AMARA

“hah?” he lifts his head, staring at you in disbelief. “what kind of comeback is that?”

“it’s a valid question.”

“no, it’s not!”

“it is.”

“you’re full of shit.”

a laugh slips out before you can stop it.

“sounds like someone doesn’t know his own ad.”

his eye twitches.

“don’t turn this against me.” he points at you accusingly. “give me that phone.”

“nope.”

“give it.”

“make me.”

the second the words leave your mouth, you regret them. his grin is immediate.

“oh, now you’ve done it.”

“katsuki—”

he lunges across the couch.

“no— katsuki!!”

you squeal, nearly dropping your phone as you scramble away. he grabs for it while you twist out of reach, both of you laughing and shoving each other around the cushions.

“hand it over!”

“never!”

“you watched it twelve times!”

“research purposes!”

“liar!” he barks, already trying to pry the phone from your hands while you laugh again.

Sokka had rolled his eyes. "You're both so old and boring. I'm literally older than both of you and yet—"

Aang had tuned out his rant with practised ease while you had entertained Sokka's loud woes with the purpose of riling him up more and life simply continued.

Which brings Aang back to bass thrumming through his skin and his drink wetting his hand due to the dripping condensation. He nods politely to those who greet him, entertains a brief conversation here and there from passing acquaintances and is coaxed into playing beer pong by a tipsy Toph.

"You'll be my eyes," she delegates as she drags him towards the noisy table lined with strategically placed cups of beer. "Just tell me where to aim and let me work my magic."

"Wouldn't that be cheating?" Aang asks, allowing himself to be situated by Toph's side and already taking his task seriously. "Seems like an unfair advantage."

Toph snorts. "I'm blind, Twinkletoes."

Aang nods solemnly. "Touche."

They proceed to win four rounds of beer pong and Aang wanders away from it, a little high off off their successes. He leaves a cackling Toph stuffing her winnings into her pockets, begins to head towards the kitchen for some water when a thought strikes him—he hasn't seen you in a while.

You had stayed close together when you first entered the house, hands entwined as you navigated your way through a much smaller crowd. Then Katara had appeared, bright-eyed and pretty in her shimmery eye shadow and to pull you away from him. Aang had only blinked in mild surprise as he watched you disappear up the stairs, you just as surprised as Katara yelled, "I'll have her back soon!" before you both vanished around the corner. That was the last time he had seen you and while he knows you're fine, he can't help but feel antsy because, well, he misses you and it's hard to know you're both in the same vicinity and he can't see you.

Aang decides to locate Katara since you'll most likely be with her and starts towards the stairs. But on his way there, he glances towards the room of crowded dancing bodies and stops right in his tracks because right there—you're right there.

You look…ethereal is the right word.

It's like the rest of the room fades away as Aang's eyes focus on you, trained to pick you out in a mass of even a million people. You're dancing to music, hips swinging with the beat as your hands slide over the swells of your chest and down your stomach. Katara's right behind you, sure grip on your hips as she guides you through the rhythm and you're both grinning, lost in the moment of something stronger than friendship and built upon true comfort. Aang watches, his smile growing and heart fond, and is about to turn away to look for Sokka when he catches it.

A man dances towards you with intent, a smarmy grin on his face as he gets closer and closer. You and Katara haven't noticed yet but Aang has and he's already moving, pushing his way through shaking backsides and jabbing elbows. He's still got his sights on you, all of his senses on high and boiling over the moment the man gets to you before he does. Then it's like everything goes into slow motion; Aang watches this man set his hands on your hips and press forward until you're trapped between him and Katara. Immediately your eyes fly open at the intrusion and your hands are quick to push the man away, pretty features twisting with unbridled rage. Katara is right there with you, stepping between you and the man with her own fury front and centre.

The man doesn't back down; he even attempts to reach around Katara to touch you and Aang doesn't know when he snaps.

He just does.

"I don't see what the problem is," the man laughs, his grip on your wrist uncomfortably firm. "Can't a guy approach two beautiful ladies and dance with them? Especially if one of them catches his eye?" His wink towards you brings forth a visceral reaction, your face scrunched up in disgust. "And I don't see a man with her so unless you two are scissor sisters, maybe you can tell your bodyguard here to back off. Unless she wants to join—?"

He's promptly interrupted by a swift punch to the face that sends him staggering into a dancing couple. Both you and Katara are startled by the suddenness and are then shocked when they see who caused it.

"Aang," you say softly, as if in a trance as Aang comes to stand in front of you, keeping you and Katara hidden behind his bulk. "Did you just—?"

"He did," Katara confirms, her voice just as soft. "Trust me, I had to double check to see if he was the one who actually threw that punch."

"Ah."

The man stumbles up after being pushed away by the couple he crashed into, touching his nose to see if it's broken or bleeding—it's the latter. At the sight of the blood, his expression transforms into one of a hideous beast as he approaches Aang with vicious intent. But the quickness of his stride slows the nearer he gets to Aang due to the difference of size between them.

"What the fuck is your problem, man!?" He shouts angrily. "You punched me in the face when I didn't do shit to you!"

Aang calmly raises a brow. "You didn't do shit to me?" he repeats. "If I recall correctly, you saw two women dancing peacefully on their own before deciding to force yourself upon them. One who happens to be my girlfriend and the one my best friend. Even if I didn't know them personally, I wouldn't have tolerated such behaviour."

"A knight in shining armour, huh?" The man jeers before leaning to the side to catch a glimpse of you. "I guess it's true that ladies love the nice guys and all that fucking shit but it's whatever. I didn't know the bitch was taken but even if I did, what would have stopped me from taking her for a nice ride? Maybe she would have preferred how a bad guy does it."

The words fall into Aang's mind like rotten wood that shatter upon impact and every shatter further feeds a feeling he tries to avoid. It took over when he gave into the urge to punch and threatens to swallow him whole due to what's been spat at his face. Words that pertain to you, the very meaning to his existence, drenched in the utmost disrespect and degradation. To make you seem like you're only a tool meant for the pleasure of some sick man who dares transform you into something baseless and nonexistent.

This must be that all consuming rage Zuko talks about, the one that used to fuel him when he was young and afraid but so mad at the world. The causes are not the same but the outcome doesn't differ as Aang moves before he can even think.

You call his name urgently, Katara's hand grabs at his shoulder and Sokka appears like a spirit summoned.

Aang doesn't know what happens.

He sinks.

And resurfaces in the sanctuary of Sokka's bedroom with his bloodied knuckles bandaged and his cheek pulsing with a promising bruise. He instantly recognises the scent of your perfume and hides his face into the plush of your lap, calmed by the soothing strokes of your fingers against his scalp.

"…What happened?" He asks tentatively, unsure of if he wants to know.

"Quite a few things," you say quietly. "Firstly, you have a mean right hook and secondly, I can see why meditation is so important for you."

Aang groans softly, closing his eyes. "I'm not an angry person, I promise," he says, needing to clarify that. "I never get into fights. I do my best to talk things out and if that doesn't work, I remove myself from the situation. But tonight…I don't know what happened."

You tap his nose. "I know you're not an angry person," you assure him. "But we all get angry sometimes and that anger can change into something brighter and scary because of how it engulfs us."

Aang sighs, turning his head so he can look at you and the smile you're giving him right now feels undeserving. "You've felt like this before too?" He asks and you nod, slipping your hand down from his head to his cheek.

"A few times, yes," you confirm, gently rubbing your thumb over the apple of his cheek. "We all have so don't feel bad, my love. Plus the guy was being a dick so if you hadn't punched him, I or Katara would have done it."

Aang smiles, nuzzling into your hand. "How is Katara, by the way?"

"Good, she's regaling your heroic tale to Toph."

"Oh, wonderful."

You laugh and it's the best sound that Aang can hear right now, along with the sound of your voice. He reaches up to cup your cheek with a touch so reverent that seems to shock you, your eyes widening a bit.

"I'd do it again," he confesses. "To protect you and keep you smiling and happy, I'd do it again."

The corners of your lips curl into an adoring smile, soft around its edges as you turn your head to kiss the inside of his palm.

"I know. I just hope you won't have to."

Aang hopes so too because that means you'd get to exist in a world unbothered and at peace.

the ocean air was crisp, carrying the distant scent of charcoal and roasting sea-prunes from a nearby vendor. aang watched appa lounging in the shallow surf, the massive sky bison letting out a low, rumbling groan of contentment as the waves lapped against his fur. it was perfect. his mind, usually a cluttered mess of treaties and air nomad restoration plans, felt completely still. he felt lighter than he had in years, as if the gravity of the world had finally decided to give him a break.

"zuko, check this out!" aang shouted, breaking his own peaceful silence. he shifted his weight, his feet carving arcs in the sand as he moved through a firebending form he’d been practicing. it was a dragon dance variation, fluid and bright. he punched the air, sending two spiraling ribbons of flame into the sky that twisted together like braids before dissipating into orange sparks.

zuko was sitting on a nearby rock, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression fixed in that familiar, stony scowl that had barely changed since they were sixteen. he didn't even blink as the fire scorched the air inches from his line of sight. "your footwork is sloppy," zuko muttered, his voice dry and bored. "you're overextending your lead hand. you’re showing off, not bending."

aang puffed out his cheeks, his brows drawing together in a mock pout. "i’m not showing off, i'm expressing my joy through the medium of combustion! plus, that spiral was perfectly symmetrical. admit it, you’re impressed."

"i'm moderately annoyed," zuko corrected, though the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed him. he adjusted his position, his eyes drifting away from aang's fire and toward the spot where you were lying out on a towel.

you were a few yards away, eyes closed, soaking up the afternoon rays. the sun turned your skin into something glowing and warm, and you looked so peaceful that aang felt a fresh wave of affection hit him. he started to turn back to his forms, wanting to try a more complex kick, but he noticed zuko’s eyes narrow. his brow furrowed, a sharp crease forming between his eyes as he stared past aang.

aang tilted his head, following zuko’s gaze. two guys had approached your towel. they were typical ember island types—broad shoulders, deep tans, and expensive-looking silk trunks. they were standing over you, blocking your sun, and you were sitting up now, blinking against the brightness. your expression was one of mild confusion, your head tilted as they spoke to you.

"hey there," one of the guys said, his voice carrying easily over the sound of the waves. he had a wide, confident smirk that looked like it had been practiced in a mirror. "don't think we've seen you around this part of the beach before. you from the city?"

you smiled, that polite, friendly smile you gave to everyone. "just visiting for the week," you told them, rubbing the back of your neck. "the water's great today, isn't it?"

the second guy leaned in, his eyes scanning you in a way that made aang’s stomach do a weird, uncomfortable flip. "the water's fine, but the view up here is way better," he drawled, his voice dripping with an obvious, oily charm. "that's a great bikini, by the way. color really suits you."

you laughed, a small, genuine sound, and thanked them. you started chatting with them about the local shops, oblivious to the way they were looming over you, their intentions written in every hungry look they exchanged. to you, they were just locals being nice. to aang, they were two guys who were very clearly trying to take something that wasn't theirs to take.

aang felt a prickle of heat beneath his skin that had nothing to do with the sun. he turned back to zuko, his eyes wide and frantic. "zuko, what are they doing? they're talking to her. they’re—they’re doing the thing, aren't they? the flirting thing?"

zuko let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping. "yes, aang. they are very obviously hitting on your girlfriend. it’s not exactly subtle."

"well, what do i do?" aang hissed, his hands flying up to grip his own head. "do i go over there? do i blow them away with a gust of air? no, that’s too aggressive. do i just... walk by and casually mention that i'm the avatar? no, that's arrogant. help me out here, you're the one who grew up in the fire nation! what’s the ember island protocol for this?"

zuko looked at him like he was a particularly dim-witted turtle-duck. "just go over there and be a person, aang. stand next to her. remind her you exist. it’s not a military maneuver."

"i can't just 'be a person'!" aang whispered-shouted, his face flushing a bright, embarrassed pink. "it’s weird! if i go over there now, i'll look like i'm hovering. i don't want to be a hovery boyfriend. but look at them! the tall one just touched her arm! he’s touching her, zuko!"

"then go stop him," zuko snapped, though he made no move to get up himself. "or don't. but quit vibrating. you’re making the sand jump."

"you're useless at advice," aang grumbled, his heart hammering against his ribs as he watched you laugh at another one of their jokes. "honestly, how did you ever get mai to date you? did you just scowl at her until she gave in?"

zuko’s eyes flashed with annoyance. "we are not talking about me. we are talking about you and your complete lack of social backbone. either go claim your territory or shut up and let me tan in peace."

aang opened his mouth to retort, his face flushing a deeper shade of scarlet that matched the trim of his air nomad robes, but he was cut off by a heavy arm dropping over his shoulders. sokka stood there, looking far too smug for his own good, with his other arm slung casually around suki’s waist. he was holding a half-eaten skewer of grilled squid, gesturing with it toward the two guys hovering over your towel.

"i hate to say it, buddy, but the fire lord is right," sokka said, taking a loud, aggressive bite of his snack. "you’re letting those guys move in on your perimeter. they’re basically planting their flag on your beachhead while you’re over here playing with matches. it’s embarrassing for the whole team, really."

zuko rolled his eyes so hard he practically groaned, leaning back against his rock. suki, however, leaned forward, giving aang a look that was less judgmental and more filled with genuine pity. she saw the way his fingers were twitching, the way his gray eyes kept darting back to you as you laughed at something the blonde guy said.

"ignore him, aang," suki said softly, reaching out to pat his arm. "you don't need to be aggressive. but you should probably go over there and just remind them who you are to her. be confident. you’ve faced much worse. two guys in silk shorts shouldn't make you sweat this much."

aang huffed, kicking at a mound of sand. "i know! i don't know why i'm so jumpy. people flirt with me all the time, and usually, i just laugh it off. it’s just... they’re so close to her. and they’re looking at them like they’re a prize or a trophy."

the feeling in his chest was a strange, hot pressure. he was used to being the center of attention, used to being the avatar, but seeing you being targeted by that specific kind of predatory charm made his air feel thin. he wasn't a mean person—the monks had taught him about detachment and peace—but those lessons felt miles away whenever someone else’s eyes stayed on you for too long. he felt less like a master of four elements and more like a nervous kid who didn't want to lose his favorite person.

finally, aang took a breath, puffing out his chest and trying to channel some of that earthbending stubbornness toph was always yelling at him about. he started walking, his feet heavy in the sand, moving with a purpose that felt forced and natural all at once. as he got closer, his enhanced hearing picked up the blonde guy’s voice.

"look, there's this bonfire tonight at the cove," the guy was saying, leaning down further so he was practically in your personal space. "lots of music, lots of drinks. you’d be the star of the night. why don't you let us pick you up around eight?"

aang didn't wait for your answer. he moved with a sudden burst of speed, his hand reaching out to grab your arm and gently, but firmly, pulling you up from the towel. you let out a little gasp of surprise, stumbling against him, and his other hand immediately dropped down, landing squarely and heavily on your ass. his fingers curled slightly, a possessive grip that sent a shock through your system.

"hey there!" aang chirped, his voice bright and airy, though his eyes were sharp as flint. he turned a beaming, thousand-watt smile toward the two guys, who both straightened up, looking startled by his sudden appearance. "sorry to interrupt! i hope my girlfriend hasn't been boring you with stories about the city."

before you could even get a word out—before you could ask why his hand was currently squeezing your backside in broad daylight—aang leaned in. his hands moved to cup your face, his thumbs pressing into your cheeks, and he pulled you into a kiss that was anything but his usual sweet, chaste affection.

it was long. it was dramatic. it was an ownership statement written in the language of breath and heat. he tasted of the salt air and the lingering warmth of the sun, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips with a hunger that made your toes curl into the sand. he tilted your head back, exposing the line of your throat to the two strangers, making sure they saw exactly how you melted into him. his heart was hammering against your chest, a frantic thud that betrayed his nerves even as he dominated the space. your brain felt like it was short-circuiting, your hands coming up to clutch at his bare chest for balance as the world narrowed down to the feeling of his mouth on yours.

when he finally broke apart, he didn't let go of you. he kept you tucked into his side, his hand returning to its firm grip on your hip, his fingers digging into your skin. you were dazed, your lips swollen and your eyes wide with confusion. "aang, what—"

"a party?" aang cut you off, looking back at the two guys who were now looking a bit less confident. "that sounds like a blast! my friends and i were just looking for something to do tonight. we can all go together, right? the more the merrier!"

he forced his smile to stay wide, but he was glaring at them over his cheeks, his eyes narrowed into slits of gray ice. the tall guy cleared his throat, shifting his weight. "uh, yeah. sure. everyone's welcome. we’ll... see you there, i guess."

"great! can't wait!" aang said, his voice dripping with a cheerfulness that felt like a threat.

the guys took the hint, mumbles of "see ya" following them as they quickly made their exit. the moment they were out of earshot, aang’s smile dropped. he didn't even look at you; he just grabbed your wrist and started dragging you toward the path that wound up toward zuko’s massive beach house.

"aang! stop! what is wrong with you?" you protested, digging your heels into the sand to try and slow him down. "and what was that back there? you were being so weird!"

"i wasn't being weird," he snapped, his voice low with a tension you’d rarely heard from him. he didn't slow down, leading you toward the house. "i was being thorough. they didn't get the hint, so i had to give it to them."

"thorough? you practically marked me!" you shouted as you reached the stairs of the house. you wrenched your arm away, standing your ground on the porch. "those guys were just being friendly, aang. they were inviting me to a party. there was no reason to go all... intense on them. it was embarrassing!"

aang spun around, his face flushed and his eyes blazing. the air around him began to swirl in sympathetic agitation, a small dust devil forming at his feet. "friendly? you think that was friendly? they were looking at you like you were a piece of meat! they were flirting with you right in front of me! and you were just smiling and laughing along like you didn't even care!"

"i didn't notice they were flirting!" you yelled back, stepping into his space. "i thought they were being nice! and even if they were, so what? don't you trust me?"

"of course i trust you!" aang cried, his voice cracking slightly with the sheer weight of his emotion. he dragged you through the front door and slammed it shut, the sound echoing through the empty hallway. "i don't trust them! i don't trust the way they looked at you. i don't trust the way they thought they could just walk up and take your attention away from me. you're mine. you’re with me."

the bickering continued as he pushed you toward the stairs. he was pacing back and forth in the hallway, his hands flying through the air as he ranted about the "disrespect" and the "audacity" of the locals. he looked so young when he was angry, his eyes wide and wild, but the power behind his voice was all man.

"you have no idea how it feels," he hissed, not meaning to pin you against the wall near the top of the staircase. he wasn't trying to be scary, he just looked desperate. he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "to have the whole world always wanting a piece of me, and then to finally have one thing that’s just for me... and then see some random guys try to touch it? no. absolutely not. i won't let them."

you tried to speak, but he silenced you by resting his forehead against yours. he was shaking, his breath coming in short, shallow bursts. his hand reached out, his fingers tangling in your hair, holding you in place not with force, but with a need so deep it felt spiritual.

"you’re the avatar’s girl," he whispered, his voice thick with a raw possessiveness that sounded more like a plea than a command. "and you better not forget it. i'm not sharing you with anyone. not today, not at some party, and not ever. i can't, i just can't."

without another word, he gripped your waist and practically hauled you toward the master bedroom, the door clicking shut behind you as he pulled you into his space. the sound of the latch was a final, heavy punctuation mark on the argument outside. aang didn't let go of you for even a second; he moved with that fluid, airbender agility that always made it feel like he was gliding, even when his footsteps were heavy with frustration.

you almost fell flat on your back as aang gently but firmly pushed you toward the center of the bed. you hit the soft mattress with a small bounce, your breath leaving you in a surprised puff. the yellow silk sheets felt cool against your sun-warmed skin, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating off of him.

"aang, stop!" you squealed, half-laughing and half-breathless as you tried to sit up. "we’re going to get sand everywhere! zuko will kill us if he has to hire someone to deep-clean the upholstery because we were too impatient."

aang didn't even pause. he hovered over you, his knees sinking into the mattress on either side of your hips, his shadow falling over you like a protective cloak. he dismissed your concern with a flick of his wrist, his eyes never leaving yours. "let him be mad," he muttered, his voice sounding deeper and raspier than usual. "i’ll earthbend it away afterwards. i'll bend every single grain of sand out of this house if i have to. but right now, i don't care about the floor."

he leaned down, capturing your mouth in a quick, bruising kiss that tasted of urgency. it was over before you could even respond, his lips trailing down your jawline with a desperate kind of hunger. he found the sensitive spot just beneath your ear, his breath hot and ragged against your skin.

you giggled, the vibration of it traveling through your chest as your arms wrapped instinctively around his neck. your fingers tangled in the short, soft hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. "you really shouldn't be so jealous, you know," you whispered, your voice softening as you felt the tension in his shoulders start to bleed into something more primal. "you’ve got me wrapped around your finger, aang. you're my favorite person. those guys don't even exist to me."

aang let out a low, muffled groan against your skin, his lips never leaving your neck. he pouted, a small, stubborn sound escaping his throat that was almost a whine. he was being kinda pathetic, clinging to you like he was afraid you’d evaporate into spirit-smoke if he loosened his grip. he began to suck at the soft skin near your collarbone, a persistent, rhythmic pressure that made your head tilt back.

"i don't like sharing," he murmured, his voice vibrating against your throat. "i have to share my time, my energy, my bending... i have to share everything with the world. i just want to keep one thing for myself. is that so wrong?"

he was being needy, his possessiveness manifesting in the way he kept his weight pressed firmly against you, pinning you to the bed. you felt a sharp, sudden sting of a hickey forming, and you let out a small gasp, your hands moving to his chest to lightly push him back.

"aang! stop, you're giving me marks," you scolded, though there was no real heat in it. "everyone will see! we’re supposed to go to that party later, remember? i can't exactly hide that with my dresses."

aang didn't pull away. instead, he became even more handsy, his touch wandering with a boldness that was usually reserved for the dark of night. one of his hands slid up, his palm cupping your tit through the thin, damp fabric of your bikini top. his thumb brushed against you, a slow movement that made your breath hitch. his other hand was already busy, his fingers hooking into the side of your bikini bottoms, tugging at the string with a focused intent.

he looked up at you then, his gray eyes dclouded with a mixture of lingering jealousy and overwhelming adoration. he watched your reaction, his chest heaving as he worked the fabric down your hips.

"good," aang said, his voice dropping into a gravelly promise that sent a shiver straight to your core. he paused for a second, his gaze sweeping over the marks he’d already left on your skin, his expression turning smug and fiercely satisfied.

he sat back on his heels for a brief moment, his hands moving to the waistband of his beach shorts. he tugged them off with a quick, decisive motion, discarding them somewhere on the sandy floor. he looked back down at you, a slow, complacent grin spreading across his face—the look of a man who had finally claimed his territory and had no intention of letting it go.

 "then everyone at the party will know you're my girl. they can look all they want, but they'll know exactly who you're coming home with."

vacancy and blankness become common themes in your mind whenever the avatar dares to be near. he leans down to your height, an easy going smile slanted onto his lips with the type of carelessness that comes with throwing caution into the wind too many times to count. “hm?” he’ll often say, as though the added height makes it harder to hear and aang is always so keen to listen, clinging onto your every word as though it’s ancient scripture. you’ve never had this problem before, not growing up glued to his side and watching him become the world’s hero — at least you think. 

perhaps your heart has always fluttered for him like petals in a breeze.

it’s just worse. now that you know each other intimately. 

aang takes up space.

the tent you’ve set up for the night feels cramped, fit for a bird who doesn’t dare fly free. what one might call a prison, another would call a dwelling for something precious. the width of his shoulders, down to the angular taper of his torso are somehow large enough to shield the bare bones of your body from any one who may happen to pass by. you feel sheltered underneath him, daunted by his mountainous shape that seems to cast a shadow over you — one where you can hide the quiver in your bottom lip, not from fear but from anticipation. a root in your lungs that intermingled with the bronchial trees that help you breathe. the root then florets and flutters, bringing a pleasant tingle south of where your mind grows misty as though a cool fog has broken over a calm body of water. 

it’s all because of how…thickset and strapping he’s become. 

your dainty fingers traverse the mountainous man like an explorer trying to reach the top, you feel the way the jus les in aang’s back ripple and interlock underneath his clothes that strain to keep him contained. he peers down at you with a kind of … alluring patience. the fact that he’s willing to wait, won’t use his strength against you, worsens the lurch of lust in your lower stomach and between your thighs which part to make room for his waistline. through the smog that clouds your sensibilities, you manage to take a peek at the avatar, let your gaze fall over the edge to admire the sights of his plush heaving chest and the sky blue arrowhead markings that he wears proudly on his sleeves — you can’t believe how beautiful he is. that he’s yours. that he puts his shoes next to your own when he steps into your home, that he’s got a favourite pillow on his side of the bed that you share, that he—!

“are you sure you want to do this?” his voice breaks through the clouds like a striking ray of sunshine ready to ghost its warmth over your skin. when you blink, aang is already looking, already analysing you the way one would read over their favourite passage in a book to make sure they hadn’t missed anything. he drinks in the details of your visage, the breathless part of your lips and the dilation to your sparkling eyes — there’s hunger within them, an appetite only aang has the ability to appease. he knows the answer to his question before he’s even asked it, unspoken as the words hang his perfect pearly white teeth. hooked there like they’re the keys to your heart.  

“aang,” your heart, that organ of yours — the one that keeps you alive and present and in the moment. it skips a beat, enough to make you notice but not enough to make you worry. it won’t beat out of your chest, you won’t die of a heartache if the way he looks at you doesn’t kill you first. something out of history, something timeless to be admired for generations to come. you wait for your heartbeat to settle under the nightly ambience outside of your tent, though you’re sure aang might have picked up on it already. “i said yes.” 

he leans away from you to shrug off a flurry of orange and yellow fabrics — revealing a battle scarred and well-carved body. there’s so many colours within aang, the sun, the sky at golden hour, the brilliant blue of the morning, the stormy grey whirling in his eyes. he could be a painting, a work of art they’d speak of for millennia to come… but he’s yours. taking up space in your mind as though he hasn’t a dime of rent to pay.

there were times where you’d hesitate to reach out and touch the avatar, to smooth over the sketching of his scars in the middle of his chest. now you’re sure, certain, pressing your fingers into it because it has to mean something. you have to affect him as much as he affects you. 

“aang.” you repeat all the letters of his name, seriousness stirred between them — blending like honey in milk.

an infallible, perhaps teetering on the edge of omniscient, beam breaks out on the smooth canvas of the avatar’s face. no longer youthful like you remember, but older, handsomely aged like a brew perfected over time. “if you’re positive.” he says, cheerful — so maybe a little childlike, tongue darting out to playfully nip your fingers that now cup his chin. wagging his clean shaven head from side to side.

so handsome, there’s barely enough room in your head to think anything else in the world could be this pretty.

you almost forget that you’re bare. naked as the day you were born. you shudder when aang’s bare hand presses firm against your sternum — warm because, of course, he’s the avatar who can bend the elements at his skilled will. it’s heated a touch, but still goosebumps rise on your skin in a tidal wave, and your nipples harden into whipped peaks. aang ignores them in search of something more, not that he doesn’t want to take his time with you. you’re just undeniable, you’ve been waiting all day for more than intimately placed touches and soft lips against your forehead. there’s more he intends to give to you. 

the avatar finds your slick entrance with the kind of practised ease only a man in love would possess. there’s no need for guidance when he can effortlessly find the points and spots that have you dulcetly drawling his name as though it’s one of your prized possessions. a best kept secret. a hidden treasure. two digits, thick and calloused, slide in with little to no resistance and curl almost instantly in search for your sweet spot — pressing down hard on the gooey nub nestled further along your walls. for the whole duration, aang waits for your silent please, consent for more, with baited breath. his lungs full of enough anticipatory air to give birth to a thunderstorm.

that’s all the sign he needs to navigate further south, follow the pulse of your blood flow to the aching buzz hardening in your clit. cheekily, the avatar tacks the pad of his thumb to the pleasure button, brushing it from side to side, round and round in tight circles — launching you into the stratosphere with what feels like a gust of blistering hot wind. meanwhile, his deft fingers between pudgy thighs get to work — the pace aang begins with reflects exactly who he is, unyielding and unpredictable. the intensity doesn’t build slow, it’s rapid akin to that of a dangerous river sectional. though his movements are not rushed, the flex of his wrist aids the two digits scissoring you open for the stretch that’s yet to come.

your entrance grows sappy and filthy around what manages to fit inside — filling you and dragging along your molten ichorous walls, so hot you’d put a fire bender to shame. the little squeaks  that escape you, airy and feather light layer messily over lewd squelching sounds echoing from between your shaky legs that tremble as though the earth has decided to split in two. grey eyes start to glimmer, mimicking the moonshine through nightly cloud cover, and a wry grin splinters on the avatar’s soft lips — a result of your precious cunt, making a spectacle around aang’s fingers. rippling and drooling down arrow shaped tattoos that twist around the length of his muscled arm and wrist. 

aang maps you out, travelling your gooey walls as though he’s trying to rediscover a place he once called home. familiar. welcoming. like discovering a new island, he pinions against pleasure spots lining your walls that you’d never be able to reach without him . although your tightness presents as resistance, the manner in which you paw at his wrist in a quiet plea for more and anything further to placate the twist in your gut, tells aang that you want this. need this. soaring high, aang flies you to new heights of ecstasy — sets your body adrift, floating above cloud nine.

he’s mesmerised, watching his favourite view, the squeeze of your cunt around him to prevent escape. each time his digits pump in and out of you, you cutely clench at the knuckle, as if to stop him from going too far. under the candle light, the avatar can’t help but flux into the giddy feeling like a slow drip of pale candle wax pooling at the base of its holder. simply knowing that he is the one making your pussy gush, translucent essence sliding down the length of your swollen slit and into the rustling fabrics below, licks his ego. stokes it like coals on a flame. 

“so wet here, so soft.” aang makes a sort of chuffing noise against your hairline, swooping down to level flat against the flooring of your tent. chest to chest, hearts beating in sync as though they’re drums following a similar tune. though aang’s voice dips low, the baritone register winding ropes within your lower stomach,  his intonation is cheery — bright like the sun at noon. “pretty baby, just look at you chasin’ it.” 

your hips twitch upwards at the avid taunting, called upon by his convincing siren’s song. you wonder if he’s bending your body in the same way he does with the four elements because you arch your back into the centre of him, magnetised by the lull of his heart beating for you. 

“someone’s impatient, easy baby.” neither mean nor gentle, aang divulges objective fact — sweat settling into the smile lines that bracket his subtle smirk. his teasing is as relentless as the press of his digits against the one special spot that clears your mind completely. he gives, gifting you another slab of arcadia until it stacks high to come tumbling down because aang has always been so, so kind. your quivering hole stretches wide over the broad stroke of his fingers, clear and sticky essence a glimmering glaze over them, wetter and wetter by the second beside you can’t stop bucking against their force. 

you point him in the right direction as he navigates your ecstasy, helping him erratically assault your pussy even though the avatar is more than capable of crumbling you like precious stone. but you burn everywhere, in your pelvis and your muscles pulled tight with the tension of holding back — flames burn at the oxygen nurturing your lungs and if aang weren’t the center star that boils to a billion degrees, the heat in your face would be enough to rival him. 

a dopey, delirious smile creates a habitat amongst your sweat-slicked features — carved against them like ancient scripture on stone only a man such as aang has the skill to decipher. “been waiting all day...” waiting for more than just hands under clothes. more than just yearning gazes swapped between the motions of your friends. “please, please, please. need you more…” the plea tastes like desperation against the tip of your tongue, the kind you only feel when your whole world is about to cave in, the sort that brings a tear to your eyes with the same sharp rapidness of a tidal boar. 

aang grounds you, soothes you, becomes the very force that brings you back to land out of fear the waters may wash you away. he takes up that space around your heart that knocks the beat down to a level that’s sustainable. with sweltering kisses marked against your hairline, chaste balmy from his own layer of perspiration, appearing almost like a second skin.  in response, a heatwave crashes through your body like a desert breeze — particles of unadulterated lust and hunger catching on the high points of your body. 

the back of the avatar’s head is clammy where you reach to it for leverage, crossing your arms at the back of his head. you bring the hardline of aang’s body against you, his stomach meeting yours with a wet slap because so much arousal has pooled there. his cock, leaky, hard and monstrous, rocks against soft flesh — jumping between you both like a glaring warning sign because he is just so big. 

“i don’t want to hurt you, might not be ready yet.” he says with the same restraint as a child being told to wait until after dinner for a sweet treat. aang is good, he regards you gently as though you’re something that might fracture with too much pressure — yet he knows what you can take, how much you can endure for the sake of losing yourself to him for a little while. just like his body on top of yours, aang’s large palm slots perfectly against your pussy — the seat of his palm grinding against your puffy clit alongside the rhythm of his thrusting fingers. nirvana begins to flash behind your eyes, blurting your vision as you blink up at him meekly. 

you like the burn. the stretch. the pain that comes with taking aang and he reads it in your darkening eyes, open like a book.

“it won’t hurt,” you argue back, though your words carry no weight. they taper into a cottony sigh, whisked away from the night’s breeze — icy against your temperate skin. sweat drops from his shoulders to your chest, glueing him to you. he’s a solid mass on top of you, contrary to the silky webbing of your mound, ruined beneath his fingers that work you unrelentingly. pleasure breaks through you like the sun rising above the horizon, highlighting the glow of your body as an orgasm nears. “please don’t make me wait, aang…”

aang chuckles, the weight of it carried by whirling winds and his fingers leave you for just a moment, an empty hole waiting to be filled – trembling without him. seamlessly, his delicate caress glides over your throbbing mound, growing cold and slick as time passes by. strings of clear, tarry elixir pruriently prevents his touch from straying too far from where you need him most. “you’re so pretty when you say please.” he exhales through his nose in a serene gust, spreading his fingers to watch your arousal web amidst them.

“aang–!”

“how about i make you cum?” he volunteers, and you despite the steamroll of fog starting to cloud your mind, you fail to miss the playful lilt that clings to his every word. it’s more of a statement than a suggestion, with aang riding the clouds between your thoughts, there’s no room to argue either. he acts first, on the same kind of brave impulse you’ve seen from him in battle many times before, delivering a few sappy love taps to your unattended sex. toying with you through a guise of a half-lidded smile that lures you into feeling safe.

he discerns your swollen clit from equally swollen folds once more, a muddlement of sin to be solved by one of the most powerful beings on earth, and draws his name across the hood of the sensitive little nub — drawing back the extra skin just to press your own slick into it. your back peels away from the tent’s flooring from where sweat had gathered to cleave the skin to it, trembling and twitching as you bow into aang, invade his space, crawl into it for sanctuary. though, in this safety net – you find yourself pincered, caught between his lips that descend upon yours and the lengthy, agile pointers that act with the alacrity of the sky’s breath. aang licks into your mouth briskier than your brain can keep up, stealing every soft breath and shackly snuffle that lays underneath your tongue. he tastes you like he’s losing a memory he wants to keep, tracking your flavour in your breezy breath before you have the sense to plead for more.

in due time, he’ll give it to you.

he’ll instimulate the careful crease between your brows and the petulant little pout that drags down the corners of your mouth even as you meet his with the same balance of the elements. harmonious and restorative all at once. he kisses you like it’ll heal him, the dulling phantom ache in his scars, the mass of loss in his past and the burdens of the future. you take it all to your lungs, inhale it into the space within your vital organs because pain like his should never be borne alone.

even still, the avatar hisses with a mix of awed ail when your nails break carmine crescent moons against the blue sails of his arrowhead tattoos. you grasp at his sinewy forearms for stability, something grounding like a plant taking root in new soils, and clench around dexterous digits that once more reclaim the claggy path of your ruined insides. whilst you howl like a storm’s winds and chase the seed of pleasure flourishing within your bubbling tummy – aang has a vision, like one of those who have walked the same path before him, casting imagery of hurricanes pulled from skies and storm clouds torn to little tufts in the name of you. 

because he loves you. 

your struggling, shuddering thighs and aerated gasps. the way you hold onto him like a lifeline as your orgasm brings you right to the edge of balance – the pendulum threatening to knock you off. aang’s fingers twist and brush amongst your sensitivity and it’s not long before all the pleasure that had been building crumbles under the tidal wave of arousal that crashes through you. “let go for me, baby,” he whispers earnestly against your cupid’s bow, hoping that it coaxes you along and unties the tightness lingering there. “there you go, good girl…” 

his words undo you like your binding holding you together never existed, weakened by time and attention. the care aang takes to bring you to heaven pushes you into release, one that has your juices splashing down the length of aang’s burly arms as though he’s squeezed a ripened fruit. all at once, you seize beneath him and gush into his palm seat, quaking through aftershocks where your cunt is the epicentre. he finds your mouth, fallen open in a whiney mewl, and wheedles you into a soothing wet kiss where tongue’s tangle and breathing draws ragged like the sharp edge of an earth-bended mountain.

once you’re calm, reduced to the gentle rock of a boat on the very water aang controls, your needy screams retreat too. everything melting  into soft pants and a dreamy gaze through your droopy eyelids. 

your appetite remains unruly, however.

“wan’ more.” you mumble in a quiet wisp – demanding, nearing playful. a challenge laying in the candle light like a trap for the avatar, plans barely concealed by the mirth swirling in your clearing, glassy eyes.

in their reflection, aang sees himself. body worn but spirit never tired of the games you play with one another. he heedily lowers you back to the flooring of the tent, arranges you neatly amongst fur pelts and blankets that soften like his leer on you.a picturesque view, skin shining like the surface of silk, thighs sticky with your body’s syrup, bare chest heaving like you’ve got oxygen to spare. you’re so beautiful it's easy to give into you. if there were any weakness the avatar were to possess, it would be you.

silence, bearable and conservant, is born between your bodies. it steals space, not unkindly, because you know aang’s quiet  gives way to his next actions, the plan he’ll take to bring you to bliss once more. his large palms, coarse from weathering the elements, span down your being again – through the valley of your breasts, down your sternum and into the soft fleshiness of your tummy.

“you’re sure?” he laughs, holding breath under his tongue. even as he questions you, aang shuffles onto his haunches to shred the last of his dignity – the fabric of his pants whirring across the tent.

your vision stoops low, following the arrows that point to the one thing you’ve been craving all evening. to say the avatar is … gifted… would be an under estimation – his shaft is ample in both size and weight, dripping from the dull tip and seedy slit, slightly curved with balls that are pink and plump. ripe with seed. you feel your stomach twitch underneath his touch and he does too – as though its preparing to take his size fully. grey eyes darken with a storm of lust once you find aang’s face again – merriment dawning on his features.

“you’ve asked me that a million times already,” you huff, cadence carrying petulance. “you don’t think i can handle you, avatar?’

he shakes his head. “i know what you can handle, i pay attention to your limits.” he says it like he knows something you don’t, a trick up his metaphorical sleeve to be unveiled the further this game advances. your move. it reads.

crawling over you once more, broad upper body blocking out the world and a slender waist shuffles between your thighs. aang is at your neck this time, gently nipping at your neck to leave his mark in the same manner that you’ve left one on his heart. saliva soothes the crease of his teeth indented into your skin, warm and distracting while the hands once at your stomach press into the lissome fat at your hips – manhandling you in the position he desires most. 

there’s no space between you know, not even a millimetre, ardent flesh bonding and soon to become one. the beat of your heart links like the next note of a song, nipples brushing sensitively as they harden under the night air. aang throws your legs over his wide-set shoulders, spreading you open and parting the webs of slick glueing together your swollen folds. a warm, gooey pressure burns against your entrance, his hips jutting forward to run his cock through the length of your slit – the sensation is not unwelcome, the slight sting of pain feels just like returning home after a long journey. where everything aches and nothing seems to settle.

his tip dully breaks through the translucent netting gathering at your entrance, gradually filling you inch by inch until you physically feel swole just from the tip. you flutter around him weakly, once for every throb of his girth against your nociceptive ridges.

only half of what he has makes it in, and even then, you experience the kind of fullness that comes with that of a full moon. hard to ignore, a sight to behold. you lift your lower half, circling your hips down to swallow what he offers, because too much is never enough and you have always been greedy when it comes to aang.

he’s a hero to the world, barely something you get to keep sacred and to yourself.

it’s hard to miss, impossible not to notice and aang bucks forward ever so slightly, rewarding you with more stretch, more burn, more of his cock. you suction around the rippling pang and clasp the back of his damp neck while your body accommodates for his size. “aang…m-more!’ your voice is raw, throat bobbing from the delighted tears you’ve been holding back and the avatar’s strong hands lift your lips higher, hoping it’ll alleviate the ache for more.

“baby, you’re being so greedy tonight, what’s with that?” the question slips into the sudden torrid atmosphere, though it’s amused – sitting behind a smile you can’t see ( it blurs as you sniffle ), aang groans. fractured, lust living between the cracks. “just take this much for now,” he doesn’t bottom out, only thrusts shallowly, letting the sweltersome head of his cock nudge your ribbed walls. “can’t give you all of my cock… have to be somewhere you can get help if it goes wrong,” 

that should be enough to destroy you.

aang fucks you half way down his length all whilst caging you in, his sweet mouse caught in a trap, pushing and pulling from your adorably selfish hole – beginning a sensual, swing to his own hips. you feel the wiry muscle of his thighs crook against your ass as the avatar practically puts you through the bedding. in your mind, aang makes up the middle of the universe, yet to him, your pleasure becomes the heart of his – he uses the strength bursting from his biceps to jerk you back and forth on what plugs you full. 

he is not rough, but focused, relishing in the juices you baste him in – smearing your juices along his hard stomach, where it pools against his tattoos and his belly button. the force he uses to roll into you lulls a symphony of whiney bleats from between your wet and kiss swollen lips, a sweet song that mingles with the soft slap of skin on skin filling your tent.

your body threatens to break once more, your arms like a loose neck tie around his thick throat and your shaky  hands finding purchase on his clean shaken head. all you can do is sink into him, let him overrule your body, taking it over— mind, body and soul. in return, he frees a hand to angles in your roots like the winds rushing through your hair, hugging you close so that you never fade away. even then he kisses you as though the world has taken you from him, too much all at once, overwhelming you with the curve of his tongue breaching realms beyond your pearly white teeth. aang tastes you, and tastes you, lips balmy  moving against yours with such vigor it nearly distracts you from the intensity of his thrusts.

where aang usually carries the scent of freshly cut grass and freedom – the fragrance twists into something more profane, the husk from your cunt and the sweat evaporating on your skin from how frequently it all meets. the atmosphere tingles with his devotion to you. 

your calves start to tingle where they violently shake on aang’s shoulders, every part of you spasms even down to your cunt that wraps around him like a vice. you feel ravaged, fractured, pathetically split open on his thickness even though it’s still only half. 

it doesn’t matter how you thrash and whine in a desperate effort to swallow another inch, aang remains sturdy above you. immovable. where the blankets and pelts begin to slip from the motion of your bodies working together, the avatar allows his mouth to cover you – silken spit drying against your breasts that bounce from passionate motion. he acts with the motion of a starved man who cannot go a second without another meal, tongue circling your areolas at a speed that matches the feverish punch of his weighty girth against your g-spot.

you cannot imagine a world without aang in it, without aang’s presence filling every corner like the sunrise in an empty room. kisses golden and glowing. the way he looks down at you like you’re worth a war and regards you with cool toned eyes that feel free of burden when you’re in view – draws you closer to a peak. there are so many feelings in aang’s eyes, slithering between your bodies, he fills you with more with each rut of his hips into yours, a creamy and lewd ring frothing around what doesn’t fit inside. 

“y-you’re so good,” you babble him earnestly, losing breath to his intensity, pussy pulsating over the prominent veins and ridges twirling around aang’s chubby girth. his thrusts pull and push at your spongy insides – bumping against pleasure spots you didn’t even know you had. “c-can you please just…give me more…?”

“you’re so needy, baby,” aang circles an arm around your waist and leans back on his haunches. his knees resting pelts whilst he manoeuvres himself  in a kneeling position. this time, he is able to bottom out fully, unexpectedly. he hits the hilt with a low, rumbling sound against the crown of your head – as if finally being sheathed inside of you has pulled him to pieces before you.“how’s this? d-deeper? fuller?”

in this new position, you’re sure you’ve crossed over to the spirit world. the new pressure is blinding, the assault on your g-spot is constant and mimics the ever-turning of the planet you live on. if you could, you’d cry out for the aid of a spirit but instead, through the lasciviousness lodged in your throat, his name is born like a prayer on your lips. “a-aang!”

“yeah, i know,” he mutters, overcome with emotion, eyes on you everywhere. the angelic contortions of your face, the drip of nectar from your hypersensitive cunt to his balls. everywhere.  “gods i know, you’re practically choking me out down there. that’s nice… so nice.”

your eyes become misty and aang’s voice becomes a murky strain, breaths of exertion coasting over your heated face as he strikes up an almost bullying, breezy pace to his slender hips as they pummel into your sex. now, he is able to hit deep — twist and turn your gummy organs up and drag over the sensitive ridges you can’t reach normally.

clawing at aang’s neck, you use the last of your vigour to grind against him. futile but sweet. your second release borders on pain since you’re spread over him, dull head of his cock near kissing the entrance to your womb. you asked for this, now you’re slumped and weak in his lap. a pathetic ragdoll that’s loved more than it’s toyed with. neither of you mind the fade in your endurance, after all the support and care you’ve given to aang through his hardest moments – he adores being able to return the favour like this. watch himself bulge in your tummy whilst your mind slips away from you. watch the faint part of your lips as you cry his praises and flit of your lashes whilst you attempt to hold his gaze.

“you like it better like this, i know.” aang coos, tone not too far off from wonder. lilt a little more than condescending. without disparaging his strength, he hauls you back and forth on his soiled shaft, a crude mix of precum and the sweet nectar your cunt drools helping him glide through your tightness.   “when i…. move you up and down up and down… there we go,” for the millionth time that night, he laughs. pure and bright, sparking your nerve endings. that’s when you gush, when the chord of tension snaps and you begin to violently convulse with your second orgasm.

he leans an arm past your back to steady himself with balls of air at his finger tips, other hand jumping up to span into the curve of your spine whilst you keen into him. wailing high like whistling winds. “you’re so cute when you’re cumming.” he purrs, boyishly devoted to your pleasure  just as you reach the summit on the mountain, your peak, squirting all the way down aang’s thickness. 

the world around you blurs as though water has mixed with wet paint used to capture darling memories,. a scream rips through you and burns at the fraying edges of your voice. clear streams of arousal shoot from your sluice sex and dampen the pelts, soak aang to the bone – nearly forcing his drowning dick out of you.

his rhythm barely wavers; not even when he is chasing both of your releases, running with the wind as his tip nudges against your pleasure spot over and over. moans rising in octave with every step he takes closer to orgasm.

for a moment, you think, your presence fills aang with as much light and life as he does with you. 

a thumb winds down to your clit with a brand new purpose, noting the aftershocks running through you that bring him his own sense of euphoria. he’s careful with you now, gently jerking you in his lap while his thoughts turn blank, mind crowded with thoughts of only you.  “so small… compared to me. it’s adorable, god, you really are —!” when aang cums, his forehead falls to yours, grey eyes brimming with a glowing blue that extends to the tattoos painted permanently into his body. he glows bright, a beacon of love in the night. then he hiccups, airy and low, succumbing to your shuddering warmth – ecstasy twisting through him like a tornado that’s grown over time. “perfect.”

opaque white shoots into you in viscous ropes, clinging to your wet walls – gathering in a frothy ring at your entrance. none of it is wasted, the avatar insistent on plugging you full. he finds sanctuary in the curve of your neck, breathy curses tattooed into your skin which tickle pleasantly. aang keeps you in his arms before exhaustion settles into your bones and his body threatens to cop out completely—  he just about manages to land on his side before his weight crushes you.

a pregnant silence takes up space in the tenant. tender as your weary eyes meet and heart rates slow to a standstill. aang’s face creases with adoring attachment, triumphant and adoring and childish. you don’t need words to know that he loves you, that he would give up anything to stay right here with you.

i love you.

it comes easy, reciprocating – you find his fingers in your heap of lips and brush a kiss against them so briskly one might mistake your light affection for a breeze.

i love you always.

aang takes up space, in your room next to your things. in your mind where all your best memories lie. and most importantly, in your heart.

end ! likes are appreciated, but just liking doesn’t do much on tumblr! to support and motivate myself and other writers, reply, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!! — asks are open to thirsts and thoughts! join my taglist ! love you!