Aunt) Azalea°◈

The close relationships you had built with each of them mattered too much. You couldn’t throw everything away.

“We didn’t want you to feel weirded out, you know?” Katara finally broke the silence as she scooted closer, until her chest pressed against your arm.

“Oh, no, I would never—”

Your breath caught in your throat the moment her hand landed on your thigh.

“Is that okay?” Katara asked softly, fingers resting there carefully.

You could barely answer her.

You nodded quietly instead.

“I want to hear you talk,” she pushed gently, her hand slowly sliding higher up your thigh.

“It’s okay,” you breathed out shakily.

“You’re blushing like crazy,” Sokka snickered as he leaned back on his palms, eyes never leaving your form.

You threw him a glare, but the second your eyes locked with his, you couldn’t hold it for long.

Yeah.

For the first time, you actually felt intimidated by Sokka.

“Are you too hot right now?” Katara spoke again, making you look back at her. “You’re burning up,” she continued while your breathing turned more uneven with every second. “Should I help you?”

She offered it so casually, like she wasn’t making your entire body heat up with just a few touches.

You would’ve liked not to answer so fast. But you did.

She barely even managed to finish speaking before a nervous “yes” left your lips.

Toph and Sokka immediately giggled while Zuko and Aang sent you sympathetic looks, though neither of them looked much calmer themselves.

“Come here, then. Lay your back against my chest,” Katara instructed gently, though there was still firmness hidden beneath her soft tone.

You nodded quickly and shifted towards her, settling between her legs until your back rested against her chest comfortably.

“Tell me if it’s too much, alright?” she whispered near your ear.

Then you felt her hands slide downwards until they rested over your breasts beneath the dark green robe you were wearing.

Your breath hitched.

Katara hooked her fingers into the fabric and slowly dragged the material aside, exposing your bare breasts to the entire room. Cool air brushed against your skin immediately, making your nipples harden from the sudden loss of warmth.

Sokka whistled at the sight before Zuko nudged him hard in the side.

Aang stayed quiet, but his eyes were completely focused on your chest now.

“Nothing underneath?” Katara questioned with a knowing smile tugging at her lips.

“I— you all appeared out of nowhere— I didn’t have time—” you tried to explain quickly.

“She’s lying,” Toph interrupted with a grin.

Your face burned hotter as you looked down at your lap.

Katara raised a brow at you expectantly.

You took a deep breath as you closed your eyes, avoiding their eyes.

“I wore nothing on purpose,” you finally admitted on a quiet tone.

A moan instantly slipped from your lips when Katara’s hands squeezed your breasts, kneading the soft skin slowly.

“Oh,” she whispered against your ear. “Then maybe we’ll have to punish you for lying and for the other times you did things on purpose.”

Her fingers squeezed your nipples harder.

Then suddenly, you felt something freezing against your skin.

You jolted.

Looking down, you realized the tips of Katara’s fingers had turned icy cold, frost slowly forming against your heated skin. The sharp contrast made your entire body squirm in her lap.

She kept rubbing your nipples between her fingers, making shaky cries leave your throat from both the sting and pleasure of it.

“Mhm— ah!”

Your head fell back against her shoulder.

“Need some warmth?” she teased softly.

Before you could answer, you heard heavy footsteps approaching.

You lifted your head slightly and saw Zuko walking towards you before lowering himself onto his knees between your legs.

His large hands rested carefully against your knees first before slowly sliding upwards over your skin.

“That okay?” he asked quietly, eyes fixed on yours while waiting patiently for your answer.

You nodded automatically.

Katara immediately pressed colder fingers against your nipple in punishment for your non-verbal reply, making you jolt with a whimper.

“Yes! Yes, it’s okay— I’m sorry,” you gasped out quickly.

Zuko’s lips curled into a small teasing smirk before he slowly pushed aisde the material of your robes, completely revealing your legs along with your undergarments.

Then his palm slowly went between youe legs, pressing directly against your clothed core.

Your hips jerked forward instinctively at the warmth of his hand against your sensitive heat.

Katara’s lips brushed against your ear at the same time, making another shiver run through your body.

You had Katara’s cold hands on your breasts and Zuko’s warmth pressing down on you through the material, the contrast making your head spin.

You were so lost in the moment that you didn’t even notice Aang and Sokka stepping closer until they settled beside you on either side.

“Gonna help us out a little too, right?” Sokka asked with a grin.

“If you want to, of course,” Aang added with a soft voice, offering a nervous smile.

How could you even refuse them?

“I’d love—mhm— love to,” you say, a lot breathier than intended.

Sokka’s grin widened after hearing your reply. He then took your hand that rested on Katara’s leg, while Aang carefully lifted your other hand, fumbling slightly with his trousers.

Normally, you probably would’ve giggled at how awkward he looked for a second. But Zuko and Katara already had you dizzy from the overwhelming contrast of hot and cold sensations moving through your body.

You let both boys guide your hands where they wanted them, your eyes slightly widening when you saw them pulling out their half-hardened cocks.

Sokka was bigger than you expected, not overly thick but long enough to make your throat tighten. Aang was thicker, with more prominent veins running along his length, making you wonder how would it feel inside you.

Both of them were already leaking precum, feeling their wettnes the moment your fingers wrapped around them. Quiet hisses and groans filled the room as you started moving your hands slowly, thumbs spreading the slick fluid over their tips before stroking up and down carefully.

Sokka’s hand quickly caught your wrist, encouraging you to pump him faster, while Aang seemed to enjoy slower movements more.

So you tried your best to give both of them what they wanted.

But it was hard to stay focused.

Katara was still kneading your breasts like they belonged to her, earning soft whimpers from you every few seconds before icy jolts shot through your body whenever her cold fingertips brushed over your sensitive nipples too harshly.

At the same time, Zuko’s palm kept rubbing over your clothed core, thumb brushing your clit, pressing down and spreading his warmth all over, making your hips twitch forward helplessly.

When he finally stopped moving and pulled his hand away, you almost whimpered at the loss. But then your gaze dropped towards Toph, who was crawling towards you with a grin spread across her face.

“What—”

“Shh,” Katara cooed softly into your ear, her warm breath brushing your skin and making your heart race even faster. “It’s okay.”

Toph reached you and immediately pushed your legs apart wider while Zuko’s hand suddenly caught your chin, forcing your attention back onto him instead.

You blinked in confusion at first, only for your breath to catch when you realized he was freeing his cock too.

Slowly, carefully, he guided the tip against your parted lips.

“Just a little?” he asked, voice low as the tip brushed against your lower lip.

“Yes,” you breathed out quickly before Katara could punish you again for staying quiet.

That was all Zuko needed.

He pushed into your mouth too fast at first, making you gag immediately as tears burned at your eyes. He muttered a quick apology under his breath before pulling back slightly to let you breathe. Then he moved again, slower this time, more careful. Though you could still tell he wanted to go faster.

Your watery gaze dropped towards Toph, who was already pulling the rest of your clothes away completely. The second she exposed your cunt, her fingertips slid through your folds curiously before she chuckled softly at how wet you already were.

Your hips instinctively moved towards her touch, the sudden movement making you gag around Zuko again.

Toph only grinned wider at the sounds.

She lowered herself between your legs completely before hooking them over her shoulders.

Then her mouth was on you.

The first slow lick along your folds made your entire body shake. A second later, she sucked harshly at your clit, earning louder muffled cries from your throat around Zuko’s cock.

Katara kept whispering soft praises into your ear while stimulating your nipples relentlessly. They were probably swollen and red by now from how much attention she gave them, but the sting only turned you on more.

Your grip around Sokka and Aang loosened slightly as your focus completely shattered from all the sensations hitting you at once.

Zuko thrusting into your mouth.

Toph licking between your legs like she was starving.

Katara torturing your sensitive chest.

Sokka noticed immediately.

He firmly grabbed your wrist and guided your hand faster along his length, using your grip to help himself chase his release.

Aang stayed gentler instead.

He slowly rocked into your hand while one of his palms moved into your hair, carefully massaging your scalp and trying to comfort you despite how overwhelmed you already looked.

The room slowly filled with sounds.

Your muffled moans.

Sokka’s groans.

Aang’s shaky breaths.

Zuko’s rough grunts.

And the wet slurping noises coming from between your legs every time Toph sucked harder at your clit.

Meanwhile, Katara stayed steady behind you through all of it, paying attention to every reaction your body gave her. Every twitch. Every gasp.

Every tear gathering at your eyes whenever Zuko pushed too deep into your throat or Toph sucked your clit too harshly.

At one point, your eyes fluttered shut completely.

There were too many sensations at once. Too many hands touching you everywhere — your breasts, your waist, your stomach, your thighs.

“I’m close,” Zuko suddenly grunted.

Your eyes opened halfway.

Steam curled faintly from his skin and through his nose, while veins stood out sharply along his neck as his thrusts became rougher and sloppier.

Then, with a sharp breath, he finally pulled out and spilled over his own palm instead.

You inhaled deeply the second your mouth was free, finally able to breathe properly again—

—but the relief barely lasted two seconds.

Katara’s hand grabbed your chin firmly and turned your head towards her before she crashed her lips against yours.

The kiss instantly turned messy.

Teeth clashing. Lips biting.

Saliva slipping down your chin as she kissed you greedily, swallowing every shaky whimper that left your throat. At some point, her hand slid back down between your thighs, fingers pressing directly against your clit while Toph kept licking at your folds below.

Toph hummed against you, tightening her grip around your thighs.

You moaned louder, hips moving faster now until you were practically grinding your pussy against Toph’s face.

Your toes curled hard and a hot feeling started tightening inside your stomach, growing stronger with every touch, every movement, every hand on your body.

Then suddenly, another hand tilted your chin upwards.

Aang.

He lowered himself closer before pulling you into another kiss immediately after Katara let you go. You thought he would be a bit more composed, but with the way his tongue pushed into your mouth desperately… it was far from that.

Your hand still stroked him through the kiss, feeling him twitch harder and harder in your grip. He whimpered against your lips, both hands tangling into your hair as he pulled you closer.

The kiss quickly became sloppy and desperate. Then his whole body tensed suddenly.

You felt hot cum spill over your hand while his movements faltered completely. Small apologies left his lips between kisses, breathless and embarrassed.

You couldn’t help smiling faintly against his mouth.

But before the moment could last, another strong hand wrapped gently around your throat, pulling you away from Aang.

Then Sokka kissed you next.

He no longer needed help to finish as he did the work by himself since you were so lost in the moment.

Your jaw hurt and your lips were completely swollen because of the kissing. You were still trying to focus on reaching that feeling that felt so close.

You let out a moan as you let Sokka’s tongue leave your mouth, while your hips rose up to meet Toph faster. But before you can feel that sweet pressure finally snap, you heard Katara’s voice behindyou.

“Stop,” her voice came out strong and firm, making you shiver.

Toph’s movements slow down as she leans back, while Sokka’s mouth leaves yours.

“But—” you try to complain.

“Where would be the punishment if we let you get what you want?” she smiled at you, but her eyes gave you another message… one that stirred something in you. Something heavy and dark and… curious.

You’ve never thought you’d enjoy feeling so many hands on you, so many mouths, so many bodies… but you did, and you wanted to see how far this will go.

Katara patted your leg to get up, and you tried, but you almost fell due to your wobbly legs, yet Aang moved faster and caught you in his strong arms.

“Easy,” he whispered in your ear, making you look up at him, seeing how fond he was looking at you. He had that kind smile on his face.

Before you can even thank him, you heard Katara’s voice behind you, sending shivers down your spine.

you sigh, tilting the kettle to find the “on/off” button, “i’m literally just making us tea. can’t you go a minute without touching me?”

toph tuts, slotting her chin on your shoulder as she presses her hips against yours, “no, no. you don’t get it. your ankle’s sprained, so someone’s gotta hold you steady. mhm mhm, wouldn’t want you to fall over.”

“toph, if you were a dude, i’d feel your bulge poke my ass.”

she only shrugs, rubbing over your waist, “well, good thing i’m not a dude then.”

you roll your eyes, exasperated, “that’s.. not the point. at all. whatever, do you like peach tea?”

she scoffs, the hot puff of air hitting your face, “peach tea? what are you, twelve? don’t you have a more grown-up flavor?”

you huff, opening the upper cabinet to take two cups out, “fuck off, it’s the only one i like. it’s either that or my stash of tequila.”

“that’s too grown-up.”

“yeah, that’d be really bad if i gave a fuck,” you reach for your tea bags, “so unless you want to get drunk at three pm, just drink the— wait. that’s actually a great idea.”

she gives you a deadpan look, “great idea? getting drunk at three? jingle bells, are you an alcoholic?”

“not really, but talking to you makes me wish i was.” you ditch the cups, leaving her grasp to head for your stash.

she scratches her head, “you know, maybe you should just stick to the tea..”

“no,” you open the fridge, happily picking up a bottle, “i wanna get drunk, right now. you’re a fucking genius.”

“can’t say the same about you,” she quips, and you shoot her a glare, “you’re getting drunk with a stranger in your house. you can’t be that dumb, right?”

“oh no,” you walk back over to her, teasingly lifting her chin with the tip of your bottle, “are you gonna do bad things to me, stranger?”

she grabs the bottle, lowering it, making somewhat accurate eye contact with you, “are you willing to gamble on that?”

you scoff, moving away, “ew, that’s a disgusting reply.”

“it’s a realistic one.” her hand shoots out to grab your wrist, and the sudden seriousness in her gaze throws you off. “obviously, i wouldn’t do anything to you, but you can’t just invite any fucking stranger in and get drunk and vulnerable with them. how can you even be so sure of my intentions?”

“i—” you huff, an embarrassed blush creeping up your cheeks, “d-don’t lecture me about stranger safety, you idiot. obviously, i wouldn’t just let anyone in, i’m not fucking stupid. you.. you’re— ..”

“i’m?” she steps closer, invading your space, a small smirk tugging at her lips, “what is it? what makes me special to you?”

heat floods your face when she leans down to your height, her attractiveness making your nerves go haywire. you push her off with a flustered whine, “stop being weird! fine then, let’s just have the fucking tea!”

“there you go,” she pulls back with a chuckle, finally breaking character, “smart girl.”

you shakily dip your tea bags in your cups, still rattled by whatever the hell that was, “f-fuck you.”

“sure, maybe later.”

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

“eugh, this is nastyyy..” she drawls, sticking her tongue out in disgust as the tea swirls in her cup.

you silently glare at her, seated across from her, still flustered from her earlier stunt. why was she acting like nothing happened? the tension was insane, and now she’s just.. whining about tea. it was just like your bus incident, all that fighting just for her to.. casually brush it aside.

why was she like this?

“tastes like, hmm, warm water. seriously, it’s so bland.”

you scoff, shaking the thoughts off to take a sip of yours, “that’s what tea is, shut up.”

“you’re mad.” it’s not a question.

“i’m not.”

“why are you mad?”

you set your tea down on the table, a scowl on your face, “because you’re insufferable.”

“i won’t disagree,” her spoon clinks against the rim of her cup as she absentmindedly stirs it, “but how exactly?”

“you think you’re so smart,” you glare down at your poor, innocent drink, “you treat me like i’m some stupid, thoughtless girl. what was all that about earlier? you were spouting creepy bullshit at me, and y—”

“ahh,” she chuckles, propping her cheek on one hand as her free one reaches to tuck your hair behind your ear, “you’re still on about that?”

you groan, baffled by the audacity of the question, “why wouldn’t i be!? you literally—”

“wow, you’re pierced,” she sits up straight, smiling at the cold feel of the earrings she accidentally grazed, feeling them under her fingertips. “damn, really pierced.”

you blink, taken off guard again, then you blush harder, “see, you’re doing it again! whenever i try confronting you, y—you just keep distracting me by—”

“is that a daith?” she whistles, brushing over your inner piercings, “and a conch. jesus, i heard they hurt like hell. you’re one strong woman.”

your eye uselessly twitches at the relentless cut offs, and she seems to revel in your stammering.

“you— you’re so— ughhhh! i hate you so much!” you groan in defeat, clutching the right side of your head while curious fingers continue prodding at your left earlobe.

to your surprise, her other hand joins in to feel your other ear too, her thumbs caressing your cheeks while the rest of her fingers trace the piercings.

you flush completely red at the close contact, but she only offers a casual smile, “they both have different jewelry? that’s pretty cool. which one’s more pierced?”

“my.. right one.” you sigh, giving up on properly communicating with this stubborn fuck and deciding to indulge her instead. plus, you liked showing off your piercings, so you reluctantly found yourself eager to tell her more. “i sleep on my left side, so my right piercings heal better.”

she hums approvingly, now moving to your face, “an eyebrow piercing.. a nose stud, too.”

you swallow, slightly shy. this felt more intimate than you thought it’d be. after all, nobody had felt your piercings up like this — i mean, they could see them, so they had no reason to.

her thumb gently presses down on your plush bottom lip, her voice lowering down to a whisper, “what’s this one called again?”

“a.. vertical labret,” you whisper back, your heart doing a traitorous flip at the focused look on her face, “um, that’s about all, for my facial piercings.”

“i see,” her sightless eyes flit up to yours, gaze somewhat heavy, “where else are you pierced?”

you think the question over for a few seconds before answering, “honestly, too many places. i don’t know if i’ll be able to recount them all.”

“then don’t,” her voice is oddly low, and it makes your brows raise a little, puzzled. her thumb slowly leaves your lip, “let me feel them.”

okay, what the fuck.

she couldn’t be dense enough not to know what the hell she was implying, or not feel the tension brewing,

you stare at her, trying to catch the slightest crack in her expression, but she totally meant every word. and you couldn’t read her nor her intentions at all.

and yet, you couldn’t find it in yourself to refuse her, nor did you genuinely want to.

you slowly get up from your seat, the sting of your ankle helping you snap back a bit to reality, a hand on the table for support as you walk over to her seat.

she leans back, legs wide open for you to stand between them.

she huffs out a small laugh, her hands finding your adorned waist, “this is just like earlier. you stood between my legs just like this, then you told me off in front of everyone on that bus.”

you grunt, blushing again, “stop mentioning that. you deserved it, you looked like a pervert.”

“well,” svelte fingers fiddle with the jingly waist beads, sliding under them to feel the warm skin, “i think i look more like a pervert now.”

you hum, looking down at her, “well, i think you are a pervert.”

“so harsh,” her index lightly taps your hip, “anyway, about those piercings.”

“right,” you exhale softly, the air feeling a little hotter than usual.

“ohh, a belly piercing,” her thumb brushes over the heart-shaped jewel sitting in your navel. she smirks, “that’s a slutty pick.”

“it’s cute,” you argue, watching her hands splay flat over your waist, like she was trying to feel up as much exposed skin as she could.

“slutty and cute aren’t mutually exclusive,” she replies, and you completely agree.

her touch slides down to your lower back, and that pleasantly surprises her. “are these back dermals? i’ve never actually seen them up close before.”

you nod, “yeah. i mean that’d be pretty hard to do, especially with you being, you know, fucking blind.”

“there’s a special place in hell for you, bitch.” she pinches your hip, chuckling at the small squeak it pulls out of you. “now be quiet, let me feel the rest.”

…

“.. you do know there obviously aren’t any piercings on my ass, right?” you ask, glaring down at her as she fondles it again.

“i don’t know,” she squeezes the soft flesh, “for all i know, there could be.”

you roll your eyes, “well, there’s none. hands off.”

“do you even have any clothes on?” she feels down the bare back of your thighs, “where do you even find skirts this tiny? it literally only fits your ass, and barely.”

you smile widely, your chest puffing out with pride, “i know!”

her hands find the swell of your butt again, but this time she grabs it and pulls you down into her lap, straddling one of her strong thighs.

your eyes blow wide open, cheeks flushing red in bewilderment, “w-what are you doing!?”

“shh,” her breath hitting your neck only flusters you further, making your brain short-circuit. she bounces her thigh once to slide you closer, your chest now flush against hers, and the brief pressure makes your breath hitch.

you stare at her, speechless, the sweetest of smiles on her face.

“t-toph,” you squirm, trying to ignore the feel of the clothed muscle right under you, only separated by the thin material of her sweatpants, “don’t you think this is.. a little too..”

“hm?” she tilts her head, fingers flexing around your waist, “too what?”

you’re about to answer when she bounces her leg again, and you can’t help the startled moan that slips out of your lips.

“oh,” her brows raise, the pieces finally clicking, “right. i’m sorry, i forgot you’re basically naked. you must be feeling everything.”

the embarrassment was killing you.

you tried to desperately tug your skirt down, but the material was too little and too tight to do anything but uselessly bunch up around your hips.

“don’t be so nervous,” she caresses your lower back, condescendingly looking up at you, “you’re obviously not a virgin, so what are you so jumpy for?”

you huff, scandalized, “that has nothing to do with—”

“oh.” her eyes widen, then her grin does.

your brows furrow in confusion as she chuckles, “your nips are pierced too.”

you blink. “huh? what did you— ..”

you trail off, your eyes drifting down to where your chests met. fuck, your tits were completely squished up against hers, so the metal must have poked through.

“that’s slutty,” her hands slowly inch up your torso, mouths so close your breaths mingled with each other. “reaaal slutty. you sleep around, princess?”

you scoff, cheeks flushed from both embarrassment and reluctant arousal, “and? what about it?”

she smiles, leaning down to press a kiss to your neck, “so that’s why you’re so easy.”

“e-easy?” you bite back a whimper when she presses another one under your ear. your hands travel up to her hair, giving it a tug, offended, “you can’t call me that when you’re way easier.”

“oh, i know i am.” she pulls back, weirdly proud for what she was saying, “i’m the easiest bitch around the block. i’ve probably done every girl in the neighborhood.”

you huff, glaring down at her, “what a fucking slut.”

she shrugs, licking her own lips, “at least i’m not in denial.”

you part your lips to give her a snappy response back, but only a startled squeal escapes, her hands grabbing sudden handfuls of your tits.

“woah,” she chuckles, squeezing the flesh, “holy shit.”

“w—what the hell do you think you’re— mmh..”

you mewl, her fingers toying with the metal barbells through the thin crop top, rolling your peaked nipples as well.

she snickers, “yeah, if i wasn’t blind, i’d definitely be ogling. wow, you’re so hot. no wonder your personality’s so shit.”

you would’ve protested if she didn’t immediately start bouncing her leg up and down, the pace just right, the motion along with her skilled hands on your breasts dragging a string of shameless moans out of your lips.

“so fucking easy. do you do this with every stranger you invite in for tea?” she taunts when you start grinding down on her thigh yourself, your damp panties slowly soaking her pants.

“s-shut up,” you weakly huff out, closing your eyes to ignore the mocking grin on her face as you ride her thigh, your jewelry clinking with every roll of your hips.

one of her hands ditch your bouncing boobs, trailing down your waist to find where you needed her most, but you quickly grab her wrist.

“w-wait,” you glance at her through half-lidded eyes, panting, “are you sure about this? i-i’m not looking for a relationship, and i don’t want this to—”

“oh, you sweet thing,” she coos, coaxing another needy whine from you when she flicks your nipple, “you’re so, so considerate. don’t worry, hot stuff. i think i would probably block you if you asked me for a relationship.”

your grip slackens a little, and her fingers waste no time in breaching the hem of your skirt. she smiles, feeling your pace pick up, dragging your clit over the now damp sweats, “this is just what girls do together, isn’t it?”

your next moan is swallowed by an eager pair of lips, one hand fondling your pierced breast, the other finally sliding under your panties.

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

* the concept of situationship/fwb toph 😩 yeah i am NOT ditching this series anytime soon

and yes peach tea is the only flavor i like and NO i don’t care

“not to interrupt your daydreaming about me,” you jumped at her voice, startled. she smiled down at you, “i know i’m blind, but i’m not stupid. i can pick up on your silence and your heartbeat enough to understand you’re staring at me. plus, it’s what most of you sighted people do the first time you meet a blind person. kinda rude if i do say myself, and really repetitive.”

you blushed a deep shade of red, torn between shame and denial, “i—i wasn’t—”

“aw,” she cooed, rocking you in her arms like a baby, “you totally weren’t. i believe you, jingle bells.”

you groaned, squirming in her grasp, “you’re so annoying!”

“and you’re a shameless pervert.”

“p-pervert!?” your eyes widened, indignantly glaring up at her, “don’t try to flip this on me! i was just looking at your face, that’s not perv—”

“ah-ha!” she snickered, giving you a bounce in her arms, “now you admit you were looking. wow, i think you’re the worst liar i’ve ever seen. and i can’t even see!”

medically speaking, you could feel all the symptoms of a fucking brain aneurysm setting in throughout this conversation.

“you— you— you’re so— ugh! whatever!” you huffed in defeat, dropping your head on her shoulder, giving up on ever properly speaking to this woman.

she chuckled, hand flexing around your thigh, “i’m so what? so pretty, apparently, from how you spent the last five minutes drooling over me. am i reaaally that gorgeous? ouch!”

you pinched her torso, lifting your head to glare at her again, “you’re so insufferable. i’ve never met anybody who has made me want to end my life this much in the span of an hour.”

“oh stop it,” she fake moaned, the proudest of smiles on her face, “you’re turning me on.”

“i’m gonna— ugh! you know what? whatever!” you scoffed, cheeks flushed, taking your arms off her neck to cross them over your chest, “i’m not even gonna reply to you anymore. silence is the best answer to a dumbass.”

she hummed happily, “well actually, the saying is ‘silence is the best reply to a fool.’”

“does anybody like being around you?”

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

even though you were only a street away, the walk felt like hours, your sanity hanging by a string as thin as your thong.

you let out the biggest relieved sigh when the bakery’s sign finally came in full view, your building door close to it.

“just here,” you tap her arm for her to stop, “i live here, thanks.”

“you’re welcome,” she lowers you down, and you reluctantly miss the warmth of her thick arms around you. but if it came with the price of her unending quips, you were ready to sleep on an iceberg instead. camp there, even.

your good foot touches the ground first, your hand on her shoulder for balance. you tentatively try to take a step with your injured one, but the loud wail slipping out of your lips is enough for her to tug you back to her side again.

“small steps,” she pats your hip, “your ligament probably tore a bit. hopefully nothing bad, but you should still get it checked out properly later, or tomorrow.”

you sigh, irritated, “you’re right. ugh, i’m never wearing those heels again. how am i gonna go up all these stairs now?”

she returns your sigh, “right? if only there was somebody around who could carry you. it’d be great if they could magically spawn right now. one can only dream. if only..”

you roll your eyes, exasperated, “did nobody teach you how to speak? you can’t even offer help without your stupid sarcasm?”

“nevermind,” she lets go of you, and you squeal, having nothing to hold onto, plopping back down on your butt. she folds her arms behind her head, uninterested, “i don’t feel like helping a bitchy little thing like you.”

“are you seriously—”

“ah, sorry,” she rubbed her ear, smiling down at you, “i can’t hear bitch.”

you scoffed, baffled, “fuck you, then! fuck you, and fuck your help. you’re so rude. i’m not gonna beg you to pick me up. you can go fuck yourself.”

“sure then,” she shrugged, turning on her heel, and you felt panic seize your heart. there was nobody else around here! how long would you have to wait before someone else passes by to give you a hand?? your only option left was to crawl your way to the bakery you went to every morning, humiliating yourself in front of the staff who saw you everyday.. no way.

“w-wait!” the word leaves your mouth before you can even think, and you could just tell she had the biggest grin on her face even though her back was facing you.

she stopped in her tracks, and you felt heat flood your cheeks with embarrassment.

“mhm? want something?”

your fingers curled around the fabric of your skirt, looking down, “i.. i want you to.. pick me up again..”

“can’t hear you,” she walks back over to you, practically beaming, as she leans down to your height. “sorry, my hearing’s bad. could you speak up?”

what a bitch. she was blind, hearing was her strongest fucking sense. you had to bite your lip to refrain from cussing out her entire bloodline, only your earlier gratitude and current need were holding you back.

“i.. i said, i want you to pick me up again.”

she was all up in your face now, only a few inches separating you. she hums pensively, “hm, doesn’t sound like begging to me.”

your nails dig into your thighs through your clothes, the veins bulging out as you swallow your pride. “please, carry me.”

“my name’s toph,” she says it casually, like this was the best timing to exchange names. she grins, toying with a strand of your hair, “now say it all pretty for me. something like ‘oh, pretty please, beautiful toph. could you carry little ole me? please, toph, you’re the only one who can help me. i’m so helpless.’ “

the singy song lilt in her voice as she mocked you made your anger boil over. you grabbed her by her tank top, pulling her flush against you, your foreheads bumping.

you glared daggers into her, torn between slapping her or biting her smirk off, but she only tilted her head, smug as ever, “so? what will it be? i don’t have all day.”

“.. please, toph.” you grudgingly mumble, deciding to set your violent urges to the side until you were in a better position to backtalk her. “will you please carry me?”

she chuckles, and just like that, you’re back in her arms in seconds. “attagirl,” she croons down at you, “that wasn’t so hard now, was it? good job, jingle bells. i’m so proud of you. now, say ‘i’m your little bitch’.”

“don’t push it.”

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

she mercifully stays quiet as she takes you up to your floor. seriously, what were you thinking, renting an apartment on the fourth floor with no elevator available? you should’ve considered potential foot injuries, earthquakes, so many other things.. but oh well, the price and the view were good to pass up for a broke university student like you, and it honestly felt like an extension of you at this point, with all the years and money you spent decorating it.

when you finally make it, she gently sets you down on your good leg, holding you steady with one hand as you search for your house keys in your bag. you steal a brief glance at her, and despite her snappy attitude and how insanely annoying she was, you weren’t above common courtesy. after all, she did just carry you from your bus stop to your house. you could give credit where it was due.

you clear your throat, opening the door, “you can come in for a cup of tea, if you want. as a thank you.”

that earns you a soft squeeze on the hip. “i didn’t know you were into one night stands, jingle bells. but i wouldn’t say no to that.”

“nevermind,” you scoff, hand on the wall to support you as you make your way in ahead of her.

“don’t be like that. i’m just pulling your leg. well, clearly not your busted one.”

you completely ignore her, hearing the door shut behind her, before an appreciative whistle leaves her lips. “wow, you have a great apartment. it looks really gorgeous.”

you instantly perk up at that, buttered up in a second — you prided yourself on your taste, so compliments about it were your favourite, whether that be your taste in clothes, accessories, even your furniture. you turn to face her, excited. “ah, thank you so— ..”

you trail off, watching her bite back a laugh, confused. it takes you a second before the realization dawns on you. this asshole.

“tophhhh!! i hate you so fucking much!” you throw the nearest pillow at her, fuming, and she bursts out laughing, arms clutching her stomach as she doubles over.

she repeats your words, choking on her own giggles, “ ‘t-thank you so—’ ”

“get out!” you yell, the sound coming out all girlish and squeaky, flushed with embarrassment as you send a barrage of pillows her way.

the sight of her so exhilarated — literally rolling on the floor, her porcelain skin now a deep shade of red, unable to even properly speak through her laughter — eventually wore you down. you cracked a smile, your throws not stopping.

“s-shut up already!” you huffed out a small laugh, picking up the pillows that bunched up around her feet to hit her with them when your stock ended, “you’re the worst.”

she didn’t even bother protecting herself, flat on her back as she kicked her legs, and you joined in on her laughter too, giving her one last hit to the head before plopping down on her yourself.

“stop laughing!” you ordered, even though you were just as tickled, pinching her cheeks and stretching them out.

after a few minutes, your cackling finally subsided, leaving you both panting. you were still straddling her, her face marked by your long nails digging into her skin from your onslaught, as you tried to catch your breaths.

you flick her forehead, smiling down at her, “you’re not funny. you’re terrible, you don’t deserve my tea.”

“oh no,” her hands slide up to rub your hips, “not the tea.”

“but seriously though. thank you,” you brush away the mussy strands on her face, sweaty from all the movement, “you’re a cunt, but i do appreciate you going out of your way to help me out. so, thank you for that.”

“you’re so sappy, jingle bells.”

“you won’t get a reaction out of me. accept my thanks first.”

“i do.” she sighs, giving you a break, “you’re welcome, then.”

“good. i’m glad we’re on the same page.”

..

“.. also, toph?”

“mhm?”

“you do know that i can feel you groping my ass, right?”

she hums, giving it another unapologetic squeeze, “oh sorry, i’m blind. i thought it was.. your face.”

you roll your eyes, “my first impression of you was right, after all. you’re just a fucking pervert.”

“am nottt,” she quips, fondling the flesh without a care in the world, “you just have one hell of an ass on you. everyone else can see it, but i can’t. so be kind and let this poor, blind girl feel it.”

you slap the side of her head and get off her, limping off to the kitchen, using the walls as support, “i’m gonna piss in your tea. all nice and hot, just for you.”

you hear her shift on the floor behind you, “you promise?”

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

part 3 here.

* breathe if you love me ❤️

it goes one of two ways...

after a long day of school or work, there's nothing aang loves more than the feeling of come home to his clean apartment that he shares with love of his life. he'll cook the two of you a nutritious dinner, made with careful consideration.

you'll work in tandem to tidy everything up with quiet jazz playing in the background. candles are lit throughout your apartment, making the air warm and sweet.

you'd shower together. but not to have sex and only because aang asked you oh so nicely. "please, love," he begged, arms wrapping around your waist from behind. he'd hold you loosely, nosing at the column of your neck because he just wants to smell you. "jus' missed you, is all."

he'd use gentle hands to scrub your back, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he washes off the soap, steam filling up the small bathroom. it's bad enough on it's own, but with aang's large, towering frame, you could hardly breathe. "sorry," he'd pout when he bumps into you and knocks your body wash onto the floor again, but he doesn't sound that sorry as he manhandles your wet, slippery body so that you're standing under the shower head. he pressed an apology kiss to the crown of your head, but you turned around to glare at him anyways.

it's once the night shift is over (big lights off, curtains closed, doors locked) and there's nothing other than the glow of aang's pc in your bedroom that the mood shifts.

you'd been laying leisurely on your bed, book in hand for the better part of an hour, whilst aang worked on his world in minecraft when he finally spun around with a frown.

it always starts the same.

"my love," he'd call out, voice all sad. you know better than to look up, humming noncommittally in response before aang calls out and says he's "so lonely" because you're "so far away."

the worst part is you know he's being serious, too.

you'd pretend to not know what he wants at first, much to his chagrin. he lasts all of three seconds before he's flying from his chair and onto the bed dramatically. resting his palms on your stomach, head atop of them, he'd look up with you big puppy dog eyes. "please..."

which always leads you here.

"hnng—" aang grunts, both of his calloused palm supporting the back of your head, thumbs brushing soothingly in your hair. "you're doing so good," he pants.

you've been working his length for over thirty minutes now, jaw aching and saliva dripping down your chin and onto the plush rug that aang placed under his desk ages ago when he first discovered that this was one of his favorite things to do.

you looked up at him, all tear-eyed, cheeks bulging with nothing but him.

the groan aang lets out is primal, head slamming back against the headrest of his chair as his fingers instinctively tighten in your hair before flexing to let go, afraid of hurting you. "don't look at me like that."

his hips stutter, bucking involuntarily into your warm throat when your tongue presses against the underside of his slit. precum oozes out, lubricating your mouth even moreso, allowing him to slide his large cock back and forth with ease.

he put up a good fight at first, he always does. headset firmly on, eyes fixed on the screen in concentration and providing nothing more than an occasional reassuring hand on your head to remind you that he knows you're there. but all it takes is one stroke, your hand coming up to pump the length that you can't fit into your mouth before the headset gets thrown off and he's pulling the chair back to see you.

and when aang finally comes, he'd start in your mouth but he's quick to pull out. he'd grip your chin tight in his left hand before pumping his fat cock with his right, right out whimpering as he paints your face with his cum. "ah—fu—" he'd bite down on his bottom lip, squeezing his eyes shut as he panted through his orgasm. aang would peek down at you, opening one eye with furrowed brows, and it makes him cum even harder. "mm—you're the prettiest girl i've ever seen," he'd state it like a fact.

the sight of you, there on your knees, looking up at him with his cum all over your pretty, pretty face is just too much for him to handle.

he's covered in a thin sheen of sweat and once he finally comes down from his high, he's breathing so heavily. but before you can even blink, aang hauls you up effortlessly and placing you gently on his lap. "you okay?" aang would whisper, hand coming up to wipe away anything obstructing your vision and breathing. his other hand would start rubbing at whichever knee he can reach.

sometimes all you can manage to do is nod, but aang never has any of that. "use your words for me," he'd prompt, cupping your face, patiently waiting for you to answer.

and once you've confirmed that you're good, thighs still quivering and face still sticky, aang's eyes would darken, voice lowering an octave as he says, "good."

next thing you know, you're flat against the bed. oh trust that the night is far from over.

orrr it'd go...and hear me out here...

sometimes, and sickeningly, aang likes you on your knees in front of him when he's gaming with sokka and zuko. it's soo wrong, he feels guilty, he really does. here are some of his closest friends, screaming in his ear about how they're playing ranked and aang's tanking them, damn it!

he should care. he usually does. but aang just can't bring it in himself to concentrate...

but idk maybe i'm just saying things, maybe we don't need to go there :)

-

don't fucking ask me where this came from !! god forbid the aang parasite is singing in my head today smh

you could only gulp in response.

then, he’s rising above you, broad, muscular shoulders boxing you in as he settles between your thighs. the heavy heat of his dick presses against your sensitive, aching entrance, his incandescent gaze dragging over your face like he’s trying to memorize every expression, every shaky inhale.

as if he was mapping out your features to store in the forefront of his mind. to painfully revisit over and over again.

the realization that had struck him back at the temple as he looked at every mural, every worn painting and towering statue of the air nomads. they all looked like his people. familiar faces, familiar smiles, familiar powers.

but none of them resembled you.

none carried the curve of your lashes or the little furrow in your brow when you worried. none had your laugh, the unique slope of your nose, your warmth, your favor for sour over sweet, your gentleness for children and particular bugs. none exuded your enchanting presence, whether you could bend or not. and suddenly, the grief that sat in his chest for years changed shape entirely. because what would be the point of preserving the world he lost if, in doing so, he lost every trace of the person he loved most within it?

“this—this isn’t about me reviving airbenders or a duty to save my dying culture. this isn’t about avatar sonam or tagah or monk gyatso or anything that has to do with bending. this is about you and me and me wanting to start a family with you,” he states with that heavy, solid avatar voice of his. firm and sure, thumb brushing along your jaw, “this is about me making sure that a part of you will always exist in a world where the avatar exists. that your lips, your eyes, your soul. . . live on for eternity. so that every time i look into this world through the eyes of the new avatar, i can still see you. see you in our grandchildren, in our great-great grandchildren, in the people that will come to exist because we loved each other. . . to know that you’ll always be in my life someway, somehow.”

“aang. . .”

“i realize now that there will come a day when airbending returns, whether in our lifetime or long after we’re gone.” he presses his forehead against yours, tone softer despite the ache in his words. “i know that i’ll get to see that vision through the eyes of the avatars who will come after me. and if i keep chasing impossible answers, impossible resolves— if i keep throwing myself at a future i can’t force into existence— i’ll lose you in the process. i’ll waste the little time we’re given together. with our friends. with our children. the thought of losing you to time. . .”

it killed him.

you feel it. the shift in him. the sincerity behind every broken word, every trembling breath. the sheer despair that claws through him at the thought of you leaving nothing behind of yourself, of the love the two of you share. the regret he’d forever live with if he only prioritized the revival of air-bending or the kids that would inherit it. and the fact that he still hasn’t left the avatar state only makes it worse, every emotion stripped raw and vulnerable beneath glowing eyes and tattoos and shaking hands.

“so i vow now that i will never neglect your life or your culture for the sake of mine. whether we have airbending children or not. . . that is up to the universe.”

his hands cup your cheeks gently as he leans in, drawing you into a slow, sloppy kiss. you could only gasp softly when his tongue slips past your lips, kissing you like he’s trying to seal his fate with yours.

he slowly pulls away, thick fingers easing you open as he makes room for himself. “i can live without other airbenders. i can make due with the acolyte family we’ve founded. what i cannot live without is you. what i cannot imagine not ingrained in this world beyond my lifetime is you.”

aang smiles for the first time tonight, like the image in his mind was far more beautiful than anything he could’ve ever imagined. he sinks inside, massive and overwhelming, drawing a raspy breath from your lungs at the sheer stretch of him. still, you pull him closer, wanting nothing more than to feel the slow, heavy drag of him inside you.

“so for now,” he whispers, breath warm against your lips as he begins moving slowly, in and out, “all i want is a child with you. one that embodies everything that you are. one that will carry on your memory, your curiosity, your strength, your traits.” gone was the glow of the avatar state, the white fading slowly from his eyes until they were simply his again, fixed on yours with a tenderness so deep it was almost unbearable. “so i’m begging you. . . give me a baby that looks just like you.”

you cry out helplessly as he buries his face into your throat, holding you impossibly close. every stroke is long and deliberate, driven far less by hunger and more by an emotion too large for words. the slick of your arousal coats his balls as you helplessly grind against him, cunt fluttering around the girthiness of his base. you could feel all the veins that line him, tracing your walls as he fucked you like he needed you to breathe.

you blink back the tears threatening to spill. “b-but i do want our baby to be like you. i do want to help you—”

he shakes his head fervently, fingers tightening around you like he’s afraid you still don’t understand. “no. no,” he rasps, “i don’t want this to be some duty you carry for me. i want this because it’s us. because it’s the life we chose together. no obligations. no sacrifices.”

you feel the dampness at the corner of his eyes as he clings to you, hands roaming your body in a worship-like trance, as though he was reassuring himself that you were real and here and present and his. to have and to hold and to sink himself into when the world is in chaos.

“please,” he croaks hoarsely into your neck, voice cracking around the word, and the raw vulnerability in it makes your chest ache more than anything else ever could. “say you’ll give me a baby, sweetheart. say you’ll give me this one thing. even if they come without air-bending.”

a broken sound leaves your throat as you cling to his shoulders, nodding desperately against him, back arching into his warmth. “yes,” you breathe out shakily, fingers curling around his nape. “yes, yes, yes. of course, i will.”

the words—your defining proclamation—undo him entirely. he groans into the curve of your neck, holding you so tightly it almost hurts, every breath hot, cold, then hot again against your skin. he cums in thick, long spurts, coating your insides pearly white as you cream on his cock, legs caging him in. his tattoos begin to faintly glow once more as he shivers, hips still pumping his seed into you, forehead pressed beneath your jaw, as though he can’t bear even an inch of distance between you.

when he finally pulls back, his eyes have returned to their natural state, shining with something far softer than desire.

devotion, perhaps. a need to always keep you safe. to give you—and your children—a world that offers everything and takes nothing in return.

“i love you,” he murmurs softly, brushing the damp strands of your hair from your face. he rests his forehead against yours again, eyes slipping closed as his heart, for once, is at ease. “thank you.”

your lips tremble into a tired smile, fingers curling weakly around his head. “you never have to thank me for loving you.”

though your words alone could never truly capture the depth of everything you’ve given him.