“Spit in my mouth baby, bring me closer when we fucking”
a/n zuko fic next 😉 ...ALSO be patient its a TEENY TINY BIT long...okeh bebehs? 🥺papa got yall just breathe when he puts it in...LMFAO
i cant think of any starting plots yall send help
-
The argument had been building for days.
Not over anything real—not really. Just the small things. The way he looked at the air nomad girl a second too long. "You're being unreasonable," Aang said. His voice was calm. Too calm. That serenity that made you want to scream.
"I'm being unreasonable? You've been gone for three weeks, Aang. Three weeks. And you come back and the first thing you do is—"
"Is what? Breathe? Exist?"
"Flirt!"
He blinked. Those gray eyes—ancient and young all at once—narrowed slightly. "I wasn't flirting. I was being polite."
"You were being charming. There's a difference."
"You're jealous."
"I'm not—" You stopped. Pressed your hands to your face. "Yes. Okay? Yes, I'm jealous. I'm jealous and I'm angry and I'm tired of feeling like I'm the only one who—"
You didn't finish. Couldn't. The words stuck in your throat like thorns.
Aang stood. He was taller now than when you'd first met him—broader, too. The years had carved him into something harder, sharper. The boy with the arrow on his head had become a man. And that man was walking toward you with an expression you couldn't read.
"Who says you're the only one?" he asked quietly.
You looked up at him. Your breath caught.
"What?"
His hand came up. His fingers brushed your cheek. The touch was light—almost hesitant—but his eyes were dark.
"You think I don't feel it?" he said. "You think I don't lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling, thinking about you?"
"You've never said—"
"I'm saying it now."
He kissed you.
Not gentle. Not tentative. His mouth crashed against yours, hot and demanding, and his hands fisted in your hair. You gasped against his lips, and he swallowed the sound, pulling you closer, pressing your body to his.
You should have pulled away. You were still angry. Still hurt. Still tangled in the sharp edges of the fight you'd been having.
But his tongue slid against yours, and your knees went weak, and your hands fisted in his robes.
"Aang—"
"Shut up."
He pulled back just enough to look at you. His gray eyes were dark, his chest heaving, his lips swollen from your kiss.
"We're not done fighting," you managed.
"Mhm"
"You can't just kiss me and expect—"
"I'm not expecting anything." His hand slid down your back, over the curve of your spine, settling on the swell of your rear. He squeezed. Hard. "I'm taking."
You should have been offended. You should have pushed him away.
Instead, you moaned.
"Mngh…"
His mouth curved. Not quite a smile. Something meaner. Something hungrier.
"That's what I thought."
Two minutes later, you were under him.
He'd lifted you like you weighed nothing—because to him, you probably did—and carried you to the bed. Your back hit the mattress. Your legs parted. His body settled between them, heavy and warm and impossibly solid.
He'd pulled your tunic off somewhere between the door and the bed. Your breasts spilled free—full and round, soft in his hands. He cupped them both, thumbs brushing over your nipples, and you arched into his touch.
"Look at you," he murmured. "So pretty. So desperate."
"Ngh… Aang…"
"Been waiting for this, haven't you?" His head lowered. His mouth closed around one nipple, and he sucked—hard—and you cried out. "Been so needy while I was gone. Touch yourself, didn't you?"
Your face burned. "I—"
"Didn't you."
"Yes."
He bit down. Gently. Just enough to make you gasp.
"Good girl."
He moved to the other breast. His tongue circled your nipple, then flicked, then sucked. His hand kneaded the soft flesh he'd abandoned, fingers pressing deep, leaving marks.
You were wet. So wet. You could feel it pooling between your thighs, soaking through your pants, and he hadn't even touched you there yet.
"Aang—please—"
"Please what."
"Please touch me—"
"I am touching you."
"Please—"
He pulled back. Looked down at you. His gray eyes were dark, almost black, and his tattoos seemed to glow faintly in the dim light.
"Roll over."
You did. Hands and knees. Your rear lifted, presented, and you heard him groan behind you.
"Spirits, you're perfect."
His hands found your hips. His fingers pressed into the soft flesh, and he pulled you back against him. You felt him through his robes—hard, thick, pressing against you.
"Take these off," he said, tugging at your pants. "Now."
You fumbled with the ties, your fingers shaking. He helped—impatient, rough—and then your pants were gone, and you were bare beneath him, and his hand was sliding between your legs.
"So wet," he murmured. "All this for me?"
"Mngh… yes—"
"You're lying. This is from the fight. You get off on fighting with me, don't you?"
"N-no—"
He pushed two fingers inside you. Curled them. You cried out, your arms buckling, your forehead pressing to the mattress.
"Yes," he said. "You do. You like it when I'm mean. When I put you in your place."
"Ngh… ah…"
"Don't you."
"Yes—"
He pulled his fingers out. You heard him undo his robes. Heard the fabric rustle. Felt the bed shift as he moved behind you.
"Look at you," he said. "On your hands and knees. Arching for me like a good little thing."
He pressed against your entrance. Just the head. Just enough to make you whimper.
"Please—"
"Please what."
"Please put it in—"
"Beg."
You sobbed. "Please, Aang, please, I need you inside me, please—"
He pushed in.
You screamed.
He was big. So big. Thicker than you remembered, longer, stretching you open until you couldn't breathe. Your nails clawed at the sheets. Your back arched deeper.
"Ah—nnm—too big—"
"You've taken it before."
"Not—ngh—not like this—"
"You've taken it before," he repeated. His voice was steady, almost conversational, even as he buried himself to the hilt. "You can take it again."
He pulled out. Slammed back in.
"Mngh—!"
"You can take it," he said again. "Good girls take what they're given."
"I'm trying—"
"Try harder."
He set a pace. Hard. Deep. Relentless. His hips slapped against your rear, and the sound filled the room—wet and obscene. Your moans were pathetic, high and broken, punctuated by every thrust.
"Ngh… ah… mmph…"
"That's it," he said. "That's my good girl. Taking all of me."
His hand came around your hip. His fingers found your clit—circling, pressing, pushing you toward the edge.
"You're close," he said. "I can feel you squeezing me."
"Please—"
"Please what."
"Please let me come—"
"Not yet."
You sobbed. Your body was shaking, trembling, every nerve on fire. He was so deep—deeper than anyone had ever been—and his fingers kept working your clit, and his voice kept washing over you, dark and sweet and cruel.
"You wanted to fight with me," he said. "You wanted to scream at me. Tell me I don't care. Tell me I don't love you."
"I'm sorry—"
"You're not sorry. You're exactly where you want to be."
He slammed into you harder. Your arms gave out. Your chest hit the mattress, your breasts pressed flat, your rear still lifted.
"Arch for me," he said. "Show me how pretty you look when you're being fucked."
You arched. Deeper. Your spine curved, your rear lifted higher, and he groaned.
"Spirits. Look at you."
His hand slid up your back. Pressed between your shoulder blades, holding you down. His other hand gripped your hip, fingers bruising.
"I'm going to fill you up," he said. "Going to put my babies in you. Going to watch you grow round with them."
"Ngh—Aang—"
"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Being full of me. Walking around with my seed inside you."
"Ah—yes—"
"Say it."
"I want—ah—I want your babies—"
"Say it again."
"I want your babies—please—fill me up—"
He groaned. His hips stuttered. His rhythm broke—just for a moment—and then he was slamming into you again, harder, faster, chasing something.
"You're going to be so pretty," he said. "So round. Everyone will know you're mine."
"I'm yours—"
"Say it."
"I'm yours, Aang—only yours—"
He came.
His body tensed. His fingers dug into your hips. His head fell back, and his tattoos flared—bright blue, blazing, lighting up the room like lightning. He groaned—loud, raw, almost pained—and you felt him spill inside you. Hot. Thick. Filling you the way he'd promised.
You came too. Your body convulsed, clenched, pulled him deeper. Your moans were broken, pathetic, lost in the sheets.
"Aang—Aang—Aang—"
He collapsed over you. His chest pressed to your back. His face buried in your neck. His breath was hot on your skin, and his heart pounded against your spine.
You lay there. Shaking. Sobbing. Full of him.
He pulled out slowly. You whimpered at the loss. He rolled you over, gathered you against his chest, pulled the blanket over your trembling body.
----------------------
BONUS FIC!
The day had been a slow burn.
You'd started it innocently enough—brushing against him in the hallway, your hip bumping his, your hand lingering on his arm a moment too long. Aang had looked at you, curious, but you'd just smiled and walked away.
Then came breakfast. You'd sat across from him, legs crossed, the fabric of your tunic riding high on your thighs. You'd stretched—slow, deliberate—reaching for the teapot, letting the fabric pull tight across your chest. His eyes had dropped. Just for a second. But you'd seen it.
By mid-morning, you were relentless.
You'd found him in the library, reading scrolls, and you'd perched on the edge of his desk. Leaned forward. Let your hair fall across your shoulder. Asked him questions about airbending philosophy in a voice so soft and sweet it made his jaw tighten.
"Aang," you'd said, "what's the most important thing you've learned from the monks?"
He'd looked up at you. His gray eyes were patient, but there was something underneath them now. Something darker.
"Detachment," he'd said.
"Detachment?"
"Letting go of desire." His gaze dropped to your lips. Held. "It's not easy."
You'd smiled. Hopped off the desk. "Good thing I'm not a monk."
You'd walked away, hips swaying, and you'd felt his eyes on you the whole way.
At lunch, you'd fed him fruit.
A piece of mango, held between your fingers, pressed to his lips. He'd opened his mouth—slow, almost reluctant—and let you slide it onto his tongue. His lips had closed around your fingertips. Just for a second. Just enough to make your breath catch.
"Sweet," he'd said.
"The mango?"
"Everything."
You'd pulled your hand back. Smiled. Walked away.
In the afternoon, you'd bathed.
You'd left the door open—just a crack—and you'd hummed while you washed, letting the sound drift through the temple. You'd taken your time. Soaped every inch of your skin. Let the water run over your breasts, down your stomach, between your thighs.
When you'd come out, wrapped in a thin robe, he'd been standing in the hallway.
His arms were crossed. His jaw was tight. His eyes were dark.
"You're doing this on purpose," he'd said.
"Doing what?"
"Torturing me."
You'd blinked. Innocent. Wide-eyed. "I don't know what you mean."
"You know exactly what you mean."
You'd stepped closer. Your chest almost brushed his. Your hand had reached up, touched his cheek.
"I have no idea," you'd whispered, "what you're talking about."
And you'd walked away.
Now it's evening.
The sun has set. The room is dark except for the glow of a single candle. The bed is soft beneath you, the sheets tangled around your limbs, and Aang is on top of you.
He's been on top of you for hours.
Or maybe it's been minutes. You can't tell anymore. Time has lost all meaning. There's only him—his weight, his hands, his cock buried inside you, filling you, stretching you, fucking you so deep you can feel him in your throat.
"Look at you," he says.
His voice is soft. Cooing. Sweet in a way that makes your stomach clench.
"Look at you now. After all that teasing."
You try to answer. A moan comes out instead.
"Mmph—"
"That's right." His hips roll. Slow. Deep. "Can't even talk anymore, can you?"
You shake your head. Tears cling to your lashes.
"Poor thing." His hand cups your face. His thumb brushes your cheek. Gentle. Mocking. "You were so confident this morning. So in control."
"Ngh—"
"Grinding on me in the hallway. Feeding me fruit. Leaving the door open while you bathed." He clicks his tongue. "You wanted my attention. Now you have it."
He thrusts deeper. Your back arches. Your mouth falls open.
"Ah—Aang—"
"Shh." His thumb presses to your lower lip. Pushes inside. "No talking. Just feel."
You suck on his thumb. Your tongue swirls around it. His eyes darken.
"Good girl."
He fucks you harder. His hips snap against yours, and the sound fills the room—wet and obscene. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, full and soft, and he watches them. Watches the way they move. Watches the way your nipples pebble in the cool air.
"So pretty," he murmurs. "These pretty tits. Bouncing for me."
"Ah—ngh—"
"You like when I watch, don't you? Like when I stare at your body while I fuck you."
You nod. Desperate. Needy.
"Say it."
"I like—ah—I like when you watch—"
"Louder."
"I like when you watch—"
He slams into you. Your vision goes white.
"Good girl."
His hand slides from your face. Down your body. Over your stomach, your hip, your thigh. He grips your leg, pushes it up, opens you wider.
"Look at you," he says. "So pretty. So desperate. All for me."
"All for you—"
"That's right." He leans down. His mouth hovers over yours. "All for me."
He kisses you.
It's not gentle. It's messy—sloppy, wet, his tongue sliding against yours, his teeth grazing your lower lip. You moan into his mouth, and he swallows the sound.
When he pulls back, a string of saliva connects your lips.
He looks at it. Smiles.
"Open," he says.
You open your mouth.
He lets his drool fall from his lips. Into your mouth. Warm. Wet. Intimate in a way that makes your head spin.
"Swallow."
You swallow.
His hand grips your jaw. His fingers press into your cheeks. His thumb brushes your lower lip.
"Good girl," he says again. "So good for me."
You whimper. Clench around him.
"So needy," he coos. "So desperate for my cock."
"Please—"
"Please what."
"Please don't stop—"
"I won't." He thrusts. Slow. Deep. "I'm not going to stop until you can't remember your own name."
You believe him.
His pace quickens. His hips slam against yours, and the bed rattles, and your moans fill the room—loud and lewd and completely uninhibited.
"Aang—Aang—Aang—"
"That's it. Say my name. Let everyone hear who's fucking you."
"Ah—ngh—"
"You're close. I can feel you squeezing me."
"I'm close—"
"Not yet."
He slows. Pulls almost all the way out. You sob.
"Aang—please—"
"Please what."
"Please let me come—"
"Beg."
"I'm begging—"
"Beg like you mean it."
You look up at him. Your eyes are wet. Your lips are swollen. Your chest is heaving.
"Please, Aang. Please let me come. I need it. I need you. Please—"
He pushes back in.
You scream.
"Good girl."
He fucks you harder. Faster. His hand finds your clit, circling, pressing, pushing you toward the edge.
"Look at me," he says.
You look.
His gray eyes are dark. His face is flushed. His lips are parted.
"I love you," he says.
"I love you—ah—I love you—"
"Come for me."
You come.
Your body convulses. Your back arches. Your inner walls clamp down on him, squeezing, pulsing. Your mouth opens in a silent scream. Your eyes roll back.
He watches you. Drinks in every expression, every sound, every tremor.
"Beautiful," he murmurs. "So beautiful."
He fucks you through it. Through the spasms and the cries and the way your body clenches around him like it's trying to keep him inside you forever.
"I'm close," he says. "I'm going to fill you up."
"Yes—"
"Say it."
"Fill me up—"
"Say it again."
"Fill me up, Aang—please—"
He groans. His hips stutter. His rhythm breaks.
"Take it," he says. "Take all of it."
----------------
this one was the og draft but wtv....oh and i cant write...gulp forgive me
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Reiner Braun loves hitting it from the back so he can see your curls bounce
Fingernails digging into your hips, Reiner slammed back into you from behind, watching your ass bounce against his hips– and, more importantly, your curls bounce against your upper back.
Reiner absolutely adored your curls. Whenever you would cuddle, he would twist your curls around his fingers, watching them spring back to normal once he let go.
Despite your protests and complaints about how he would cause frizz, Reiner didn’t stop. Your hair mesmerized him.
But above all, his favorite thing is getting to watch your curls bounce and splay around your shoulders whenever he fucks you from behind. In fact, it’s grown to be his favorite position purely because of your hair.
“Reinerrr…” you groaned, arms sore and tired from holding your lower half up in the air for him for so long.
He kept his brutal pace, fat tip hitting deep inside you with every thrust. Reiner had to hold himself back from reaching out to play with your curls mid-act. Watching them just wasn’t enough.
“So beautiful,” he whispered, breathing growing ragged and thrust becoming slower, “so fucking beautiful.”
Reiner slid one hand down to your pussy, rubbing your clit in gentle circles to make up for his slowed pace. He would drag his cock back out slow, and then slam back into without warning just to watch your hair bounce.
“O-oh god, Rei- nghhh I’m gonna cum!” Whimpers becoming pathetically loud, the coil in your tummy snapped, sending your orgasm crashing over you.
Reiner hissed, pulling out, giving his dick a few strokes before shooting a hot load of cum onto your lower back.
“I hope that didn’t get in my hair,” you mumbled, relaxing from your bent position, asleep arms finally coming back to life.
“I would never. Don’t you trust me not to mess with those perfect curls?” Reiner wiped your back off with a tissue off the nightstand, tossing it. He pulled you to his side, strong arms holding you close.
“I guess,” you murmured, voice muffled from your face in his chest. Reiner chuckled, already starting to play with your curls again, not stopping until you both fell asleep.
Finally wrote something specifically applicable to myself… I definitely enjoyed it.
The thought shifts somewhere in the back of your mind while you lie face-down in his bed.
The sheets smell like him, like smoke, sweat, and something else bitter, masculine, something that makes everything inside you tighten before Sukuna has even touched you.
The pillow under your hips tips your pelvis up so high your lower back aches, and you feel so exposed it makes heat crawl up your neck, humiliation burning hot under your skin.
Worse, it feels good.
So good your whole body throbs with anticipation.
You’re naked, and the air in the room is cool, biting at the wet skin between your thighs, making goosebumps race from the base of your spine to your shoulder blades, but under that chill, traitorous heat keeps spreading because Sukuna is still kneeling behind you.
You can hear his steady breathing.
And you can feel the way he’s just staring at you.
You crack first.
“Sukuna, quit dragging it out,” you mumble into the sheets, your voice coming out hoarse, annoyed, but the tips of your ears are burning so badly he could probably see it even in the half-dark.
Your knees are shaking from how long he’s been silent.
Sukuna doesn’t answer.
You twitch your hips from impatience and embarrassment all at once, and the movement makes your pussy open up even more, and he lets out a short, amused breath, laughter low in his chest.
“Baby, quit whining,” he finally says. Low, lazy, with that mocking edge that always makes the tips of your fingers go numb.
“I’m not whining,” you snap, even though you know damn well that’s a lie.
“You aaaare,” he drawls, mocking your tone. “Ask you to shut up for one second and you’re already bitching. ‘Hurry up,’ ‘just put it in already,’ ‘I want it.’ Tsk. And then when it’s actually time to take it...”
“Shut up!” you whine before he can start complaining about how you always struggle with his size.
You’re always like this.
You always get impatient first.
Then he gives you exactly what you asked for, and suddenly you’re whining like it’s his fault.
Sukuna laughs immediately. Low, rough, and your lower stomach clenches.
“I wasn’t done,” he continues calmly. “By the way, did I mention you’ve got a fucking insane ass?”
Usually, praise is enough to make you behave, but not today.
“I can still change my mind,” you mutter.
“Change your mind,” he repeats, his voice coated in so much poisonous sugar it makes your teeth ache. “Really? Go ahead. Lemme see.”
You try to push yourself up onto your elbows, but you barely get a few centimeters off the bed before his palm lands heavy between your shoulder blades and shoves you right back down, too hard to be gentle, but Sukuna knows you’ll fall into the mattress.
“Where d’you think you’re going?” he doesn’t ask, he states. Short, sharp. Your face presses into the sheets and you let out a muffled little “oh,” and he’s already leaning over you, his shadow swallowing you whole. “I told you to stay down.”
Sukuna doesn’t press hard, not yet. He’s just pinning you in place, and you hear his breathing closer now, feel the scent of his neck when he leans down near your temple.
“Stay still,” he whispers, his lips almost brushing your ear, and electricity shoots down your spine. “And stop squirming.”
“Sukuna!” you exhale, irritated, but your voice shakes.
He smirks, straightens up, and you hear him lick his lips. Then his hand settles over your ass, broad and possessive, fingers digging into the soft flesh, spreading you open, and you feel cool air brush over your cunt.
Sukuna parts your folds with his thumb, and you whimper because of how open you are, how indecent, how filthy you must look right now.
“Pretty,” he drawls, and your head spins. “Love it when you look like this...”
“Leave me alone,” you whine, twitching your hips, but he slaps you back down against the bed again, this time with his hand on your lower back, hard enough to keep you still.
With his other hand, he drags one finger slowly, from your clit, already swollen and slick, all the way down through your pussy to your entrance, gathering your wetness, and you jolt, clench up, let out a short, thin little sob.
Then he moves his finger higher again, but you jerk your hips immediately, instinctively, because it’s too much. Sukuna lets out a low laugh right away and shrugs like, fine, guess not today.
“Stop moving,” he orders calmly, pressing you harder into the mattress with his other hand until you can’t move at all. “I said stay down.”
“It tickles,” you whine into the pillow.
“It’s supposed to feel good,” he shoots back, and runs his finger over your pussy again, lazy little circles while you whimper and bury your face deeper into the sheets, drool slipping from your lips.
Sukuna stills and pulls his hand away, and you exhale in relief and disappointment all at once. You hear him spit into his palm, that filthy wet sound making everything inside you twist, and then his cock, hot and smooth, presses against your ass. He drags it through your slit, from your clit all the way down, slicking himself up, nudging at your entrance, but not pushing in.
Once. Twice. Three times.
“Ready?” he asks. Not even cruel about it, not really. Just a little.
“Yes,” you breathe out. “Yes, already, c’mon, faster...”
“Tch... Always this fucking needy when it’s me.” He clicks his tongue and lines himself up. You feel the head of his cock press right against your entrance, pushing, spreading you just a little, just a few millimeters, just enough to make sure you feel it.
You moan.
Long and pitiful, because it’s always like this.
“There you go, whining again, baby,” he murmurs, and for once, there’s something almost gentle in his voice. “Take it, good girl. I’m going slow.”
And then Sukuna pushes deeper.
You yelp at the sudden, sharp stretch when he forces your entrance open. Your hands clutch at the sheets so hard your nails leave marks, and Sukuna goes still, already halfway inside, and you can hear him breathing heavily above you, controlled, restrained.
“Fuck,” he exhales, and it sounds almost reverent. “Still so fucking tight. Pathetic.”
You make some broken, incoherent sound, trying to adjust, trying to relax, but your body only clamps down harder around him because panic, tiny and animal, is screaming too much.
“Always act surprised,” he mutters, hand tightening on your back, “like you don’t do this every fucking time.”
Sukuna’s huge body looms over you, and of course that only makes you squirm more.
“Relax your ass,” he orders, and presses hard on your lower back, pinning you to the bed so you can’t arch, can’t run, can’t escape. “And baby, breathe, fuck, deeper.”
You take a breath, deep and shaky, and on the exhale he pushes more of himself inside, slow and steady, stretching you wider around every inch.
You hear his breath catch above you the deeper his cock goes, like even he feels the way your body fights him before finally giving in.
Then one smooth, relentless thrust, and he drives in nearly to the base, forcing a sharp, burning stretch that makes your whole body tense.
“Ohhh—” it tears out of you, long and loud, and you bite the sheet so you don’t scream.
“Good girl,” Sukuna whispers. “Took almost all of it. Almost, hear me?”
Sukuna goes still like that again, giving you time to adjust, and you can feel his cock pulsing inside you. Then he starts moving again.
Slowly. He pulls out halfway, and you suck in a short, desperate breath, and then he drives back in with one sharp thrust, and you cry out because Sukuna hits that exact spot that makes your vision blur.
“Right there,” he hums, satisfied.
The next thrust lands harder, and the sharp slap of skin on skin cracks through the room, louder now, meaner, like he’s already losing patience with how much you’re squirming.
Sukuna slams into you again, and you scream into the pillow, biting down on it while he just laughs, rough and pleased. His hips smack against your ass with a wet, obscene sound.
“Easy, easy, mouthy little thing,” he purrs, even though he likes it when you’re loud, and you know it.
“Fuck you...” you try to snap back, but he pushes in deeper, and the words break apart into moans.
Sukuna speeds up.
“Cry about it,” he shoots back immediately, slamming into you again. “You begged for it.”
The mattress starts shifting under each thrust, creaking softly beneath you every time he drives you back into it.
His palm is still pressing down on your lower back, keeping you from lifting up...
His other hand clamps down on your hip, thumb digging little crescents into your skin every time he snaps forward.
You’re trapped between him and the bed, helpless, spread open, soaked in sweat and him.
You can feel your slick running down the insides of your thighs, the sheet under you going damp, the way his balls slap against your clit with every thrust.
A full-body tremor crashes over you when Sukuna buries himself all the way to the hilt.
“Fuuuck... you’re making a mess,” he groans through his nose, sounding downright delighted. “Your cunt’s making the prettiest sounds.”
Sukuna stills for a second, pulls out almost all the way, and in the silence of the room there’s that wet, obscene sucking sound when he thrusts back in.
You feel the wet drag of it, every inch of him sliding out slow and slick, enough to make your whole body tense before he drives back in.
You let out a choked moan.
“You hear that?” he repeats, driving into you again, and again, and again, every thrust punctuated by that filthy, wet slap.
“Shut... ah-ah... shut up,” you sob.
“Or what?”
Sukuna suddenly leans all the way down over your back, hovering over your ear, and his voice goes quiet, smooth, almost tender, and goosebumps race over your whole body.
“Gonna punish me? Tell me you’re not coming back? You will. You always do. Because nobody fucks you like I do. Nobody knows how deep you can take me.”
Sukuna lets out a rough hum while you try to protest, then straightens up and suddenly thrusts all the way in, fully, to the base, so deep you feel his pelvis press against your ass, the head of his cock nudging your cervix, and you cry out, high and thin, tears springing to your eyes from the strain, from how good it is.
“There,” Sukuna growls. “Took all of it. What were you whining for? You could do it. Knew you could take it,” he adds, almost smug, like he’d never doubted you for a second.
He stays buried inside you like that, breathing hard, and you can feel your cunt pulsing around him, your stomach muscles tightening and releasing, and you’re right there, so close one more movement would do it.
“What, you want it?” he whispers, his lips brushing your temple. His voice is calm, even, like he’s not buried balls-deep in your pussy. “Wanna come? Say it. C’mon, I’m listening.”
You can’t talk. Your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth, and all you can do is shake your head, sniffling, trying to move your hips on your own, but he immediately presses you down again, chest to your back, hips flush to your ass, and you’re flattened under him all over again.
“There you go,” he murmurs, voice dropping lower. “That’s my girl.”
It’s heavy, almost impossible to breathe.
Sukuna wraps a hand around your throat, feeling how wildly your heart is pounding.
“Yes,” you gasp. “Yes, please, yes.”
“Oh, really?” His lips stretch into a wide, mocking grin.
“Sukuna...”
“How pathetic,” he drawls, and you can hear the predator’s smile in his voice. “Lying under me, dripping, shaking, and you can’t even say two words. Drooling again too, huh? Yeah...”
He laughs under his breath.
“That mouth on you... all that attitude, and look where it gets you.”
You want to hit him. Or bite him. Or scream something insulting at him. Instead, you just press your face harder into the sheets, and a choked, humiliated moan tears out of your throat.
He laughs and takes his hand off your neck.
“Wait!” you gasp, panicked, when he shifts his hips back.
“That’s it,” Sukuna says, and slams back into you so hard the shock shoots from your spine all the way to your fingertips.
You squeal, clawing at the sheets, trying to push back against him, meet him halfway, but he keeps you pinned to the bed, not letting you move, and all you can do is take it, take it, take it until the whole world collapses into one single point and you come, crying out, body seizing, clenching around him so hard he groans through his teeth.
And three thrusts later, Sukuna finally stills, coming deep inside you, hot and hard, with a growl that vibrates straight through your spine.
You stay like that. You’re breathing hard, face buried in the sheet, wet with tears and spit. He’s breathing hard too, collapsed over you with all his weight, his cock still inside you, slowly softening, and you can feel the warmth spreading low in your belly.
He doesn’t pull out. Just stays there, keeping you full while it starts to leak around him, warm and humiliating between your thighs.
Sukuna drags a hand along the line of your thigh, slow, soothing, almost gentle. Then he leans down and presses a lazy kiss to the nape of your neck, so casual it almost feels mean after everything else.
“Good girl,” he whispers against the back of your head.
You mumble something incoherent, and he chuckles, pleased, giving one lazy, reflexive roll of his hips that pulls another gasp from you and makes you instinctively try to wriggle out from under him.
“Quit it,” he murmurs, tightening his arm around you when you squirm. “You’re not going anywhere.”
He gives a low, satisfied hum against the back of your neck.
“Next time I’m tying you up,” he adds, like it’s nothing. “So you don’t squirm at all.”
You close your eyes and think that... he’s probably not joking.
And, honestly, you think you like that.
Do not repost, copy, plagiarize, translate, or feed my work into AI in any form!)
Divider credit: @dollywons
trying to make up for my disappearance with sukuna smut </3
"fuck!" you cry, throwing your head back and letting your jaw go slack. clark is pistoning his hips against yours relentlessly, the only sounds in the room being the lewd skin slapping and the heavy panting and moans emitting from both of you.
"i know, honey" he coos, trying his best to be sweet verbally despite how rough he's being with you physically. "m'sorry babygirl" he tries.
the stretch was borderline excruciating. he was just too big. the funny part is he doesn't even know he's that big! or atleast he didn't know it until you started screaming complaining about it.
"s'too big, clark!" you mewl, squirming under him, but you can't help but arch into him. it's almost instinctive.
"just breathe, baby... breathe" maybe he should take his own advice, because he's barely able to take in a full breath with just how tight your gummy walls are squeezing and fluttering around him.
"i- can't-" the pleasure becomes overwhelming when clark reaches in between the both of you to aimlessly rub at your clit, anything to get you to stop whining. he immediately notices your eyes roll back and your breath hitch. "s'that better honey?" he asks, "that feel a little better?" you nod frantically, barely able to compute his sweet words as you feel yourself growing closer and closer to coming undone. the sniveling and the cries coming from you morph into delighted moans as the stretch becomes euphoric, his praises egging you on impossibly.
"there she is" he purrs, a small, knowing smirk playing on his face. "there's my girl" he litters your face with small kisses in an effort to calm you down as he continues his thrusts, growing closer to the edge himself.
"g-gosh- baby," he groans, his big fingers still working at your clit. "feels s'good clark!" you moan, right at the edge. "yeah?" he moans right back at you. "that feels good, huh?" he speeds up his thrusts, making you squeal. "feel me so deep, yeah?" he looks down and sees himself poking through your lower belly. he reaches down and presses on the bulge, making you wince at the tightness. the bulge is disappearing and reappearing with every thrust. "shi- shoot, honey" he mutters.
you feel the white hot band in your tummy snap, pleasure shooting through your body as you cry out his name. that alone is enough to push him over the edge as well. he cums deep inside you, fucking into you a few last times. you both lay there, panting. he's heavy on top of you, all 6'3, 235lbs of him laying sweaty on top of you (not that you mind). and of course, clark is quick to comfort you.
he pushes some of the hair out of your face, off of your damp, flushed skin. "you did so good, baby... m'sorry i was so rough" he speaks gently, kissing your forehead.
cw: smut!, mean!Scott, degradation, car sex, rough oral (male receiving), spitting, slapping, angry sex
“That’s not going to happen again,” Scott had stated bluntly as he put his cock back in his jeans and buckled his belt, still smacking the same piece of gum he had been chewing before the two of you fucked for the first time in your hotel room. “I take my work very seriously. I’m not going to let some silly little girl get me fired. Now put some real clothes on, this tornado’s not going to chase itself.”
But anytime you tried your luck and pawed at his belt in the truck, he would roll his eyes while pulling over - taking his cock out and giving you what you wanted.
Scott had you bent over the passenger seat in the middle of nowhere Oklahoma, bullying his way into your cunt with his cock for the hundredth time this month. You would moan, your eyes rolling into the back of your head and he would scold you mid fuck for drooling on the head rest.
“You’re such a fucking mess, you know that, slut?” he’d demand, bringing his hand down hard on your ass when you were too fucked out to respond, “You’re dripping all over my cock and slobbering all over my fucking work truck like a bitch.”
You’d taken to leaving your hotel room door unlocked and Scott was growing accustomed to slinking through it whenever his cock got hard in the night or early morning. But some mornings he'd have to use this special privilege just to get you up on time - which always left a sour taste in his mouth.
“Lazy slut,” Scott spat, rolled his eyes as he came into your hotel room one morning after you had pressed “snooze” on your alarm one too many times. You groaned in protest as he yanked your blanket off of your already naked body - you loved sleeping naked, but especially when you knew you were likely to have a certain strict hottie visit you.
The cold air shocked your system but you were quickly warmed by Scott’s body hovering above you as he yanked you by your ankle to the edge of the bed where he was standing.
He threw your legs over his shoulders and shoved his cock inside you before landing a slap across your face and grabbing your jaw “This is all you're good for, huh?” he scoffed, shaking his head. “How many StormPar hours have you wasted sleeping in or taking so long to get fucking ready in the morning? Always making me wait for you. The only value you bring to this team is being my fuck doll. At least yo’ve got that going for you.”
All you could do was moan and nod your head in agreement, but that didn’t make Scott happy either. “Shut the fuck up,” he’d whisper harshly, bringing his hand down over your mouth as he plowed into you over and over. The hotel walls were thin, but he was satisfied enough to let you scream into his hand as he used your pussy.
He suddenly spat on your face, making your pussy tighten and gush on him, and he just let out a cold laugh. “Oh you were just made to be my little play thing, huh? They should just pay you to lay in my hotel room all day and wait for me to get back from chases to use so I can clear my head, it’d save them a lot of money - a far more practical use for you.”
As disgusted as Scott sounded as he rambled, he shattered - spraying his load deep inside you upon watching your eyes roll to the back of your head at his cruel words.
What would really make Scott’s blood boil was when you had the audacity to fall asleep in the passenger seat while he drove. Some days as the sun would set on the drive back to your hotel, your eyelids would get heavy - making yourself way too comfortable on the job for Scott’s liking.
“Let me help you make yourself more useful,” he scoffed while undoing his belt, causing you to stir awake before reaching over to grip your hair and pull your face down into his lap with one hand, the other hand safely on the wheel.
You immediately understood and got to work, sliding his already hard cock between your lips - sucking and slobbering and lathing your tongue across his veins.
He groaned and pushed your head down harder, forcing himself down your throat harshly. “Yeah, slut. I know you can take it all,” he grunted, using your hair to guide you up and down his length.
You sputtered and gagged as he used you down to the collarbone and pulled you to your tonsils before forcing you down again over and over. You;d never had your throat used so rough before and his mean inconsideration burned in your tummy and made you wet, your pussy jealous for the attention your mouth was receiving.
“All your worth is tied up in these holes, huh? Don’t think I’ve ever worked with someone more incompetent,” or as pretty as you, but Scott kept that part to himself.
Tears stung your eyes and you struggled to breathe as Scott expertly drove the car while simultaneously using your head to get himself off. “Just turn your dumb little brain off and open your throat for me, show me you can be useful” he encouraged.
Suddenly, to your relief, Scott groaned and came - holding your head down as deep as possible. You tried to keep your teeth from scraping his balls. “Fuck,” Scott grunted as his load shot down your throat and into your tummy.
He let go of your hair and you instinctively sat up and coughed, trying to clear your airway. He took his eyes off the road for a moment to glance at you, a smug smirk pulling on his mouth when he saw your red eyes, tear stained cheeks and slobbery chin.
“You’re always such a filthy mess,” he shook his head, fixing his belt and staring at the road in front of him before popping a fresh piece of gum into his mouth.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
I read your one bi han fic where reader thinks bibi was just using her as a stress relief and then he reassures her which is sweet but here me out...a fanfic with bi han x reader where reader has a crush on him and they have sex and she wants to spend more time with her and stuff and he just outright tells her it was for stress relief(he's lying) then he sees her with johnny or tomas and gets jealous and then confesses to her
A Fool's Assumption
ur talking ab Snowstorm 🥹my first ever fic i had balls to publish lmao y’all really like angsty bi han for some reason 😮💨
Pairing(s): Bi-Han x Reader
Warnings: NSFW, vaginal sex, rough sex, jealousy, slight angst, not much to say ab this one rlly
A/N: i’m getting my mojo dojo back on…. kind of 🫠 also i do plan on rewriting some of my old work, just dunno whennnn
Masterlist
Your hand shot out in front of you, gripping the sheets for dear life as a cold hand pressed down on your lower back, forcing you to arch into the bed.
You gasped as his thick tip bullied into your spongy g-spot, dragging over it again and again in the most delicious way.
“B-Bi-Han!” you choked out, mewling when he tangled his fingers in your hair and yanked your head back roughly.
He grunted in acknowledgment, his thrusts precise and punishing.
“You wanted this,” he growled low, “don’t start pretending you can’t handle it.”
His hand splayed across your back, guiding your hips back onto his, a pleased sigh slipping from him as he sank even deeper.
It was becoming too much—the mix of pleasure and pain from his rough thrusts overwhelming you, especially after the three orgasms he’d already wrung out of you, climbing you toward your fourth.
With a weak whimper, you tried to crawl away, inching forward even as he kept driving into you.
His eyes narrowed, a smirk tugging at his lips.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he rumbled, voice low and menacing.
Two hands seared onto your hips and dragged you back harshly against him, wedging his cock impossibly deeper.
“Don’t run from what you begged for,” he sneered. “Try that again and I’ll pin you to this mattress and ruin this pussy.”
You sobbed against the sheets, your walls clenching painfully around him as you succumbed to your fourth orgasm.
“P-please, I can’t—” you gasped, tears slipping from your lashes.
Bi-Han let out a low curse at the sound of your sweet, wrecked voice, feeling his length twitch violently inside you.
“Yes you can. Just a bit more,” he panted, draping himself over you and pinning your hips down to the mattress with his own.
You thrashed beneath him, only to be held completely still, choked moans and barely-there whimpers spilling out of you.
Bi-Han drove into you a few more times, savoring the way your walls pulsed around him before pulling out and spilling across your rear.
“Shit…” he grunted, catching his breath as he slowly lifted himself off you, falling to the side with an exhausted groan.
You stayed there panting, body trembling and twitching with aftershocks, struggling to steady your breath.
“Fucking hell, Bi-Han,” you complained breathlessly. “I think you broke me.”
A low chuckle rumbled from his lips as he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close.
“So dramatic,” he grunted. “I wasn’t that rough with you.”
You shot him a look of disbelief before rolling your eyes and snuggling further into him, the steady beat of his heart lulling you to sleep.
When you awoke, your body was properly sore and the space beside you was cold and empty. You pouted at that, but shrugged it off. He was a busy man, and you didn’t expect him to stay and cater to you all morning.
You stretched, got up, and began getting ready for the day, taking a soothing shower, brushing your hair, applying your tinted gloss—all while humming softly to yourself, a small smile playing on your lips.
Honestly speaking, you weren’t sure what to expect from him after the deed, but it definitely wasn’t this.
It was him barely sparing you a glance, giving you the cold shoulder every time you tried to spark a conversation. His words toward you stayed as icy as ever, like he was too busy to even bother speaking with you.
You frowned at all of it, trying to make sense of the shift. After the night you spent together, you thought maybe he’d soften a little or at the very least acknowledge you more than usual.
“Hey, Bi-Han,” you said softly, knocking on his office door to get his attention.
He raised his head, eyes narrowing at the sight of you before a grunt slipped out.
“…Yes?” he said gruffly, immediately turning back to whatever document sat in front of him.
You lingered in the doorway for a moment, stepping inside as you tried to figure out what to even say.
“Are you… okay?” you asked cautiously.
“Yes,” he replied, brow lifting briefly. “Should I not be?”
You shook your head. “No, no, I just… I was making sure.”
Bi-Han hummed low in acknowledgment, eyes dropping right back to the page.
“Are you… mad at me?” you squeaked, biting your lip as your fingers played with the hem of your shirt.
His eyes lifted at that, wary and evaluating.
“No. I am not,” he answered slowly, like he was trying to figure out why you’d even ask something so out of left field. “I am completely fine, Y/n. What do you need?”
“It’s just… you’ve been acting kind of cold with me, is all.” You shrugged, feeling smaller by the second.
“I have been acting the same as yesterday,” he replied flatly.
You opened your mouth, then shut it again, suddenly unsure what you were even trying to argue.
Bi-Han sighed, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “What are you expecting, Y/n?”
You shrugged, shaking your head and giving a noncommittal little noise.
He huffed, eyes sharpening as he stared you down.
“Do not waste my time. What are you expecting from me?” he repeated, irritation threading through his voice.
You exhaled shakily, looking away before forcing yourself to meet his eyes again.
“I dunno…” you murmured. “I just… thought you’d be different. Y’know, after… last night.”
Bi-Han went quiet, a frown settling onto his features. He studied you for a long moment before letting out a deep, resigned sigh.
“Last night was… a stress relief for the both of us,” he said evenly, and you flinched at how blunt he was. “You seemed frustrated, and I had far too much work to think about. It seemed like a good way to rid ourselves of stress. That’s all.”
Ouch.
Yeah. That fucking hurt.
Your eyes dropped to the floor, lashes going wet as tears gathered. You grit your teeth and forced yourself to nod.
“Right…” you said, voice low and tight. “Stress relief. Got it.”
Bi-Han opened his mouth as if to say something else, but you gave a quick bow, murmuring an apology for disturbing him before swiftly exiting his office.
After that, you began avoiding him whenever possible. If he happened to be around, you’d excuse yourself to finish your duties elsewhere. When speaking to him couldn’t be avoided, you kept it polite and brief, reverting completely to the way things had been before.
It was starting to grate on his nerves just how much you were distancing yourself.
But really… who did he have to blame for that?
The truth was, he had the biggest, stupidest crush on you. And now that the two of you had slept together, the dumbass didn’t know how to function afterward. He had been so sure you weren’t into him (the fucking idiot)—at least, not the way he was into you. He’d assumed you’d just slept with him so you could say you managed to do it.
Now he knew you weren’t that shallow—you were far too kind to pull something like that.
Still, he could never be completely sure.
Women of all types were always throwing themselves at his feet, flaunting themselves for even the smallest scrap of his attention. He had just considered it lucky that he’d had his eye on you for a while and had finally given in to his own needs.
But now?
Now he was rethinking his choice of words and how dismissive he’d been about the whole thing.
He sighed, grumbling to himself as he stalked down the hall toward his office. He would definitely have to make it up to you somehow. Maybe take you out to dinner and try to confess, in his own impossible way.
As he racked his brain, trying to come up with something, he heard your laughter drifting from down the hall and looked up.
Johnny had an arm hooked firmly around your shoulders, apparently cracking jokes, his eyes lighting up whenever they landed and made you laugh.
Bi-Han frowned at the sight, his usual scowl settling onto his face as he began approaching the two of you.
“Oh come on, princess,” Johnny grinned at you. “We’d make it to the Oscars if you became the leading lady in my new film.”
You giggled, a faint blush coloring your features as you gently smacked his arm. “Absolutely not, Cage! Besides, I have duties to tend to. I can’t just up and go to Paris for your film.” You smiled.
“Indeed, you cannot.”
Both of you turned your heads at the gruff response, watching Bi-Han stop in front of you with an annoyed expression, his eyes fixed on you with something that almost looked like anger.
“Grandmaster,” you muttered, bowing slightly, which only made him frown a little more.
“Stop ruining my plans, you emo blizzard,” Johnny complained, tugging you closer to him as if to keep Bi-Han from stealing you away. “I need a pretty lady like her to make my film look spectacular.” He winked at you.
You shook your head, a small grin tugging at your lips. “Johnny,” you said exasperated, “do you even listen? I said no!”
“Nah, heard you. Just trynna convince you,” he grinned back.
“Y/n.” Bi-Han interrupted, his voice low.
You looked up at him again, noticing his eyes were darker than before.
“Office. Now,” he grunted, already turning on his heel and briskly walking toward his office.
You blinked before letting out a small sigh.
“The hell is his problem?” Johnny tilted his head. “Got an ice pick up his ass or something?” he snorted at his own joke.
You shook your head, slipping out from under his arm with a soft laugh. “Maybe,” you joked back.
“Hopefully he doesn’t give your ass too many frostbites.”
“Johnny!”
He laughed and shooed you off.
You took a deep breath, staring at the door in front of you before exhaling and gently knocking.
A grunt sounded from the other side. After a moment, you pushed the door open and stepped into his office.
Bi-Han was already seated behind his desk, dark eyes fixed on you the moment you entered. The door shut behind you with a quiet click.
“Grandmaster,” you murmured politely.
Bi-Han stared at you for a moment, his eyes unreadable.
“You seemed to enjoy yourself,” he said flatly, his voice still carrying that low tone from earlier.
You blinked. “…What?”
“Cage,” he replied, looking at you unimpressed. “Laughing at his pathetic jokes and letting him hang off you like a fool.”
Your brows shot up in surprise and confusion. “He’s just a friend. He was only joking around.”
“That’s all the imbecile does,” he scowled. “Joking. Always joking, never taking anything seriously. The fool.” He muttered the last part under his breath. “And always touching.”
You stared at him for a moment, your brows slowly furrowing.
“Why does that matter to you?”
He stiffened, his eyes cutting away from you briefly before returning to your gaze, nearly blank.
“You are distracting him from his duties and training,” he said stiffly.
You raised a brow. “Johnny distracting himself is hardly my problem. Besides, you know he barely pays attention during training and ends up slacking on some of his duties.”
“Precisely why you shouldn’t be speaking so freely with him,” he said flatly.
“Oh, please.” You snorted. “He’ll find me one way or another,” you mused.
Bi-Han’s eyes narrowed at you.
“You seem to be quite comfortable with him,” he noted.
“Well… yeah,” you mumbled awkwardly. “We actually talk to each other like normal people.”
Bi-Han stilled at that, his lips pursing slightly as he considered your words.
“Look—” you sighed. “If this is about you thinking we’re sleeping together, we’re not,” you said bluntly, staring him down. “I make it a habit not to do that. Whether it’s stress relief or not.”
Bi-Han tensed at your words, his lips parting slightly in surprise at how forward you were.
“So don’t worry,” you finished. “I’ll keep it professional.”
Bi-Han stared at you, quietly stunned. After a moment, he let out a long sigh and shook his head.
“No…” he muttered.
Your brows furrowed. “…No? What do you mean no?”
“I’m… a fool,” he sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “I must admit I was not exactly… forthcoming with you.”
You simply stared at him, waiting for him to explain.
“The reason I said that was because I wasn’t sure you liked me. I simply thought that I may have been… bragging rights of sorts.” he winced.
“A what?” you asked, confused.
“I thought you slept with me because you could,” he repeated.
Your eyes widened and you sputtered, flustered by the thought. “You thought I slept with you as a trophy?!”
He nodded solemnly. “Yes.”
“I— What? Bi-Han, what the hell?!” you gawked at him. “Why would you even think that?”
He shrugged, something so out of character for him.
You opened your mouth, only to promptly shut it again, pinching the bridge of your nose with a soft sigh.
“No, I didn’t sleep with you because of that,” you murmured, lowering your hand and meeting his eyes shyly. “I did it because I like you.”
Bi-Han blinked, a faint smirk curling onto his lips. “Is that so?”
You glared at him. “Don’t start with this shit.”
He let out a low chuckle, standing up and rounding his desk before stopping in front of you. He tentatively raised a hand, gently caressing your cheek. A soft hum left him when you nuzzled into his palm.
“I like you too,” he murmured softly.
You smiled up at him, lidded eyes full of adoration.
“How about this time we sleep with each other for different reasons, hmm?” you teased, a grin breaking across your face as he smirked and let his hand slide down to your neck, fingers curling lightly over your pulse.
“I think that’s a fine suggestion,” he murmured darkly, leaning down to crash his lips against yours.
Hopefully one of you remembers to lock his office door before Johnny barges in looking for either of you.
A very dirty request, but I would really like to read about Bi Han and the reader who, while the Grandmaster is solving clan matters in his office with other people, hides under his desk, giving him... pleasure🌚, and Bi Han really tries to pretend that nothing is happening...
The Hidden Eye
Pairing(s): Bi-Han x Reader
Warnings: NSFW, smut, explicit sexual content, oral sex (m receiving), public/semi public sex, dom bi-han, hair pulling, slight asphyxiation, gagging, teasing, praise, exhibitionism
A/N: i fucking love the art that is sucking dick
Masterlist
A rough exhale slips past Bi-Han’s lips, a faint cloud of frost forming in the air as the sound leaves him sharper than intended, edged with irritation. The two clan members standing before him flinch slightly at the shift in his tone.
Was he annoyed? A bit.
Frustrated?
Extremely.
Especially since he couldn’t act on it—at least, not with them standing right in front of him.
You were so dead once he was finished with these two, he swears. The audacity you had was nothing new to him—your confidence something he had long since noted—but he hadn’t thought you had the gall to put it to the test on him like this.
His gaze slips down once more, glaring at your watery eyes peeking up at him from beneath his desk, your mouth full with his throbbing length, drool slipping prettily down the pulsing veins.
You stare right back at him, smug and unbothered.
Bi-Han drags his gaze back up immediately, forcing his expression into something neutral and composed, gritting his teeth as he feels your tongue drag along the underside of him.
“Continue,” he orders curtly, his voice steady despite the tension coiling beneath his skin.
“Y-yes, Grandmaster,” they stutter before continuing with their report on their afternoon patrol.
There had apparently been an attack on one of the shipments, causing a delay in the arrival of important goods for the clan. The offenders had made off with a significant amount, only adding to Bi-Han’s growing irritation.
“Why were they not escorted? Did I not send out a team specifically for this?” Bi-Han scowls, a hand slowly slipping beneath his desk to tangle in your locks.
You shudder at the contact, feeling his cool fingers dig into your scalp before dragging you down his length, holding you firmly at the base.
You struggled for a moment, your throat working overtime as it tightens around him, doing your best to stay quiet. Your eyes began to roll back slightly as you grow lightheaded from the lack of air.
You feel him twitch at the back of your throat, drawing a soft gag from you as your throat clenches tighter around him.
Just as the edges of your vision begin to blur, he finally releases you, allowing you to pull back and take a quiet, gulping breath.
You scowl up at him, catching the faint smirk tugging at his lips.
Oh, so he wants to play dirty?
You feel your own smirk creeping up, your hand coming up to wrap around the base of him, stroking upward in a filthy rhythm as your tongue drags along a bulging vein.
His cock twitches violently in your hold at the sensation, making you grin as you continue to pump your hand, your spit coating him allowing for an easy, slick glide. You press a flurry of kisses along his length, your tongue darting out every so often to tease at his beading tip.
You can’t help but lean back slightly, taking a moment to admire him—how beautiful he looks in your hand.
Long and thick, trimmed black hair decorating the base of his girth, his skin slightly darker there before flushing into a deep, pretty pinkish-purple at the angled tip. Precome gathers at the head, glistening, almost taunting you to taste it.
The veins running along his shaft only tempt you further, drawing your attention, practically begging for the tip of your tongue to trace them, to map out every sensitive spot hidden along the length.
You couldn’t help but do exactly that, dragging your mouth up and down, feeling every pulse, every twitch, every ridge beneath your swollen lips.
His fingers slid into your hair once more, tugging sharply at your locks in clear impatience, a silent warning to stop teasing him.
Your eyes flicked up, catching the tight clench of his jaw, the strain in his muscles as he held himself back from forcing you down his length and using your mouth however he pleased.
You decided to take a bit of pity on him, pressing a few well-placed kisses along his shaft, coaxing more precume from him before finally taking him back into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his length before you hollowed your cheeks.
You set a fast, steady pace, careful to keep quiet as you sucked and worked him to your heart’s content.
Bi-Han was slowly unraveling above you, one hand rubbing at his temple or covering his mouth with his fist while the other remained tangled in your hair, gripping tightly as if it were the only thing keeping him grounded.
His jaw ached from how hard he was clenching, teeth grinding as he forced back every sound that threatened to escape, every groan caught behind locked lips as your tongue traced wicked patterns along his shaft, your throat tightening around his now constantly leaking tip.
He was embarrassingly close—too close.
The voices of the clansmen blurred into nothing, their debriefing fading into background noise as he lost focus completely—though they wouldn’t know it, not with the deep scowl still fixed firmly on his face as it normally was.
You only managed to bob your head a few more times before you felt his body tense completely, his cock kicking violently as his hand pressed you down, your mouth fully sheathing him.
Bi-Han could barely suppress the shivers running through him as he painted your mouth with cold spurts, cum sliding down your throat in thick globs.
A few tears slipped from your eyes, peering up at him in satisfaction as he emptied himself, your throat squeezing to milk whatever was left.
A long sigh left Bi-Han as he tilted his head back, eyes closing for a moment before remembering the clansmen that had gone silent at the sound.
“Leave. We will discuss this tomorrow,” he muttered, a slight rasp in his usually composed voice.
Both members bowed before quickly exiting, the door clicking shut softly behind them.
Bi-Han looked down at you, admiring the view—your eyes wide and watery, tears slipping down to stain your cheeks, your mouth still full of him, cum and drool slipping from the corners.
“Took everything so well,” he hummed, smirking down at you. “Such a good girl.”
He gently pulled out, making sure to tap the last of his cum onto your tongue before hauling you up, turning you around and bending you over his desk.
“I suppose you deserve a reward,” he mused, pulling your pants down to expose your soaking wet cunt.
You mewled softly, bracing yourself against his desk as you looked back at him.
“Please,” you whimpered.
He only chuckled before lining himself up against your slit.
18+ your older boyfriend tojis first time eating you out from the back...♡ (toji x chubby!reader)
you didnt expect it to feel like this.
your legs felt unsteady as you rose from the floor, the carpet rough against your knees before you were upright. toji didnt give you a moment to find your balance. his hands, rough and scarred, gripped your waist, spinning you around with a force that made your head spin, and suddenly you were facing the worn leather couch.
"bend over," he grunted, the command low against your back.
your heart hammered against your ribs, the rythm matching the throbbing between your thighs. you hesitated, clutching the hem of your t shirt, but toji didnt have patience for tou to hesitate.
he pressed a heavy hand between your shoulder blades, guiding you forward until your stomach hit the leather armrest. the couch dipped a little under your weight, the smell of old smoke and musk filling your nose.
"ass up," he ordered, kicking your feet apart with his boot.
you gasped, stumbling slightly but catching yourself on the cushion. the position left you completely exposed, the cool air in the hotel room brushing against your wet heat.
you felt vulnerable, your chubby thighs trembling as you tried to hold the pose. you shift nervously because you knew what you looked like from this angle, soft and overflowing, nothing like the hardened man standing behind you.
"look at that," toji muttered, his voice thick with appreciation. "all this soft ass."
his large palms cupped your cheeks, squeezing hard enough to make you gasp. he handled you like he owned you, his fingers digging into the generous flesh. you felt the rough callouses on his skin catching against your sensitive thighs, sending shivers racing up your spine.
"..please." you whimpered, not even sure what you were asking for.
toji just hushed you, kneeling behind you.
"gonna take care of this."
the first touch of his tongue against you was already too much. he flattened his tongue against your clit and licked a broad, wet stripe up to your dripping entrance. your knees nearly buckled at the sensation, a broken moan tearing from your throat.
you moaned, burying your face in the leather cushion to muffle the sound.
toji didnt like that, he grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling your head back sharply.
he dove back in, his face burying itself between your legs. this was a man starving, toji ate you out, his mouth hot and demanding. he sucked your folds into his mouth, his tongue probing inside you, tasting every inch of your arousal.
the noises were obscene, all wet, squelching sounds filled the room, echoing off the cheap wallpaper. toji was groaning into your flesh, low vibrations that traveled straight through your clit. he sounded like he was enjoying a meal, grunting and humming as he devoured you.
"tastes so fuckin' good," he mumbled, his words muffled against your mound. "sweet little pussy."
your mind was almost blank. his nose rubbed against your cheek as he tilted his head to suck on your clit, a sensation that made you gasp and clench around nothing. he didnt seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to love it, pressing his face deeper, smothering himself in your softness.
toji panted, coming up for air for a split second before diving back in. "drippin all over me, huh."
his hands held you open, his thumbs spreading your labia wide so he could fuck you with his tongue. hed not shaved in a bit, so you could feel the faint stubbme on his chin scratching your skin, a delicious friction that only heightened the intensity. he was relentless, lashing at your clit with rapid flicks of his tongue before sucking it hard into his mouth.
you were trembling uncontrollably now, your fingers gripping the chair until your knuckles turned white. the pressure was building, a tight coil in your stomach that just grew tighter with every pass of his tongue.
"too much...," you cried out, your voice breaking.
"aint too much," he rasped, his breath hot against your wet flesh.
he doubled down, his movements becoming more aggressive.
he was slurping loudly, unconcerned with how messy he was making it. spit and arousal dripped down your thighs, coating his face, and you could feel it running, sticky and warm.
"gonna make a mess of this pussy," he grunted, biting down gently on the inside of your thigh.
you cried out, your hips bucking back against his face instinctively. toji chuckled, the sound vibrating through you. he liked your neediness, he liked how desperate you were for his mouth.
"grind on it," he says. "use my face."
you were embarrassed, your face burning hot, but you couldnt deny him.
you moved your hips, rocking back against his tongue. the friction was incredible, his chin rough against your sensitive skin while his tongue fucked into you. you were riding his face, lost in the sheer filthiness of the act.
toji groaned loudly, encouraging you. "yeah. just like that. fuckin' suffocate me with it."
he reached up, one hand sliding around to grip your belly, pulling you back harder against his mouth. the possessiveness of the gesture made your head spin. the contrast between his hard, muscular body and your soft, plush figure was there, and it seemed to drive him wild.
your breath hitched, your toes curling in the carpet.
"...close," you managed to gasp out.
toji didnt slow down. If anything, he got nastier. he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked hard, his tongue fluttering rapidly against the bundle of nerves. at the same time, he slipped his thumb inside you, curling it upward to find that spot that made you see stars.
"come on," he growled, the vibrations against your clit pushing you to the brink. "give it to me. soak my face."
your body seized up, your back arching as the orgasm ripped through you. you moaned his name, your vision whitening out as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. you could hear yourself making sounds you didnt know you were capable of, high and completely unfiltered.
toji didnt stop.
he drank you down, his tongue lapping up your release as it flooded out of you. he grunted in satisfaction, his grip on your hips bruising as he held you in place while you rode out the aftershocks.
finally, when you slumped forward against the couch, unable to hold yourself up any longer, he pulled back. you felt cold instantly, missing the heat of his mouth.
he pressed one last kiss to your clit, settling back with a low huff of laughter, your body still slumped against the couch.
Zuko works hard sometimes forgetting to attend his bride what if one day Zuko accidentally walks in on his wife pleasuring herself
♯┆reader x husband!zuko .ᐟ 18+!
ᝰ.ᐟ being the fire lord isn't easy—everybody knows that. but being the wife of the fire lord? you'd argue it's harder. cw! use of pet names (my love, baby), f!masturbation, fingering, praise, fluff (?), missionary, no protection
a/n: hello guys i didn't expect my zuko fic to get 2700 likes LMAOO i really appreciate all the support!! i wrote ts in one sitting on the bus so i'm really cracking up at it being my most popular work as of right now. is this a sign to convert to a zuko writer full time? (i appreciate u guys so much)
the past few weeks have, unfortunately, followed the same routine. you're gently woken up way too early by zuko's soft voice, murmuring affection and apologies as he gets out of bed—promising his schedule will be clear soon—before leaving you to fall back into your slumber. this is followed by the next 14 hours, in which, you barely catch a glimpse of your husband while finding ways to entertain yourself while simultaneously juggling your own responsibilities. and finally, when it's time for bed, you get yourself ready to pounce on him—only to be fallen asleep on as soon as you get him into bed.
of course, you won't fault him for it. he's been very, very busy, and you're not a fiend—so what if you haven't had sex in...how long has it been now? whatever! irrelevant. zuko's more important and if he needs sleep, that's all he'll get. that short nightgown you wore to bed the other night? of course it wasn't to seduce him! it's just hot these days. the way you press yourself against him at night, leaving kisses along his neck? it's only because you miss him so much. the long, lazy, kisses you give him in the morning when he leaves? exaggerating as you moan into his mouth? pfft, please. god forbid you want him to sleep in for once—it's just concern.
yup. you're totally okay with his absence. you're independent—crafty, even. lounging lazily on your bed, you roll onto your stomach and groan. you're bored out of your mind, and the heat has been getting worse lately. even in your almost nude attire, you still feel sweat clinging to your skin, thighs sticking together. the external heat you feel, however, is nothing compared to what's been brewing on the inside—arousal so desperate that you feel it almost sharply.
with a frustrated exhale, you rise to your feet, padding over to the bedroom door. you take a quick peek into the hallway to ensure that it's empty before shutting the door, returning to your bed. flopping onto your back, you part your thighs, leaning your head back against the pillow. your thoughts drift to your husband whilst your hand snakes down beneath your clothes, grazing your stomach.
you wonder to yourself what he must be doing right now—how he must be feeling—as your fingers seek out your clit, a soft exhale leaving your lips. having completed your duties for the day, you owe yourself this moment of relaxation—a gentle reprieve from an all too overwhelming position of power.
unsurprisingly, your line of thought shifts to more...intimate memories. the feel of his breath against your neck—your head tilts to the side. his chest pressing heavy onto yours as he settles against you—your legs fall open just a little more. biting your lips, you focus on the memory of his fingers stretching you open as your own try to recreate it.
a small, breathy, sound escapes you when you curl your fingers up, pressing against your spongy wall. you start to move your fingers in a rhythm that feels familiar, but not the same. your thumb rubs messily at your clit, free hand sliding under your shirt to squeeze your breast. lost in your pleasure, you don't hear the footsteps in the hall until the heavy door opens. you freeze, eyes snapping to see who the intruder could be.
an immediate mixture of relief, anticipation, and embarrassment hits you at once when you see the real zuko, standing in all his glory. he pauses at the door, eyes focused on your hand between your legs, a slight pink dusting his cheeks. he quickly snaps out of it, clearing his throat and shutting the door—locking it this time. you keep your hand where it is, watching him through half lidded eyes as he slowly approaches you—gait almost predatory.
he exhales shakily as he sits down on the edge of the bed, gently pulling your hand away from your pussy. he brings it to his face, pressing soft kisses against your knuckles before taking your fingers into his mouth. your clit throbs painfully from arousal, your brows furrowing in desperation. "my love," he finally murmurs, nuzzling his face against your palm. "were you enjoying yourself?"
you can't help but chuckle slightly, cupping his cheek. "i was trying to...but i didn't expect you to be free this early." you respond breathlessly, thumb dragging across his lower lip. he looks down at you, a soft smile gracing his face. "no? have i been too busy as of late?" he whispers, leaning down. you hum out a "mhm" as he presses a kiss to your forehead. his smile grows as he starts kissing you all over your face, eliciting a giggle out of you.
"a little." you admit, trying not to let your disappointment show. you're not disappointed in him, but you know he'll take it as a personal failing. he already feels terrible about how him being the fire lord has impacted your lives, and you're sure that he'd take on a lot more stress to make more time for you if he felt as though he was being negligent.
however, despite your (alleged) nonchalant response, you see the guilt bleed into his expression in real time. panic flooding you, you grab his face and pull him into a rough kiss. he makes a sound of surprise against your mouth, hand shooting out to settle on the bed next to your head. he kisses back, and you slide your hands into his hair. "working too much to keep up with me, hm?" you mend, lifting your hips up to grind against him.
your words and actions make his mind fuzzy, his previous guilt fizzling out and being replaced by extreme lust—so extreme that he can't believe how hard it hit him all at once. he nips at your bottom lip, letting out a murmured curse as he breaks the kiss. "mm, i suppose you're right. leaving my poor wife in such a state..." he breathes, hand sneaking down to run his fingers through the slick collecting between your legs. you whimper desperately at his touch, hips bucking up.
"mhm..." a pleased hum leaving you. "shhh, it's okay..." he whispers, fingers slowly sinking into your heat. "m'sorry, baby. it's okay." he murmurs against your neck, fingers beginning to work you open. his lips against your throat, paired with the practiced rhythm scissoring you open, is so sensual—so perfect. "zuko..."
"yeah, that's it...just relax, my love. can feel how bad you needed this." he coos, also starting to work your clit—keeping it slow so as to not overwhelm you. you whimper, grip loosening in his hair, your entire body becoming boneless as he takes care of you. your thighs, however, stay tense—legs shutting around his hand. he shifts his body to nudge your thighs apart, settling between them.
he gently slots his mouth against yours, the soft kiss a contrast to how you'd roughly grabbed him a few moments ago. it's not long before you start to grow needy, body writhing beneath his, whining into his mouth. "zuko, i need you." you plead breathlessly, panting as he breaks away from you. "m'right here." he replies, kissing your cheek. "i want this to be good...don't wanna rush." he continues, starting to change the pace of his fingers.
your mouth falls open, a long drawn out moan leaving you. zuko kisses your cheek, grinding himself against your thigh while he focuses on your pleasure. experienced and observant, zuko is able to bring you to your peak in record time, mumbling words of affection as he works you through it. you look up at him, dazed from your orgasm, panting softly. he smiles, kissing the corner of your mouth.
"that's it...are you satisfied?" he murmurs teasingly, just wanting to hear you huff. you pout, draping your arms around his neck. "yes and no. i want you, zu...please." you breathe, pulling him into a kiss. he hums, melting into you while he undresses himself. as he settles back down over you, you feel his cock nestled between both of your bodies, pressing against your thigh. he's in no rush, though—continuing to make out with you slow and lazy.
every inch of your body is buzzing with need, you grab his cock almost roughly, drawing out a whine from him. "fuck, wait..." he pants, breaking the kiss to look between your bodies. "can't." you groan, stroking him quickly. he gently pulls your hand away, replacing it with his own. "haah...been too long...i'm sorry." he whispers, nuzzling your cheek as he starts to push in. "fuck, stop apologizing-" you whine, gripping his shoulders. "y'sound so hot..."
he flushes a little at that, huffing. "that's perverted." he breathes, bottoming out. you bite your lip, wrapping your legs around his waist. "uh huh," you reply distractedly, too focused on how deliciously your walls are stretching to fit his cock. he chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "next time you feel this way, tell me. i'd drop everything for you." he promises, pulling out to thrust back in. "mm, i...know." you whisper, clutching at him harder as he starts thrusting. "just don't wanna- fuck! don't...wanna overwhelm you..." you continue.
"you're the only thing in my life that doesn't overwhelm me." he responds, soft voice a contrast to the dirty sounds of his cock drilling into you. the way he's making love to you is so sweet, so intimate—you don't know where you end and he begins. you mouth at his neck when he drops his head to your shoulder, whimpers and gasps forcing themselves out of his mouth. "come on, that's it. you're getting so- ahh fuck...s-so tight..." he stammers.
"mhm- sososo close...don't stop, pleaseee." you plead, tensing around him on purpose. he moans loudly, hips stuttering momentarily before picking back up. "fuck, don't know how i went so long without this...gonna be on my mind for the rest of the day..."
the more he continues to talk against your skin, paired with his thrusts, the closer you're getting. you want to delay it—want to live in this moment for just a little longer, where it's just you and him—but your orgasm hits you so suddenly that you're gasping, back arching up. he moans again, his thrusts slowing but not stopping, a mess against you. as you come down, your body is still twitching a little, finally satiated after weeks of frustration.
he gives you a few more thrusts before stilling against you, spilling into your womb. he gently rolls off you, gathering you into his arms. you drape yourself over him, panting against his chest. "mm, god...i needed that." you whisper. "yeah, me too." he whispers back, gently running his fingers through his hair. "i...actually took a break today to ask if you wanted to go for a walk in the garden but, i think i'd rather lay here." he admits.
you hum happily, shutting your eyes. "you should take breaks everyday."
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Synopsis; Clark was a little rough but he’s making up for it… well not Clark
Pairing; redk!Clark x f!reader
✧*̥˚Smut *̥˚✧
Content warning; women body parts mentioned, after care, pet name, clarks a munch… sweet talk, he says nasty stuff, too short to be this good.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
“Mmm~ “ a pout laid on your lips.
You shuffled under the fluff of your large comforter. Taking up your space of the bed after a long evening.
“What is it angel ?” He averts his attention to you.
You were already half asleep. Every time you had multiple orgasms it drained every ounce of your living and it blanketed you in euphoric relaxation. In some miraculous occurrence it has lasted this long even after you have been cleaned up. He had carried you to the shower and changed the sheets after seeing how tired you were.
However, there was a nagging ache disturbing your other worldly peace. Between your folds lied your swollen vulva with nagging pain of the nights activity.
“You fucked me too hard.” You said in a dead whine.
Some part of you there was pride in the ache. On the other hand, it interrupted your desire to egg on the euphoric peace that has lasted thus long. You’re sure he felt the same way, prideful.
His large hand grazed your skin before lying on your underbelly, rubbing you lightly with his thumb.
“Is that so?”, a slickness to his tone.
You did not care for his current extremely bloated ego. If anything you wanted it gone. It started to pull you farther from your state of peace.
Your eyebrows furrowed and you whined turning on your side to distant yourself from him, physically and emotionally.
You can feel the hurt he faced in your disapproval.
“Tch Okay~ okay~ “ he cooed while gently placed his hand on your hip turning you on your back again. You groaned.
He dived under the sheets. His rough hands lifted and held the underside of your thigh. He settled into position, in between your legs.
Without shame he swiped his tongue compromising your swollen lips.
“I’m sorry for being so rough”
He felt the puffed vulva on his tongue. He continued to lap with a new apology each time. You were pillowy and still warm. Your clit hid itself after so much extraneous work, brute force and overwhelming stimulation. The folds of your vagina also swollen and still wet with its creamy leakage. His tongue collecting them and occasionally stuck it into your entrance to gently pet and soothe its inflamed state.
“Im sorry for being a brute”
“Im sorry that Im asshole”
“Im sorry your pussy sucked me back in with every thrust”
“I’m sorry that your pussy tastes so delicious”
“ I’ll be better next time”
“Make you scream louder”
“Make you feel more”
“Make you cum harder”
At first you sighed in relief. There was something soothing about his warm tongue sliding up between your folds. Licking the wounds he’s caused. But his provocative ‘apologies’ made the soothing begin to feel like pleasure. Despite being highly sensitive, part of you was also numbed, his mouth help you allow yourself to feel soothed.
“Kal” you were partly breathless and falling deeper into your state of rest.
He wrapped his pillow lips around you. Sucking you whole.
Your hand fell, gently grabbing a handful of his hair.
You can feel him smiling against you. He pulled your thigh into his face.
“What is it doll?”
You did nothing but hum. He continued to tend to the ‘wound’. You pulled his hand to your chest to hold onto it. Gentle full laps of his tongue. His lips growing wet, they would glide on you from time to time. The slight growing pleasures, his tongue dipping into you and the warmth of his mouth.
“Hmm?” He’d hum. Those soft vibrating hums.
“Babe?”
…
“Babe?”
You were already unconscious. Your chest raising and falling peacefully in unconscious rest. Blanketed by the euphoric peace.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
Post a/n; y’all should probably start counting how many fandoms I’m in starting from now. This was fun.
❀~900 words, smut/explicit sexual content(18+), dirty talk, overstimulation, dubcon (just to be safe), degradation, rough sex, pet names/name calling(e.g., slut, sweetheart, and baby), condomless sex (wrap it), etc❀
💌: I like the first version I wrote more... might not be the same next time you see it.
་༘࿐18+ 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓓𝓸 𝓝𝓸𝓽 𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽་༘࿐
You try to tilt your hips, a desperate, fluttering movement intended to throw him off—to angle away so he stops hitting that spot, the one that’s got your legs shaking and your brain buzzing with a static charge.
But he catches it. Of course he does.
"Where you runnin’ to?" he rasps, his voice a low, vibrating growl that shivers through your spine like a physical blow. His fingers—calloused, thick, and mapped with those heavy, prominent veins—dig into the soft meat of your hips, squeezing the skin as he anchors you to the mattress.
"Thought you liked it right there." He slams back in, a deliberate, bone-deep thrust that drives his entire weight into that tender, aching spot that’s already got you fucked dumb.
You gasp, your hands scrabbling for something to hold, anything, but he’s relentless. He keeps your hips locked down under the crushing pressure of his palms and grinds into it like he’s trying to ruin you from the inside out.
The sound of your joining is obscene—a wet, rhythmic slap slap slap of skin meeting skin. The friction has turned the slick heat of your arousal into a thick, creamy lather that smears across your thighs and webs between you with every stroke.
"You think I didn’t notice? How you squeeze me every time I hit it? Thought you could hide that?" The words are hot and filthy against your neck. "Nah. That spot's mine now. You hear me? I’m gonna keep hitting it until you can’t remember your own name."
He pulls back just a fraction, the wet, suctioning plop of the air hitting your joining echoing in the room. He leans back on his heels, a dark, amused smirk etching on his face as he looks down at where he’s buried. The thick, pale cream of your arousal is lathered white against his shaft, dripping in heavy, slow beads onto the rumpled sheets.
"Look at that," he coos, his voice dripping with sweet condescension as he reaches down to trace the mess. "Look how messy you are for me. Just a little puddle of need, aren't you? All that talk, and you’re already out of it. Poor thing... you can't help yourself when I'm inside you, can you?"
He doesn't wait for an answer. He leans forward, threading his hand into your hair and yanking your head back to force your eyes to meet his. His eyes are hooded, dark and heavy with a terrifyingly deep sort of hunger. He crushes his mouth against yours in a sloppy, open-mouthed make-out, his tongue clashing with yours as his hips resume their brutal work.
The kiss tastes of salt and heat, his saliva mixing with yours in a messy, desperate exchange. The wet, squelching sounds of him fucking you fill the quiet room, a rhythmic, suctioning squelch that matches the frantic pace of your heart. He fucks you deep and mean, his heavy length stretching you until your vision flares white at the edges.
“Mghn—ahh!” you gasp into his mouth, nails digging into the hard planes of his shoulders while you writhe.
He breaks the kiss, a thin string of saliva connecting you for a heartbeat before it snaps. He watches it break with a slow, mean grin. “You keep trying to run, I’m just gonna chase you deeper. You want me to stop hitting it?” He lets out a dark, breathless laugh, his chest heaving against yours. “Then stop clenching around my dick like a slut.”
You can’t. And he knows it.
He shifts his weight, his arms bracing on either side of your head, and grinds forward in those slow circles again. The head of his dick strikes that spot again, and again, and again. Your mouth hangs open on a silent cry, eyes rolling back as the pressure mounts.
“Oh, you like that,” he says, his mouth twisting into that sharp, condescending smirk that always makes your skin burn. “Course you do. No idea what you’re doing, but your body knows exactly how to take it. Look at you, shaking like a leaf just because I'm giving you what you asked for.”
You whimper, your voice a broken thread. “Mmm—fuck... please…”
“Right there?” he mocks, his voice dripping with derision. “Is that the spot, pretty? You want me to keep fucking you until you cum again?”
You nod, crying now, trembling under the sheer volume of him. He gives it to you—pounding into that same sensitive nerve until you’re sobbing from the overload. Each thrust sends a shockwave through you, thick and heavy, pushing your limits until your legs shake and your mind goes blank.
Another inch. Another thrust. Stretching you open until it burns—until you feel like you’re splitting in two. He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t let you squirm away. He holds you there, breath hot against your neck, whispering how small and helpless you feel under him. You come apart again, sobbing as the orgasm tears through you, leaving your legs useless.
Even as the aftershocks rack your frame, he doesn’t let up. He keeps pounding into you, making sure you’re so full of him that you can’t think of anything else.
“Still with me, sweetheart?”
You nod through the haze of exhaustion. Your body is still twitching, mouth open in a sob you can’t quite finish.
He hasn’t pulled out; he stays buried deep, thick and pulsing in the mess he’s made inside you. He stays there, enjoying the way your walls flutter and seize around him.
He brushes his fingers down your cheek, pulling them away wet with your tears. “You’re still crying” he mutters, his voice dark and low. “Thought you were done. What’s the matter, baby? Too much for you?”
“I—I can’t stop…” you whimper, blinking up at him.
He doesn’t coo. He doesn’t tell you it’s okay. He just presses in deeper, using his weight to anchor you to the bed, his chest a solid wall against your own.
“Too full? Too deep?”
You let out a broken noise of agreement, your head tossing on the pillow. He hums, a low vibration in his chest that you feel in your teeth, then grinds into you again—slow, heavy, and mean. “Good. Stay right there and take every bit of it. I want to feel you try to swallow all of me.”
A cry rips out of you, your back bowing off the mattress as your core clamps down around him in a final, desperate clench. He groans like it’s killing him, his jaw ticking as he drives through the tightness to chase his own edge.
One hand stays locked on your hip, while the other grips your face—not gently. His thumb presses into your cheek, forcing you to look at him. “Eyes on me,” he commands, his voice a fractured, rasp. “I wanna see you.”
You try to focus, blinking hard against the tears. He buries himself one last time, bottoming out with a force that makes you sob, and shudders.
His whole body goes rigid, his muscles turning to stone under your hands as he spills into you, a hot, heavy flood that you feel reaching your very chest. He drops his face into the crook of your neck, his breath hot and broken, and you feel the heavy, grounding weight of him settle over you.
clark "that was a big one, huh? didn't that feel good?" kent that talks filth in your ear while he's playing with your cunt; two middle fingers hooked inside, heel of his palm pressed over your clit. he toys with it, with you — teasing both your mind and pussy as he controls the way in which you feel.
it's not just about your cunt, with him. it's about your mind too. he'd argue that it needs more stimulating than anything else. so when he's playing with your pussy, working you up more and more, he's lips are against the shell of your ear whispering uncharacteristic obscenities like a guide.
he talks to you in such a dulcet tone, words of praise and admiration making you feel the most idolised and most adored. he tells you how good you sound and how pretty you look, speaking it to you like it rolls off his tongue.
and every time that he makes you cum, he's talking you through it, encouraging the rippling feeling within your body with little, "that's it, there we go,"s
when you finally come down from each and every high, he's telling you how good you did and how well you responded to him. only it's followed with a soft question, an ask about your climax and if you, "want another one?" querying whether you have it in you for just one more.
༄ synopsis: aang breaks his promise to you, but spends an entire night doing everything in his power to make it up to you.
༄ tags/warnings: contains explicit smut mdni 18+, you and aang are newlyweds, heavy angst, a yearnful aang (ultimate weakness), soft!dom aang, unprotected!sex (aang: “pull out? why? don’t you love me?”), mock sympathy, some nasty passionate missionary, praise (mostly male!receiving), body worship, manhandling, oral!sex/female receiving (ugh just love an eater that eats for his pleasure), good ol’ fashioned grinding, aang becomes a glow stick yay!, headboard!breaking, improper use of air and fire bending, basically you two get in a fight kiss make up and start repopulating the air nomads, pregnancy!mention, fluff at the end, brief mentions of zutara & sukka!pairing (pls don’t bring any ship wars over here i just want aang for myself), contains elements from the legend of aang movie (so beware of spoilers if you haven’t seen it!)
༄ author’s note: crazy how a bald pretty boi can make me come out of retirement after a 5 yr hiatus… this must say some things about me. (but i mean, aren’t we all still stuck on him going “i’m the last airbender” ? like we can start repopulating right now–) ahem. uhhh anyway! tbh, i haven’t written nor posted a thing for some yrs now so i’m extremely rusty. not to mention this is my FIRST atla fic ever (pls go easy on me. im an og fan, just never written anything for the fandom heh…) eng is also not my first language sooo if you see any mistakes or if anyone’s a bit ooc, just pretend you don’t see it and enjoyy xxx
w.c: 28.1k no beta. we die like my social life.
[note: has been cross-posted on AO3 ༄]
“you don't have to promise me the moon or the stars, just promise me you will stand under them with me.” – danielle p.
“It’s just one month. I’ll be back sooner than you think! No. Hmm…that’s not right... How about, sooner than you can blink!”
“Aang…”
“Trust me, you’ll see.”
“Promise?”
“As the Avatar and as your husband, I promise to come back to you. Don’t worry.”
At least, that was what Aang had told you.
But that was two months ago without a word from him since.
Republic City was many things. Boring was not one of them.
The capital was full of life. It had its usual hustle and bustle from lively merchants advertising their businesses, mischievous children darting through the streets, and the abundance of song and dance that carried through the city as the sun dipped below the horizon.
Daylight was quickly giving way to twilight, and it was thanks to the lanterns that littered the streets that helped you follow the path further into downtown.
Republic City held undeniable beauty during the day. It was a city of life and wonder where all things were made possible, but it was towards nightfall when it was truly able to shine through.
The people of the city twirled to the ratta tap beat of the music, clearly enjoying the presence of one another. They were free to love who they wanted, benders and non-benders alike, and could live however they so chose. In hindsight, it wasn't much but it was reason enough for them to express their happiness and gratitude through singing and dancing.
You were merely thankful that Katara had agreed to stay back and live within the capital instead of with her father and brother at the newly established Southern Water Tribe. She was a part of the city council, like you were, and was your closest friend. If she wasn’t here, you weren’t sure what you would have done without her.
In fact, that was where you were headed now.
Her home was only a couple of blocks away from yours and your husband’s, which you were very thankful for. Even though Republic City was, more or less, safe within its own measures, there was still crime here and there. People that stole from the market square and ransacked shop owners. Not to mention the fact that the Denied remained a pressing issue. It was why Aang never liked when you would leave after dark by yourself. It was dangerous. Even though he could be a bit overprotective at times, he meant well and was right.
Truthfully, that was what made having Katara live so close by such a relief.
Subconsciously, your arms stiffened around the warm basket of food that you cradled against your chest as you moved quickly through the dimming streets.
When you turned another corner, your eyes gleamed, looking up at the towering building in front of you. Katara’s home was three stories high, and had several lanterns strung up. It was a lot of space for just one person, but she tended to have company over so it was actually quite convenient.
You could smell the fresh scent of jasmine and the warmth from the hearth inside. You didn’t waste another second and stepped up to the door, giving it a clean knock in three’s.
A few seconds went by before the door swung open. When her familiar face peeked from behind the door, a smile quickly found its way to yours.
“Hey! Took you long enough. Get caught up in all of the usual festivities?” Katara teased, giving you a fond smile back before she pulled you into a hug.
Not giving you a moment to respond, she ushered you in and closed the door behind her.
“Sorry about the mess. I’ve been moving some things around. Sokka said he’s bringing some things from home and begged me to make room so–” She spread her arms out to show her progress with a sheepish smile. “I made room.”
Katara had a unique style about her that was unlike anyone you had ever met. She was creative and stylish, yet had this comforting homey feeling about the way she decorated her home—something that never failed to fill you with dread when it was time to part ways.
There were several pieces and such that were previously made sprawled around the large space. They were all from her home, things that meant something to her. Things that were given to her by the children in the villages, and trinkets that Sokka made for her. He liked to tell her that they would become useful someday. Usually, they didn't but she appreciated his little farewell gifts either way.
You could tell that some of it was put up, but it would seem that she’d managed to keep the more meaningful ones out in view. A beautiful pot of jasmines sat comfortably in the window that was near her balcony. They had been a birthday gift from you. Something for her to look after and care for while she remained apart from what was soon going to be her new future.
You were enlightened to know that the flowers were flourishing.
“Yeah,” you exhaled, catching her gaze. “A lot of room, I see.”
Katara shrugged, some of her long dark hair falling over her shoulder. “Well, you know. Sokka asks, I deliver.”
You hummed and nodded with a knowing smile on your lips as you followed the familiar path to the cooking area of her home.
“Oh, yeah. Of course. I mean, you making all of this space has absolutely nothing to do with your betrothed. The same one that is on his way here from the fire nation as we speak. No, no. Surely not,” you jested, settling the still-warm basket of baked goods down on a nearby surface.
You didn’t need to look over your shoulder to know that she had followed you with her lip fit between her teeth and that flustered glint in her eyes. She was easy to read whenever it came to her and Zuko’s relationship.
Speaking of which, it was never made clear when Katara and Zuko became a thing.
Toph once mentioned that it had happened a year or so after the hundred-year war ended. Sokka had taken a more…romantic approach. He preferred to remember it as love at first sight. Or, more knowingly when Zuko first arrived at the Southern Water Tribe, looking for the Avatar. Katara never bothered to correct nor deny either of them. When asked, she simply said,
“Zuko and I… Let’s just say that there was a mutual understanding between us, even as friends. Time is a funny thing. You really start getting to know someone when the world is ending. Or…beginning, I should say.”
At the time, you didn’t know him all that well but Zuko on the other hand…
“Katara is the moon, a light and beacon when the world around me got too dark to see. She has anchored me and I only wish to remain by her side, for as long as she will have me.”
Aang, on the other hand, was the most surprising one.
His support of their relationship had always confused you. Of course, you’d joined the group well after the war and the building of Republic City, but you became close enough to understand their dynamics and history together. His feelings for Katara was made out to be quite strong. Strong enough to see a future together. You could never understand what had happened between them and why they were not still together, but it meant little to you when you'd realized how happier they were apart.
Not to mention that, within a few months, Katara was going to be fire lady of the fire nation. Added that she would also continue to act as one of the council members for Republic City as well as back at the Southern Water Tribe.
It was clear, for both her and Aang, that there were no romantic feelings between them. They died the day they realized they wanted different things but, in place, something else was born.
A friendship that they knew would last several lifetimes over.
It was never like you needed the reassurance of knowing that they no longer had feelings for each other. It was never about that. You loved Aang, but always wanted the best for Katara. So it warmed your heart to know that she was happy.
She deserved it.
“Spirits, enough about me. We have to talk about you.”
Your expression fell a bit, feeling the color drain from your face. The last thing you wanted to do nowadays was talk about you. In fact, keeping all subjects away from you was what, somehow, helped make the days bearable.
Except, Katara had this way about her that wasn't exactly intrusive because she cared about you and could feel when things were off with you. However, she tended to meddle more than you wanted. Especially when she knew that something was wrong, even if you promised her differently.
And well, she was never exactly wrong. It wasn't as if things had been all that great since...
“If this is about Aang, then–”
“Yes. It is.”
You paused.
"Katara.”
“Come on–”
“I honestly would prefer not to really talk about it.”
There was a sharp finality to your tone that made Katara give you a puppyish look. You let out a heavy breath, feeling exhaustion seep into your bones like it'd belonged there. Then again, did it not?
At least it made you feel something other than hurt or angry.
“Aang does this all the time," Katara tried to reassure you. "He’s the Avatar. He’s a busy guy. A lot of people are counting on him to help keep the balance of the world. Without that and peace, I’m not sure where things would be right now. There’s also a lot of people that need him–”
“And I don’t?”
Your interruption made her stop and blink.
You should've stopped it then and there, but there was an impulse inside of you. It felt like it was trying to claw its way from your throat, and you weren't able to catch it in time.
"I know the Denied are an issue and I knew that there were going to be people that would need his help along the way but it’s been two months, Katara. No letters, no word. I don't even know if he's okay or not. I don't know anything, and that’s what hurts me the most."
The silence between you and her managed to smother the sounds of the crackling hearth from the other room. The longer that you stood in silence, the easier it was for a wave of regret to burrow itself down deep into your chest.
There was nothing that you loved more than being by Aang’s side and supporting him through all of his endeavors. This was his purpose, his reason for existing. You knew this, and yet—
You knew how that had sounded. It was…selfish, on a grand scale of things. Aang was the Avatar. He was who the people of the world depended on the most, even for the most minute of reasons. If they called, he answered, always. But, for some reason, the importance of who he was—
It was taking a toll on you.
“Sorry. That was completely unnecessary.” You turned and pressed your back against the edge of the counter, your eyes glued to the floor. “I don’t know. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No,” Katara shook her head, and walked over to place a gentle hand on your arm. She sighed. “You don’t need to apologize. You have every right to feel the way that you do.”
When you looked up, you were met with soft cerulean eyes that gave you more reassurance than you felt you deserved.
“You love him and miss him, a lot. I know the feeling. So don’t invalidate yours by apologizing for something that you can’t necessarily control.”
“I do,” you agreed, fighting the inner turmoil within you. “I do love him, but that still shouldn’t excuse how I’ve been feeling. He’s out there, alone. Sure he can handle himself but he’s...”
A sting to your eyes, a burn to your nose and suddenly your vision started to blur. It only frustrated you more because there was nothing worse than feeling sorry for yourself than crying when you felt you were wrong.
“To me, he’s not the Avatar, Katara.”
You looked at her, ignoring the way your unshed tears made you see the look on her face.
“He’s my husband, and I want him home. I don’t care about the Denied or any other group of criminals. I just want Aang home.”
Katara felt her heart tug down to the shallows of her stomach.
“Hey…”
She pulled you into a hug, feeling your tears dampen her shirt.
“I know,” she nodded. “I know.”
Because if anyone could understand where you were coming from, it was always going to be Katara.
For the past two months, Aang had been on a long and arduous mission somewhere in the Earth Kingdom trying to find out more information on the exact location of the Denied.
Within the last year, there had been several reports that began to surface across entire villages within the Earth Kingdom that were quietly siding with the Denied. Murmurs of a mutual understanding and rebellion against the benders of the world. There were also reports of supply routes disappearing and the Earth Kingdom officials who were being threatened or worse, vanishing completely. No one knew who was leading them, only that they were growing bolder and larger.
Aang was analytical. He knew that they never tended to stay in one place for long so he figured that if he could find their hidden headquarters, he would have access to their current whereabouts or, at the very least, know their next move.
That was what his last letter said to you before they had stopped coming altogether.
Perhaps that was what aided the storm that had been brewing inside of you. The same one that had been creating a monsoon of thoughts and emotions that you would have normally swallowed down in favor of giving Aang your continued patience and support. Even from a distance now forced between the two of you.
And the thing was, you did understand. The Denied were becoming a very serious threat and you knew that he was truly the only one that could sort this without violence and penance.
Your husband was the Avatar, the most important man on the planet. How much more selfish could you be?
“Thank you Katara,” you said and managed to give her a tender smile as you pulled back from her embrace, silently hoping that it was convincing enough to ease her worries.
“Now,” you sniffled, taking a breath. “I believe that we have a lot to talk about with this wedding of yours coming up. Wanna make the tea and I’ll plate some of the homemade sweet buns I brought?”
For a split second, Katara’s brows twitched inward. As if it had been the trick of the room's gentle glow, she smiled warmly and gave you a nod.
“Yeah. Sounds good.”
When you turned to do just that, her face fell.
She knew that look all too well. You were doing it again. You were letting that vulnerable part of yourself decide to crawl back into the cold shadows of your mind where you felt it was safest. It always hurt when you did it with her. She wanted you to feel safe enough to tell her how you felt and rely on her to help alleviate the pain you carried of constantly wondering if you were still a wife or now a widow. It was not easy, of course she knew that. But, still...
She watched you pull two serving dishes from the cabinet and place a few of the sweet buns onto them. When you turned to check on her, she made herself busy by snagging the tea kettle from a lower compartment and filled it with water. You sent her a smile from over your shoulder, and she noticed that it barely met your eyes.
Katara smiled back and turned around, sighing quietly to herself.
Aang, she spoke from the confines of her mind, shutting her eyes. Please come home.
After a rather long talk about wedding plans, council member work and bellies full of a few sweet buns and tea, the sky completed its final cycle and descent into nightfall.
It was time to head back home and just like every night since you were left alone, you dreaded it.
Without Aang, home no longer felt like home. It lacked the warmth and luminance that your lively husband tended to bring with him. Where it felt as though the sun encompassed the space, once he was gone, he left behind a cold and dark cloud that seemed to engulf everything within reach. Like a black hole that only knew how to consume until there was nothing left.
The thought of having to return back to that only made your stomach turn. He should be here. He should be home, with you.
But he wasn’t.
When you made it to the foyer of her home, you were pulled into another hug but tighter this time. Katara squeezed you as if she, too, knew what you were you going back to.
“Promise me that you’ll come back over the day after tomorrow,” She said, just above a whisper next to your ear. “Sokka’s going to want to see you and Zuko too. Honestly, not seeing you for a day will kill me but I have that council meeting about the trades from back home tomorrow…”
Slowly but firmly, you circled your arms around her form, giving her a promising nod.
“Don’t worry. I will.”
When you separated and walked out, you could feel pieces of her home trying to pull you back in. It also knew.
Katara sent you a small wave, and watched you disappear back into the streets of the city, headed down the familiar darkened path to what you still managed to call home.
As if the universe was aware of your desolate mood, it began to rain.
You couldn't help but stop where you were, craning your neck up to the sky. It started with a few drops along your cheeks until the rain fell in sheets, soaking you from head to toe. However, you didn't move. Not even when those that were leisurely walking the streets, likely going back home as well, gasped and jogged the rest of the way, seeking warmth and shelter.
It was the middle of fall, and it was raining. Usually the city would see a few snow-scares before winter finally came around but rain at this time of the year was rare.
A brief sigh left your lips as you closed your eyes, and continued to stand in the middle of the street, ignoring the feeling of your clothes sticking to you like a second skin. Then, you smiled.
Memories of the last time you were caught in the rain resurfaced and helped you remember one of the last moments that you'd had with Aang.
༄ ... flashback ... ༄
"What about this?"
Aang took a brief glance at you from over his shoulder before he released an airy breath.
"Not everything's going to be something worth taking back home, my love." He smiled and turned back to what he was doing.
You raised a brow, and studied the artifact for a moment.
Under the warm glow of a nearby lantern, you held up long, thin pieces of metal that were suspended at uneven lengths and had fading, almost smooth-looking air nomad glyphs carved onto them. There were some parts of it that had green weathering areas from decades of mountain snow and rain exposure while others had small dents along the edges. The metal parts were divided by tiny beads that were carved from pale wood and chimed quietly together when the wind stirred well enough. They produced a soft hollow sound. It was almost…haunting.
That was when you heard Aang shift to look at you again but this time, his face paled.
He sucked in a breath and held it as he turned to face you. His eyes were wide and on the chimes that you were still holding.
"Is that..."
You watched the way his fingers twitched at his side, almost as if he wanted to reach out to touch it but was afraid to.
"That's... Those are prayer chimes."
He moved closer to you, and finally raised a hand to gently brush along the dusty beads. His eyes were glossy, even under such poor lighting.
"The monks used to use these for mediation and mourning. I haven't heard the sound of these since before the war. Since I was a child."
His voice was barely above a whisper and if you weren't paying such close attention, you would've missed it.
When his eyes shifted onto you, your heart sunk.
"Oh, Aang..."
He brought a hand up to his temples and rubbed them before turning back around. Memories of his old mentor and best friend, Gyatso, surfaced.
Times where Aang would mediate with him and hear those same chimes from the archway of the room. How, on nights where it was difficult for Aang to sleep, the old monk would let him rest in his room while the soft ringing of the chimes lulled him to sleep, finally ridding his mind of the nightmares that ailed him.
Flashes of the past began to filter through his mind, glimpses of his old friend, of the children that he played with, of the joy and the laughter. All of it came rushing back, the dreams of his memories that had been haunting him every night were colliding with his waking mind. It was so surreal, he could hardly tell what was real anymore.
It was like they were there, all of them; he could hear them as if he was there again, back at the Southern Air Temple, enjoying his youth with his friends and the one monk that never saw him as the Avatar. Just Aang, a boy that met a worldly responsibility at an age where all that should have mattered to him was being a kid. In the face of what truly came to matter, he got scared and ran away.
If he hadn’t run away, if he had chosen to stay and fight what was inevitably coming, would his people have survived or would he have just died trying?
Aang knew that it was pointless to still dwell on. It was far too late now.
And it was because of this that he would always see himself as a coward, the coward that ran away yet still called himself the Avatar.
How foolish, and undeserving he was.
Without another thought, you gently placed the chimes back on the surface where you found them and slid your arms around his waist, holding him. You pressed your cheek against the warmth of his back, and closed your eyes.
"We'll take them with us. We'll take as much as Appa can carry, okay?"
You opened your eyes and tried to peek around Aang's broad form to see his face. You knew that he was crying. You saw it in his eyes before he looked away, and you could see it now. He was still covering his face, but you could see the traces of tears that started to fall. You could also feel him trembling, and not from the draft curling through the room.
It pained him to be here. It pained him to be in any of the air temples but more so with having you riding along with him. He never liked to show you the weakest parts of him, but being in these places... In the places that held the memory of his people that were long gone and only here through his own memories—it was a kind of pain that couldn't be put into words.
"I'm sorry," you heard him say, watching him shake his head. "This was meant to be a bonding trip for us. I didn't mean to ruin it by getting all sad and emotional."
Your heart nearly stopped. You pulled back just to turn him back around so that you could see him clearly. You reached up and pried his hands away, finding his teary eyes and red-splotched cheeks utterly heart-breaking.
You took his face in your hands, and rubbed away the falling tears.
"Never apologize for having emotions ever again, Aang, do you hear me? I can't bear it. You are allowed to feel exactly how you feel. No matter what emotion that is, it's okay."
He looked at you with such softness and vulnerability, it almost broke you into a million pieces.
"My love, we are two halves of a whole. I share your pain while you share mine. I know that you wanted to come here and show me pieces of your past, but please don't apologize when the memories get too much to bear. As your wife, I am meant to carry that weight with you. Never forget that."
A distant rumble of thunder shuddered and rattled around the old temple, causing some of the ancient wood to creak and groan. It coincided with the storm that simmered at the edges of Aang's mind. Yet, looking at you while placed into the delicate palms of your hands grounding him—he felt it all wash away. The darkness that filled him began to descend and retreat back into the shadows of his mind until all he could see and hear was you.
Aang lifted a hand to cover one of yours, giving you a warm and familiar smile.
"What would I do without you?"
"Mmm," you smiled back. "I don't know. Miss me?"
"You're right." He let out a low chuckle before he pulled you in closer, one hand on your waist while the other covered the back of your hand that was still against his face. His big grey eyes were back to their usual playfulness and you knew exactly what was on his mind.
"Aang, its going to storm soon."
"Mhm."
"Sooo."
He smirked, his eyes moving down to your lips.
"Sooo?"
You tried to hold back a roll of your eyes, but ultimately failed. He laughed as you sighed.
"You're such a handful, you know that?"
Aang lowered his head until his lips were just a breath away from yours. You could practically feel the smile on his lips as he said,
"Yeah, and you wouldn't have it any other way."
The moment that you took a breath, he wasted no time and pressed his lips against yours, swallowing it whole. You gave in and melted against him, moving your arms to wrap around his neck. You closed your eyes, and imagined a world where it was just you and him living endlessly, eternally bound to one another until the end of time and the life thereafter.
You knew that you did not hold the power to rewind time and bring all of his people back. But, what you did have was hope. You would help him build back what he had lost the best way you knew how and that was by focusing on what was still here rather than mourn what was now lost.
It started with you, him, and a lot of dusty old airbender relics…which had to be put on pause the moment that you felt his lips trail from the curve of your jaw to your neck.
"Aang," you whined.
"Shhh."
He switched places so that your back was in line of an old rickety table, and placed his hands at your waist to lift you up onto it. When it wobbled and creaked, both of you shared a wide eyed look before giggling together.
"If this comes down with me on it, me and appa will leave you here."
Aang chuckled lowly as he mapped his wide hands along your thighs, moving between them, close to the warmest part of you. His lips ghosted yours again as a mild distraction and without you noticing, he bended the air, parting your legs to slot himself right in the middle of them.
Your breath hitched when you felt him grip your thighs to pull you right up against him, feeling a desperate ache below your navel stir awake.
He hummed.
"Then I'll make sure I'm real gentle. Don't worry," and claimed your lips again, groaning at the muffled whine at the back of your throat with terrible plans of wrecking you and that feeble ol' table.
When both of you were finally dressed again and Aang told you that it was time to head back home, it began to pour with rain.
Before you and Aang had set out in search of ancient airbender relics at the old northern air temple, the sky was clear of clouds and any other indication of rain. Now, there wasn't a hint of blue left. There were just dark grey clouds and buckets of cold rain cascading down.
Once all of the old relics that the two of you could fit in your satchels were full, Aang whistled for Appa. The large bison roared in the distance and came barreling through the sky, landing a few feet in front of you.
"Come on, let's get back home before it gets worse!"
He took your wrist and tried to pull you along but was met with a bit of resistance. Worried and confused, he looked back at you with furrowed brows.
"Are you okay? What's wrong?"
There was nothing about you that alarmed him other than the way you were looking around. Well, then there was the apprehension in your voice too.
"I don't know, Aang. You know what they say about flying in storms like this. Plus, we're going to be soaking wet. I think I'll pass on that."
All of the tension that quickly coiled under his skin fell away. He smirked, quirking a brow.
"What? Scared of a little water? The same woman that managed to hold her own against a fire bender and a few lightning attacks? Who are you and what did you do to my wife?"
Without looking down, he felt your hand tighten around his. There was a new air of determination about you that made him fight back a smile. He always knew how to get to you. He just had to press the right buttons, and so he did.
"Let's go," you muttered and with a faint yelp from him, you tugged him out to Appa and saddled up. When you grabbed the reins and looked down at him wearing an impatient expression on your face, he finally smiled to himself.
"Yes ma'am," and used the air around him to push off on the balls of his feet up onto Appa as well, sitting right behind you. Even though both of you were soaked through, he still wrapped his arms around your waist, suctioning the front of his body against the back of yours. He felt you stiffen, and watched the way your hands gripped at the reins. He smirked again, and looked ahead. "Appa, yip yip!"
And then you were off, headed back home.
༄ ... end of flashback ... ༄
When the memory faded and you opened your eyes, you felt the wind begin to pick up, ruffling your clothes and the shutters on the houses around you.
It was definitely time to head back home.
Once you'd made it through the entrance, you made a face, finally feeling the heaviness of your clothes. Eagerly, you peeled off each article and hung them up in the entryway to dry. With each pad of your feet towards your shared bedroom, you left behind a trail of wet footprints that you made a mental note to clean up when you were all washed and dried.
As you stood underneath the copper rainfall-style pipe and let the warm water roll off of your body in steady trails, you could feel your mind begin to wander.
Weeks of waiting to hear back from Aang, and nothing. No letters from his wind-swallow messenger nor any word from any of your connections in the Earth Kingdom. Not even from the one person that would’ve sent you an update the moment she caught wind of his name. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to dig for information from Toph. She just didn’t have anything worth noting to give you.
It was nerve wracking having to wait. To worry and spend almost every single night curled up in a ball in a bed that no longer even smelled like him anymore. It felt like each day came to erase him, piece by piece, until time left you with nothing but what he was. Not as the Aang you'd come to know, but as the Avatar instead.
You had half a mind to set out to his last known location to search for him, but Katara stopped you before you could do it. She’d told you that she understood why you wanted to go, but that it wouldn’t help the situation. Especially if, when he did come back, he came back to an empty home and to the news that you were dead, thousands of miles where no one would ever find you.
You understood that it was not because you were weak or unable to handle your own out there. It was simply because there was not a single person alive that didn’t know who you were, unless they lived under a rock. Everyone knew you were the Avatar’s wife, which made you worth as much as Aang. It made you into a target.
Katara was truly your voice of reason; why you decided to stay put and wait instead. You couldn’t bear hurting Aang that way or ever at all. Plus, you were brave but you were not stupid either.
As painful as it was to sit and be patient, it was your only option.
When the water began to shift temperatures, you decided that it was best to finish washing up and finally get dry.
Once you stepped out of the stone-clad bathroom and into the main bedroom, it was hard to ignore the emptiness around you.
During Aang’s absence, you’d made several attempts at keeping the space well-kept and full of the same vibrance that he was so naturally gifted with. From leaving a few ancient nomad scrolls in one corner of the room to keeping an incense lit in the other. It was always the same scent. Cedarwood and Juniper. He’d once told you that it would help him quiet his thoughts. To rest his mind so that he could meditate in peace.
Your brows furrowed, staring at the meditation corner. Try as you might, but it would seem that dust was drawn to the places where he lingered the most. Maybe it was meant to haunt you worse than the memories and the nightmares. You see, dust was something that you could see. What your mind often conjured were things that you could blink away or distract yourself from.
Something physical, on the other hand…
It only served as a cruel reminder that you were alone and had been for a while.
Your feet crossed the room without much sound, flitting about the room like you were just remnants of a person; a ghost in your own home. Once your skin was dry and lathered in its usual oils, you spotted something from the corner of your eye. On the dresser rested a folded heap of orange and yellow fabric. Your heart clung to the cage in your chest as you took in a slow breath, and shuffled over. As delicately as you were capable, you pulled it down and watched it unravel before you.
It was one of Aang’s robes. It was one that he wore when he was at home and could shuck off his everyday wear to replace it with something that didn’t remind him of his duties as the Avatar. You’d made it for him one day, and he had worn it ever since.
When you rose it up to the tip of your nose, you could still smell bits of him.
“I just want to know that you’re safe. That’s all.”
Maybe Aang was safe, he just couldn’t send his messenger, but you selfishly wished that he would just so you could know something.
With a sigh, you placed it back in the same neat fashion the robe was previously in before dressing in your night gown. It wasn’t completely see-through but just enough to keep your skin cool from the hot temperatures of your shower and the mugginess luring in from the outside rain.
After you cleaned up the wet footprints from the entryway, you decided that another hot cup of tea would help you rest for the night. Or, at the very least, settle your cloudy mind.
Luckily, you still had some jujube-ginger tea left over from earlier in the morning and heated the kettle up atop the warming flame. It was going to be a few minutes so you crossed back into the common room for a moment, and opened a few windows along with the balcony doors. For a brief second, you stood there and watched the rain fall.
Aang always did prefer some of the windows opened, especially when it was nice outside and the wind was blowing. He loved the home more when there was fresh airflow coming through but with the rain, it felt cold; much like how everything else around you did.
With a sigh, you turned and chose to take a seat near the lowered table on a fluffed cushion. The silence was welcoming, but the emptiness was not. You brought your legs up so that you could rest your chin on your knees, and stared out at the balcony doors.
During the first week after Aang left for his mission, you started looking for him to come dropping back in on the balcony. The two of you had a wrap-around balcony but he preferred to come in where you could see him. So you would wait up, every night, until you began to realize that he wasn’t going to be coming back home anytime soon.
You’d told yourself that every week but when it got to be a month and a half, you stopped looking for him completely. You went about your days as if he was already gone and in a way, that was what it felt like. It felt like a loss, even though the better part of you knew that he was still out there.
Or, at least, you'd hoped so.
Hope was a funny thing sometimes but it kept you from doing something stupid like going out and finding him yourself, despite what Katara said. Who knows if you would like what you found anyway...
Still waiting for the whistle of the kettle, you shifted and was about to reach for a book you’d started recently reading when your eyes caught a few scattered pieces of half-rolled up paper on the table. Your brows furrowed, and reached for them instead.
When you unraveled one of them, you felt a wave of sadness crash into you. It was all of Aang’s letters to you. Well, the ones that he'd sent before they stopped coming.
You sifted through them until you came upon the first one he’d sent and sniffled, pulling a spare blanket over your legs as you started to read through them all over again.
༄ hey baby, it’s me! well…guess you already know that by the bird huh? by the time you read this, i’ll already be pretty close to the border of the earth kingdom. i wish i could give you more than that but you know how easily these letters can fall into the wrong hands. anyway, i miss you… so much. these past few nights have been so lonely without you… momo and appa would bite my head off if they could read this but it’s not the same without you
but i hope the necklace i gave you makes up for my absence, just until i get back yeah?
wait for me. i will be home, soon
– A
As you read through it, you'd subconsciously reached up and fiddled with the necklace that hung around your neck. It was the only piece of jewelry that you never took off, not even when you bathed. It was the only thing that you had left of him, other than his robe.
You didn’t realize that you were crying until you noticed a dark wet spot on the parchment. You cleared the tears away, and shuffled the papers so that you could read the next few.
༄ my love, my sweet love, how are you?
i got your letter, don’t worry, i just haven’t had time to get back to you because guess what? i found a clue on where they are! well, actually, sorry i forgot to mention that i’m here in the earth kingdom now and actually met up with toph. enjoyed seeing her again but sadly she didn’t have any info on you know who sooo, i went out and did my own digging and actually found something!
it was details about another hideout but it really feels like i’m getting closer which means i should be home soon! exciting right? to see your face again, to hold you and kiss you… it’s all i dream about. well, when i get to sleep that is. sleeping hasn’t been all that easy lately…
sorry that this letter is longer than the last. i’ll work on that. just got too excited to talk to you but i know we will talk again and next time, i hope to have better news. until then…
– A
Thankfully, the hearth in the common room you were in had still been on when you’d left earlier to go see Katara. It kept you warm as you sat there, on the floor, reading through old letters and reopening old wounds.
With another quiet sniffle, you moved on to the next and final one that almost made you break down while reading it.
༄ hi love.
i don't want to scare you but...momo isn’t doing well. i’m not sure when he started to feel sick or how or from what and i was close to turning back but he’s in toph’s care right now and i’m closer than ever on the group's whereabouts. appa is doing ok, don’t worry. me on the other hand…
it’s been storming a lot here. you know i’m not a big fan of storms but even without you here to keep me calm, i’ve been managing.
i want to come back home. i really do. it’s all i think about now but i know i cant. i have to make sure this group is no longer a threat to our home, to you. you understand that…right?
pls don’t give up on me. i WILL be home soon. i made you that promise didn’t i? do you still believe in it? pls say that you do.
i do…
i can’t say when i will be able to write to you again but hopefully you’ll see me in person so we won’t have to rely on these little pieces of paper.
i love you. so much. you are my heart and my everything. i know i have already asked so much of you but pls continue to wait for my return.
talk soon,
– A
Before you knew it, you were sobbing.
Horribly.
The letters were scattered around you when you tugged the blanket up to your face, crying into it. It felt like your heart was breaking into two all over again. Every part of you felt hollow and in so much pain, you could hardly move. Your body shook and trembled, curling into yourself until you felt like the smallest thing in the room.
The battle of knowing that Aang held the world on his shoulders as the Avatar but doubled as your husband and was only trying to do what was right, weighed heavily on you. It felt silly to be so upset just because you missed him but you also knew that it was not only that. It was how worried you were for him. He was never someone that would not communicate, even if it was just a two-sentence letter. What if something really did happen to him? What if you’d spent all this time crying and being angry at him when there was a real possibility that he might have been…
You shook your head and dug your fingers into your legs, pushing your face further into your knees. No, you told yourself. Aang was fine. He was strong and more than capable of taking care of himself. He’d fought many to make Republic City into what it was. He’d even fought a spirit just to fight for his claim over the land itself. Even through the times that he lost, he got back up and kept fighting until he won.
That was your Aang. That was the man that you fell in love with and trusted more than anything. He told you to wait. He promised that he would return to you. You knew this and believed in it, in him.
So why were you doubting him now?
Was it the absence? The unknowing of where he was and if he was really okay? The cut of communication and no information from Toph? The same person that Aang said he'd seen in his letter to you before he had just...disappeared?
You tried to rationalize some of your thoughts before they got too dark. Toph, more than likely, didn't give you any deep information on his whereabouts because it came in a correspondence and was not a conversation that was done in person. You remembered that letters were intercepted all of the time. It did no one any favors for outsiders to know that the Avatar was gone and had left his defenseless wife, at home, all by herself.
Toph was looking out for you and her friend, Aang. It was the only thing that made sense.
You gave yourself a few more moments before you decided to light one of the incenses that Aang used, if not to breathe and bring you momentary peace. Once that was done, the tea kettle squealed hot on its open flame, grabbing your attention. When you gathered the letters and placed them back on the table, you went to check on the tea.
As you poured yourself a cup, the aroma whirled around the space and blended with the scent of the incense, calming your mind and your body in one. For a moment, you allowed yourself the opportunity to think of nothing. To stand in place, and just breathe.
The one thing you’d forgotten to do in your husband’s absence was meditate. Frankly, it was something that you did together. You knew it was often best to do it alone, but you loved being near him in a pocket of silence to sit, breathe, and feel the things around you. He once told you that meditating was not always a way to connect with his past lives. He mostly did it for himself. To ground himself when he needed it most.
Aang was far from perfect. He had just as many flaws as the next person and knew, through meditating, he could find himself again. Especially during his hardest moments.
You wondered if he ever found the chance to meditate while being away. If there was time for him to just be alone with his thoughts and connect back with the air around him. To try and reach out to you the way you’d tried with him in your dreams.
The thought pulled a smile from you. You pictured him sitting in a cross-legged fashion, fists together with a particularly concentrated expression on his face before it turned into a cute pout. Maybe the demands around him kept him from truly being able to focus. Upon people seeing him, there was no telling what kind of side quests he was put on. It was like him to get sidetracked in favor of helping those that needed it along the way.
You took the opportunity to splash a bit of cool water onto your face to subdue any puffiness that might come from your earlier moment of crying and took your tea back into the common room, crossing out to the balcony.
The rain had lightened to a soft pitter-pat with a few rumbles of thunder in the distance. It would seem that the worst of it was well over and left behind a soft soothing ambience to close out the night.
You were appreciative. The rain never bothered you. In fact, you enjoyed storms. It provided enough noise to shut out the bad thoughts, and it tended to fill the home in a way that made you feel less alone.
As soon as you were about halfway through your cup of tea, you set it down and glanced at a few pots of flowers next to you. Your eyes softened. Wind lilies. On one of your first trips out to the Southern Air Temple, there were only a few left that were healthy enough to take back with you and since then, they’d been thriving wonderfully. It was only due to your frequent tending that they had managed to survive for so long. Still, most flowers, especially brought from one region to live in another, would struggle to acclimate to a different climate. These, on the other hand…
“Thank you for sticking it out with me,” you bent to meet the lilies eye to eye, smiling. “My little troopers.”
Moments of Aang struggling to remember to water them half of the time almost made you giggle. He had many talents, but tending to flowers was definitely not one of them. Funny, considering he was the master of patience. However,
“C’mon,” Aang whined, half of his lumbering body hanging across the balcony railing. “You know I’m not good at that stuff. Flowers require too much work.” You smiled, rolled your eyes and continued watering them. He then grinned and made his way over to you, wrapping his arms around you. “Not that it matters when they’ve got such a good mama to do it though, huh?”
“Aang, you’re impossible.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled, lips against your neck. “I know.”
A sigh left your lips as you studied the flowers a bit closer. There were a few dead leaves that needed trimming and you decided that since you were having some trouble sleeping and was waiting for the tea to kick in anyway, why not cut them now? So, you grabbed a pair of brass trimming shears that were near the flower pots and got to work.
The tranquility of the soft rain, the surrounding city lanterns and the smell of the wind lilies filled your chest with a warmth that you hadn’t felt in a while. You were not often rewarded with nights like this. The ones where you weren’t constantly being haunted and tormented with dreams that would urge you awake, night after night. No, this was one of those nights where you'd almost felt at peace with yourself. Where being at home didn’t feel as though it was draining you. Things almost felt…right.
So, you allowed yourself this momentary feeling of freedom from it all and started to hum as you trimmed, remembering a tune from your childhood. In the stillness of your mind, you'd missed the way the air shifted around you. A breeze that was not there moments ago was now brushing at the ends of your hair like a familiar touch that you’d become unfamiliar with.
Gentle as a breeze, and unbeknownst to you, Aang landed on the other side of the western curve of the balcony that was near the bedroom. He closed his glider, set it to the side, and stepped inside while being as careful and as silent as he could. In truth, it was never very difficult for him. He tended to walk as if his feet hardly ever touched the ground, but he could feel the exhaustion creeping up on him.
It had been a long and grueling journey back home.
Momo finally started to feel well enough to travel so once Aang was able to settle things back at the Earth Kingdom, he knew that it was time to head back. For the first few hours, he had been overly excited. He was coming back home, coming back to you, his sweet little wife, but with the lack of sleep and all of the stress that he had underwent—it was no wonder his footsteps landed on spots in the wood flooring that they normally would not have. They creaked underneath him but he figured that you were probably deep in sleep and wouldn't notice.
When he finally rounded into the bedroom, he discarded all of his damp clothing and slid on a pair of warm loose sleeping pants that he let hang low on his hips. He was fully prepared to slip into bed and cozy up next to you when he noticed that the bed was made as if you hadn't slept yet. It was strangely untouched, almost as if you'd never even acknowledged it at all. Were you not home?
Sporting a small pout, Aang peeked his head into the washroom but was met with the same silence and darkness he'd walked into when he came in.
Softly, he called your name as he moved towards the kitchen area and...nothing. He frowned, but wasn't at the stage of concerned yet. Especially since there was clearly a warm kettle of tea that was left on the warmer. He brushed the back of his hand against it. He was right. You couldn't have made the tea that long ago, so you were close by. He was sure of it.
He was always good at finding you. That was never a problem.
It just helped when he could...cheat a little.
When he stepped into the common area, he circled his fingers through the air, bending the flow of the current to his will so that he could feel for your presence. Since the windows and the balcony doors were open, it was easy for air to travel through the home and wind throughout, being able to cover the entire upper floor before he took his next breath. Suddenly, the torrent of air stopped. His eyes widened, and a warm smile curved at his lips.
There you were.
Before he could walk out to the balcony to you, he heard the sound of paper shuffling to the floor. Curious, he turned and saw what was there. He bent at the knees and with a crease to his forehead, his eyes swept over the pages.
Letters. His letters to you.
Even though he remembered what he had wrote to you, he read over them, ignoring the way his chest flooded with a sinking feeling. They were hard to read, being back home now. He'd missed you, a lot, but didn't want to even imagine how his long and silent absence affected you.
He sighed and dropped his hand, still holding the letters. His eyes traveled over to the hearth that was still aflame, and felt a chill along his naked spine. Maybe he should have rushed the mission. He knew he needed more information on the Denied but was all of it worth it in the end? If you were still up at this late hour and was drinking jujube-ginger tea while rereading all of his letters...
He had been wrong.
He'd told himself that you understood what he needed to do, who he was to the people of the world. You knew he was the Avatar. He had a duty to protect the people and the balance of all nations but more importantly, you.
So did you not understand? Did you pretend to when he first told you that he loved you and wanted to be with you for the rest of his life?
All he wanted was to make sure that the world stayed safe enough for you to live in. It was never like you asked him to take on that responsibility, but he couldn't sleep at night knowing that you were constantly surrounded by danger when he knew that he could do something about it. You deserved what he had to fight for, and that was peace.
But could it really be at the cost of causing you so much pain and unrest?
Suddenly, he was afraid to face you. It felt like judgement day.
Still, no matter what, Aang had to see you. He'd let you cry, scream and hit him if it made you feel better. He just wanted to lay eyes on you. Maybe hold you, if you'd let him. Spirits, he hoped so...
With a firm resolve set in his jaw, he gently placed the letters back on the lowered table and quietly made his way out onto the balcony where you were still chipping away at dead leaves.
Even though you had no bending abilities, you were still able to feel when something...was off. It was like a shift in the air, a turn; a difference. It brushed against your skin like a breath waiting to exhale.
As noticeable as it was, it still didn’t prepare you for what came next.
"You're still awake."
It was as if the world had gone quiet. The rain, the wind chimes, the distant hum of the city below—it all faded into nothing. Even the air in your lungs had abandoned you.
It couldn’t be…
It wasn’t—
But you didn’t turn to look. You didn’t even blink.
Instead, you held your breath and counted down the seconds, hoping that you weren’t having another waking nightmare. Your mind could be terribly cruel that way. It’s enjoyed making you suffer the long and lonely days and nights with your husband gone, tormenting you with memories and phantom touches of his fingers across your skin. It had this peculiar way of creating illusions that it knew you yearned for, if not to silence the thought of losing him.
Aang.
It was him, you knew it. Like the flowers in your palms, this was real; this, you knew. Except, the greater part of you couldn't bring itself to face him.
It was the months of waiting, of spiraling between anger and worry. It took from you until you had nothing left to give.
So, you said nothing.
You resumed snipping at the leaves, and ignored the sharp breath from behind you. By now, he must have realized. How could he not? You'd left things as they were; the bed, the tea, the letters... Oh, the letters. They were the worst. Surely he'd put the pieces together by now. Every fractured part of you was right there in front of him, painfully bare.
Aang had failed to realize the impact of his absence, but he could see it now.
Things were worse than he could've imagined.
After a moment of silence, he took a brave step forward, testing the waters. He let his footsteps create enough sound for you to hear him, but you did not react.
He stepped forward again, and was now close enough to feel your body heat against his own. His eyes assessed what he could see of you. They went from your tensed shoulders to each shallow breath that you took, and down to the rigid way that you were trimming the leaves. His face pulled into a slight frown. He wanted to reach out and touch you, but he wasn't sure how to go about it. You were upset, he could tell, so he wanted to tread as carefully as possible.
But moments like these were handled as they always were.
Aang grinned to himself.
He knew just how to fix this.
He started off by brushing his fingers against your arm, trailing up until they poked against your cheek. Of course, nothing, but he expected as much. He then placed his chin on your shoulder and continued to watch you before sliding his long arms around your waist, holding you against him. Curiosity stirred in his eyes and deep in his chest as he leaned into you, trying to catch your eyes. You were focused, and agonizingly silent.
Aang pouted.
He'd thought that he could fix this the ol' fashioned way.
Guess not.
"Baby... I'm home. I'm here now. C'mon," he closed his eyes for a brief moment, and grazed his lips against your neck. "Talk to me. Please."
He didn't move away, and neither did you. Your mind spiraled as you tried to ignore him. The part of you that was excited to have him back home, safe and sound, had been drowned out by what had lingered after he'd left you in a period of burning silence. You allowed yourself to feel angry, to feel hurt and abandoned because these feelings were coming from a place in your heart where only he occupied.
You didn't love easily. Falling for Aang happened over time. It’d started purely as adoration that eventually turned into something that you knew would ruin you.
It took work to get to where you were with him. He'd spent years pining and yearning after you, courting you with flowers and big gestures that ultimately ended with him proposing to you. You remembered it like it was yesterday. It was beautiful because he had done it privately, just the two of you. That was what made it special.
That was the moment that you'd truly fallen in love with him.
Aang had always been someone that provided you with love, affection, honesty and communication and, maybe, that had turned into your greatest weakness somewhere along the way. You'd fallen so deeply in love with him that a garden of selfishness began to grow. You'd accepted him as the pillar of peace and balance, but that acceptance slowly festered and turned into a nasty thought that wouldn't go away. It wasn't like he could stop being the Avatar. You knew this, but...
You were so selfish. You loved him. You loved a man that was now your husband but still had to give half of himself to a world that would always need him even when you felt you needed him more.
This confliction within you confused you. He needed someone that was willing to be by his side, accept his duties and still love him all the same. You just didn't know how to do that without wanting him all to yourself.
This love for him... It weakened you, and it exposed him. If he decided to choose you over the world one day, what would happen then? Would there even be a world for him to love you in? Would it not go back to the days of chaos and madness? The founding and building of Republic City would be for naught and would fall without his constant influence and protection.
Was it not better this way? To swallow your deepest and darkest feelings lest they come to light and destroy all that you and Aang had built for one another?
A pain twisted in the maze of your heart, settling like a rock in the ocean. Maybe the answer was simple. Maybe it was an answer you knew you wouldn't like.
You paused what you were doing, staring down at the shears clutched in your hand.
When you spoke, you felt his fingers twitch against your stomach.
"Welcome home."
Aang knew he should have been happy. You were talking to him again. However, it was not in the same way that he had become so greedily accustomed to. Your tone was flat, your body was stiff and you still weren't looking at him. His stomach felt twisted in knots. He must've really fucked this up.
The last time you were this upset with him was when he had told you that he was going to the fire nation for a briefing with Zuko and the fire nation council members. There was a border issue that needed addressing and the group behind the incident demanded to speak with the Avatar only. He'd promised you that it was not going to be long before he came back home, and that he would be careful. Except when he did come back home, he was in worst shape than when he'd left. It'd scared you and you told him how the thought of losing him made you feel.
That was the first time, since marrying you, that he'd come to truly realize how deeply and utterly in love he was with you. How it, too, would kill him if anything were to happen to you. It was one of the bigger reasons why he didn't mind being the Avatar. If it meant keeping you safe, then he would choose this path in each and every single lifetime.
Even if it meant having you angry and upset with him more often than not. Much like now, except this...this felt different. He wasn't sure how yet, but it did.
"I'm sorry..." he whispered near your ear, looking at the side of your face like a kicked puppy would. "I mean it. I know I made you worry, and I'm sorry. It won't happen again."
Those words...
It won't happen again.
But, it would, wouldn't it? And you knew why.
When he felt you untangle yourself from his arms and step back from him, he felt his body wash over with sand, pulling him down until it nearly suffocated him from the inside. Rejection sat heavy within him, too heavy for comfort. Then the frown on your face, the hurt in your eyes and the way you looked at him.
Spirits, he truly hated that look.
It made him inhale, feeling his head swell with an emotion that he couldn't quite place.
"Sorry?" You closed your arms around yourself, and shook your head. "No, Aang... You have nothing to apologize for. It's your duty, as the Avatar, to put the people first. The Denied needed to be taken care of. I...understand this now. It's fine. We're fine." Your eyes fell to the city beyond you, watching the rain scatter across shutters and the rocky pathways of the streets. "Just fine."
You could tell that he didn't believe you. Spirits, you didn't believe you. It almost made you cringe, but you tried to school your features to remain as neutral as you were able to.
"I don't believe you."
Your eyebrows twitched.
Aang stepped towards you, fully expecting you to step back again. When you didn't, he released a breath. Relief acted like a sedative to the rejection from a moment ago. Better, he thought.
"If you were fine, if we are fine, then you wouldn't still have that look on your face."
"What are you talking about?" You asked, your eyes finding his again.
The way he was staring at you now, it made you feel so exposed. You never could hide parts of yourself from him. He was very good at seeking them out and making you lay them all out where he could see them, plainly; openly. It unnerved you when you knew he was right to.
When he said your name, it was under his breath and there was a rhythmic tic in his jaw. He looked as if he was trying to keep his composure, but the shiver that ran down your spine could not be ignored. You swallowed, and pushed your teeth into your lip.
"Don't do that."
His tone dropped quietly, familiar in a way that unsettled you more than if he'd raised his voice. It sounded practiced, like something that was said to you during moments where he felt you slipping away from him emotionally, and instinctively reached out to pull you back.
Your breath stumbled over the next.
"Do what?"
His lips pulled into a half smile, his eyes darkening.
"Act like you don't know what I'm talking about. How long have we been doing this now? How many years have we danced this dance?" He took another step forward and you'd only realized, just now, that there was nowhere else to go. The closer he got, the more you had to bend your neck back to look at him. Was he always this broad and imposing?
"I know you," he continued, peering down at you, only a few inches from you now. "I know your ins and your outs. I know what you sound like when you're happy or when you're all sad and angry at me. Or..." He looked over you, finding the gown that you had haphazardly thrown on earlier to be quite...transparent. His smile turned into a smirk. He didn’t need to say it. You knew.
A breeze whirled between the overwhelming heat of your bodies, caressing the front of your gown, prompting your nipples to peak against the thin fabric. It was him; he was always the wind. An unnatural current of air that moved around you, against you. It shouldn't have been possible, but nothing was impossible for him. He knew you knew this. He tended to use that to his advantage, and sometimes it worked.
Another inhale, and you could feel a bit lightheadedness coming over you. Breathing should have made this easier. It did not.
Without knowing it, he was unraveling you, seam by seam. You could feel it.
There was no more fighting it.
"You always do this," you tell him, shaking your head. "You think you can say a few words to turn me on. Touch me a certain way and smile at me, and suddenly things are back to being okay between us. That's not going to work this time, Aang. I'm sorry but its not and maybe, that's how things should be for us."
You moved past him to go inside when you felt his hand close around your wrist, pulling you back. With a stumble, the front of your body collided into his. He searched your eyes for a moment, letting you stand in a pocket of silence before he spoke again.
"And what if I don't want things to be like this between us? I mean, I know I was gone for a while but I'm here, aren't I?"
He thought that he understood you. He thought that he knew you better than you knew yourself but again, he was wrong. How could he not see this part of you? A part of you that had been there, all along. Did he not know you the way that he thought?
“You don’t get it,” you let out a humorless sigh, struggling to process what you were hearing. “I was so worried about you, Aang. Do you know what it’s like to be so far apart from you and to not know whether you’re okay or not? I know you can always take care of yourself but I also know you’re not invincible. You like to make these rash decisions that put you in the most dangerous situations. So, not hearing from you for months and for you to just show up, out of the blue, thinking a bit of humor and soft touches just…fixes things?”
Aang’s hold on you tightened rather than loosening to let you go. It wasn’t like you were fighting him but you grounded him, even when you looked at him like he’d said or done something completely unforgivable.
Well…maybe he did.
In fact, the time that he’d spent not writing to you was time that he took to focus on his mission. He figured that the less time he spent on constantly writing to you and worrying you with every single detail that was going on, the more time that he would have to get what he needed on the Denied. The sooner he could return back home to you. Except…it would seem that no matter what decision he’d made at the time, it would’ve still been the wrong one.
Why couldn’t you see that? Why couldn't you understand that what he'd done, he'd done for you?
“So you’re saying that this is my fault?"
Your eyes widened in the reflection of his whirling grey ones, feeling your skin prickle as gooseflesh settled over it. The air around you whistled through the tension between you and him as if it was preparing for its final curtain call.
The ridiculousness of his question froze you.
Even the way that he was looking at you. Gone was the boyish gleam in his eyes and the soft touch of his arms around you. In its place were hardened eyes and rigidness in the palms of his hands. He did not release you nor did you look away.
“You say that like it’s a question.”
“Yeah, because it is.”
Your eyebrows furrowed with the hitch in your chest.
Breathing had never felt so agonizing.
“I don’t understand–”
“Yeah. I know. Me neither."
Finally, his arms dropped back to his sides and when he pulled away from you, it should’ve brought you a sense of relief. It did not. It only made you feel colder than you already were.
Calling him the Avatar…
You’d never done that before. In fact, he held nothing but memories of you seeing him as just your husband. He found that he didn’t like it. Not when it came from you, someone he loved more than anyone in the entire world and was comforted by knowing that when he came home, he could just be himself. Just Aang, without the weight of the world sitting heavy on his shoulders as the Avatar.
Aang sighed, and turned to face the railing of the balcony, eyes hard-set on the night covered city. His hands rested on the wood, gripping it until the whites of his knuckles pressed taut against his skin.
“Out there, I am suffocated by the world and its expectations for me. I know I’m not like other people. I have a duty, a responsibility to all of the nations to be this symbol of peace and be a protector of it but sometimes… Sometimes I regret ever being found in that iceberg.”
Despite the frantic thoughts that consumed you and screamed at you to say something, you forced it all back and chose to remain silent.
The lantern light stretched across his back, illuminating the tension coiled through his shoulders. The smooth but ripped skin moved against tendon as he let his head drop, and closed his eyes to let his body expel some of the tension that hid between the grooves of his shoulders and spine.
“I am tired, my love. So very tired and I have not even fulfilled half of what is expected of me.”
Finally you felt the pull to willingly move towards him, but your feet stayed planted where they were. He looked as worn down as he'd sounded. His slouched form, the bags underneath his eyes and the weight of responsibility that still sat on his shoulders. It almost made you feel bad for how you were acting. Almost.
“Aang,” his head turned to your direction but he did not look at you. It was enough. “I know the duty, as the bridge of both worlds, comes with a lot of weight." He winced, knowing what you really wanted to say. "I know that most days, you just want to spend them looking for more airbender relics at the air temples, but you have to think about the people. The world. They need you–”
“Why do you sound like Katara?”
You stopped, and blinked.
“What?”
Aang let out a heavier sigh this time, then fully turned back around to you, his dark brows knitted together.
“You sound just like her. I mean, what’s next? You’re going to tell me that I’m the Avatar? You don’t think I know that by now?” He asked you, gesturing a hand across the length of his body to point out the obvious. There was a new fire stirring in his eyes now, something you didn’t often see. He looked like he, too, was unraveling. “And what’s up with you calling me that anyway? Avatar. You never see me as just that so what’s changed? Is my absence the reason?”
He was talking too fast, saying too much. You couldn’t keep up.
He clenched a hand around the railing behind him, if only to steady himself. There was a storm brewing in those grey eyes of his. Fires that looked like it would take more power than you had to put out.
Maybe it had something to do with the way he was getting all defensive that made you finally snap back.
“Don’t pull that shit with me, Aang.”
Your chest heaved with each passing word, feeling the sting behind your nose and eyes. You didn’t want to get all emotional, but fuck it.
“You’re a hypocrite. You’re a fucking hypocrite and I’m sick of it. I know the things that you think but won’t say. At least, not to my face. How selfish I am with you. How I don’t care enough about the people, the cause. How I’m not supportive enough of you. Now I give you just that and what? Suddenly I’m a different person? That's bullshit, and you know it.”
For a moment, Aang allowed you to fill up the space with your anger instead of his. He practiced great strength in his patience and a certain level of understanding when it came to you. Usually, it was why things stayed good between the two of you. Naturally, there were differences. That came with the territory of being different people from different backgrounds.
Even so, he hated when things got like this between you and him.
“Don’t talk like that with me,” his tone was stern and curt, but still had that brush of calm that you tended to love about him. Except, this time, it was like the flood gates had opened. You couldn’t stop, even if you truly wanted to.
“I’ll talk to you however I want. You don’t own me, Aang.”
When you stepped closer to him, it was like you could physically see the way he was trying to hold himself back from reacting. His knuckles went white again and the dip in his brows deepened.
“This entire marriage with you has been so confusing. It’s been full of emotions that I never knew I had to prepare myself for. Had I known…” Your eyes fell away from his. “Maybe I would’ve… maybe I wouldn’t have…”
Before you could even think about how to finish that sentence, Aang was on you. One hand flew to your jaw, curling a few fingers under your chin to pull your gaze back onto his while the other hand tugged at your hip, pulling you against him.
Once again, you were suffocating in the aroma of everything that made Aang who he was to you. The scents were comforting, but it did nothing to thaw the ice corroding your heart now that you were forced to look at him.
Aang towered over you with ease, his back slightly curved and his wide yet still darkened eyes never left yours. He should’ve backed down. He should’ve let you speak, but knowing what you were about to say… It would’ve broken him into a million pieces. He would have much rather died than hear anything like that come from you. Easily.
“What is this, this fight in you? Where is this coming from? You’ve never been this angry with me. Have I really been gone that long?”
Your face twisted like there was something foul on your tongue.
“Why do you still not understand? This isn’t about the stupid mission–”
“Okay, then tell me.”
He searched your eyes again, frantically, hoping that he would find his answer there. No matter what, it was as if you'd closed him off. Not even through your eyes could he see what you were thinking. Another pang in his chest.
Your vision of him began to blur. When did you start crying?
“I think…I think I lo…” It felt like a rock was lodged in your throat. You swallowed what you could down, and breathed. "I think I love you too much, Aang, and that’s the problem. Katara was trying to tell me–”
“I knew it.” His face fell into a hard line, if that was even possible.
You sighed, shaking your head in his hold. “No, she was trying to help me–”
“Help ruin this marriage? Yeah, I’m sure she was just trying to help.”
With that, he started to pull away. This time, you were the one to pull him back.
“When did you start villainizing her?”
Aang glanced at you before dropping his eyes to the floor. The flex in his jaw was fluctuating now, as if it was trying to weigh what was morally right and what was wrong. Usually, he could keep a handle on his thoughts before speaking. It was easier that way because it kept him from saying something he knew he would regret.
If only he'd done that now.
“Since she started meddling in our marriage.” He peeked back at you from the corner of his eyes, frowning again. “Filling your little head up with crazy ideas and these…” He shook his head. “All of these misconceptions.” He looked away again, finding a new outlet for his anger and confusion. “I knew she wasn’t over it. I just had a feeling.”
At the mention of old wounds, you gripped at his arm, not realizing how your nails dug into his skin. He was too deep in his own thoughts to even notice.
“Are you serious?” At that, he met your eyes again and saw how he had made things worse for himself. “She’s your friend. How could you say that about her? And she’s engaged, for spirits’ sake!” His eyes flinched at your tone, feeling his heart drop. “Or did you forget that too?”
Aang knew he always had this way about him. How he tended to stuff his foot in his mouth, and didn’t realize it was there until it was too late to take it out. He’d messed up. Being gone without reaching back out to you in those few months was now the very least of his worries.
You let him go and ran a hand over your face, trying to reel your emotions back in before you also said something that you knew you would regret.
“Maybe we should head inside, and get to bed. It’s late. You just got home. I don’t want to fight any more than we already have.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. Forget it,” you waved it off, letting out another sigh before you turned your back to him. “I’m tired. I just want to sleep.”
Aang’s shoulders deflated. All of the anger that he’d felt moments ago had dissipated into thin air. His body felt numb with too many emotions to place but the one that he couldn’t ignore was knowing that he had hurt you more than he ever had.
It wasn’t supposed to go like this. He was meant to surprise you, pull you into his arms and kiss you until sleep took over. He never wanted to fight with you, but this was worse than a fight wasn’t it?
Was the marriage itself on its last and final thread? How could he fix things from here or was it too late?
He should’ve let you walk through those doors. He should’ve let you retire for the night. He’d caused you enough hurt, it was understandable, but Aang started to realize another thing about himself.
He found it hard to watch you walk away from him.
As soon as you started to walk away, you heard a low thump. Worried that Aang had jetted off for the night, possibly off to sleep somewhere that wasn’t right next to you, your body swiveled around with your lips prepared to call out for him when you saw it. Saw him.
Your eyes lowered.
His knees were pressed into the floor, his head hung low and his hands were loosely balled into fists on his thighs. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. He looked defeated, like there was nothing else he could say to fix this between you and him.
So, he figured that the next best thing was to beg.
“Baby… Forgive me… I was out of line. Way out of line.”
His voice was so low, it was almost hard to hear him. You stood standing where you were, your arms by your side. You felt your heart melt in the worst way. He’d never done this before. Well, not in this sort of situation, at least. A man as powerful as him had decided that it was best to meet you on his knees rather than let his bruised ego get in the way.
All you could see was the dark blue arrow that led to his forehead. From his raspy tone, being on his knees and knowing that he was silently giving you back your power—it stirred something inappropriate between your thighs.
Inappropriate because was this really the time for this?
“I’m an asshole. I know that, and I haven’t been all that fair to you. I know that, too. As my wife, you understand what it means to stand by my side through the toughest of times and I love you for that but I have not really seen it through your eyes. I know it’s hard being the Avatar’s wife.”
He sighed to himself.
“Not to mention the fact that I kept telling myself that if I stayed focused on the mission, I’d get home faster. I'll admit, it was the wrong call and I realize that now. I stayed gone for months, and you got nothing. I…I understand how you felt.”
You sucked in a slow breath, and held it as you let him continue to speak.
“You want to be selfish but because you’re so kind, you feel guilty for it. Maybe…maybe Katara was right,” you watched the way his hands tightened back into fists. “You don’t know this but she’d once told me that I was holding you back. That you would be freer if I stopped being so selfish by keeping you here. She thought of you as a caged bird and I’ll be honest,” he let out a humorless laugh. “That broke me.”
And it broke something within you.
Katara never acted nor spoke as if she saw your marriage in such a way. She was the most honest person that you knew. Why would she say something like that?
“Aang,” you interrupted, unable to keep yourself from asking. “When was this?”
His eyes looked off to the side, the moonlight catching them in its cool light, bringing out a gleam similar to that of a moonstone.
“After our last fight.”
Ah. So that was it. The fight after he had returned from that mission at the border in the fire nation. Sure, the argument was bad but you never thought it was that bad.
“So you went to her.”
It wasn’t a question. It was just an observation.
Aang’s head shot up to look at you. He looked ready to get back on his feet and crowd you again, but held himself back. His breath hitched.
“Yes. I did, but only because she’s your closest friend here. I wanted to know if I was truly in the wrong and if so, how to fix it.”
The abrupt silence carried with the wind, allowing you the opportunity to think. It wasn’t worth getting upset over, especially when it was a thing of the past. Plus, Katara was close to everyone. She was Aang’s confidant before you. It made sense that they stayed close enough to still confide in one another so that wasn’t the issue. Well, if there was one to harbor on.
Katara was also nothing but supportive of you and Aang. She was there when you two met, when you started to gain feelings for each other, when you started courting and finally, at your marriage ceremony. It sounded like she had been trying to look out for you and your wellbeing. Though, it wasn't exactly necessary considering you were more than happy with Aang and all of his shenanigans.
Maybe a conversation with her was in order...
Be that as it may, you didn’t care about any of that. You only cared about you and him. That was it. Nothing else mattered.
Slowly, you made your way over to him. When you bent down, you grabbed one of his hands and pulled him back up. When he towered over you again with that softened yet hopeful look in his big grey eyes, you took the chance to pinch one of his big ears.
“Ow!” He instantly pouted, and held a hand to his injured ear. “What was that for?”
There it was. That expression on his face that always did make him look several years younger. He grumbled under his breath, trying to massage away the temporary pain while you let out a snort that easily turned into a laugh. He stopped, and looked at you.
Your laugh was like several bells to his ears. Or, ear. The other one was still throbbing so not much was going through that one but it made his heart jump all the same.
When you’d noticed the familiar light back in his eyes, you felt your own sting with tears again.
“I’m not a caged bird, Aang, and you’re not holding me back. At all. I’m here and with you in this marriage because I want to be. I saw a lifetime with you, and I still do. Yes, it hurts when you have to leave for long periods of time. It hurts when you don’t write for months and leave me waiting and thinking the worst. And yet, I’m still here.”
You raised a hand to his face, sliding a gentle thumb across the apple of his cheek, melting at the realization that you could survive this. That the only reason you’d fought with him was because you never allowed yourself to feel how you felt. It wasn’t going anywhere. You still wanted him to yourself but, at the same time, you were capable of sharing him with the world. You’d realized that there was room within you to do both and in a very healthy way.
He didn’t say anything. He let you continue.
A smile made its way to your lips.
“Maybe I can…travel with you? I know you’ve always said it’s too dangerous and that you don’t want to risk anything happening to me but you know I can fight. I can hold my own. I won’t get in the way. That way I can be right next to you and not a thousand miles away. I want adventure with you, Aang. I want to be with you and never be apart unless–”
For the first time in months, when his lips descended onto yours, you could feel yourself breathe. It was as if he’d given you life and built a new way to inhale, knowing that he was there and always would be. It was what your body had been craving. So, you let yourself finally let go of all the hurt and the pain that came with missing your husband and melted into his touch.
There was nothing more that needed to be said between you and him. Aang understood you completely now. You loved him and with that came the longing of wanting to be by his side more than be in a home that would never be able to replace him.
He could do that. He could take you with him wherever he went because no matter what, he would keep you safe. That had been his only fear and reason why he never wanted to take you with him. But, you were not some helpless damsel that constantly needed protecting. He’d forgotten how well you could take care of yourself too.
For a brief second, he pulled back and looked into your eyes, finding nothing but pure love and devotion staring back at him.
He hummed, and pressed his forehead to yours.
“You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I will never leave you alone again. You go where I go and if I have to leave you back here at home, I promise to write to you every single day. If I slip up, I give you full permission to yell and scream at me as much as you want, yeah?”
A giggle bubbled up as you shook your head, “you are going to be the death of me, you know that?”
Aang released a drawn out whine, and traveled his hands down your sides to your hips. He gripped your waist, giving you a look that said more than what he’d said next,
“In more ways than one.”
He reclaimed your lips, pushing his tongue past the softness of yours the moment you tried to say his name. It fell into a whisper and the wind took it, secretly manipulated by him bending the air around you, pulling you closer until it felt like you were molding into one. This is what he would spend his long nights dreaming of. Being able to hold you, to feel you, to kiss you. To hear your sighs, to feel your smile against his lips and to know that with you, he was whole again. To know that he was not alone, and could be no one but himself.
“Aang…not here,” you mumbled, feeling him spread kisses from the corner of your mouth to your cheek.
You felt a rumble in his chest, finding a faint smirk on his face.
“You sure? I think anyone would feel honoured to watch how the Avatar fucks his pretty little wife. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Your body shivered at the feeling of his fingers drawing your gown up from your thighs, moving around enough so that he'd grazed the lower end of your spine. His lips were on your neck now, suckling and kissing, knowing how easily you bruised. He’d leave as many as possible, just enough to make them hard to fully cover.
Perhaps he had a point. The thought of letting him take you here, on the balcony where anyone might come out on their own in the middle of the night and see the two of you, caused a bigger ache between your thighs than you wanted. Or maybe not having his hands on you for the past few months just made you too desperate to say no to any of his outlandish ideas.
Except, he knew that you knew that was not true.
When you felt him playfully bite at your shoulder, you squealed and pushed at his chest with widened eyes.
“Did you just…bite me?”
Aang said nothing at first. He merely grinned like some rebellious teenager, raising an eyebrow.
“What? Didn’t like it? Where’s all that fight from earlier, huh?”
He reached out and curled a finger around a strand of your hair. He licked his lips, observing the way your breath quickened. It would seem that you were just as needy and as desperate as him. And spirits, if that didn’t turn him on in the worst way.
His hand dropped to your collarbone, sliding his fingers down until they met the edge of your gown that dipped in the front. Slowly, he tugged until he could see more of your cleavage and almost groaned. You made him feel so depraved. Like a rabid, starving man eager to devour. Only you could make him this way. Turn and corrupt him into wanting you more than he’d ever wanted anything else in his life. Nothing could come close to being with you. Simply being near you, in your presence, made him want to be on his knees, serving you in every way imaginable.
You didn’t have to look. You could feel his knuckles skim the side of your breast, your body reacting almost instantly. His throat dried at the sight of your nipple peaking, almost like it was reaching out to him, begging him to touch.
“Aang…”
Your voice was like honey to his ears, so deliciously sinful. It nearly took the power of his past lives to get him to look at you without ripping your flimsy little gown off and taking you against the railing.
“Where?” he asked you, his voice low and broken, barely trusting himself to say much. Else, he feared he would growl at his weakening restraint. “You said not here, so where?”
Aang prayed to whoever was listening that you wouldn’t say the bedroom. He knew himself. He could feel it. The savage within him wouldn’t let him let you make it that far. It had to be somewhere close but comfortable for you because if it was left up to him, he would have you up against the nearest wall and fuck you that way. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger, just let him do all of the work.
His cock stirred.
Restraint.
Before he let his hand drop back down, you grabbed it and smiled.
“Come.”
And he almost did...until he realized that you’d meant for him to follow you instead.
Yeah, well. He could do that too.
Watching you turn and slowly pull him back inside, his eyes glued to the dip in your hips and the arch of your back, made him fully aware of just how much he could actually see through your gown. How it clung to you like a second skin, and moved with the gentle cadence of your steps. Especially when you passed through the warm glow of a few lit candles on the way in. Had those been lit before?
Truthfully, as much as he loved your body, it was how you'd reached for him as if you didn't need to think twice. As if it was your way of telling him that he had nothing left to fear. That you were silently choosing him all over again. It gave him the confirmation that he needed. That he hadn't failed you or this marriage.
That thought brought a certain warmth and haziness to his eyes. It was all he wanted. He hated fighting with you, but he’d misunderstood your feelings. You were only trying to convey that you'd missed him. He just didn't realize how much.
The moment you were about to cross the hearth, he grabbed you by the waist and captured your lips, groaning right into your opened mouth. He didn’t want to think about any of that right now. If anything, he used the long wait of seeing you as his pillar and reason.
He had to have you. There was no waiting to get to the bedroom. He'd waited long enough.
It felt like he was everywhere. The way his tongue brushed against yours, the feel of his hands digging into your waist and how you had to stand on your toes just to stay connected. Your hands moved over the strong ridges of his abdomen and up to his chest, sighing against his lips.
The love that you felt for him went beyond the limitations of the heart. Everything in you, even down to your spirit, knew that Aang was always going to be the one. The only one that could make you laugh, cry and love, all in the same breath.
He was simply and utterly perfection personified.
The kiss deepened, and you could feel it. You could feel the desperation, the longing that had taken place in your absence. How, not being near you, affected him just as much as you. He moved against you like wind brushing over water. Fluidly, purposefully, tracing his fingers up and down your spine to the base where they could spread over the round of your ass.
"Fuck,” he swore under his breath. His rough, raspy voice against your lips almost made you collapse.
He kissed from the corner of your lips to your jaw, down to your neck where he resumed leaving behind a few marks. He didn't want to hurt you but the thought of leaving darkened spots across your pretty skin spoke to him in a way that it shouldn't have. He imagined you failing to fully cover them and someone noticing. Would they be horrified? Concerned?
He smiled to himself.
He couldn’t wait.
Oh, and the noises, the sounds that you were making...
Truth be told, you were going to be the one to kill him in the end. And if this was to be his fate, then he gladly welcomed it with open arms.
"Aang, please," you pleaded, almost pushing him over the edge.
Still, he always did like how pretty you begged.
"Please what?" he asked you, still nipping and sucking at your neck, one of his hands moving to the front of your gown. His knuckles brushed just above the heat between your thighs, sending a chill through your body.
You gasped, and buried your face into his chest, hearing how steady his heartbeat was. He seemed calm, despite how he was making you feel. You just had no idea how close to breaking he actually was.
Months of being without him made your body miss him in ways you didn’t think were possible. It was sensitive to every touch and every breath, keening at the attention it craved for. It made you want to let go and completely fall apart in his arms.
“Touch me,” you breathed and as pathetic as it may have sounded, it didn’t stop you. “Need you touch me.”
“I am touching you, sweet girl,” he said into your skin, smiling softly, eyes closed. “What, you want more?” He felt you nod, and hummed to himself. “My greedy, greedy wife.”
When his lips found yours again, everything around you faded and blurred away into the background. It was easy to get lost in him, in all that he was. With you, in this moment, he was no longer the Avatar. He wasn’t the dependable friend nor was he the savior of Republic City; of the entire world. With you, he had no responsibilities. No one and nothing. He was just your husband, your Aang.
He didn’t rush. He took his time with you, reaching to cup your face and mold himself to you. He felt you quiver, whine and hold him like you would’ve fallen to pieces if not. He kissed you until you felt your head spin. Until he made you feel like you were somewhere else and not in a world where you had to share him. Until you felt your knees touch the soft rug in front of the hearth, and Aang hovering on top of you, his tattooed hands next to your head. Even the sound of the rain waned until there was nothing but the sound of his breath chasing after yours.
With you flat on your back now, Aang could really get a good look at you. Your cheeks were warm, and your lips were kiss-swollen. Part of your gown had slipped down, revealing your skin shimmering with a glow that made his heart squeeze. The mark on your neck was blooming steadily. You wore it beautifully, the gleam in your eyes telling him that you were proud of it even. His chest ached with so much love and warmth, he could hardly contain it.
“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on.”
It was true. He’d met plenty of women, but none held a candle to you. They weren’t worthy comparisons in the slightest. Sure, they held their own unique beauty but you were above that. Everywhere you went, you had a luminescent light about you that made you look so angelic. You also loved with the entirety of your heart, giving away bits of you without caring about what was left. You loved and cared openly, without regard. That made you different, special.
He felt like the luckiest man in the entire fucking world.
As he looked you over, his eyes landed on the jewelry around your neck. He traced a finger along the necklace at your throat. He’d made it for you a while ago; smooth mountain bone carved with an Air Nomad wind swirl, reclaimed glider wood fitted beneath it and tiny bronze pieces. It was meant to mimic the prayer chimes you’d found in the air temple long ago.
Simple, invaluable and perfect, like you. It was also meant to remind you that he would always be with you, even if he couldn’t physically be there. He knew it was not to replace him. Only to keep you company when you felt at your lowest and missed him.
As he stared down at it, he pictured you holding it at random points of the day and crying into it at night. He wondered if you ever took it off even though you’d sworn to him that you never would.
You couldn’t help but catch the distant look in his eyes as he fiddled with the necklace.
“What are you thinking about?” You asked in a soft tone, a hand of yours coming up to brush over the corded bracelet you’d made for him that was wrapped around his wrist.
Pieces of both of you given to each other during the wedding ceremony so many moons ago. While his gift felt like it’d held much more meaning, yours was done through several long and frustrating days. You’d weaved and corded it yourself, despite Katara’s several attempts to help. As much as you could’ve used it, you wanted your gift to be handmade. It felt more special that way but there was nothing truly significant about it.
It was plain cord in a tightly woven fashion. At the time, it felt right because Aang was very simplistic and held no interest over materialistic things. As an air nomad, he was taught not to place value on wealth, extravagance and certain possessions. Thankfully, he didn’t reject your gift but looking at it in the same light that he was looking at his…
“Have you taken this off since I’ve been gone?”
Your eyes widened a bit. “No. Why?”
Aang swallowed, and licked his dry lips.
“Not even once? Not even when I failed to write or you thought that I was never coming back?”
The only reason you’d noticed that his eyes were back on you was because you were already staring at him.
You held eye contact and said, “No. Not even then. Not even when I cursed your name and cried some nights. I held onto it knowing that you would return because you always do.”
The level of faith and adoration that you had in him did something to him that he wouldn’t dare voice out loud. He knew this love for you would be his ruin. It was becoming unhealthy and maddening.
If you loved him, he loved you more. If you put him on some sort of pedestal, then you were the center of his universe and reason for existing. He’d went from believing that his purpose was to the people, to the world as their Avatar. That is, until he met you.
Since then, each breath that he took was for you.
Without you, he was nothing. A ghost walking the earth in service of others, but not living. No, not how he lives for you.
You are the deity in his eyes. The goddess that he prays to on nights that he can spend on his knees, worshipping you from between your thighs. You are his greatest gift, and the greatest weapon to his own destruction. And yet, he did this. He created this. He’d given you all of the power needed to end him because what was a greater tragedy than dying at the hands of someone he loved more than life itself?
“Aang…” your voice brought him back, feeling your hand against his cheek. Subconsciously, he leaned into your warmth and closed his eyes.
You’d always known what his love for you meant and where it came from. Despite the fact that it had happened over a decade ago, Aang was clearly not healed from the tragedy of losing his people. He’d spent years trying to accept it and move on, but you knew the worst of it. It showed through the restless nights full of nightmares, how protective he was of you and how he loved you.
It didn’t concern you the way it did Katara because you understood and accepted that it would always be a part of him. Granted, you didn’t want him to fall into darker places. Yet, instead, you did your best to gently guide him back. If not to remind him that you were not his only reason to live. You reminded him that he needed to come first before you, always.
“You love me so much, I know you do, but don’t let it blind you from what truly matters which is you. I ground you, yes, but you are the epitome of balance within yourself. When you fight, fight for you the way you fight for me. And when you love, love you the way you love me.”
Aang listened because you were right. It was so easy to fall into that place that he held special, just for you. If he let himself think too deeply about where this attachment to you started, he could almost feel the edges of his mind begin to close in on itself. Except, that was where you came in. You quieted the loud thoughts and the burning feeling in his chest that echoed all that he’d lost.
You kept him sane, but he needed to remember that he existed not just for you and the people but for himself too. That he could love you and love himself just as much, at the same time.
“I’ll be better, I promise.”
He turned his head, and placed a kiss to your palm. Another, then another until he held your hand in his, spreading kisses to your wrist before you found him hovering back over you. The way the fire from the hearth danced within the moonstones of his eyes, making them darker than they normally were, it made your stomach curl in want.
“Better,” you breathed and wet your lips, ignoring the way his gaze followed the tip of your tongue. “The way you say that, it’s almost as if—”
“It’s for me, but if I don’t live at least half of my life for you then I don’t know if I could at all.”
Aang parted your thighs with his knee, dropping his eyes down to your chest. He watched as it moved with each passing breath, feeling his mouth water at the sight.
“Earlier…” he started as he leaned down to mouth at your collarbone. “–you told me to touch you. Tell me where.”
He slotted his lengthy body right between your legs, holding himself up to not crush you under his weight but just enough to keep you from feeling how hard he’d been for the past several minutes. Not like he could hide it but the semi dark atmosphere was working a bit in his favor.
His lips moved to your sternum, and ghosted over a nipple. It reacted like he’d hoped it would, reaching out for him again.
Not hearing anything, he glanced up at you and purred against the softness of your breast.
“Can’t touch you if I don’t know where to start, pretty.”
“Aang,” you almost reprimanded, frowning down at him. He figured that you were meant to look a bit more menacing than you did, and it almost made him laugh. You were so cute.
He used the tip of his tongue to swipe up against your nipple. It was warm, warmer than normal and you knew exactly why. It caused you to gasp sharply and wail out his name again, but in a higher pitch. He chuckled.
“You’re not saying anything so I’m going to assume that you’re ready to turn it in for the nigh—”
“Oh, don’t you dare.”
The look you gave him now could’ve stoked the flames next to him. That is, if you were a fire bender. Still, you were a woman of many talents. Talents that he was eager to exploit.
“Then…?” he asked, moving down until his chest met the lower half of your stomach, chin placed perfectly between your breasts. His eyes glimmered with a sudden innocence, nothing like how they were before, and his lips were poked out into a pout.
Your eye almost twitched.
What a little performer.
“I’ve waited months for this, Aang. Just touch me. I don’t care how. Or I’ll just do it without you. Maybe I'll even have you watch this time.”
If nothing else, that got his attention.
Aang’s face paled and fell into a hard line. Before you could protest, your gown was torn into jagged lines, right down the front. It laid in tatters around you, torn apart and utterly unsalvageable. He didn’t meet your widened eyes or the shocked look on your face at all.
Instead, he cupped his hand around one of your breast and closed his mouth over the eager nipple. You let out a long moan, letting your head fall back against the rug underneath you. As if everything about him wasn’t big enough, his tongue covered all that it needed to, not missing a spot.
His throaty sounds of approval made your head spin, yet again, feeling your legs twitch with the urge to close. Except, he was positioned perfectly in between them, keeping them wide open.
When he’d switched to the second bud and used his fingers to tweak and pull at the other, you could’ve cried. Your body didn’t know how to react. It’d been so long, way too long since it felt the touch of another that wasn’t yours. It knew him. It knew his touch like a familiar feeling embedded inside, coded by his hand. Pitifully sensitive and so reactive.
And Aang loved it.
Making you feel good felt like it was a part of his dna. He couldn’t imagine doing anything else.
Once he’d heard the mutterings of you telling him that you wanted more, he moved further south until he was met with your bare cunt.
He placed a palm just above it and used his thumb to raise as much of you as he could, staring directly at your clit now. It looked terribly swollen and shiny with your own arousal. He felt himself twitch in his pants.
Spirits, if you weren’t going to send him straight to the spirit world early.
He heard you mewl and saw your hips move up, using your body to beg for more this time. He smirked to himself before looking up at you. Like he figured, you refused to look back. Instead, you covered your face with your hands, mumbling about how he should stop staring and get on with it.
“Tell me, have you touched yourself since I’ve been gone?”
When you peeked back down at him, his eyes were back at your clit, massaging around it. He was still refusing to fully touch you, and it started to annoy you.
“Why does that matter? You’re here now. You can touch me—”
“Yeah, but…” Aang stopped what he was doing completely, and maneuvered his arms under your thighs to place your legs on his shoulders. Then, he kissed at the insides of your thighs, smiling into your skin. “Humor me. I wanna know.”
Looking down and watching him give attention to all but where you needed it most made you inwardly sigh. Humor him, he’d said. Fine.
“I did.”
He glanced up at you, clearly amused.
“When.”
“…that night. The same day that you left for the mission.”
A pause. A very long pause, in fact.
“Spirits,” he groaned out your name into your skin, grounding himself with a deep breath. “You’re going to kill me.”
Your clit throbbed.
“Why?”
He took a few seconds to respond, and it was not what you were expecting him to say.
“Because I did too.”
He could practically feel your eyes burning a hole through him, silently wanting him to further explain.
He trailed his lips down your inner thigh until you felt his warm breath just above your weeping cunt.
“After traveling for hours, I stopped at a point and made camp. Leaving you was hard,” he closed his eyes for a moment, reliving the memory. “It’s always the hardest thing I do so, of course, I started to miss you. I didn’t want to trust my dreams to give me what I wanted so I took it instead.”
The way he said that made your legs twitch, and your throat dry.
“When Appa and Momo finally fell asleep, I took a walk. Just to clear my head, you know? Walks usually help me sleep better. Though…” he sighed. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Thoughts of missing you turned into missing your voice, what you were doing, what you were wearing…or not wearing.”
Your breath quickened, knowing exactly where this was going. The mental image that your mind began to paint nearly lit your body on fire.
“I stopped at a tree and just…” he opened his eyes, and saw how hazy yours was. The greys of his darkened considerably. “Well. I’m sure you can imagine what happened next.”
The thought of him getting desperate enough to just…do that in the middle of wherever he was while thinking about you around the same time that you were touching yourself thinking about him…
You couldn’t bare another moment of talking about the past. He was here, seconds away from eating you out. You refused to use that time talking about what was when it could be what is.
“Aang, please stop talking. Touch me or I’m actually going to lose my mind.”
He stopped giving you thigh kisses, his eyes finding yours again, letting his lips curve up into another smirk.
“Yes ma’am,” and focused all of his attention exactly where you needed him the moment he’d laid you down and got into position.
As soon as he covered your clit with his mouth, your back arched and you let out a moan that made him groan right against you. He’d thought about this more times than he could count. Shameless thoughts of him pleasuring you, just like this, and pulling the prettiest sounds from you. Night after night, he laid awake, watching it play over and over. As the days turned into weeks, it only got worse. You made it hard to focus on anything else.
Much like now.
Your fingers plunged into the rug, holding it like it was anchoring you. It was overstimulating. The feel of a hot, slick pressure between your thighs, pressing along your clit, lazily dipping between your sticky folds, parting them for better access. Euphoria, pure bliss rushed through you, coaxing a broken moan that barely made it past your lips when you felt his tongue snake along the slit of your cunt.
"Ah, Aang!"
And the sounds, the slurping and the groaning... He was definitely doing it on purpose. What a little shit.
His name falling from your lips made him grin to himself as he suctioned his lips back around your throbbing clit. He knew that you could come from just this, but he wanted to take it a step further.
Aang let one of your thighs rest completely on his shoulder and traveled his fingers down to your slippery, twitching hole. He teased them up and down, hearing you beg and plead, before pushing a digit inside. His middle finger curled, earning a gasp from you. He hummed into the mess of you, instinctively aware of how to navigate through the warm tightness of your cunt. He'd done this several times, but it always felt like the first. Always felt like a starved-man, unable to get enough of you.
And fuck, if you didn’t taste like the sweetest thing he’s ever had the pleasure of eating.
You wailed and cried out for him, wanting more but not sure what more you could want when it felt like he was giving you too much.
He lapped at you with his tongue and sucked, alternating, as he added another finger. Except, this time he made sure both were warm where you would feel it, just like you'd felt the unnatural heat of his tongue moments ago.
Your body was well on the edge, feeling his pace quicken. He didn't stop, not even when you started to beg all pretty. Once he found that spongey spot inside of you, he aimed for it with each thrust of his fingers and fed on your swollen clit until he could hear your breath hitch and your moans get higher in pitch.
He nodded against you, groaning, "Like that, baby. Doin' so good for me."
"Aang!" you cried out again. "I can't!" he continued as he guided you through it.
"You can, love. You're so close," He said in a husky tone, brows furrowed, and still nose deep in you. "Let me feel it. Let me hear it. Please."
And that was all that it took.
He heard your breath stutter, and felt your walls tighten and flutter around his fingers before the squelching sounds turned into a steady drip of arousal. You'd practically coated his entire hand in it, leaving behind a wet, creamy mess. Your hips jerked, thighs quivering, nearly trapping his head there until you inhaled and exhaled.
For a moment, you didn't move and neither did he. As he cleaned you up with his tongue, you twitched but didn't say a word. You just stared up at the ceiling, your skin clad with sweat and warm with heat from the hearth. The thought of doing this and more here in front of the crackling flame no longer felt like a good idea. It felt like your body was on fire as it came down from its high. There was no way you were going to be able to focus if you didn't move elsewhere.
"Aang..." You called out for him, trying to use your fingers to get his attention. They brushed over his cheekbone then to his jaw. When you looked down, he was just coming up. A smile broke out across your face, your own cheeks warming and not from the heat of the fire. "You are so messy."
He chuckled, and rose to half of his height, settling himself properly between your legs again. He smoothed his hands down your thighs and held your gaze.
"So are you."
And well, he wasn’t wrong. You could feel a warm breeze glide between you and him, making you groan and rest your head back on the rug. From the stickiness, the heat and the way Aang continued to stroke and grip at your legs only made you want more. You’d already admitted to him how selfish you were. Why not raise the bar a bit more?
“Let’s move to the bed. I’m hot and this rug isn’t as comfortable as I was hoping it would be,” you mumbled, letting him tug you up until you were nearly face to face. He was so tall, even on his knees he was still looking down at you. Infuriating, but a turn on nonetheless.
Aang stood up first, and reached out for you to take his hands. You did but you looked down and back up at him.
“Carry me?”
He smiled, and tilted his head.
“Why? Can’t stand on your own?”
Normally, he would’ve just done what you asked but he couldn’t help but tease you. You made it too easy.
Your face fell into a scowl, playfully rolling your eyes.
“Fine. I’ll walk then.”
He hummed. “Poor thing. C’mere.” He bent down and like he would with a child, picked you up from under your arms and held you against him, feeling your arms secure themselves around his neck. Once he’d made sure your legs were also secured around his waist, he kissed your cheek and started walking towards the bedroom. “Such a baby.”
You half-smiled to yourself, looking elsewhere.
“Yeah, your baby.”
“Mhm.”
With Aang’s long legs, it didn’t take him but a few long strides to reach the room. Instead of putting you down, he turned and sat on the edge of the bed, still keeping your legs locked around his waist. Straddling him now, he dropped his arms from your hips and leaned back on his hands, eyeing you down. The intensity in his eyes made your arms loosen but not drop completely. Just lax, staring at him back.
“What?”
He didn’t say anything at first, just continued to look at you. Now that he’d had you fully naked and could see every part of you clearly, there was nothing keeping him from ogling you. Beautiful from head to toe. He just didn’t deserve you. He truly didn’t. And yet, you were made for him. You fit perfectly, in every way of the word.
He was just so happy that you’d chosen him to spend the rest of your life with. It wasn’t because he was the Avatar. No, you’d fallen in love with him as Aang, and that made his heart melt. Even to this day. He just couldn’t imagine what his life would’ve been like without you in it.
Just so completely over the moon in love with you.
You brought him back by trailing your fingers across his face, lightly pinching at his cheek.
“You spend way too much time in here,” you tapped at his temple, making him smile again. “What are you thinking about? Hopefully me.”
Cheeky, he thought before he inhaled and suddenly wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning up. His nose brushed yours, earning a giggle from you. But not wrong.
“Yes, you, beautiful girl.” He glanced at your lips, pecking them once then twice. He thumbed at your spine, “always you.”
You fought back a smile, biting at your lip.
“I’ve missed you. A lot.”
“And I’ve missed you so much more.”
The moment felt so perfect, it made you wonder if you were dreaming again. You couldn't help but remember what it had been like for you with him gone. Mentally, it was torture. So, to think that this too was nothing but a dream... Was it really that far-fetched?
But maybe it was the way Aang breathed, the feel of his chest against yours and that familiar glimmer in his eyes that promised you this was no dream. That he was truly here, right in front of you. Kissing you, touching you, and the whisperings of how much he'd missed you. It wasn't in your head. Not his voice, not his scent. Not even the way he filled up the space with his radiance, as faded from exhaustion as it was. It was still him. Your Aang.
"Now you're doing the thinking," you heard him say, feeling him press his forehead against yours.
Your lips split into a small grin, briefly closing your eyes.
"Sorry. Remind me to never think about you again."
Aang snorted. "Hah hah."
You snorted also and broke out into a chuckle, your eyes deep into his. "Seriously though. I know you're tired, but I really wanna...you know..."
"Mm," he took in a breath, ghosting his lips over yours and sliding his hands up and down your sides. "I may be the master of all four elements but I don't think I have the ability to read minds. Especially yours."
You stared at him back, and made a face. He grinned, and kissed you. You didn't hesitate to reciprocate it. A hand of yours nearly made its way to the nape of his neck to pull him closer when you broke apart, still giving him a look.
"Don't distract me."
"Awh, and it almost worked."
"What do you mean especially mine? Are you saying that you wouldn’t be able to read mine? Saying I have a big head or something?"
Aang deeply chuckled at that as he moved his lips to your forehead, laying a gentle kiss there, "No, but since we're on the subject–”
"Goodnight."
"Nooo, I'm joking," he whined, tightening his hold on you the moment that he felt you trying to pull away. You rolled your eyes, trying to keep back a smile. "Stayy."
“Why? So you can bully me some more?”
A bit distracted now, Aang kissed at the corner of your mouth before running the tip of his tongue along the seam of lips, not asking but taking. You let him nudge his tongue in and move against yours. He wasn’t even kissing you and you were already aching and wet again.
You let out a weak moan that was practically a whine, trying to lean in for more. When he’d slapped an ass cheek, you gasped and pulled back in shock.
Aang smirked, “don’t give me that look. You’re being bratty now. It’s not very nice so why should I be?”
Your lips formed a pout.
“Well…I’m sorry. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
He shrugged. “Good.”
“Enough?”
“No.”
“Ugh,” you pulled away from his lap and stood, sighing to yourself.
He leaned back on his hands and watched you again. The burning feel of his eyes on you made your body react as if he’d still had his hands on you. It was maddening. He was maddening.
“Baby,” he called for you in that sweet tone of his that he knew always worked on you. “Come back. You were saying something earlier. Was it about continuing what we were doing in the other room?”
You started to pull on another gown as you answered him over your shoulder.
“Earlier? That was like 30 seconds ago, grandpa.”
Aang groaned, “So mean to me,” and fell the rest of the way, now flat on the bed and staring up at the ceiling.
He didn’t say anything at first so you continued to dress, silently wishing the heat from the hearth could reach all the way to the bedroom. Then again, the upper floor of your home had more space than the others. Which meant it took longer for it to get cool and warm at times.
Once your new gown was lazily tied at the hip, you turned and just…stared. Aang’s eyes were closed. You knew that he wasn’t sleeping just yet, but the lax of his face… It made him look like he was. From the dark fullness of his brows, to the slope of his nose and finally to the soft of his lips that were parted. His chest sunk and rose steadily, his body still as if he was at peace in the silence.
As your eyes drifted lower, you couldn’t help but notice how well defined he was. Years and years of evasive combat training, honing his endurance in stamina and breath control as well as conditioning his mobility to perfect aerial techniques. It came from immense focus and strength that was learned, not necessarily taught.
Aang understood that better than anyone. Despite the fact that he was the Avatar, he learned early on that life was never meant to be handed to him. So he earned it, and perfected himself by doing it all on his own. Once he’d become comfortable with using all four elements, he trained in three until they became as familiar as air bending.
Toned, disciplined and strengthened by all of his hard work truly did pay off, just not in the way he had intended it to.
Honestly, it was completely unfair.
The quiet rise and fall of his chest drew your attention lower, expanding and tracing over defined muscle that was softened only slightly by exhaustion. Even after months of being away, his body still carried that same dangerous balance of gentleness and strength that always managed to unravel you far too easily.
There was not a single part of him built for stillness; not truly. Even laid across the bed in silence, he looked capable of movement at any given moment, like the wind itself rested beneath his skin.
And it did because spirits.
Maybe it was the lanternlight. Maybe it was the relief of having him home and alive where you could finally touch him again, but looking at him now made warmth pool low in your stomach in a way that almost annoyed you.
Because this was Aang.
Your Aang.
The same man that had frustrated you to tears only an hour ago now had you standing there in nothing but a thin gown while your thoughts betrayed you in the most depraved of ways.
You looked at him with a hunger that felt insatiable. Like the moment on the rug moments ago had only lit the fire within you, not put it out.
Slowly and quietly, you crept back up to the bed. You were trying to be stealthy, much like a shirshu. They were patient hunters, and earned their prey by tracking silently while being unsettlingly precise. However, the moment your knee dipped into the mattress, hands found your waist and within half of a breath, you were on your back with a real predator hovering over you.
Did he just airbend—?
Aang’s eyes roamed over your fluttering chest, moving them up to your lips and finally to the surprised gleam in your eyes.
A giggle bubbled from your throat, “You could’ve let me think I had that one.”
“Sorry pretty,” he leaned down and skimmed his nose along the column of your neck. “Maybe next time.”
Giving you a single kiss right at the center, Aang pulled back and was on his feet now. He peered down at you, noticing the new gown that you were wearing. He frowned before pouting, but he didn’t comment. Instead, his tattooed hands glided down your calves until his fingers closed around your ankles. Both of you shared a knowing look before he pulled you right up against his pelvis, helping you lock your legs at his waist.
“Aang—”
“Do you still want more?”
His question caught you off guard, but went right to your aching cunt nonetheless. His arousal felt hard and prominent against you, throbbing with the promise of ruining you. You didn’t dare look down. You knew what you would see. You could feel it.
“Yes.”
His deft fingers languidly pulled at the strings that kept your gown closed, and watched it fall apart to reveal your body to him once again. He caught the groan before it left his throat, opting to clench his jaw instead. The want to be inside of you ruled over his body’s need to sleep away the exhaustion of his long journey back home, back to you. He’d tasted you. Now, he wanted to feel you.
“So beautiful….” He bent down and twisted a bit to the side to spread kisses along your navel and up to valley of your breasts. “So mine…”
Aang reached a hand up to gently twist and tug at a nipple, earning a blissful sigh from you that sounded heavenly through the fog of his mind. He didn’t stop to let you breathe. He shifted his hips so that he could grind his erection directly against the bareness of your cunt, fully aware that it would sully the pants he had on. All for the better, really. The more transparent the fabric became, the closer he felt to you. He could bet all of the moon peaches in the world that you were just as warm and as wet as his mind conjured during the nights he’d spent alone.
He’d felt it earlier when he had his fingers inside you but he was smart enough to know that there was a difference between using his fingers and using something far more sensitive and connecting.
“Ahh, Aang,” you whined near his ear as his lips traveled back up to your neck.
He felt the tip of his arousal snag at your clit, causing him to push his face into your skin, hissing and gripping at your breast. He knew he could end the torturing of all this but there was just something so pathetic and primal about rutting against you like this. Perhaps it was also a result of his hazy mind and exhaustion creeping back in. Or maybe it had something to do with how you sounded whenever his length passed through the soaked folds of your pretty cunt.
Yeah. It was probably that, actually.
Though, as much as he enjoyed the thought of turning your brain into mush from a mere grinding session, he wanted something far more rewarding.
“Hold on,” he told you before pulling himself back. Quicker than he was trying to, he’d shucked off his pants and kicked them somewhere in the dark to be dealt with later.
During the brief intermission, you’d decided to move further up in bed, closer to the wooden headboard. The bed was big enough to comfortably fit several people in it so it was a bit funny when you thought back to the reason it was made this size.
Aang hadn’t always been so tall so his growth spurt shocked everyone. Somewhere along the way, a twin sized bed no longer seemed appropriate. He would always complain about his aching back or the way his legs would practically hang off of the ends. By that point, it was time to upsize.
You didn’t remove your gown completely. You just pulled it up your thighs to rest openly at your waist so that when Aang finally resettled in the valley of them, there was finally nothing that stood between you and him.
Except, when he did join you in bed, he’d noticed that you were a bit too far up and as he rested further down, he tilted his head. You recognized the look in his eyes, and felt your stomach jolt.
“Aang—ah!”
He bended the wind between his palms and your ankles, letting the current pull you down exactly where he needed you. His smirk met your flushed pout.
“Perfect.”
You rolled your eyes, wanting to look away. “Show off.”
The heavy weight of his cock settled painfully present against your cunt, oozing strings of precum that made you hyper aware of how badly he wanted you. Well, that wasn’t the only sign. From his chest up to his face, his skin was flushed. Even through the dark cover of the room, you could see the neediness in his eyes. A swirling grey that quietly confessed how much he’d truly longed for this moment. By the looks of him, you couldn’t even imagine how he was able to survive all of that time away from you.
“Better?” You asked him, feeling him twitch against you.
He simply nodded, lips parted, before wrapping a hand around himself. His eyes dropped down to look at how wet you were while you watched him. Slow, leisure strokes that made the muscles in his arm flex and the veins atop his hand push against his skin. Your mouth salivated, noticing the crease in his brows as he used his other hand to spread your folds apart. Sticky and shiny, and so fucking pretty.
He groaned and tightened his hand at the base of his length, letting out a slow deep breath. When he peeked back up at you, his heart almost stopped.
The way you were still watching him, a hand at your breast gripping and pulling at the sensitive bud with your bottom lip stuck between your teeth—
He must’ve died long before he came back home. This was it, his own little oasis in the spirit world.
Nothing in the entire world could compare to this moment.
And he meant nothing.
“Aang…”
He felt you before he heard you, the softness of your hand brushing his cheek. When his vision reorientated back on you, he saw the gentle smile on your face.
“I’m right here,” you said to him in the same soft way you touched him, grounding him again. “I’m real and here.”
Aang felt you pull at his wrist, tugging him down until the tip of his nose pressed against yours. His hands found themselves caging you, being careful to hold most of his weight. You tilted your head and ghosted your lips over his.
“My perfect husband,” you whispered, his back rippling with shivers that he tried to hide but couldn't. As your hands moved over his shoulders and along his back, you’d felt it. “So good to me…so perfect for me…”
When the tips of your fingers trickled down the line of his spine, he let out a whine that made you clench around nothing. It didn't sound like anything you'd heard from him before and maybe that was due to the time that the two of you had to spend apart. Two months had been the longest, and definitely the hardest. You'd felt the strain of it on your end but realizing what it must have been like for Aang, a man that loved beyond the limitations of the air nomadic ways; it was surely just as painful as a loss.
You'd cried many nights for the spirits to bring your husband back home safe and had the support of Katara during it all, but Aang had dealt with the torment alone.
There was still that lingering tension underneath his skin that he'd made sure to hide well from you but you could feel it; could feel him unraveling. You could tell that he was no longer able to keep it buried inside and away from you.
"Please," he begged you, leaving a trail of kisses from your collarbone to your ear. "Need to be inside you. Please."
And who were you to deny him when you needed him just as badly?
"I think you've kept me waiting long enough," you told him as you reached down the small space between your bodies. Once your fingers wrapped around him, his breath trembled as if he was going to fall to pieces before making it the rest of the way.
He gripped at the pillows underneath you, grinding his teeth together. He was fighting to hold it together. He'd wanted this moment to last, but could feel himself unthreading.
The moment you lined the head of his cock up to your twitching cunt, your hands moved to the curve of his ass and started to push him into you. He gasped into your neck, and groaned when the tip of his cock popped past the first ring of muscle. He shook his head in pure disbelief. You'd felt better than he'd remembered. It almost made him delirious.
Aang swore under his breath, feeling you push him in further. Clenching onto him the minute he split you apart, it almost sent him over the edge.
"If you knew what you felt like being wrapped around me like this," he breathed near your ear, "you'd lose your mind too."
"I know baby, I know," you kissed his cheek and jaw, feeling him fill you up until the fullness of him was all that you could feel. “And you’re doing such a good job…”
There was no escaping him now. No where for you to run or hide. He had you fully pressed into the mattress, arms blocking you in and his cock sunk so deep, it made you move your hands back up to the broadness of his back to help anchor you.
"Mmm, aang, you feel so good inside me," you wrapped your legs around his waist, moaning at how snug he felt. It felt so right, so perfect, you almost didn't want him to move but knew that if he didn't, he wasn't going to last long at all.
Once every inch of him was inside, he took in a breath while you exhaled. You allowed him the time he needed to ground himself before watching him lean up. Your eyes had gotten used to the dark and could see the concentrated look on his face as he moved his hands to your hips. His eyes dropped down to where the both of you were connected, and finally breathed out.
Everything about you drove him insane. Even when you’d finally given yourself to him, every single part of you, he still couldn’t get enough. He needed more of you. He wanted to push his body into yours until he was able to combine your souls into one. Claim your entire essence and being as his, marked forever as the one that saved him from himself.
You were his beaming light amongst the black ocean of his heart.
Where he was once drowning under the weight of all of his responsibilities, you saw him and pulled him out of it. How else could he thank you? Being your perfect-imperfect husband didn’t seem like enough. He wished to pull the stars down from the night sky and hand them all to you because you deserve something no one on earth could give you. Something only he was capable of giving you.
What was that? What was the very thing he could give? Something he hadn’t already given you?
It had to be none other than a promise, a proper promise that he would have to keep for as long as he lived.
He just didn’t realize that he’d known it all along. Known it since he’d made his vow to you the day of the wedding.
You could tell that something was on his mind but you didn’t pressure to ask. Instead, you waited.
Then, his eyes finally found yours again and held your gaze as he said,
“I want to make you a promise. A real one.”
You blinked, and slowly nodded.
“Yeah, okay. What promise?”
Aang’s brows furrowed as he mulled over what he wanted to say, and how he wanted to say it.
It took what felt like minutes before he said anything else, and it was not like anything you had expected him to say.
“I may not be able to promise that the world won’t need me again because it will. It always does, but I can promise that you’ll never have to wait in silence like that again.”
His thumbs rubbed across the skin of your waist, his eyes hard set on yours.
“And no matter where I go, I’ll always find my way back to you.”
Aang knew that he didn’t need to make you that promise, especially considering the conversation from earlier where there was finally a mutual understanding of how both of you felt. Even so, he could recognize how much he has truly hurt you. It wasn’t this one instance but for all of the others in the past. He wanted to make up for it all in a single promise that he vowed to never break.
You were rendered speechless. His wedding vows had been a bit different, vowing that he would always be by your side and would always put you first before any and everything, but not like this.
At the time, Aang did not foresee his duties as the Avatar and founder of Republic City getting in the way of his marriage, but he saw it now and only wanted to reassure you that you would be his true priority; that it was possible to love you and hold the world on his shoulders by doing it together.
He could see it, the tears that started to well up in your eyes and quickly shushed you, leaning down to press his lips against your forehead while holding your face. Your eyes fluttered closed, as his lips moved over each of your eyelids and to your nose.
“Don’t cry, not for this,” he whispered, kissing your cheeks now. “Because this promise to you cannot and will not be broken. Even when I’m long gone, I'll keep it. I promise…”
Your heart sunk hearing him talk like that. Just the thought of it…
“Please, Aang, don’t say that…” You sniffled, holding him back into your arms. This time, with no intention of letting him go. “You’re not allowed to go anywhere, do you hear me? Nowhere but here with me.”
“I know,” he breathed against your lips, staring back at you while using a thumb to wipe at the falling tears. “I just love you so much.”
You could see it in his eyes, the love and the utter devotion that he held for you that was unlike anything you had ever felt from someone. He looked at you like you were all that he could see.
And that was all that you could ever ask for.
“I love you so much more,” your lips pressed against his lips gently, sighing into it, feeling him return it eagerly.
He instinctively began to move his hips, rolling into you without rush but with purpose. The slow drag of his thick cock made you whimper into his opened mouth, your fingers dipping into his back.
He grunted, trailing his lips to your cheek, breathing heavily as he fucked into you deeper. Every inch, every part of you felt like pure bliss, a maze that he wanted to willingly get lost in. He didn’t care about anything else but this, you, being inside you and hearing your pretty moans. The way his name rolled off of your tongue, gasping and holding onto him like you were close to falling apart.
You were going to ruin him.
He bit down into his lip, frowning, as he reached up to hold the headboard above you. Something, anything that could keep him from losing his mind early on because he was close, dangerously close.
He kept his hand locked onto the wooden board, bracing his hulking frame as he began drilling into you with a rhythmic, punishing vigor. Every thrust was deep, deliberate and fueled by the weeks of loneliness and longing he had carried in his soul. He wasn't just fucking you. He was trying to merge with you, to bridge the gap that the distance had created between your bodies.
Aang groaned when he felt your cunt tighten around him and your hips move to match his pace.
“Fuck,” he moaned as his cock drove into you harder and faster, chasing more of you.
You choked out a sob, crying into his shoulder, your body jostling with every deliberate pound into your poor cunt he made.
“O-h, Aang! You’re so good, feel so fucking good inside of me!”
More of your begging, your nails sinking into his back, your cries and the feeling of you sucking him in with each thrust.
Call him a greedy bastard, but he wanted it all.
His movements were reckless, the bed creaking violently against the floor with every heavy impact of his hips against yours. His breath came in ragged, uneven hitches and his sweat slicked skin slid against yours, creating a feverish heat.
“Aang!” You sobbed hearing the sloppy squelch of your cunt with each unforgiving snap of his hips, feeling him directly hit that spongey spot inside of you like he was drawn to it.
He bent and kissed down until his lips found one of your perked nipples, sucking and rolling his tongue around the hard bud until he felt you shake and spill out the most prettiest moans he’d ever heard from you.
Aang was losing himself in you, and didn’t notice when his tattoos began to glow a bright blue hue. For you, it was all that you could see.
With his head lowered, you could see the arrow along his skin flickering until it was stable and illuminating, growing brighter with each ragged breath and slam of his hips against yours. His eyes were closed but you knew that those beautiful greys of his had been taken over by the same blue light.
He was terrifying to most in his avatar state but to you, he’d never looked more beautiful.
The headboard creaked under the sheer weight of his hold as he fucked you, the poor wood wailing and threatening to break under the pressure. He let out a broken groan around your skin before raising his head, his voice sounding a bit off. It sounded overlapped with more than one voice but it was still him. Desperate and filled with an overwhelming need to come as deep inside of you as humanely possible.
Your hands moved from his back to his face, holding him with care to get his attention. When he finally opened his eyes again, all you could see was an endless pool of blue. His brows were furrowed, and his forehead was beaded with sweat.
“Are you close?” All he was able to do was nod, nearly collapsing into your hands, his hips stuttering to signal that he was getting incredibly close. “Good, because I’m going to need you to cum and not pull out. Can you do that for me?”
Even through the haze of pleasure, Aang still made an expression of confusion.
“Don’t...pull out. So you want me to…?”
He left it there, knowing that you understood what he didn’t say.
You smiled, and nodded.
“Yes. Can you?”
Aang didn’t quite understand. Every time that the two of you had sex, you always made it clear he had to pull out. Pouting, he agreed but was never shy about telling you that he didn’t like it. If a baby happened, then wasn’t it meant to be? There was no better way to prevent a pregnancy, other than a certain type of tea, so pulling out was next best. Either way, Aang was not a fan but respected your boundaries nevertheless. Now, you were wanting him to…
"Wanna give you a little airbender, Aang. Would you like that?" You breathlessly asked him, feeling his hips falter at the sound of that. You smiled, stroking a thumb across his warm face. "Would be such a good mommy. Could give you everything you could ever want. Let me do it for you, Aang, please."
And that fucking did it.
Your voice, the feeling of your heated walls clamping down onto him, and you giving him permission to fill you up knowing what might happen; all of it sent him right over the edge.
He groaned out, applying more pressure to the headboard than he had intended and felt it split down the middle. The bed collapsed underneath you, surprising you but you weren't given time to assess what happened when Aang leaned down to bury his face into your neck. You felt his cock twitch and pulsate before filling you up until the mix of his thick cum and your arousal oozed out between you. His hands clutched into fists around the sheets as he tried to control his breathing.
You thought that he was done but his hips hadn't stopped. They just slowed to a steady roll, deep and intentional.
"Aang..." You whined under your breath, your arms wrapped loosely around his neck. Your body was nearly exhausted, but you weren't there yet. Could that be his reason?
He didn't say anything. He just kept moving inside of you, kissing at your neck. He shivered, feeling the way your cunt fluttered around him as your calves slid back into place, ankles firmly locked. He hummed, one of his hands sliding down your side until they reached your thighs to grip at them.
“Want you to cum around me,” he muttered low into the warmth of your neck, lazily smiling. “Can you do that for me?”
When he looked at you, you’d noticed that his greys were back and the arrows along his forehead and his back had dimmed back to their normal blue. It made your face warm.
“Yes.”
“Good girl,” he praised, and used his arm to hold himself up while his other hand continued its trek down to your neglected clit. “And don’t think I forgot about her.”
As soon as his middle finger started to draw lazy circles before gradually moving a bit faster while letting his hips roll into you at the same pace, you squealed. You hand instantly reached down to hold onto his wrist as he abused the sensitive little nub, crying out.
“Ah, please!”
Aang was embarrassed to admit but aiming for your pleasure instead of his and watching your face twist up knowing that he was the reason, it made him ten times harder. There was nothing better than servicing you and making you feel good. It was just the simple fact that he had already came.
But who said he couldn’t do it again?
No matter how many times he did this with you, it would always feel like the first. There was just something about being with you in such an intimate way and connecting beyond a conversation or doing anything else together. He was very spiritual and believed that sex was a very sacred act. It was something he would never do with anyone else. Doing this with you, with his wife, felt like the highest form of his love for you.
When he felt your nails dig into the skin of his wrist and your cunt tighten around his cock again, he let out a ragged breath that was mixed with a laugh.
“You’re so tight, it feels like you’re going to cut off the circulation down there.”
You whined out his name, breathless, trying not to laugh at his untimely joke.
“Stop.”
“I’m being serious,” he said, letting another chuckle before groaning out and looking down at you. “Gonna cum, my love?”
You nodded with teary eyes, moving your hand up to his bicep, feeling it flex under your fingers.
“Mhm.”
“Yeah?”
“Aang—”
“Let me feel it.”
He leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours, eyebrows knitted together, fighting to concentrate.
“Please, let me feel it…”
You moaned out his name again and again, your head spinning, being unable to feel anything but his cock fucking into you and his fingers moving against your clit like it was his last day on earth. His whisperings of telling you how pretty you sounded and how much he loved you was all too much. You couldn’t handle it.
With one more sharp inhale and slam into your hips, your back arched and felt a wave of ecstasy crash into you, leaving you trembling and mumbling a string of nonsense that made Aang follow right behind you. You were too warm, too tight, his release spilled into you again, plugged and just as filled as the first.
Both of you stayed just like that, foreheads together and panting into each other as the comfortable silence of the night finally took over.
After a few moments of him trying to catch his breath, he smiled softly and kissed your nose.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, hm?”
You were relieved when he moved off of the bed and walked towards the washroom because your entire body refused to move even an inch. In fact, you were very close to falling asleep if not for the warm, damp feeling of a cloth against your inner thighs and over your mound. He knew your legs were going to instinctively twitch closed so he used his hands to keep them pried apart until he finally finished up.
After properly discarding the small towel, he scooped you into his arms so that he could work on the bed.
At first, it took him a moment. Now that he was able to actually see the bed from a different angle, the headboard lowered the bed quite unevenly. The damage wasn’t bad at all, it would just take a few minutes to brainstorm how to fix it. It was definitely going to be a temporary fix, but he knew it would hold long enough for a good night’s sleep.
Still, the idea of him as the avatar, master of all four elements, being humbled by a broken headboard after wrecking it with his wife—it definitely felt like a very comical irony.
But, someone had to do it so, he got to work.
Aang knew that the only way to go about this was to use air to reposition the splintered pieces back into place, or as close as he could, and then smooth some of the rough cracks. Luckily, it wasn’t completely split down the middle so it was fixable. He just knew that come morning, he would need to fully replace the bed.
Once that was done, he moved onto what was next.
As he held you with one arm and replaced the bedding with his other, you couldn’t help but stare up at him. You knew that he knew you were looking at him, judging by the small grin on his face, but he didn’t say anything and neither did you. You just watched him impressively use one arm to do things that would normally take two to do.
Once the bed was replaced with clean linen and warm blankets, Aang gently placed you back down, joining you now. He shifted onto his back and pulled you into him by your waist. You hummed, curving a leg up and over his thighs, your hand across his chest.
The silence continued and just when you were about to fall asleep, you heard the softness of his voice.
“Three days from now, I’ll be leaving again.”
Because it was engrained in your body, your first reaction was your stomach dropping. Still, you calmed your breathing and chose not to say anything. You remembered what he’d said to you earlier. His words on the balcony, his promise to you now, they all meant something. He wouldn’t do that only to lie to you, so you breathed.
Aang could tell that it had shaken you, telling by the stiffness of your body against his. He smiled a bit to himself before his eyes fell down to the crown of your head.
“And I want you to come with me.”
Your head shot up, meeting the playful glint in his eyes. Your heart skipped a beat.
“Do you really?”
His hand, that rested at your hip, stroked along your skin, his gaze holding yours.
“I made a promise to you, right?”
He placed a warm kiss to your forehead, making your face split into a smile also.
“I know…but hey! Don’t say that like you have to tag me along!” You pouted.
“I’m not, I swear!” He exclaimed with a brighter smile and laugh that shook his shoulders. “I want you to come with me. I want to travel the skies with you, scour and gather more airbender relics and maybe stop at different places just for the fun of it. Maybe help people along the way, but I want to do all of those things with you by my side this time.”
“Even if it gets dangerous?”
Aang paused for a moment and just looked at you. There was a tiny worry that he was taking the silence to rethink his decision to bring you along when he spoke again.
“You can handle yourself. I know that and when you can’t, I’ll be there to protect you. No matter what we face, we’ll face it together.”
It felt like your heart had crawled out of its hiding hole somewhere in your stomach and had soared right through your chest. It was all that you’d wanted to hear from him. To be able to still love him as deeply as you did and to be able to accept him for who he was to the people of the nations—it was the perfect middle ground. There was never a need to ‘fix’ you or him.
Instead, balance was all you ever needed and you knew you would always find that with him.
Your eyes fell to his lips and back up to the shining grey of his eyes.
“I love you.”
His hand moved from your hip to the nape of your neck, gently pulling you closer.
“And I love you.”
When your lips met, it was softer this time; slower. The kind of kiss that carried understanding within it rather than desperation.
You and Aang knew that there would still be difficult days ahead. That there would be arguments, distance and that familiar sense of fear that came with being the wife of the Avatar. Loving Aang would never come without sacrifice and being loved by you would always leave parts of him frighteningly exposed.
But this—this felt like balance.
Like finally meeting one another in the middle after spending so much time pulling at opposite ends.
And somehow, within the quiet warmth of his mouth against yours and the steady hand cradling the back of your neck, tomorrow no longer felt so frightening.
It felt like a promise for a new beginning.
༄ ... mini bonus scene ! ... ༄
The next day was spent making up for lost time.
Which basically means you and Aang barely left the bedroom to eat or even drink water.
Still, despite the time that you'd spent with him, you made sure not to forget about your visit with Katara the next day after that.
When you and Aang arrived, Sokka had answered the door and was happy to see you but as soon as he saw Aang, he'd nearly tackled his taller friend to the ground.
"You're back?! I had no idea you were back!" Sokka exclaimed with a wide smile that instantly turned into a frown, playfully hitting Aang's shoulder.
"Ow?" Aang rose a brow, rubbing his arm with a smile back.
"Don't 'ow' me! You could've let your best friend know you were back all this time, sheesh," Sokka shook his head, scratching his neck. "Some friend you are."
Katara came up next to her brother, and pinched at his ear like they were teens all over again.
"Leave Aang alone. He came back like, two days ago. What are you on about?"
"Sokka," You heard Suki whine in the background. "Give the poor guy a break. He did just come back."
Sokka sweatdropped, looking at the four of you before his eyes stopped on you. He smirked, and fully leaned against the door frame.
"Oh, did he now," He nodded, looking as if he knew something no one else did. "Yep, bet he did come."
Aang's eyes widened and so did yours. That was all Sokka could get out before Katara took him and his ear further into the house, giving him a real good talking to. He'd looked to Suki to help him, claiming that just because they were married, she had to protect him. She only smiled, and continued helping Zuko.
Both of you laughed and stepped inside, seeing Zuko setting up the last part of a banner that said, 'Welcome home, Aang.'
"Aw, guys," Aang pouted at the banner and his friends. "You shouldn't have!"
"Yeah, well, we almost didn't, twinkletoes," Toph grumbled rather loudly to herself, digging her pinky deep off into her ear. "I told them its a complete waste of time. You'll only end up knocking it to the-"
Before she could finish her sentence, Aang used his airbending to bring the gaang all together for a group hug, causing the banner to fly right off of the wooden beam it was expertly attached to. Toph, squeezed right between Sokka and Zuko huffed.
"-ground."
She sighed.
You couldn't help but smile as they all started to laugh, even Toph, catching her shake her head. Suki had her face squished into Sokka's, Katara had her arm around you and Zuko while Aang's long arms nearly wrapped around everyone.
As you melted into the group hug, you couldn't imagine being anywhere else in the world but with your husband and the best group of friends anyone could ever ask for.
༄ author’s end note: tysm for reading! don't forget to tell me your thoughts in the comments and leave a like/reblog! i would lovee to know what you guys think as this may not be my one and only piece of work in this fandom (wink, wink). time will tell... ~
he’s stupidly attractive and he knows it. that’s the worst part. he knows he fucking hot and he uses it to his advantage.
while you’re under him, he takes your hand, runs it down his bare body and watches you bite your lip. he lets you trace your fingers between his abs, circling them around the muscle while he chuckles lowly. still pushing back into you with his other hand heavy on your hip, kneading the plush that sat there.
when you start to move your hand on your own, he knows you’re too coherent. that he wants to get you hotter than you already were. he fucks a little rougher, pulling you back into his every thrust just to watch your breath hitch and your hand fall. dick taunts you by your ear as he leans over. his voice making you heady with how whiny and possessive he got. how much power he had in his movements that you could never really deny him when he made you feel like this.
“such a dirty girl,” sighing the words as his hands trail to your stomach. “letting me fuck you like this, shit—”
his hand meets with the bulge he made inside you. touching the depths and leaving it bare just to kiss your cervix again. it’s like he knows where to hit and how to hit it. exactly how to make you bend and squirm but also how to keep you pliant as he does it.
grayson is the type of enjoy how broken up you get at his movements too, purposefully prolonging the sensations that he’s memorized how you react. he wants to bring you to the absolute edge and then suddenly take it away because he likes how it ruins you. he loses it at how you whine and scratch at him. the sounds you make is what makes him continue until you finally cry and beg him to let you come. tears staining your cheeks at the overstimulation. that’s when he shushes you quietly and brushes your hair from your face to tell you he’ll give it to you. that he will stop being a tease and that he’s sorry.
though he says it like he’s not sorry at all.
when he kisses you it’s like all resemblance of yourself goes out the window. sometimes he uses it like a way you keep you quieter while he fucks you in his old bedroom at the manor. he whispers by your ear, you don’t wanna get caught, do you?
his hands spanning up your sides to hold you there and keep you right where he wants you. he knows exactly what he’s doing. although most of the time, he kisses you so he can feel how your breath shakes. lips locked on yours while he moves just a little faster right as you try to say something. you’ll open your mouth to speak, maybe pull back to breathe deeper when he hits a particularly sensitive spot. reaching as deep as he can while your lips part against his mouth and he laughs.
his stamina is absolutely insane. skilled and athletic like he was trained for this kind of thing. and fuck, he has the body to prove it. he doesn’t cum until you have enough times that you lose count. when you’re quite literally shaking and fucked out, that’s when he chases his own high. but that doesn’t mean he won’t paint you white when you beg for it. in fact, he’ll fuck you so full that it could gush out onto the sheets, making a wet spot from your mixed arousal. he loves how you look when he pushes on your stomach and lets it flood around him all over again. it’s like a ritual after patrol when he’s needy.
you’re hardly even surprised when he pulls you onto his lap and asks you to ride him but guides your hips the whole time. he praises you even when he’s doing the work. leaning up to kiss your chest and mumble about how good you’re doing. how he knows you’re tired but he loves you so much.
he’s equally sensual when you collapse onto his chest after the nth time. maneuvering you to your back to clean you up with his relentless tongue. too tired to do anything but mumble and melt into the mattress. then he’ll hold you to his chest while he puts something on the television and laughs at their jokes like he’s not even exhausted from what he’d just done to you.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
10 minutes left until the new year began meant 10 minutes for you and clark to make use of. and did that mean being laid naked on the living room table with your head dangling off the edge and clark’s head buried in between your legs? yes, yes it did
“oh my god— clark” you moaned his name when you felt his tongue lick a long stripe on your throbbing clit. your hips jerked as a reaction, but they barely moved due to clark arms hooked tightly around your legs
“tastes so good” clark murmured on your cunt, his tongue immediately speeding to resume its previous pace. “mm, mmm” this man was so pussy drunk he was blabbering every thought that was in his mind
“could stay here all day”
“oh honey” you couldn’t tell if he was calling you that or if he was calling your pussy that. but hell, you couldn’t focus— not when clark kent was on a mission to eat your soul out.
your eyes were fixed on the window, and the window only due to your head being off the table edge. the city lights were bright and almost sparkling within the night sky. even though your view was upside down, you could also see the reflection just well— your hand buried in clark’s black hair and his strong, meaty arms hooking your legs in place, noticing the faint claw marks you placed on his back.
but your ogling was interrupted the moment you felt your pleasure slowly building up from the angles his tongue was hitting with his pace.
“just like that” you panted right before your breath hitched and a moan left your swollen lips. “fuuuuck right there, clark”
your clit was throbbing like crazy on his tongue, your grip in his hair tightening and shoving his face deeper. clark let out a muffled moan, rolling his eyes to the back of his head, his nose practically nudging your cunt from how deep his face was shoved
“clark— clark im gonna—"
“make a mess” clark panted on your cunt, his hot breath making a dragged whine of his name leave your lips as he begged. “please sweetheart, wanna—“ lick. “—make you—“ lick. “—cum” lick.
he didn’t have to say twice because your orgasm was now coming out the moment he finished whispering those words. just in time because the clock struck midnight and the fireworks started to appear from the window, colors blasting and appearing beautifully over the night sky that added with the city lights, truly awakening the night
yet even with the beautiful sight in front of you, your gaze was still focused on clark’s reflection when you felt him speeding up even more to make sure not one drop leaked from your cunt
“delicious” he muttered, taking every drop of your cum like a starved animal. “love it when you’re soakin’ my chin”
happy new year!
—————————————————————————
masterlist!
(a/n: too long for a drabble but still a drabble + star you KNEWWWWWW what you were doing when you came to my dms with this revolutionary idea)
AVATAR AANG and girlfriend!reader somehow end up stuck inside the cave of two lovers, and a simple kiss turns into a make-out.
THE LAST BACKBENDER! WHATT????????
PLOT. on a small trip near omashu, you and aang stumble into the cave of two lovers and find yourselves trapped inside, wandering deeper as he slowly begins to recognize it. when you ask how he managed to get out the first time, he is forced to admit the truth about a kiss he once shared with katara. amused more than anything, you take it upon yourself to rewrite that memory—determined that this cave remains true to it's name.
CHARACTERS. AVATAR AANG.
WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, fluff, aged-up characters, no movie spoilers (cause i haven't watched it yet), established relationship, making out, fingering, p in v, no protection, creampie, he glows when he cums, fem reader, kinda proofread.
WC. 5.3k
masterlist
a/n: I have not watched the movie, so NO SPOILERS PLEASE. which also means i don't really know what his personality is like as a young adult, i just winged it. the only dialogue of his i know is "be honest, you're enjoying this!" and you sure as hell know i used it in this fic ahahhaha.
The entrance had not looked like much at first; it seemed like just another break in the rock, half-hidden behind curling vines, but Aang had tilted his head the moment he noticed it, his interest growing before curiosity pulled him closer.
You had followed without question, used to the way he moved through the world, drawn toward anything that piqued his interest. Now, several turns later, the daylight had long since disappeared, Aang summoning a small fire in the palm of his hands as a source of light.
The tunnel had gentle slopes, and the air was cooler underground. Your footsteps echoed softly, swallowed and returned in uneven whispers, while Aang walked a little ahead before slowing enough for you to catch up, his fingers finding yours without thought.
"This place..." he murmured, his voice lower than usual, thoughtful rather than wary. His eyes traced the walls, the carved edges, the worn pathways.
"It feels familiar."
You glanced around, squinting slightly into the dimness. "Familiar? How? Because right now it just feels like we've made a terrible decision."
Aang huffed out a soft laugh at that, glancing back at you with something brighter in his expression, the seriousness easing a bit. "Hey, I've made way worse decisions."
"Comforting," you said dryly, though your hand tightened around his.
Your shoulders brushed every few steps. walking slowly as he said nothing, only observing, his attention moving with quiet focus over the structure of the tunnel.
Then his brows knit together, something clicking into place.
"It reminds me of a cave near Omashu," he said, more certain now, though there was still a trace of disbelief in his tone. "A tunnel, actually. It led all the way through the mountain."
You tilted your head, interest catching. "You've been here before?"
"Not here," he replied, shaking his head, though his gaze drifted ahead again, searching. "But something really similar. Even the air feels the same."
You glanced around the dim stretch of stone, then back at him, a thought forming. "But we are close to Omashu," you said, your voice full of quiet curiosity. "This could be the same tunnel."
Aang stopped for a moment as he looked more closely at the walls, tracing the curves and worn edges with his eyes.
"Maybe," he said, though he still sounded unsure. "It doesn't feel exactly the same. The surroundings were...different back then."
You studied him for a moment, catching onto that detail more than anything else. "How long ago was that?"
He paused.
"...uh, a while," he started, his hand lifting to rub the back of his head, "like... a decade ago."
There was a lightness in his voice when he spoke, but you could hear the thread of memory beneath it. You watched him for a moment instead of the path, noticing the way his steps had sped up again.
"Well," you said after a beat, nudging his arm gently with your shoulder, "if this turns out to be one of your past adventures coming back to haunt us, I'd like to formally say I should've known better."
Aang's lips curved, that familiar softness returning to his expression as he turned toward you fully this time. "You love my adventures."
"I love you," you corrected, unable to stop the small smile that followed, "your adventures are... negotiable."
That earned you a quiet laugh, warmer this time, and before you could react, he pulled you towards him to press a quick kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a second. When he pulled back, his thumb brushed lightly against your hand.
"Good," he said softly, "because I'm not giving those up."
"I wouldn't let you," you replied, just as soft.
He turned forward again. He didn't let go of your hand, his thumb tracing small, idle patterns against your skin as you walked. Then, gradually, the path widened.
The walls opened into a broader space, the ceiling rising higher above you, and something about the air shifted again. Aang slowed immediately, his grip tightening just slightly before he let go altogether, stepping ahead with a quiet sort of focus that replaced the earlier warmth.
"...wait," he said under his breath, more to himself than to you.
Your gaze followed his, landing on the shape ahead. A stone doorway carved into the wall that looked to have had its entrance broken in.
Aang almost couldn't fathom it. I might just be the same tunnel, recalling how Appa had helped them get inside.
Walking through the doorway, you looked around in awe as you set into the heart of the chamber. You quickly realized it was a Tomb.
You stepped closer beside him, your earlier ease fading into curiosity, and Aang exhaled slowly as he took it in. You leaned forward slightly, peering over the edge as the realization settled in that the tomb floor sat lower than where you stood, the drop just enough to make you pause.
Your brows knit together faintly, your gaze searching for any sign of stairs, any carved steps hidden along the stone, but before you could even ask, Aang's hand found your waist without warning.
In one smooth motion, he pulled you in and dropped down with you, a soft current of air swirling beneath your feet to ease the descent. You didn't flinch, your hands instinctively settling against his shoulders.
"Let me check something," he said, his voice quieter now.
Aang moved closer to the tomb, and you slowed your steps, giving him space without fully stepping away. He crouched slightly, brushing his fingers over the stone, not just in reverence but in recognition, his gaze shifting across the carvings with growing certainty.
"Yeah... I thought so," he murmured, more to himself than to you, a small smile tugging at his lips.
You stepped closer, leaning just enough to catch a glimpse of what he was seeing.
"You're starting to sound very sure for someone who said this only reminded him of a place."
He huffed out a quiet breath, glancing up at you with a hint of sheepishness before straightening.
"I didn't want to say it too soon and be wrong," he admitted. He turned slightly, gesturing toward the wall behind the tomb.
"There should be a carving here. If it's the same cave, then it's definitely this place."
You followed him, curiosity pulling you along more than anything else now as Aang increased the flame in his hand, and sure enough, etched strongly into the stone was a large mural— two figures reaching toward each other for a kiss.
Aang stepped closer to it. "Yeah," he said, this time with complete certainty, "it's the same one."
You folded your arms loosely, tilting your head as you looked between the painting and him.
"So, you've actually been here before," you said, your tone carrying a note of quiet intrigue.
"Mhm. Back when I was traveling with my friends," he replied.
"Well...what's their story then?" At your words, he turned back toward the tomb, exhaling softly.
"We should probably sit," he answered after a beat, glancing at you again, his voice almost inviting. "This might take a minute to explain."
"Now I'm definitely interested," you said, though you didn't hesitate, walking across and sitting down, back against the wall, the cool stone grounding beneath you. Aang followed, settling close as your knees brushed, his shoulder leaning lightly against yours.
His gaze lingered on the mural across from you, his fingers resting loosely against his knee, tapping once, twice, in quiet rhythm, as if he were deciding where to begin. Then he glanced at you, that small, almost bashful smile returning, the one that always appeared when he was about to tell you something personal.
"So," he started, shifting slightly so he faced you more fully, though his voice remained calm, steady, "this cave is based on an old story. It's about two people who weren't supposed to be together."
You raised a brow, leaning your head lightly against his shoulder as you listened, your hand finding his almost absentmindedly.
"Already sounds dramatic."
Aang let out a soft laugh at that, his fingers curling around yours in response.
"It kind of is," he admitted.
"They came from two different villages that were at war with each other, but they fell in love anyway."
Your fingers tightened slightly around his at that, your attention fully caught now, and he continued, his voice steady, as he told the story he had heard before but never forgotten.
"They wanted to be together, but they couldn't just walk into each other's villages, so they created this tunnel," he said, gesturing faintly around you, though his gaze drifted back toward the mural again.
"A secret path through the mountain, so they could meet in the middle without anyone knowing."
You followed his gaze, taking in the faded figures once more, the story settling into place around you, giving the cave a meaning it hadn't held before.
"And the tomb?" you asked quietly, your voice softer now.
Aang's expression shifted just slightly, the warmth dimming into something more subdued, though it didn't lose its gentleness.
"They didn't get a happy ending," he said, not lingering on it, but not avoiding it either. "The war found them eventually."
Aang exhaled softly before glancing back at you, the faint smile returning.
"But their love was strong enough that the cave still remembers it, that is how the name Omashu came to be. Their names were Oma and Shu," he added.
"That's what the story says, anyway."
You hummed softly. "So this whole place exists because two people refused to stay apart."
"Yeah," he said. "Something like that."
A quiet wrapped around you, but it didn't feel empty. And yet, there was something beneath it, waiting just at the edge of the moment.
Aang's gaze flickered briefly toward the darkness stretching deeper into the chamber, then back to you, his expression shifting in a way that hinted there was more to this than he had told you so far.
But he didn't say it—at least, not yet.
For a while, the story lingered between you, settling into the quiet of the chamber. The faint glow in the cave came from Aang's palm, the small, steady flame he held with careful control. It flickered gently with each subtle movement of his hand, just enough to keep the darkness from swallowing the two of you whole.
"So," you said, your voice breaking the silence, "if you've been here before... how did you get out?"
Aang's fingers stilled against yours.
It was subtle, the shift, but you felt it immediately in the way his thumb stopped its slow tracing, the way his shoulders drew slightly inwards, his lips caving softly into themselves.
You tilted your head, studying him now, a small, knowing smile beginning to form. "Aang," you pressed lightly, nudging his arm with yours, "that was a very suspicious pause."
"I—" he started, then stopped just as quickly, exhaling through a quiet, almost embarrassed laugh. His free hand lifted to the back of his neck, rubbing it in that familiar, absent gesture you had come to recognize whenever he didn't quite know how to say something.
"It's not suspicious," he said, though the faint color rising to his cheeks didn't exactly support that claim. His eyes flickered toward you for a brief second before darting away again, the fire in his palm wavering ever so slightly.
You leaned in just a little, your shoulder pressing into his, "Then why won't you tell me?"
"I will," he insisted quickly, though it came out a touch too fast, betraying him again. He huffed under his breath, shaking his head once, as if trying to gather himself, before finally glancing back at you.
"...Okay," he admitted quietly, his voice lowering, "it's just—"
He stopped again, and this time you couldn't help the small laugh that slipped out, your fingers tightening around his hand.
"You're making this worse for yourself," you murmured, your tone gentle but unmistakably teasing.
"I know," he groaned softly, though there was no real frustration in it. He glanced away once more, then back at you, and this time he didn't look away again.
"The way out..." he began, slower now, choosing his words more carefully, "it wasn't something we figured out right away."
You raised a brow, waiting.
"The cave is kind of... special," he continued, the faintest hint of a smile returning, though it carried that same bashfulness.
"It reacts to certain things. More specifically, love."
"Okayyyy?" you said, dragging the word out slightly, your eyes narrowing just enough to show you weren't going to let him off that easily.
"And?"
Aang inhaled, then let it out in a quiet breath, the firelight flickering across his face as his composure slipped just a little.
"...and the way out of the cave," he said, voice softer now, "is a kiss."
You blinked.
For a moment, you simply stared at him, processing it. And then your expression shifted.
"...a kiss," you repeated slowly, your lips twitching despite yourself. "And how, exactly, did you figure that out?"
Aang froze. His gaze dropped again, and this time the flush on his face deepened so much that it made your smile widen almost instantly.
"Oh," you said, far more amused as the realization set in. "Oh, you didn't just figure it out, did you?"
He let out a quiet, defeated sigh, the corners of his lips tugging upward despite his embarrassment. "Not exactly."
You shifted closer, turning toward him more fully now.
"Aang," you said, your voice gentle but unmistakably playful, "who did you kiss in a secret cave to escape?"
He groaned under his breath, though the sound was muffled by the small laugh that followed, his free hand finding his face.
"You're enjoying this way too much."
"I really am," you admitted without hesitation, your eyes bright with curiosity now.
He hesitated only for a second longer before giving in, his gaze lifting to meet yours again, the embarrassment still there.
"It was Katara," he said, finally.
You didn't look surprised.
If anything, your smile only softened. You had known, of course, you had heard the stories, the way his friends still teased him from time to time. Still, hearing it like this, from him, in this place, carried a different kind of weight.
"Of course it was," you murmured, your tone light, reaching your hand out to uncover his face and entangling your hands once more, your fingers tightening gently around his.
"Your first kiss, in a glowing cave, with the girl you had a very obvious crush on."
Aang huffed out a small laugh at that, shaking his head, though he didn't deny it.
"I didn't think it was that obvious."
"Sokka says you used to get all awkward around her," you said, nudging his shoulder with yours, your grin widening just slightly.
"Apparently, you did the same thing when we first met."
He blinked at that, then let out a quiet, incredulous laugh. "Hey, that's not fair!"
"It's completely fair," you replied easily, your voice softening as you leaned in just enough to brush your lips against his cheek, a quick, affectionate kiss that lingered for a second before you pulled back.
"You're still a little awkward sometimes."
"Only because I still can't believe you chose me," he said without missing a beat, the words slipping out with an ease that made your breath catch in your lungs.
For a moment after his words faded, neither of you spoke.
Then you laughed, quiet and warm, the sound breaking the stillness, your forehead dipping just enough to brush against his.
"Your first kiss," you murmured, your voice light, though your fingers curled a little more firmly into his. "In a secret cave."
"Hey," he replied softly, the corner of his mouth lifting, his tone carrying that familiar mix of bashfulness and playfulness.
"This labyrinth can only be solved through love. What is a greater show of love than a kiss?" He said.
"Are you trying to talk your way out of this? Don't even bother. Still, a kiss? Really?" you question, your teasing tone not dying one bit.
"It worked, didn't it?"
You hummed in response, your gaze flickering briefly to his lips before returning to his eyes.
"Let's see if it still does."
You didn't give him time to respond.
You leaned in slowly, close enough for him to feel the warmth of your breath before your lips met his. The kiss is soft at first, his hand tightened around yours instinctively, the flame in his other palm flickering with the sudden shift in his focus.
You pressed closer, your hand slid to his shoulders, your fingers curled into the fabric as the kiss deepened, no longer tentative. Aang responded immediately, the hesitation falling away as his free hand found your waist, steady and warm, pulling you closer.
The flame in his palm gave one final, frantic flicker before dying, plunging the world into a sudden, suffocating velvet.
Darkness rushed in around you, the world narrowing to nothing but the feeling of him and the warmth of his hands. His grip tightened just slightly at your waist, while your arms wrapped more securely around his shoulders.
For a few seconds, there was nothing else. No light, no path, just the two of you. Then, slowly, something shifted.
A faint glow began to bloom along the walls, barely noticeable against the dark, then growing stronger, spreading in quiet pulses of light that traced the path ahead. The crystals embedded in the stone awakened one by one, their glow steady and clear, illuminating the cave in that same gentle brilliance Aang had once seen.
But neither of you pulled away.
Your kiss wasn't just a touch anymore; it was a collision. Every nuance magnified in the slight, jagged friction of his teeth catching your lower lip, the humid slip of his tongue, and the dizzying, salt-sweet taste of him.
You could hear the hitch in his throat, a swallowed groan that vibrated against your own lips, sending a frantic pulse of heat straight to your cunt.
His hands were no longer just resting on your waist; they were searching, his palms sliding over the curve of your waist with a feverish, grounding pressure that felt like the only solid thing left in a dissolving universe.
Driven by a sudden, hungry ache, you shifted.
As you hitched your legs up, the coarse fabric of your clothes rubbed provocatively against his thighs, a friction that made your breath catch in a sharp, staccato gasp.
You settled yourself fully atop him, the weight of your body forcing a low, guttural sound from deep in his chest. The sensation of straddling him on the solid, unyielding strength of his thighs, pinning you in place, sent a jolt of pure adrenaline through you.
Even as the cave began to wake, a pale, rhythmic glow bleeding from the crystals in the walls, the light felt distant and ghostly.
All that mattered was the searing point of contact where your bodies met, the way his fingers dug into your hips to hold you steady.
You leaned into him, your chest pressing hard against his, the thin layers of your clothing doing little to dampen the frantic thudding of your hearts beating in sync.
As you shifted against him, trying to find a better angle, the friction of his hips grinding against yours made your toes curl against the cold stone floor.
Aang's reaction was visceral. A low, wrecked sound broke from his throat halfway between a moan and a gasp as his hands abandoned your waist to slide upward.
You felt the heat of his palms through your clothes, his fingers splaying wide across your back, pulling you down harder, as if he were trying to merge your very bones with his.
He was no longer the boy who was hesitant or shy; the darkness and the sheer proximity of you had stripped him down to something primal.
His mouth left yours for a staggering second, only to trail a path of searing, damp heat down the line of your jaw to the sensitive hollow of your neck.
You arched into him, your arms circling his shoulders, pulling him closer even though there was no space left between you.
"Ah..." Aang's voice was low against your skin, a shuddering exhale as his mouth sucked on the sensitive curve of your neck. He was trembling, a frantic vibration that you could feel against your skin.
Your hands were wandering feverishly over the broad expanse of his back. The need to feel him truly feel him was becoming a physical ache, a hollow throb in your cunt that demanded to be filled.
"Please..." The word was barely a whisper, a soft, broken plea that escaped your lips as you tilted your head back, exposing your throat to him even more.
He responded by pulling back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and blown wide. He reached for the hem of your top, his fingers brushing against the skin of your stomach.
As he eased the fabric upward, the cool air of the cave hit your skin, only to be immediately replaced by the searing, overwhelming warmth of his palms.
A sharp, high moan escaped you as his hands slid higher, his thumbs tracing the undersides of your breasts, his touch both worshipful and desperate.
His movements were clumsy as he settled himself between your thighs, his hand sliding down, past the waistband of your clothes, seeking the heat he knew was waiting for him.
When his fingers finally made contact with your slick, aching cunt, your eyes drifted shut, and a long, trembling cry was lost in the quiet of the chamber.
The sensation was overwhelming, a sudden heat that made your entire world narrow down to the point where his fingers met your folds.
A broken moan escaped your lips as the tension in your body coiled in ribbons, pushing you toward a precipice you weren't ready to fall from just yet.
You felt the heavy, rhythmic slide of his fingers as he began to pump them in and out of you, a deep and unyielding motion that filled up your sopping hole.
Each time he slid deep, the wet, suctioning sound of his fingers against your slickness echoed. He worked with a fervent pace, stretching you and filling you until you felt like you might burst.
As he drove his fingers into you, his tongue took a stripe of your jaw, before planting his lips on your neck once more. He began to suck at the skin there, his lips warm and damp, his tongue swirling against your pulse point.
The heavy thrusting of his fingers below and the numbing pull of his mouth above was too much to bear.
You felt the friction of his fingers working you into a frenzy, the wetness of your own arousal coating his hand as he continued the pumping motion, driving you closer and closer to the edge.
But as the pleasure peaked, your eyes fluttered open, catching the light of the pulsing crystals. Your gaze drifted upward, away from the heat of his touch, and landed on the massive stone wall on the other side.
The breath died in your throat.
The lovers' mural.
The heat in your blood turned to a sudden, sharp chill.
"Hahh wait!" The word tore from your throat in a breathless gasp. You reached down, your hands catching his wrists to halt his movement.
"Wait, Aang! Wait!"
Aang froze, his chest heaving, his eyes dark and clouded with a heavy, unspent lust. He looked up at you, startled, his fingers still buried deep, still feeling the pulse of your desire.
"What? What is it?" he whispered.
You swallowed hard, your gaze darting back to the mural, then to the solemn, silent shadows of the tomb that suddenly felt much more crowded.
"Isn't this... isn't this a tomb?" you breathed, the realization hitting you like a physical weight.
"We... we shouldn't be doing this here."
The silence that followed was deafening. Aang's eyes followed your gaze to the wall, the realization dawning on his face as he took in the lovers carved in stone. The intense, primal heat in his expression flickered, replaced by a flush of his face.
The heat in his cheeks was visible even in the dim, pulsing light of the crystals. Aang looked from the mural to you, his eyes wide and filled with a mortified clarity.
The heavy, carnal tension that had been thick enough to choke on evaporated in an instant, replaced by an awkward stillness.
He pulled his hand back slowly, as if he were afraid that any sudden movement might wake the spirits of the ancients they were currently disrespecting.
The absence of his touch left you feeling sharply cold, the lingering ache in your core a pulsing reminder of how abruptly the moment had been severed.
"Oh," he breathed, the word barely a sound. He cleared his throat, his gaze dropping to the stone floor, unable to hold your eyes.
The Aang from moments ago was gone, replaced by the boy who was perpetually and endearingly bashful.
"Oh. Right. A tomb. A sacred... very sacred tomb."
He scrambled to sit back, his movements frantic as he tried to regain some semblance of dignity. He reached out to help you steady yourself, his hands trembling slightly as he smoothed the fabric of your clothes, his touch now tentative and careful.
He didn't look at you, instead focusing intently on the quite possibly most uninteresting patch of rock near his feet. The silence was no longer intimate; it was heavy with the weight of a thousand ancestors watching their every move.
"We should..." he started, his voice cracking slightly before he regained control.
He stood up, offering a hand to you, his expression a mix of sheepishness and a quiet longing that he was clearly trying to suppress.
"We should probably get out of here. Before we... You know. Offend anyone else." He gave a lopsided smile as he waited for you to take his hand.
"Yeah," you managed to say, your voice still a little breathless, your heart still thudding, though for a very different reason now. "Let's get out of here."
"Ah ! Aang !"
The sound of your own voice was wrecked and high, and tore through the quiet of the night, swallowed almost instantly by the heavy, rhythmic slaps of skin meeting skin. The cool night air of the campsite was a sharp contrast to the sweltering, feverish heat radiating between your bodies.
The unresolved ache from the tunnel had fermented into a desperate hunger that demanded to be satiated.
You were draped over him, your back pressed against the soft earth, your hips anchored firmly onto his lap as he knelt between your thighs.
His hands, large and warm, were clamped tight onto your hips, his fingers digging into your skin to anchor you as he drove into you with an unrelenting rhythm.
Every thrust was deep, making your vision blur and your head loll back in a daze of pure pleasure.
"Spirits...—" he groaned. His breath was hot and ragged against your face, his chest heaving with the effort of his own intensity.
He wasn't just fucking you; he was trying to lose himself in you, his movements driven by a desperate need to bridge every last millimeter of space between your souls.
A slick, wet heat that made every slide of him inside you feel thoroughly fucked. You could feel the muscles of his thighs tensing, the tremor in his arms as he held himself over you, and the unadulterated power of his thrusts that seemed to shake the very ground beneath you.
The heat radiating from him was no longer just the warmth of a man; it was a fever, a sweltering, unnatural aura that made the air inside the rock tent thick and heavy.
As he drove into you, the sound of his breath was a series of jagged, needy hitches.
"Ah-! spirits—!" he groaned as he slammed his hips against yours.
"Aang...! Hahh-!"
As his pace became more frantic, the friction was becoming filthy, and you both felt your senses grow stronger.
"Hahh-! yes... just like that..." he hissed through clenched teeth, his forehead pressing against yours, his skin slick and burning with that subconscious, simmering fire.
Then, the atmosphere shifted. The air didn't just feel hot; it felt charged, vibrating with a sudden, electric tension that made the hair on your arms stand up.
A soft, low hum began to pulse through the very ground beneath you. Then, the light changed.
A rhythmic, ethereal blue began to bleed out of the shadows, growing brighter with every one of his heavy, desperate thrusts. It wasn't coming from the moonlight through the cracks; it was coming from him.
The blue light flared along the lines of his tattoos, tracing the curves of his muscles. His eyes, wide and blown wide with lust, began to glow with that same celestial blue.
"Hah... ah!" You let out a broken, high-pitched cry as the sheer intensity of his energy hit you.
You reached up, wanting to ask if he was okay, but the words were lost as he let out a final, shattered groan, a sound so deep and raw it felt like it came from the earth itself.
"Ahhh!" he roared softly, his voice breaking as he reached his limit.
The surge of his release was a physical explosion, a sudden flooding of heat that seemed to anchor you to the very earth beneath you.
As he spilled himself deep inside, his entire body went rigid, the blue light of his tattoos flaring with such brilliance that the shadows of the rock tent vanished entirely.
The sensation triggered a landslide within you.
It started as a sharp, electric tightening in your abdomen, a coil of tension so intense it felt as though your muscles were being wrung dry. Your hips buckled instinctively, arching upward to meet his final, punishing thrusts.
A wail tore from your throat, the sound of pure, unadulterated surrender that echoed uselessly against the stone.
Everything became a blur of white-hot sensation. You felt the heavy pulsing of his cock inside you, but it was eclipsed by the frantic, inward contractions of your own cunt.
Your spent walls clamped around him in uncoordinated spasms, milking him with a ferocity that made your vision swim.
Your toes curled painfully, your fingers dug into the smooth, heated skin of his shoulders and the crown of his head, seeking purchase as the world dissolved.
The light of his eyes seemed to burn into your very soul, and as you felt the waves of your orgasm crash over you, each one more violent than the last, the air itself seemed to ripple.
You were caught in a feedback loop of pleasure and power, your breath coming in sobbing gasps that were lost against the heat of his neck.
The world slowly stopped spinning, as the last-ditch spasms of your muscles began to settle into a heavy, languid ache, the light in the tent began to dim.
The ethereal glow of his tattoos ebbed away, fading back into the natural blue colors of his tattoos.
You lay there for a moment, limbs feeling like lead, your skin still humming from the residual heat of his release. Slowly, your hands drifted upward, moving through the cooling air until your palms found the warm skin of his cheeks.
Your fingers traced the line of his jaw, feeling the slowing thud of his pulse beneath your touch.
A dizzy giggle bubbled up in your chest, breaking the heavy seriousness of the moment. You looked up at him, your eyes bright and a little misty, a playful smirk tugging at your lips as you watched him blink, trying to find his bearings.
"What was that?" you whispered, your voice a low, lulled by the sudden peace of the afterglow. You gave his cheeks a gentle, affectionate squeeze, your eyes dancing with amusement.
"What came over you? Are you okay?"
He let out a shaky exhale, a grin spreading across his face as he leaned his weight into your hands, looking thoroughly and beautifully wrecked.
He closed his eyes for a long moment, just breathing you in, his chest still heaving slightly against yours. When he finally opened them, the gaze he leveled at you was soft. He looked entirely undone, his skin flushed and damp, his expression a beautiful mess of exhaustion and bliss.
"I... don't know," he breathed. He caught one of your hands, pressing a lingering, tender kiss to your palm before pulling you closer, tucking his head into the crook of your neck.
"Everything just... felt so bright. But..."
His body settled heavy and warm against yours as he began to drift into the peaceful lethargy.
"That," he whispered, his voice trailing off into a sleepy, satisfied hum, "was incredible."
As the last of the embers from the campfire outside flickered in the distance, the two of you drifted into the shared warmth of the dark.
a/n: i have a aang x reader x zuko fic in mind! i'll probably write it soon after i watch the movie.