── .✮

robert franklin knew he shouldn’t have picked you up after you shift at the furniture store, especially because kat had basically forbade him from hanging out with you but that was before.

before he called for a break he felt they so desperately needed.

“bobby?” he heard your sweet voice and felt you run a hand through his hair which brought him back from his thoughts. “que te pasa? did something happen with kat? she asked to leave early today.” (what’s wrong?)

he had not been able to think straight for the last two days — of course he couldn’t, not when you had told them you were going to move to new york for a possible acting job in a few months, not when you can possibly forget all about him.

he should have never listened to kat who had begged and begged him to help you film that stupid auditioning tape.

he smiled and shook his head, all while nervously tapping his finger onto the counter. “i actually wanted to talk to you about th-“

clark had placed a big box of lamps onto the counter so it blocked bobby’s view of you, “you think you can put these downstairs before you go?”

“pues ya me quiero ir, pero ya que.” you sighed and grabbed two of the lamps. (well i wanted to leave but since you asked.)

he had looked at bobby with a look because he knew of the situation bobby, kat and you were in — the three of you constantly going to him for his secrecy and some advice, to which the three of you never seemed to listen to anyways.

“if you love kat, you will listen to her and stop seeing that girl.” he recalled giving bobby the advice to leave you alone after hearing an argument between kat and him.

another time he could think of was when you had asked if they seemed happy together. “well they were until you came along.” and when he saw you practically frown he cleared his throat. “no offense, it’s just they’ve been arguing about you.”

you didn’t like being the reason of them having problems so when you started thinking about auditioning for a show in new york, clark encouraged it. “go for it, there’s nothing grand about this town anyways.”

clark didn’t really want to see you go, he had actually grown to like you very much — you were his best saleswoman.

way better than him anyways.

he had grown to like you but he knew you at some point would move onto something new, you had constantly told them you were never in a place for too long — you didn’t have family, not much of a friend person and you lived in an apartment close to the store so he naturally fell into a fatherly figure role for you.

then he recalled back to when kat was going on about why he just had to hire you. “because you told me you needed another girl around here, i could barely afford to pay you or bobby for helping me with my commercials but i did you a favor.”

and when he accidentally let your plans slip to kat she was overjoyed. “bobby can help her and she can finally leave!” she did a little jump and high fived him. “good work clark!”

“that’s not what i was try-“ she ran off before he could finish so he groaned and dropped himself onto a chair. “i’m getting too old for this shit.”

── .✮

kathrine taylor had been suspicious of bobby possibly cheating on her just a few months after you arrived into town.

“she’s just a friend kat, our friend.” he had placed a quick kiss on her forehead. “you have nothing to worry about.”

but she saw the way his eyes would linger on you when he thought she wasn’t looking, the lingering touches or the random visits he would do to the furniture store.

“brought you guys some lunch!” he would say kissing her on the cheek and going straight for you afterwards. “and for you i brought you a champurrada with a pan dulce!” (sweet bread)

“it’s champurrado…” you laughed as you corrected him and took the drink from him. “you didn’t have to, the shop is almost all the way across town bobby.”

while you guys were chatting, kat sighed looking down at her strawberry smoothie.

yeah he won’t be allowed around you anymore after today.

so finally when you announced that you were wanted for a live audition in new york, kat was over the moon — whereas bobby knew you would do great over there and they would definitely want you but he couldn’t seem to cheer up, he knew you’d forget all about him.

“well what can you do, she will be missed.” kat sighed and quickly changed the subject. “now that you’re almost finished with your film class, maybe we can go to th-“

“we need to breakup, i mean more of a break.”

kat knew it had everything to do with you even though he didn’t want to admit it but she trusted you to not go behind her back.

then there was bobby who was hugging a crying kat, already planning how he can get through to you and become more than friends.

── .✮

for the past month, bobby couldn’t get you out of his head and found himself seeking you out more, you had slowly been letting him after finding out kat and him were officially over.

you had been organizing the furniture when bobby took a seat on a recliner and pulled you onto his lap. “so where’s clark?”

he was glad when you finally let him touch you more, it only took an accidental slip up of him telling you that he had liked you — he was able to hold your hand as you guys walked. slide down his hand onto the small of your back whenever the two of you were standing next to each other. pulling you into his lap even if there were millions of other chairs around.

you shrugged as his thumb hooked itself to the waistband of your shorts. “trying to fix his marriage supposedly, told me to watch over the store and close up.”

weeks later when clark finally returned again, he was pacing around putting things in a bag like tools and extra clothes.

he tried to quickly explain he was leaving for a few weeks but he didn’t want to say where. “look i’ll be back and when i’m back…” clark went on as grabbed papers and a pen, almost out of breath. “i need you, bobby and kat to have made up with whatever the hell you guys have got going on because i’ll be needing you three for some research.”

── .✮

during the second month, bobby was now getting the cold shoulder from you — he stood behind you as you talked to a customer who was totally hitting on you, he tried wrapping his arm around you but you swatted his hand away.

“dejame and please just leave the store, i got it on my own.” you quietly mumbled out and moved away from him. (leave me alone)

he had invited you over to his house for dinner about two weeks ago and it was going well, way too well.

“f-fuuck. shit, baby you feel so good right now…” he moaned as he felt your gummy walls tighten around his cock each time he’d slam back into you and just before he almost finished, there was a hard knock on the door.

the both of you chose to ignore it but then another knock but harder.

he stopped his movements, leaving you to groan and tried to keep him from stopping.

“bobby! open up, i want my things back!”

he’s been telling kat for weeks now to come get her stuff and of course she chooses now to get it.

you sat up and wrapped the sheets around you. “que cosas quiere?” (what things does she want?)

his spanish was not great so he didn’t know what you had said but he noticed the hint of anger in your voice. “what?”

just before you could answer there was another knock. “for fuck-sake kat! hold on!”

he of course had her things already packed in a box, it wasn’t like he had her stuff around but you didn’t see it that way.

you had packed your overnight bag back up and as much as he pleaded with you to stay the night, you were ready to go.

“c’mon believe me baby, i only want you…”

you shook your head no. “whatever this was it’s over, i’ll be leaving to new york whenever we finish doing whatever it is that clark wants us to do when he returns.”

he quickly ran to the door and got on his knees in front of you. “please don’t say that, i lo-“

“bobby enough! you still have your ex-girlfriend’s things here, you can’t even ask me properly to be your girlfriend…”

which led you to now.

it was closing time and you were in the office organizing papers when you saw bobby had came back with a bouquet of flowers, so once you finished you grabbed your bag and began heading to the door — he was still waiting outside, when suddenly he started swatting the flowers around and his other free hand as well.

you laughed once you saw a small moth flying around him and the petals were beginning to fall off the flowers.

when he was done, you finally walked out and began locking the door to the furniture store. “is the coast clear?” you asked with a giggle.

“i’m glad you think this is funny, i had a whole apology speech ready to go when this stupid moth began attacking me.” he groaned looking down at the now ruined bouquet. “even wanted to ask you out…”

he was such an idiot.

you smiled as you helped him remove some petals off his hair. “pobrecito.” (poor thing.)

he frowned and extended his arms out to you. “yeah pobrecito me.”

you rolled your eyes and gave in, hugging him a little too tightly but he didn’t seem to care.

── .✮

it wasn’t long before you guys were in the backseat of your car, the moment you sank down onto him, you were rolling your hips and he threw his head back onto the headrest.

“holy fuck, you’re so...fucking good.” he found it hard to come up with the right words as you picked up the pace, rolling your hips and doing an occasional circle. “please s-slow down, im going to cum and i haven’t even started with you y-yet.”

you moaned softly as you dug your nails into his shoulders. “you’re so big bobby..”

“hold on, s-slow down.” and just before you could pickup the pace again he brought down one of his hands to your thigh, stopping you from moving and another to your face to force you to look at him. “te amo..” (i love you)

he saw the way your pupils were blown out and you let out a broken whine. “yo tambien te amo.” (i love you too)

he sloppily jerked himself up into you a few times before flipping you onto your back and making sure he was now the one to ruin you.

by the time you were done, it was almost pitch black in the parking lot but the both of you noticed a small light in the furniture store.

“hm. you forgot to turn off a light.” bobby pointed out before drinking out of his water bottle and passing it to you.

“huh. thought i turned them all off, that’ll be tomorrow’s problem.”

✮

finally when the both of you were tucked into bed and his arm was draped around you, you were almost asleep but could still hear him softly talking.

“after doing this research thing with clark, i’ll come with you to new york and help you settle down, maybe i can even stay there with you for awhile…”

you nodded. “maybe, i’ll skip out on the recall and stay here with you.”

“not going to let you miss that audition baby.” he hugged you tighter and kissed the side of your head. “if anything maybe i’ll pickup another film class over there so i can be with you…”

he went on about different plans you guys could work out in new york and when he knew you were sleeping, he kissed the side of your head once again and listed his last plan. “i want to love you till the end of my life.”

little did he know was that in a few days that was the only plan he would actually be able to complete…

©𝟒𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞. all rights reserved. please do not; duplicate, reupload or claim my work as your own.

get you @magicalmatcha Summary: Toph wasn't religious but everyday she woke up grateful that some higher power decided to atone for her blindness by making her the best earth bender. And giving her the best girlfriend. Not that she'd say it out loud. Warnings: None Special Tag: None

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BEYOND SIGHT! @tophluvr (X) Summary: None Warnings: None Special Tag: ft zuko

exercise!! @mellowzoe (X) Summary: compared to your hunk of a really pretty girlfriend—you really were pretty out of shape. one lap around her metalbending academy gets you almost passing out. it's something that you genuinely wanted to work on. and so, toph beifong’s solution? Warnings: None Special Tag: None

Arranged marriages weren’t just what the name implied, arranged. They were strategies used to win other houses over. One could say they were some sort of currency, one the great lords and houses often used. They’d throw around names and children. Deals were made, marriages were set. And the children in question were left in despair. 

Your father did not wish such things upon his lovely daughter. And so he tried his absolute best to postpone this horrendous arrangement for you.

He’d lasted five summers. 

Five long summers before your fifth nameday arrived. Before house Targaryen had come to visit and offer congratulations.

House Targaryen had suffered a setback in alliances and forces after a rather dramatic display of treachery and treason by the Greens– who had attempted to usurp Rhaenyra’s throne. And while most of the lords agreed with Team Black and had sworn themselves to Rhaenyra, other lords hadn’t. Which left the royal family with less allies than preferred. 

It wasn’t until young prince Jacaerys had shyly shuffled your way to hand you a swan’s feather with a dark red ribbon bound to a small pink carnation –one which he definitely plucked from the outer gardens– that your father and his mother, Queen Rhaenyra had shared a knowing glance. 

Thus marrying the heirs to two great kingdoms seemed like a splendid idea. 

It was not. 

KINGS LANDING, fourteen summers ago

You and Jacaerys were informed of your betrothal during your first visit to Kings Landing, the two of you merely six summers old. It was safe to say that both you and the prince were quite unhappy with this arrangement. 

Rhaenyra, who carried a sleeping Lucerys on her hip, found it hilarious to see the both of you try your hardest not to turn your– albeit forced– smiles into a grimace. 

You curtsied, bowing your head politely before speaking. ‘’Good morrow Prince Jacaerys, I am very pleased to meet you. I look forward to spending this summer together.’’

The young prince raised his brow before bowing stiffly and kissing your hand. Then he responded. ‘’Good morrow Princess, I welcome you to the Red Keep.’’

The two of you shared an intense moment of eye contact before swiftly turning away from one another with upturned noses and crossed arms. 

Rhaenyra forced herself not to laugh as she softly slapped Jacaerys on the back and murmured a quick ‘’be polite Jace.’’

That summer was spent in an unheard of and un-ladylike manner. Oh, if the maesters from your lessons had seen you… you were certain you were to be scolded once you’d arrived home. 

Jacaerys was unbearable to be around. He believed you couldn’t fight as he did because you were a girl. So you decided to fight him, while using only your fists. 

You’d won.

He thought you were boring because you’d asked him to play a fierce knight while you played the dragon princess. He angrily told you only lame girls played pretend, and that you could never be a dragon princess– he was heir to the house of the dragon after all. 

He had later begged the ladies-in-waiting and maesters not to tell you that he made them play pretend with him too. 

KINGS LANDING, ten summers ago

‘’Oh princess! Please come down from there!’’ exclaimed your lady-in-waiting. 

‘’I cannot’’ you growled. 

You were stuck in a tree. The Velaryon prince–your self proclaimed sworn enemy, had dared you to climb it.

It was supposed to be a race. A duel to find out which one of you was faster, more agile. But the nasty prince had massively screwed you over. 

After you’d unceremoniously ripped off the outer layers of your ballgown and dumped them on a soddy patch of grass, you’d readied yourself for the battle of a lifetime. At least, to the two of you it was– or so you had thought. 

In truth, Jacaerys faked the start, making you believe he'd simply tripped. 

Jacaerys knew very well not to climb the massive tree located just beside the palace, his mother had warned him many, many times. The tree was old, and the twigs could only handle so much weight.

The once strong twigs held on greatly when you used them as support on the way up, but when you’d tried climbing back down after finding out about the betrayal of the prince, they’d failed you. 

This left you stuck in the highest top of the tree, with no way back down. 

When you heard Jacaerys’ boisterous laugh, you nearly jumped down from the top of the tree in the hopes to crush him. When you had peered down to look at him, you’d found that he had brought along his younger brother Lucerys to laugh at you.  

Little Lucerys–bless his heart, called out to you in a concerned manner. Then, he tilted his head up towards his brother.  

‘’Jace, are you certain she will be alright?’’ 

Luke did not have to wait long for an answer. Because even though his big brother never properly answered his question, your face– eyes wide, brows furrowed and cheeks as red as tomatoes, spoke bookworks. You were pissed, and would do anything to take revenge. 

It was that day that Prince Lucerys Velaryon, heir to Driftmark and future Lord of the Tides decided that you were one of the bravest people to roam this earth, much to Jace’s dismay. 

In the end, ser Harwin Strong was the one who saved you from your newly acquainted nemesis, the ever so massive, Lord Tree of the Gardens of the Red Keep. 

Then, when no one paid attention to them he gave the young prince a good clout in the ear, for this was not the way proper knights or princes treated young ladies. 

The first night of Autumn, merely a day after you and your father had left Westerosi soil, the palace awoke from screams coming from Prince Jacaerys’ bedroom. Various bugs and insects had found their way into his bed, along with a note decorated with sloppy handwriting. 

‘’Prince Jacaerys,

This summer, I have made many friends here in Kings Landing. They have long wished to meet my betrothed and so I have taken the honor of bringing my friends to you, my dear prince. 

Have you met Ser Caterpillar of the Leaves yet? He was so very eager to meet you. But you see, he has a very soft voice, so he wished to be somewhere you’d hear him well, the same applies to Lord Samuel Snail of the Earth Kingdom, he spoke fondly of–’’

Jacaerys stopped reading after that, for he was too busy dragging all of the pillowcases and blankets in his room to the Dragonpit, all to be burned by Vermax. 

Luke could be found walking closely behind, giggling quietly to himself. 

NAEDIA, five summers ago

‘’My sweet girl, please. Let us leave now. We cannot keep the prince waiting any longer!’’ cried your father. 

He’d been begging you since sunrise to leave your room. You’d refused. You were ten and fifteen now, an awkward age for both boys and girls. 

Your face no longer possessed the baby soft skin it once had, but was partially covered in small, angry red pimples. Your body had grown taller, but not yet quite big enough to fit properly into the gowns that had been prepared long before this day.  

Your hair, once so shiny and ready to comply, was sticking up in every direction. You refused to show yourself to Queen Rhaenyra while looking this disheveled, or Gods forbid– to Jacaerys! Not because you valued his opinion, absolutely not! 

You knew that if the young prince was to see you in this state he’d pick on every insecurity you have ever known, and then some. 

When the boat arrived at the shores of the Crownlands once again, you took a deep breath as a poor attempt to settle your nerves. 

Your father had stepped off the boat with an elegance only kings carry while you hid behind the mast. You could see Jacaerys and his uncle Aegon inspect the boat– looking for you. 

Jace and Luke were supposed to come and accompany both you and your father to the Red Keep, but the younger boy had fallen ill– and so Aegon, son to the traitor queen consort had come along in his stead. 

You’d desperately wished Helaena had come instead. Helaena was always kind to you. She spoke softly and in riddles, you liked her. You’ve spent many a night in her chambers, begging her to give you fun riddles to unravel– unaware of their true meanings. 

The greens were disliked by many but surprisingly so, many agreed that the blame lay with the former hand of the king, Otto Hightower—followed by his daughter Alicent. The children were much too young to have been responsible, they had received the chance to swear themselves to Rhaenyra– or to follow their grandsire and queen mother to exile. 

Jacaerys’ hands were neatly folded behind his back, but his expression was devious. You saw Jacaerys’ shoulders slump slightly after being unable to lay his eyes upon you. Rats! Was he that eager to take you down? You were actively thinking about climbing the mast of the ship to escape when your father called for you. Then, after a heated internal debate on whether to jump off the boat or to heed your fathers’ call, you’d decided on the latter.

The birds crowed, the waves of the sea lapped  at the shore and the merchants street was bustling. You could smell the salt in the air, the fresh fish from the market and-

Splat.

Tomatoes. The disgusting mix of harbour air mixed with the sourness of the nearly rotten tomatoes engulfed your senses. Your brain vaguely aware of the presence of the red, wet and slimy insides of the tomato on your shoulderblade. It’s juices slowly soaking into the soft fabric of your gown. But what you were truly focused on is the Velaryon meathead staring straight at you. 

His arms, no longer hidden behind his back, hung idly. He sported a shit-eating grin, matching with Aegon–though Aegon's resembled a grimace more than a grin. Jacaerys tilts his head, pondering your next move. 

You inspected him. And wondered how such a thing was possible. For him to be able to look so effortlessly beautiful. His hair– which looked soft and styled– longer compared to the last time you’ve seen him. His hair, once pin straight, had started to develop the slightest curl around the edges. Tis not by much, but it was noticeable, or it was to you, at least. 

It was entirely unfair. While you have been out worrying about the state of your skin, your hair, your body, he was standing there handsome as ever– effortlessly so. His eyes narrowed in suspicion, dark brown with the slightest hint of a beautiful purple, undeniable proof of his Valyrian heritage. 

A true prince of the realm. 

And you were going to kill him. You’d feed him to Vermax himself if needed. His status did not matter, you would get your revenge is what you’d sworn back then. No matter the cost.

NAEDIA, present day

A sharp inhale interrupted the cacophony of noise in the room. Your ladies-in-waiting had taken up the duty of making you look presentable for your travels to Kings Landing. This included a peculiar braided hairstyle, which apparently meant having your hair sharply tugged.

You’re twenty summers old now. Red and patchy skin healed, hair grown long once again, and your body finally able to fill out all your ballgowns properly. But most of all, you have matured, mentally.

If the same can be told of your betrothed you cannot say. 

He has always run a bit behind when it comes to mental development, if you may say so yourself. Another tug at your scalp makes you groan in annoyance. ‘’Are we ready yet?’’ you complain.

‘’Almost, my Princess. Apologies if it is uncomfortable this way, this hairdo looks magnificent on you.’’ Selina, your lady-in-waiting compliments. 

You smile softly at her through the mirror. The woman has been with you since your birth, she has seen you through ups and downs. Seen you excel in studies, and has seen you cry over countless silly matters–many of which involved your betrothed, much to your dismay and her amusement. 

But most importantly, she has seen you grow up. Both you and Jacaerys. And though she knows the two of you will never admit otherwise, she believes you two to be a fine match. 

Far away, across the dark waters of the Narrow Sea, Jacaerys is going through an awfully similar fate. 

‘’Ow!’’ he exclaims. ‘’Must you use this many pins?’’

‘’Yes my prince’’, retaliates his lord-in-waiting before explaining further, ‘’In order to keep your cape in place, you must make use of pins like these. It is of utmost importance that you do so.’’

The man receives an eye-roll as thanks. 

The doors open and the knight guarding his chambers announces the presence of the person on the other side.

‘’My Prince, the Queen and your brother Prince Lucerys.’’ 

Rhaenyra smiles with pride the moment she lays her eyes upon her oldest son. He gently smiles back, dark purple irises softening slightly as he opens his arms for a hug. His mother smells like dragon, she’s been spending a lot of time with her beloved mount in her free time. 

He remembers how his mother loathed the smell during her pregnancy. She used to make him change from his riding clothes into his sleepwear before entering her chambers– believing it to be the only clothes not tainted by the outside. 

But now the dragon queen stood tall, reeking of dragon. The smell overwhelming for many, but a sign of comfort to those who belong to the House of the Dragon. 

The sweet moment was interrupted by bickering coming from the halls. High voices grow louder every step. The three turned towards the door, curious to see who it was that dared disturb them. 

The footsteps sped up and in came Princess Helaena, Aegon and Aemond, together with little Viserys and Aegon– the two had been favouring their white haired aunt and uncles as of late. 

‘’Jacaerys!’’ Aegon beamed. ‘’Don’t you look all Princely today. I am certain your betrothed will be able to look at you without rage for once!.’’

Smack!

Aemond, in a poor attempt at correcting his older brother’s behaviour, had smacked him on the back. All the while stifling his own laughter at Jacaerys' mistreatment– along with the others still present in the room. 

–

You took a deep breath when your ladies-in-waiting practically hauled you from the ship towards the carriage. 

You were certain bruises were to bloom where their hands had grabbed you– but nothing would compare to the sting you’d feel when you were to meet Jacaerys and he’d insult you once more, you were certain of it. 

You had not yet managed to straighten your gown when a small figure bounded straight at you– an even smaller one wobbling behind it. Stumbling upon impact you giggled at the young boys. 

Over the past few years, little Viserys and Aegon had come to see you as an older sister, an extension of Jacaerys if you will. The little boys only ever saw you when you were taking a walk around the premises with your betrothed–arranged by your parents of course–but the young boys knew no better. After all, why would you keep each other company so often if you disliked one another? To them the two of you were extensions of one another. When one was found, the other would follow close by.

Lucerys had laughed at the sentiments of the boys, until Jacaerys reminded him the same fate would befall him soon. Though the young boy reassured his brother that wouldn’t be the case– as he swore that he would never insult and tease his future wife to the point she’d refuse to look him in the eyes. Jacaerys’ eyes dimmed slightly after hearing those words.

‘’I missed you!’’ exclaimed Viserys. Then he said your name with so much adoration you nearly melted on the spot. 

‘’Welcome back sweet girl’’ said Rhaenyra as she approached you happily. Behind her trailed her two oldest sons, one being visibly more excited regarding your arrival than the other. 

After a few horrendous seconds Lucerys opened his mouth, but before any sound was able to escape his throat Jacaerys spoke first. 

‘’We welcome you back, Princess.’’ and for just a moment, you thought his voice did not contain the disdain it had held for years, alas, you did not allow yourself to believe such a thing was possible. 

Rhaenyra urged the family inside, but before you and Jacaerys were able to take a step forward you were stopped by none other than your own parents. 

It was then that you and your beloved prince shared a frightened glance at one another. A feeling of dread creeping up both of your spines. It seemed that for once, the infamous troublemakers of the Red Keep were feeling something unanimously – even if only for a moment. 

‘’The flowers are beautiful this season, won’t you give your betrothed a tour of the gardens?’’ the queen proposed. You anxiously gazed towards your father, who seemed to be using up all his energy in avoiding your eyes and nodding along with the queen's words. 

‘’Mother! We have several fortnights to enjoy the beauty of nature surrounding us, must we do this now?’’ Jacaerys lamented. You hastily nodded along with the prince, begging the Gods old and new to spare the two of you for just a few moments more. 

But upon seeing the stern looks on your parents’ faces you doubt the Gods were listening. 

Rhaenyra seemed undeterred in her decision to play the part of ultimate matchmaker between you and Jacaerys– for the good of the realm of course, no other reason is what she’d tell herself and anyone who dared ask. 

The two of you understood now. If you did not spend time together until at least supper, you would simply not be allowed to enter the castle walls. 

Begrudgingly, Jacaerys turned towards you to extend his hand to you. ‘’If it pleases you My Lady, we shall head towards the gardens. The roses look especially beautiful this time of year.’’ a charming gesture, had he not been speaking through gritted teeth. 

To you it was abundantly clear that Jacaerys had not yet learned how to tolerate you. His attitude still very much resembling his younger self.

In truth, Jacaerys had a revelation several moons ago. After you had unceremoniously declared that you’d rather rest your lips upon a snail than to ever let them rest upon his? Odd as it might be, the dragon prince had found it oddly endearing. 

In fact, the prince had long passed the toleration part. He had long moved on towards more… mature feelings. But he’d rather face dragon fire a thousand times than ever admit such atrocities out loud. 

‘’Very well,’’ you reply while taking your hand out of his. His hands have grown calloused, you notice. The texture strange but not unwelcome against yours. 

 ‘’Though I must admit I prefer the sight of carnations.’’ you grumble slightly. You hastily prepare your gown for the walk to the gardens. It is not far, but your legs have not yet gotten used to walking such a distance in your new shoes, adorned by a higher heel and decorations that do nothing other than weaken your ankles. 

The Velaryon boy takes notice of your uneasiness and holds out his arm for you to hold. ‘’If it pleases you My Lady. You may rest your weight onto me.’’ He makes a desperate attempt at meeting your gaze, purple eyes gone soft and brows slightly furrowed– whether it is in concern or impatience, you dare not speculate. 

Either way, he is met with a stern glare and a sneer from you ‘’I am aware you might believe otherwise, but I am perfectly capable of walking, My Prince.’’ 

His shoulders drop ever so slightly. You pretend you do not notice. 

The walk towards the garden is silent. You know not what you prefer. Though you dislike bickering with him, this eerie silence feels unbearable. 

In a desperate attempt you turn back to face him. Though unfortunate as it seems, both you and Jacaerys had similar ideas. 

‘’How is Vermax faring these days–’’ ‘’Have you been well?--’’

Another devastating moment of silence, though it was broken much quicker than the last. The moment you and the prince had made eye-contact the two of you had burst into giggles. 

Unexpectedly, the afternoon passed rather quickly. And so did the many afternoons which would pass afterwards. You and Jacaerys had found common ground, irritation towards your parents, towards your future duties as heirs and so forth. 

Though the conversations had turned towards issues known to you both, there was one topic your hearts seemed content to dance around. Your betrothal was widely known as hated by all parties involved, and yet the past fortnights had nearly made it seem as if those summers had been but vague stories, exaggerated by the smallfolk. 

Jacaerys had felt this sentiment very strongly. So much so, that upon the second to last day of your stay in the Red Keep, he eventually dared broach the topic. Your families had joined one another in the courtyard, deeming the outside air perfect for one last day together. 

‘’We shall make a fine king and queen when the time is upon us.’’ Jacaerys spoke softly. 

You tilt your head slightly at him. Desperately scanning his eyes for any lies that may be told. ‘’Do you truly believe that, My Prince?’’ a whisper so soft Jacaerys would not have heard it, had he stood just a bit further away from you. 

‘’But of course I do! You shall make the most beautiful queen Westeros has ever seen.’’ he exclaims. 

Your heart skips a beat. Not lightly or fluttering, as many describe it should feel. It is rather heavy, an almost sinking feeling. Bile rises up in your throat. 

‘’What else?’’ you ask him. He cocks his head questioningly. ‘’What do you mean, My Lady?’’

You can swear on the Gods old and new you are able to hear the exact moment your heart stops beating. Will that truly be your fate? After everything, you’ll end up being no more than a king's puppet. To have to sit idly, wearing a crown people do not believe you have earned– to have highborn Lords and Ladies look at you like you do not exist beside your duties to ensure the king’s heirs.    

You muster up the courage to speak once more. ‘’Is beauty all that matters to you, My Prince?’’

You look into the eyes you’d been secretly seeking comfort from. The dark purple swirling through his brown pupils. Eyes of which you have longed to look at you as softly as they do towards his family. Only now you find no softness. His brows are furrowed, in confusion or anger you dare not speculate. 

It is only a moment before Jacaerys opens his mouth once more, and yet it feels like an eternity. 

‘’What else is there?’’ 

A gasp emits from the side of the courtyard. It is Baela who now stares at Jacaerys with wide eyes, not willing to believe the atrocity that has just left the young prince’s mouth. 

You softly shake your head at your betrothed and step back in disbelief. Unable or unwilling to believe the boy you grew up with possessed such a shallow heart and mind.  

Your father and Rhaenyra share a disappointed glance. All that planning had seemingly been for nothing. 

The marriage would still be arranged of course. Your parents had only hoped it would end in one filled with love rather than one solely based on duties. 

‘’What would you have wanted him to say then, my sweet girl.’’ questioned your father. The two of you were now on your way to your beloved kingdom once again, the carriage towards the harbor rocky as ever. 

You sigh deeply before answering. ‘’I do not wish to be stuck in a marriage with a man who does not see past my appearance, father. I long for someone who understands me. Who understands my wants, needs, hopes and dreams. Why is it I who must be trapped in a kingdom of which I do not know nearly as well as my own, while my husband dares not breathe in my direction even though I am squeezing out his heirs!’’ 

Your father quiets down at this and frowns. This was what he had been avoiding, he had sworn to himself to not let such a horrendous fate befall his beloved daughter, and yet it had seemed he had failed after all. 

You feel the blood rushing to your head, a faint pounding slowly making its way from the back of your skull towards the crown of your head. The carriage seems rockier somehow– you know not if it is caused by the horrendous headache taking over your body or if the horsemen have somehow chosen a worse path to ride through. 

‘’What else is there? Truly Jace could you be more daft!’’ Baela exclaims. The white haired girl has been staring at the prince with nothing more than thinly veiled disgust ever since you’d left the courtyard.

‘’I meant no harm! The words just came out poorly’’ came Jacaerys’ poor defense. The young prince had been sulking the moment he felt your hands slip out of his. 

‘’You should write a book’’ interrupted Aemond, located on the end of the couch he shared with Baela. ‘’How to offend women in five syllables or less.’’ 

Lucerys, who’d been in the middle of an intense game of chess with Jacaerys, snorted loudly. As much as the young prince quarreled with his uncle, he couldn’t help but agree. His brother had been foolish.

He always was, when it came to you. 

‘’I did not mean for it to come out that way!’’ Jacaerys yelled. ‘’Of course I see her as more than her title. She’s so… ugh, and she always does this thing that, you know?  So I just.. Don’t you see?’’

Aemond merely scoffed and stood up ‘’What in the hells are you talking about Jace?’’

 I never meant for her to think I do not see her beyond our duties.’’ he’d whispered the last part of the sentence, only now realising he’d messed up indefinitely. 

His family shared concerned glances with one another. Of course they knew the boy cared more for you than he’d ever admit out loud, but to see him openly express such things was new. Before anyone could open their mouths in a desperate attempt at comforting their kin, the doors slammed open. 

In the doorway stood not a knight wearing the familiar white cloak, but a knight  wearing a blue one. Blue, like the official banners of your house. On his chest rested a small emblem, the one declaring him your knight. The one sworn to you– sworn to protect you. A knight who fought for the very same banners who were supposed to be on their way back home. 

Baela and Lucerys stood up in concern. If your sworn knight was here, and not with you, something must have gone wrong– horribly wrong. 

The look on the knight's face was empty. A certain mix of rage and grief swirled around in his eyes. He stood for a moment before declaring something. Something that nearly caused the Crown Prince’s heart to stop beating entirely. 

‘’The Royal carriage was attacked. The king has passed– his injuries were much too grave.’’

Jacaerys found his throat dry, too dry to speak. And yet he mustered up the energy– the courage to do so.

‘’And what of the princess?‘’ 

‘’No body was found, My Prince. We suspect she’s been taken.’’

I am so, so sorry for the delay omg. I wish I had a better excuse, but school is just kicking my ass bro. hopefully this'll make up for it somehow? in preparation for s3, a sort of happy jace fic.

Hell, you had even gained a thing for Sokka for a while, and not once had you ever thought of Aang as a romantic interest, despite his many 'advances'.

You saw it then, in the way he would seek you out, always hanging around you, asking for your advice on waterbending, even though Katara was right there, the one person who actually knew combat waterbending, unlike you, who could only heal.

So you did your best to push him toward Katara, trying to free yourself from the burden of his feelings.

It had worked.

And how you regretted it.

Because the man who stood before you now, grinning ear to ear at the sight of your arrival, was someone you no longer recognized.

After the war had ended, you returned home to the Northern Water Tribe, where you were praised for your contributions in the war.

Which is why you had taken to teaching the younger female generations the beauty of water, passing down your learnings from Katara and Aang.

The elders had not been too pleased at your notion, but they didn't stop you either, reminding themselves of what Katara had changed within the misogynistic hierarchy of the tribe.

You spent those years teaching, learning, advising, not having much contact with your friends other than the letters you all exchanged.

Katara and Sokka would visit now and then, but the Southern Water Tribe girl stopped once her free time was redirected to developing Republic City. Sokka continued to visit with Suki, mostly to pay respect to a certain moon spirit.

You weren't in touch with Zuko, never having gotten too close with him. And Aang would send you letters more often than you had expected. But even those reduced over the years, only showing up on birthdays.

So now, nine years later, you finally decided to give a visit when you received an invitation from Aang, planning a reunion on the occasion that Republic City was an year old and flourishing.

You had agreed, because you wished to see your only actual friend you had made on your journey.

Toph.

The blind bandit had formed an unusual bond with you, mostly built around constant jokes and taunts towards the rest of the group.

So when you saw Toph upon arriving, you hadn't expected Aang to be standing there beside her with the others, towering over everyone else in his newly acquired form.

You couldn't even think straight as Aang and Katara led everyone to the inn all of you could stay in during your time there. After settling your stuff into your rooms, Aang had taken to showing all of you around.

You heard him for everything he had to say, paying more attention to him than you ever had. Your eyes hadn't left him once, watching him light up every time he spoke, waving his hands around animatedly towards all directions.

Fuck. His hands.

Asking what you would do with them was a stupid question, because what wouldn't you do?

You'd have them pressed to your tits all the time. Those warm hands that have mastered every element to the point of second nature, swirling wind, bending the earth, doing everything imaginable with ease.

How trained he would be with those hands. Maybe he would put his learnings to good use on your pussy, mimicking the elegant motion of his fingers over your clit as he kept you stuffed to the hilt, hopefully using his other hand to clamp your mouth shut.

Maybe he'd even let you take his fingers in your mouth, sucking and drooling around them to divert your attention from the fullness of his cock.

Your thoughts didn't let up even as night fell, by which you had completely soaked through the fabric of your underwear. The group had split up to retire for the night, holding a proper get together party at Katara's home the next evening.

The time before the party had been given to everyone for sight seeing, but you could barely make it out of bed, the previous night spent restless as a certain airbender plagued your mind, making your reach for your pussy for most of it.

What's worse is that you had to keep your moans to the lowest, too scared that Toph might sense you out from wherever her room was in the inn.

You never truly understood the extent of her power, you didn't even know if something like this would even be possible for Toph to sense, but you sure as hell didn't want to take any chances.

Before the get together, you had sat in front of the mirror to gather your thoughts. You had chosen to wear a henley much like what Toph had worn the day before, while beneath it you had put on a rather bold choice.

You had first seen Suki wear a miniskirt during her visit with Sokka at the Northern Water Tribe. Her choice of clothing was something you had questioned, trying to understand why she would wear swimwear while visiting such a cold place.

She had only sighed, explaining to you the growing trends of fashion in the newly developing city.

On her next visit, she had brought you your own.

You never wore it before, given the weather, but you had packed it, figuring the warmer weather of the city would make the skirt more bearable.

Arriving at Katara's home was hell, because not only had Aang opened the door on your arrival, he was bare from the waist up as he did so.

The blood had rushed straight to your cunt, trying not to blatantly look at his abdomen, or the hard planes of his chest.

"Wow, did your clothes run away?" You joked, craning your neck to look him in the eyes, not daring to avert your gaze elsewhere.

"I spilled my drink on it." Aang huffs, pouting a little which only made things worse on your end, wanting to bite his cheeks that puffed out a little.

"You didn't think to Air bend and dry it?" You ask, trying to remain composed even as your breath hitched, walking through the door as you stood close to him.

"That doesn't remove wine stains. Katara threw it in the wash." He answered, walking beside you as he led you to the stairs.

"You're drinking?" Your voice came out shocked.

"I was going to, but then Sokka bumped into me." He sulks yet again.

"I thought...Air Nomads do not drink."

"Well...I don't. But everyone has been asking me to try it once, so I agreed to do it today."

"Looks like I came on time." You tease, trying to meets his eyes but failing when he gave you the cutest smile ever.

You both had made your way upstairs, and you were very aware of just how short your skirt was. You wondered if Aang had looked at your ass as you walked in front of him, or had he diverted his gaze out of respect.

Either option had you pressing your thighs together, not daring to turn your head to see where his eyes lingered.

"Hey! You wore it!" Suki's voice had greeted you the moment you entered the room beside Aang.

She was talking about your skirt.

"Yeah. I have no where else to wear this." You had answered with a smile, looking a the spacious room, a low table in the center with food already set on it.

"It looks great!" Katara compliments you, to which you smile.

"Thanks!"

"Yeah, cute outfit!" Aang chimed in from behind you, making you turn to face him.

"...Thanks Aang." You had tried to keep it in, but your heart had practically leapt out of your chest as his voice.

"You're late!" Toph greeted you in her own manner, making you turn back around and roll your eyes at her.

"Oh! I am so sorry, ma'am."

"You just rolled your eyes, didn't you?" She commented, taking a chug of whatever was in her cup.

"Yep. Proudly too." You retorted with a grin walking towards the group.

Toph had taken one of the shorter ends of the table, sprawling comfortably in her spot while Suki, Sokka, and Katara settled along one of the longer sides. 

Across from them sat Zuko with an empty place beside him, which you claimed easily, folding your legs beneath you once you sat down.

And a part of you had hoped Aang would occupy the space that had been left empty on your other side, but you should have known better as you watched him take the opposing end of where Toph sat...right beside Katara.

Well, Zuko was technically also seated beside him, but it barely mattered when you watched Katara subtly close the distance between herself and Aang.

No one would have noticed it unless they had been observing closely.

Which you were.

You watched the two as the conversations picked up again around you, watching how Aang too scooched a little closer to Katara each time she said something.

It made you nauseous.

You had done this. You had practically thrown him into her arms all those years ago, and the karma of it had come to bite you in the ass.

It only made things worse that all you could think about in that situation was how gorgeous his abs were.

You could already imagine how nice they would feel against your cunt, rubbing mindlessly on them as those sinful hands of his would keep you pressed to him, grabbing the flesh of your hips to move you even faster, letting you cum on his skin. 

You watched as Aang finally took his first sip of whatever alcohol Sokka had poured for him, observing as he gagged at the taste of it, leading him to have a coughing fit.

While the others chuckled at his antics, Katara reached over to rub slow circles against his back, trying to ease him through the coughing fit.

It made you sick.

The sight of her hands against his bare skin. The ease with which he leaned into her touch, comfortable enough to accept it without thought.

And it only got worse when he turned slightly toward her while thanking her softly.

"Are you alright, Aang?" you asked, hoping to interrupt whatever quiet little moment had begun forming between them.

Aang looked over at you immediately, a sheepish smile pulling onto his face.

"Y-yeah. Just need a m-minute," he managed, his voice still rough from coughing as he tried to steady his breathing.

You simply nodded, masking your satisfaction beneath a look of concern when Aang motioned for Katara to stop, quietly insisting he was alright now. Reluctantly, she pulled her hand away and settled back into her place beside him.

It was around 10 minutes later when the effects of whatever amount of alcohol had managed to bypass Aang's throat had started to take effect.

A warm flush spread slowly across his skin, staining not only his cheeks but trailing down the length of his neck and across his chest in soft patches of pink.

You tried not to stare at him.

Without the excuse of him talking animatedly or moving around the room, admiring him so openly would have been far too obvious.

But, the sight of his lightweight body unable to withstand a shot of alcohol had you squirming in your seat, knowing your pussy was actively soaking your panties as the conversations continued. 

Aang had long since stopped participating in the conversation, now hunched over the table with his face buried into his folded arms while the others continued talking around him. 

Every few minutes, Zuko would slide another glass of water toward him, insisting it would help flush the alcohol out of his system.

Aang only mumbled that he was fine, though his words slurred slightly when he complained that he had not expected to feel so "floosy" after a single sip.

You on the other hand, were burning. Your pussy was desperately clenching around nothing, dripping on the flimsy fabric, as you now regretted wearing the skirt.

Aang's drowsy posture had given you something entirely new to admire. The broad slope of his shoulders, the defined muscles shifting faintly beneath his skin whenever he adjusted against the table, the elegant curve of his back disappearing beneath the waistband of his pants.

It took everything in you not to stare openly.

Your thoughts drifted embarrassingly fast, fixating on the sight of his back and imagining what it would feel like beneath your hands.

You fantasized how desperately your nails would claw at his back as he pushed his cock into you, fucking your fervently.

Or maybe he'd let you rest your legs over his shoulders as he ate you out, driving his tongue into you which will make your heels dig into his back, only pushing him closer. 

Maybe he would even make you squirt? He was quiet talented at waterbe—

Your thoughts came to an abrupt halt the moment Aang pushed himself upright, mumbling something about needing to use the restroom before slowly making his way out of the room.

You lifted your wine glass toward your lips, eyes instinctively following him until he disappeared down the hallway, turning left once he stepped out.

Only then did you take another sip, absentmindedly humming in agreement to whatever Toph had just said.

Your attention was divided between the room and Aang. And the heat between your thighs had become unbearable to the point you had to take care of it. 

A few minutes later, you finished the last of your wine and set the empty glass aside before excusing yourself as well, adjusting your skirt once you rose to your feet.

You followed the same path Aang had taken earlier, slower with your steps this time, though upon reaching the hallway you quickly realized the restroom was empty.

You only shrugged to yourself before slipping inside anyway, locking the door behind you and closing the seat before sitting down, hiking your skirt up around your waist.

You spread your legs wide enough to let your hand slip inside, sliding your panties to the side to bury two fingers deep.

You were so slick and hot, it was almost pathetic. 

Your fingers did absolutely nothing in comparison to the fantasies you'd built of Aang doing this to you.

Leaning back, you began pumping your fingers, but the ridiculous amount of wetness made it difficult to find any real friction against your pussy. 

It was frustrating, yet amusing; you had drenched yourself to the extent that you could barely feel your own fingers rubbing against you.

Nonetheless, the need to have your cunt filled was somewhat satisfied, letting your fingers curl pathetically against the spot you probed for a quick, desperate orgasm.

The pressure built relentlessly, and with it, your voice. You bit your lip hard, trying to suppress the sounds, but the rising heat was too much; a few desperate whimpers slipped past your teeth despite your best efforts.

It was only when you heard two giggling whispers close by that you froze. 

You slapped a hand over your mouth, eyes widening in a flash of panic as you forced your body to go still.

Judging by the voice, one of them was definitely Suki.

Had she and Sokka slipped away for some privacy?

You sat up straighter immediately, halting every movement as you listened more carefully.

"Oh come on! Isn't it time already? You've liked each other longer than Sokka and I have even been together."

"That doesn't mean we're compatible! You've seen him...he's always busy being the Avatar..."

Katara.

You nearly stopped breathing.

Carefully, you stood up and adjusted your skirt, suddenly far more aware of every tiny sound you made while crossing the bathroom floor. Your hand remained clamped tightly over your mouth as you moved closer to the door, pressing your ear lightly against the wood to hear them better.

"So? He's never going to stop being the Avatar! Does that mean you'll wait until he's on his deathbed?"

"No...I just don't want to become a burden. He already has so many responsibilities, I don't want to add myself to them."

"Katara! You've kissed, for Spirits' sake! And...didn't you have that one night..."

"Shh! Suki, Aang is still out here..."

"Sorry," Suki whispered, lowering her voice even further. "But didn't you?"

You could hear Katara hesitate before she answered.

"Yes...we did do that..."

You froze.

Nausea twisted violently in your stomach at the thought of Katara and Aang together like that, tangled together somewhere inside this very house.

"Then why aren't you two together yet? Did he just use you? Because I can absolutely beat some sense into him."

"No! Spirits, no." Katara sounded horrified by the suggestion. 

"It's my fault. I asked him not to talk about it again...to just put it behind us."

"Why?!"

"I panicked!" she admitted. 

"I really do love Aang, but afterward I just...felt cheap. I couldn't believe we had done something like that before even talking about our feelings properly."

Slowly, you pulled away from the door.

Your hand slipped from your mouth while something sharp and terrible settled into place inside your mind all at once, so sudden it almost felt divine.

That was it.

Your chance.

"What did Aang say?" Suki asked after a moment.

"He agreed," Katara murmured. "Although...now that I think about it, he did seem a little hurt by it."

"Oh Katara, I am so mad at you—"

"Shh!" Katara cut her off quickly. "We've already been gone too long, and we still need to pick up the food from the kitchen." 

Katara quickly hushed her again, dragging Suki away before her voice could rise any further.

Their conversation had given you everything you needed to know.

It seemed you had been terribly wrong about whatever existed between them.

They did not belong to each other, and that meant you could still do something about it.

You waited another few minutes before leaving the bathroom, taking the time to clean yourself up while listening carefully for the sound of their footsteps returning from the kitchen. 

Only once the hallway had gone quiet again did you finally unlock the door and slip outside.

You did not particularly care that your little trip to the bathroom had left you unsatisfied.

Because in the end, it had not been pointless.

As long as there was still a chance for you to have Aang, you could live with the ache between your thighs.

You quietly made your way back toward the room where everyone had gathered, relieved to find them distracted enough to not notice you lingering briefly behind the doorframe.

You only peeked inside long enough to check whether Aang had returned.

He hadn't.

The realization made a smile threaten at the corners of your mouth.

This was your only opportunity.

So you slipped away again, quieter this time, searching through the massive house floor by floor while the sounds of laughter and conversation faded further beneath you.

Only upon reaching the topmost level did you finally slow.

Just before stepping fully into the room, your attention caught on the open balcony doors inside it.

There he was.

Your expression brightened instantly at finally finding him, eyes fixed on the sight of Aang leaning against the railing alone, letting the cold night air wash over him while the city lights flickered below.

Just as you were about to take a step forward—

"Just what are you plotting?" 

Toph's voice came through, although quiet, held her usual fierceness.

You whipped around immediately, barely stopping the startled noise threatening to leave you before finally spotting the blind girl standing further down the hallway.

"Toph!" You hissed under your breath, pressing a hand against your chest before realizing what she had actually asked.

"I...was just making sure Aang was alright..." you answered quickly, which technically was not a lie, hoping it was bypass Toph's instincts.

Toph snorted.

"Yeah. Sure you were. Because you've always cared about him so much."

"Of course I do. He's my friend."

"Exactly," she drawled. "Your friend. Come on, at least try sounding convincing."

"I am not lying."

"Please." Toph folded her arms. 

"I may be blind, but even I can sense your desperation from across the house. 'Cute outfit!' 'Thanks, Aanggg.'" 

She mockingly pitched her voice higher during the imitation. "You were practically squealing."

Heat rushed straight to your face despite your irritation.

"And following after him?" She continued mercilessly. "Could you make it any more obvious? You're lucky everyone else in this house is dense enough to miss it."

You lowered your head slightly, irritation and embarrassment mixing unpleasantly inside your chest while Toph continued talking without pause.

"But not me. Since I am obviously the greatest Earthbender to ever li—"

Her voice rose noticeably toward the end of the sentence, forcing you to quickly slap a hand over her mouth before she could accidentally alert the entire floor.

"Fine, I get it," you whispered sharply. "Now can you please leave?"

Toph peeled your hand off her face with visible offense.

"Rude."

To your surprise, Toph's presence seemed to grow heavier beside you, the teasing tone disappearing entirely.

"You do know what you're doing is wrong, right?"

You paused, genuinely not expecting an actual lecture from her of all people.

"How is it wrong?"

Toph folded her arms. 

"First you reject him. Then you throw him toward Katara. And now that those two finally have something going on, suddenly you want him back?"

"Toph, we were kids," you argued quietly. 

"He's not still hung up over some rejection from when we were twelve. We're friends." You hesitated briefly before adding—

"And those two barely even have anything happening between them. I literally heard Katara admit it herself."

"Doesn't matter. It is still wrong."

"You're acting like I'm breaking them apart. They were never together to begin with!"

Toph clicked her tongue.

"You're still meddling. Worse, you're trying to steal him from your own friend."

You exhaled slowly, trying to keep your composure intact.

"Toph," you said carefully, "you're supposed to be the sensible one here. Is it really my fault if, after all these years, Aang ends up choosing me?"

"What makes you so sure he will?"

"Because Katara already had her chance." The words left you more sharply than intended. 

"They've spent years dancing around each other and still nothing came out of it. I disappeared from his life completely, and somehow even that wasn't enough to push them together." You glanced toward the balcony again. 

"At some point, maybe you have to admit it's simply not meant to be."

"You can't be the judge of that."

"I'm not trying to be." You straightened slightly, smoothing your skirt back into place before lifting your chin. 

"Aang will make his own choice. And if he chooses me...then just know I was right." A faint smile touched your mouth.

Toph let out a slow breath through her nose.

You glanced toward her once more before stepping back toward the doorway leading to the balcony.

"Now go, Toph. I'm sure you don't want to become someone who meddles."

She clicked her tongue at that, clearly unimpressed by your attempt at turning her own argument against her, though after another moment she finally sighed and began walking away down the hallway.

Yeah.

She really was a good friend.

Unlike you.

You stepped into the room slowly, making sure your footsteps were loud enough to announce your presence rather than startle him.

Still, you saw Aang's shoulders tense slightly at the first creak of the floorboards behind him.

He turned around quickly. "Katara?"

The name struck harder than you expected.

But the moment he realized it was you instead, surprise softened into a smile.

"Hey..." His voice quieter now, softened by the lingering haze the alcohol had left behind.

You approached carefully as you joined him near the railing, sliding the balcony doors shut behind you to block out the noise from downstairs.

You smile up at him, trying not to show your irritation at the name he had called out.

"Hi, Aang. Are you alright? You've been gone for a while." You kept your tone light, sweet enough to avoid making him cautious.

"Yeah," he answered with a small laugh beneath his breath. "I just needed some air. Clear my head a little."

"I see." You rested your arms lightly against the railing beside him. 

"Feeling better now?"

"Much."

He smiled again before glancing back toward the streets below.

"I think we should've predicted you'd be a lightweight."

"Seriously. It felt like my head fell off after one sip." Aang laughed rubbing the back of his neck.

"You head seems to be on right at least." You muse, leaning your back against the railing, having your head turned towards him as you spoke.

"Yup! I feel like myself again! For the most part at least." He jokes, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

"You certainly look like you do." You tease, your eyes drifting over him once more before returning to his face.

"Come on. Let's go back! You did find me after all...everyone must be waiting." He says, before stepping away from the railing.

He had barely taken more than a couple of steps before your hand reached out instinctively, fingers wrapping around his forearm to stop him.

"Wait, Aang!"

He stopped the moment your hand touched him, turning back toward you almost immediately while you gently pulled him to a halt.

"Everything alright...?" He asked, remaining where he was instead of pulling away from your touch.

"Yeah, I just...I wanted to talk to you about something." You slowly let go of him once he stepped back beside you again.

"Oh." Aang settled against the railing once more, patient as ever. 

"What's up?"

"Aang..."

Well fuck. You didn't actually think this through.

You had managed to get yourself up here alone with him, had spent the last twenty minutes convincing yourself this was your perfect opportunity, and now that he stood in front of you waiting so openly for whatever you wanted to say, you realized you had absolutely no idea how to make any of this work without sounding insane.

How exactly were you supposed to convince the boy you once rejected to choose you over the girl he had spent years being smitten with?

The girl he had apparently already shared a bed with.

Your teeth sank unconsciously into your bottom lip while nerves clawed their way through you, your throat tightening with the sudden realization of how pathetically desperate you must have looked tonight.

Toph had been right.

Spirits, she had been completely right.

You tried not to let any of it show on your face, but something must have slipped through regardless, because Aang picked up on it immediately.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

Aang's voice softened immediately with concern as he stepped closer, one hand settling carefully against your shoulder in an attempt to pull you out of whatever spiral you had disappeared into.

The touch snapped you back to reality far too quickly, his touch sending a chill throughout your skin, his newly matured voice doing wonders for your already fuzzy mind.

It completely ruined your ability to think straight.

"Why didn't you ever visit me?" The question slipped out before you could stop it.

Aang blinked in confusion. "What...?"

Well.

You had already said it now.

There was no point trying to take it back.

"Everyone visited me. Or at least wrote to me often. You never did...and eventually your letters stopped showing up too."

Aang looked genuinely taken aback by that.

"Is that why you've been mad at me?"

You frowned slightly. "I've been mad at you?"

"You keep glaring at me, and you've barely talked to me since you got here." He admitted carefully.

Between obsessing over him and trying not to stare at him every five seconds, you may have completely forgotten to behave like a normal person around him.

In hindsight, perhaps openly glaring at Katara every time she touched him had not been particularly subtle either.

The realization made heat crawl straight up your neck, embarrassment settling uncomfortably in your chest at the thought of who else might have noticed your behavior tonight.

Though, considering Toph had described the others as "dense as rocks," perhaps you still had some dignity left intact.

But then again, you figured you could use that to your advantage.

"Yes. I am angry with you." You confirmed, averting your gaze, knowing damn well his absence in your life hadn't been significant either way.

Aang's expression fell almost immediately.

"I'm sorry. You never wrote back and I just thought..." He hesitated briefly before laughing awkwardly under his breath.

"I don't know. I thought maybe you hated me." Aang admits, trying to convince you he didn't do anything deliberately.

"Why would I hate you, Aang?"

Your voice softened deliberately around his name while you turned your face again, grateful for the lingering effects from the wine making your flushed appearance seem far more believable.

"I don't think my heart could ever hate you," you murmured. "No matter what you did."

"That means a lot to me. Really."

You nearly frowned when Aang completely missed the implication behind your words, smiling instead at what he clearly believed was simple affection.

"I know I annoyed you a lot back then," He continued with a sheepish laugh. "Following you around and all. I just thought you didn't like me."

You knew he did not mean 'like' in a romantic sense.

Though even if he had, he would not have been entirely wrong.

"I did like you, Aang," you admitted softly. "I think...I admired you more than I wanted to."

His looked taken aback at that.

"At first, I honestly couldn't stand any of you," you continued with a quiet laugh. "Watching you and Katara run around the North Pole disrespecting centuries of tradition nearly drove me insane." 

You shook your head lightly. 

"But I'm grateful for it now."

"I heard you started your own academy for women."

The pride in his voice made warmth bloom annoyingly in your chest.

"Yes. Alongside healing, I teach combat to anyone interested in learning." A faint smile crossed your face. 

"For that, I only have you and Katara to thank. Which is why..."

You let your voice trail off after that, deliberately avoiding his eyes while your fingers traced absent patterns against the railing, hoping it would make him more curious. 

And it does, almost predictably so.

"Which is why?" Aang prompted gently.

You hesitated just long enough.

"Which is why it hurt when you never showed up."

The apology appeared on his face instantly.

You could see it in the subtle stillness that overtook him, in the way his hands loosened against the railing as though guilt had slipped into his bones before he could defend himself.

"I thought you didn't want me there." He admitted quietly. 

"You never answered any of my letters, and after a while I just..." He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head once. 

"I didn't want to bother you."

A smile touched your mouth, carrying just enough sadness to make him regret the sentence before it had even finished leaving him.

"You could never bother me."

The night air drifted between you both, carrying distant sounds from the streets below, though they hardly reached the balcony anymore. 

His attention had settled entirely onto you now, patient and open in the way only Aang could be, and you hated how easy it was to pull him in once he decided to listen.

"I kept thinking you'd visit eventually," You continued.

"Every few months someone would arrive at the tribe and for a moment I'd convince myself it would be you." A quiet laugh escaped you. 

"Sokka and Suki came whenever they could. Katara visited enough that the children started asking when she would return. Even Toph showed up once and insulted half the tribe before she left."

That finally earned a laugh from him and you waited for it to fade before looking up again.

"But never you."

The amusement disappeared from his expression so quickly it almost made you feel cruel.

"I didn't know you wanted me to."

"I think I just expected you to know."

You softened the line the moment it landed, turning your head away before it could sound accusatory.

"Aang" and "knowing" had always belonged together. 

He noticed every frightened child, every wounded stranger, every person trying too hard to pretend they were alright. 

You were counting on that part of him now, feeding it carefully until he began searching your face for things you had not yet said.

"Spirits. This sounds embarrassing now." You say, covering your face with your hands.

"No, it doesn't."

The answer came too quickly, and so did his hands as they rested on yours, pulling them away from your face.

"Back then, you always pushed me away. You never really took me seriously whenever I..." A small laugh escaped him, awkward and fleeting. 

"I thought it meant you didn't want me around."

You looked at him for a moment before smiling faintly.

"Aang, we were children."

The embarrassment on his face deepened instantly.

"You were running around the world flirting with every girl who smiled at you."

"That is not true."

"Suki told me you tried to impress the Kiyoshi Warriors by flexing your staff."

"That was one time. I had never been around people who admired me before."

"You asked me if I thought your tattoos made you look mysterious."

"That—! That was Sokka's idea of— Ugh..." Aang groaned quietly into his hand while you laughed under your breath, watching the tension ease from him little by little.

"You were impossible, of course I didn't take you seriously." You chuckled.

"But...you do now?"

There it was.

Just a sliver of hope in his voice.

You waited, hesitating for a good anticipating moment before you spoke.

"I just...I think somewhere along the way...you stopped being a boy I simply found...amusing."

The honesty in that sentence unsettled him. His attention lingered on you, trying to read through your expression and failing each time you softened before giving too much away.

"You still could've written back to me." He muttered, though the guilt had not left him entirely.

"I know." You sighed lightly, searching your head for a believable excuse.

"But after the war ended, everything changed so quickly. You had a city to build. Katara stayed beside you. Sokka had Suki. Zuko was ruling an entire nation. Toph disappeared into whatever cave she crawled out of. " A smile tugged briefly at your mouth. 

"I suppose I convinced myself there wasn't really a place left for me."

"That's not true." 

"Isn't it?" You shot back instantly.

You did not say it bitterly. It was important not to do so. You couldn't show any anger or place blame. 

"You all built something together here while I stayed behind in the North teaching children how to heal sprained wrists."

"You did more than that."

"I know," you answered gently. "But it's different hearing about someone's life through letters instead of being part of it. And every time your letters became shorter, I told myself it was normal. You were growing into someone important. But..."

You paused again, and you knew every time you did so was nipping at his curiosity.

"You were important to me, Aang."

His throat shifted around a swallow.

"You were important to me too."

"Were?"

The correction slipped out playfully, but it struck him all the same. You watched realization move through him at once, watched him stumble over himself trying to fix it.

"Are. I meant are."

You let him have the recovery, lowering your eyes with a quiet smile that rewarded him for it.

"I know everyone needs something from you now," you said after a moment. "The council needs the Avatar. Republic City needs its founder. Whole nations probably line up waiting for a piece of your time." 

His attention was rooted to you. 

"But I didn't miss the Avatar."

He had gone entirely still beneath your words, waiting for you to finish your sentence. 

You slowly moved, catching him off guard as you softly took his hands in yours.

"I missed you."

You could practically feel him trying to make sense of it, trying to decide whether this ache blooming inside his chest had always been there or whether you had placed it there yourself.

"You...make it sound like I abandoned you..." He admitted, though there was no defensiveness in it.

You tilted your head slightly, watching him through your lashes.

"Didn't you?"

"Aang!" A voice echoed faintly somewhere inside the house, muffled by walls and distance. 

Katara.

You felt the interruption scrape across your nerves, but you did not let it show.

Instead, your thumb brushed once against the inside of his wrist, subtle enough to feel accidental.

His attention remained on you.

Interesting.

"I know you had your reasons." You continued gently, lowering your voice until it almost blended into the wind around you. 

"You've always done what everyone else needed first. I think that's why people expect you to wait forever for them."

Something unreadable passed through him then, because he understood exactly what you meant even without hearing her name.

"And what do you need?" He asked.

There it was.

Not the Avatar speaking.

Just Aang.

You let the silence play out for a while before finally moving your hand from his wrist and sliding it slowly into his palm instead, holding it facing up.

"I think, I wanted to know whether you would've chosen me if I had asked you to stay." You said softly,

"...Stay where?" His breath got heavier, very aware of your hand in his. You moved to use both your hands to hold one of his, bringing it closer to yourself with every word you spoke.

"With me? Continue to be a part of my life?" You say with a tilt of you head, brining his hand even closer till his fingers were barely grazed your stomach.

It was only when you slid his hand down, letting it slip under your skirt did he react. His breath hitched a sharp, stifled gasp and a deep flush crept across his face, catching him completely off guard.

"Wait—" 

Aang barely managed his protest before you smoothly cut him off with your own plea.

"I needed you, Aang. And I still do."

You really did.

He felt the heat of you, letting out an audible hiss at the touch. You weren't just warm; you were burning, so soaked that the fabric covering you had long since lost its purpose.

To test the waters, you removed your hands from the equation.

To your surprise, Aang does not pull his hand away, resting it right where it was, fingers pressed into the drench fabric.

You shifted, leaning forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a deep embrace that forced him to hunch over and rest against you. 

As you pulled him close, his face instinctively tucked away, hiding the sheer embarrassment of having his hand still buried between your thighs.

He could have moved. He should have. Yet, he stayed.

And he only melted further into you when your voice added—

"I really need you...Aang."

Apparently it had been enough to set him off, as you felt his fingers slip past the fabric failing to hold your desire, and his touch began experimental movements across the length of your folds, testing just how wet you really were.

"Hahh...!"

A breathless huff escaped you. The sensation of his fingers was far better than any fantasy had led you to expect.

Aang still hid his face against the curve of your neck, but you could feel his warmth radiating against you. 

The sweat that had beaded on his forehead, cutting through the arrow, now getting smeared onto you.

It didn't bother you not when you could feel his ragged, confused breaths fanning against your skin.

Dropping one arm from around him, you slid it between your thighs, pressing yourself against his hand to encourage him to dip inside.

He complied, though with a heavy hesitation, taking a few agonizing seconds to decide which finger would breach you first.

A moan escaped you, only to be stifled as you bit down hard on his shoulder. The memory of Katara looking for him just moments ago flashed through your mind.

You silently wished the fellow Water Tribe girl wouldn't ruin this moment for you.

Not when you were so close to having him.

Aang remained pressed against your shoulder, his mind a whirlwind of uncertainty. The frantic beating of his heart was uncontainable, and he knew you could surely feel the thud of it against your own skin.

His mind drifted to Katara. He remembered when they had finally seemed to have something, only for her to put a hold on it never speaking of it again, acting as if nothing had changed.

But you were right here, soaking his hand with a heat that was clearly a desperate need for him.

Sure, you had turned him down, but you were kids! And he was annoying and unserious back then.

And he had insulted your tribe's customs, likely offending you far more than he had ever intended.

He had spent so long thinking you hated him, never realizing that you had been caring for him all along.

And he had denied you that care, never once coming to visit.

He was torn.

He was caught between the woman who had shut him down when they were children, the one he held right here beneath his fingers, and the woman he had spent nearly a decade with, only to be turned away just as they had finally made progress.

Unable to decide, he forced himself to focus on the way you wrapped around his fingers, feeling the warmth of your honeyed walls clinging tightly to him.

"Have you...done this before?"

Your voice came in a breathless rasp, finally pulling away from his shoulder where you had been biting down to muffle your cries.

He couldn't be dishonest with you, but his voice failed him; instead, he answered with a silent nod.

You felt the small, hesitant shake of his head against your shoulder. You already knew his answer, after all you had overheard enough of Katara's words to lead you to this very moment.

"Would you like to...tell me who...it was?"

You pressed the question, struggling to keep your moans contained as your focus drifted from the slow pumping of his fingers.

Fuck...he was doing so good.

Aang still couldn't find his voice; worse, he felt too exposed, too shy to answer. 

He found a strange comfort in the way you gave him an option. You hadn't demanded a name or forced him to relive the details; you had simply asked if he wanted to share.

He figured that since you cared for him so deeply, you would never hold his past against him. With that thought, he responded with a small shake of his head.

He disagreed.

If you hadn't already known about him and Katara, his disagreement to sharing the name would have bothered to no extent. But knowing the truth made his hesitation sting. 

Still, in this moment, his reluctance only worked in your favor.

You shifted your weight, swapping your arms; you replaced the one draped over his shoulders with the one that had been aiding him, bringing it down to join his hand between your thighs. 

Your now free hand reached up to his head, stroking softly against his skin as you whispered—

"Okay. You don't have to tell me."

You spoke softly, a gentle balm intended to soothe his nerves.

Minutes passed as his fingers continued their work, though in the lulls, he opened his eyes to gaze at the city sprawling below.

Even though they were on the topmost floor of Katara's home, they weren't entirely invisible. They weren't high enough to be truly hidden; while a passerby at this hour was rare, it wasn't far from impossible. 

If anyone were to look up, they would find the Avatar in a very compromising position.

But he couldn't bring himself to care. Not when it felt like he was searching for the lost puzzle piece of his life inside your cunt. 

You on the other hand were thoroughly enjoying yourself, completely dazed under Aang's tentative touch.

But of course, it was only a matter of time before someone had to ruin it.

You didn't see who it was; all you noticed was the sudden creak of the door as the corridor light spilled into the room, a sharp intrusion that made you instinctively push harder against Aang.

"Someone is here, Aang straighten up!" you ordered in a hurried whisper. He barely seemed to register the command, so you pushed against his shoulders with renewed urgency, forcing him to straighten up and take a frantic step back.

"Oh! There they are!" Sokka's voice cut through the silence, muffled and faint behind the balcony door. You knew you only had a few seconds before he made his way over.

Moving with desperate grace, you caught Aang's hand, guiding it out from inside you. 

You brought his hand up to your face, and he watched, mesmerized, as you used both hands to direct him.

You pressed his slick fingers against your lips, observing his wide eyes as you slowly dragged the wetness down, your bottom lip bouncing back into place as the finger passed.

His first real reaction came when you took those same fingers into your mouth, cleaning them with a slow, deliberate sweep of your tongue before letting them fall.

His lips pressed together in a tight, pained line as you licked your own, wiping your tongue across your bottom lip while keeping his gaze locked onto yours. 

It was only when Sokka finally swung the balcony door open that you used a free hand to casually wipe the remaining moisture from your mouth.

"Do you have any idea how long we've been looking for you?"

Sokka's voice came first. You still could not properly see him with Aang standing between you and the entrance, though the annoyance in his tone painted the expression well enough.

"Why would you guys come all the way up here?"

Katara spoke next.

Instinctively, your attention flicked back toward Aang, searching immediately for some reaction at the sound of her voice.

There was none.

He remained entirely absorbed in the moment you had dragged him into, eyes fixed stubbornly on your mouth as though he still felt your lips around his fingers. 

And because he was looking at you so devotedly, you knew you could not risk letting your satisfaction show.

So you put on a usual cheeky smile.

Leaning slightly to the side, you finally stepped into view of the Water Tribe siblings.

"Katara! Sorry for intruding around your house," you said easily. "I just needed some air and ended up finding Aang here."

You smiled sweetly while speaking to her.

"It's alri—"

Katara barely managed half the sentence before Aang interrupted unexpectedly.

"Could you guys give us a moment?"

Even while speaking, he never looked away from you.

"What?" Sokka laughed. "You guys talking about something we're not allowed to hear?"

The joke landed far closer to the truth than he realized.

"We were discussing your birthday present," you answered smoothly before Aang could attempt it himself. "You don't want us ruining the surprise, do you?"

The lie came easily, effortless beneath your smile.

"Oh, sweet." Sokka grinned immediately. "Come on then, you two. Aang's still not off the hook for abandoning his drink after one sip."

You nodded along lightly at his teasing.

"Come on, Katara."

He motioned toward his sister, though Katara still had not taken her eyes off Aang.

"Your robes are clean now," she told him quietly. "You can dry them out and put them back on."

She was waiting for him to answer.

You truly expected him to.

But after several seconds passed in silence, with Aang still standing there looking entirely lost in you, you finally spoke for him instead.

"He'll be there in a minute," you said gently.

Katara's expression shifted almost imperceptibly at that, though all she gave in response was a small nod.

The siblings eventually turned away, disappearing back through the doorway.

You missed the way Sokka's smile slowly faded the moment they left the room, suspicion settling quietly beneath his expression.

The second they disappeared from sight, you turned back toward Aang and lifted your arms around his shoulders, slowly pulling his face closer to yours.

"Aang..."

He said nothing.

For one horrible second, you genuinely wondered whether you had pushed him too far, whether everything you had carefully built tonight had finally cracked beneath the weight of your own desperation.

Still, you forced yourself to continue.

"I have certain feelings for you, and..."

You let the sentence trail off deliberately, lowering your eyes for only a moment to see whether he would follow.

He did, meeting your eyes quickly.

"...If you feel the same," you continued softly, "or even if you don't...I would rather you tell me honestly instead of making me guess."

He still doesn't say anything, and suddenly you became painfully aware of the fact he still was not touching you back. 

His hands remained tightly wrapped around the balcony railing while he stayed slightly hunched within your hold, breathing harder than before yet making no move toward you at all.

So you leaned in first.

Your lips barely brushed his, letting it rest against him softly, giving him every opportunity to close the distance himself if he wanted to.

You waited.

But when nothing came from him, you slowly pulled away again, forcing yourself to accept the rejection with whatever dignity you still had left.

You released him completely after that.

Without another word, you moved past him and made your way back toward the room alone, fixing your appearance along the way while trying not to think too hard about the humiliation burning through your chest.

By the time you reached the room again, Zuko was approaching from the opposite hallway carrying a rolled mattress beneath one arm.

"You're staying over?" You asked quietly, falling into step beside him.

"We all are," he answered simply while pushing the door open. "Sokka's idea."

"Let me help."

You moved beside him automatically, helping spread the mattress across the floor while the others continued setting up the rest nearby.

Several minutes later, Aang finally returned.

The moment he stepped back into the room, nearly everyone looked up toward him automatically while Katara quietly approached with his robes folded neatly in her arms, still slightly damp from washing.

"Thanks..." he says, accepting them with a small smile though noticeably avoiding her eyes.

With one absent motion of his hand, warm air rushed through the fabric until the remaining dampness vanished completely, pulling the robes back on quickly.

"You're staying over, right, Aang?" Katara asked him.

Aang let out a distracted hum first, clearly taking a second to even process the question.

"Y-yeah! Yeah, I'll stay." He answered.

Then he moved toward the others to help arrange the remaining mattresses across the floor.

You noticed immediately how carefully he avoided looking at you.

Humiliation crawled so violently through your chest that for one awful moment you genuinely thought you might burst into tears right there in front of everyone.

So, you decided to play your final card.

After finishing helping Toph Beifong with one of the mattresses, you slowly rose to your feet. The others remained distracted arranging blankets and arguing over sleeping spots, giving you the perfect moment to speak.

"I'm sorry, guys." You said quietly, right before the final mattress could be laid down properly. 

"I think I'll head back to the inn for the night."

Almost immediately, Suki looked up in concern, her attention catching on your agitated expression.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah." You forced a faint smile. 

"I don't think the wine sat right in my stomach, and I'd rather be alone before it gets worse."

The excuse sounded embarrassingly pathetic even to you, though thankfully nobody questioned it.

You had barely managed three steps toward the hallway when Aang's voice suddenly cut through the room behind you.

"Wait—"

The word came out louder than he intended, pulling the attention of everyone gathered across the floor. Conversations halted almost immediately, Sokka halfway through unfolding another mattress while Suki looked up from where she sat beside him. 

Even Katara paused mid movement, fingers still curled around the edge of folded blankets.

Aang looked momentarily caught off guard by the silence he had created, standing near the doorway with his robes hanging loosely from his shoulders. 

His eyes found yours first before quickly shifting toward the others.

"I'll be back. I'll just walk her back. It's late." He said, clearing his throat once.

You stopped at the sound of him volunteering himself so quickly, though you made sure not to turn around immediately. 

The smile threatening to betray you curled against your mouth before you forced it back down, lowering your head just enough to hide it beneath the curtain of your hair.

Behind you came the soft sound of approaching footsteps.

You finally glanced sideways once his presence settled near enough to feel, only to notice your shadow disappearing beneath his entirely, swallowed whole against the wooden floorboards.

"Let's go."

You nodded softly before leaning sideways toward the room, offering everyone one last smile.

"Goodnight."

A chorus of sleepy replies followed, though the atmosphere had shifted too strangely.

You stepped into the hallway first, Aang close behind you.

Perhaps Katara already understood he would not be returning tonight. 

Perhaps all of them did.

Because right before Aang had pulled his robes back on, the mark you left behind had not gone unnoticed.

The bite pressed near his shoulder stood out plainly against his skin for one terrible second before fabric covered it again, though one second had been more than enough.

Enough for Sokka's expression to flatten beneath confusion.

Enough for Suki's eyes to widen before she quickly looked away.

Enough for Katara to go completely still.

No one spoke of it.

They simply resumed around the absence, voices awkwardly finding each other. 

Toph remained the only one untouched by the shift in atmosphere, still arguing with Zuko over where she wanted to sleep while the rest of them waited quietly for the Avatar's return despite knowing, somewhere deep down, that he would not be coming back anytime soon.

The walk back to the inn passed beneath a suffocating silence, neither of you quite knowing what could possibly be said after what had happened on that balcony.

Aang stayed half a step ahead the entire way, shoulders tense beneath his robes, attention fixed stubbornly on the empty streets ahead rather than you. 

You noticed it after the second block.

His hand.

The same hand that had been between your thighs less than half an hour ago kept flexing at his side every few moments, fingers curling tightly into his palm before releasing again, restless and agitated.

Once, he nearly lifted it toward his face before abruptly stopping midway, jaw tightening faintly as he forced it back down again.

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling.

Because despite the distance he was trying so desperately to create between himself and what happened, his body had already betrayed him entirely.

By the time you reached the inn, the silence between you had grown so dense it nearly felt tangible.

Aang stopped only once the two of you stood at the entrance, the lantern hanging beside gate casting a dim glow across the side of his face. 

For the first time since leaving Katara's house, he finally looked at you properly.

"Okay. Goodnight." He said after a moment.

You watched him step past you.

And just before he could get too far, you finally spoke.

"Come to my room, Aang."

He stopped instantly.

For a second he did not move at all, standing there with his back turned toward you before slowly facing you again. 

The flush across his face had not faded in the slightest, still spread stubbornly over his cheeks and ears while confusion sat plainly beneath it.

You tilted your head slightly.

"Did you really come all this way just to say nothing?"

Aang opened his mouth briefly, only for whatever response he meant to give to die somewhere before reaching his tongue. 

His attention slipped away from you again, landing somewhere near the floor while his hand flexed once more at his side.

Then, without a word, he closed the distance between you.

You turned before he could second guess himself, walking down the hallway with measured steps while his followed close behind you. 

Neither of you spoke as you unlocked the door, pushing it open before stepping aside to let him enter first.

Aang hesitated slightly before walking in.

You shut the door behind you and leaned against it for one brief moment, fingers still curled around the handle while your heartbeat thundered violently against your ribs.

Because all you could think now was—

It was now or never.

"Aang." You call out softly, just his name, testing the weight of it.

He flinches like you've struck him. His shoulders drop, his head bowing as if he's suddenly carrying the weight of the entire world again. 

"I shouldn't be here," he whispers into the quiet of the room, his voice cracking enough to show how close he is to snapping. 

"I should go back. It's not right, and—"

"It's not right," you interrupt, your voice dropping an octave. You take one step closer, watching him tense. 

"But you want to stay. You want this so badly it's making you tremble, Aang."

He lets out a ragged, broken sound somewhere between a sigh and a groan as he finally looks up. His eyes are wide and desperate with of confusion. 

"It's not that simple."

"Why not?" You're in his space now, close enough to feel the heat coming off him. 

You reach out, your fingertips barely grazing the fabric of his robes along his collarbone where you bit him earlier. 

He shudders at the proximity, his breath hitching. 

"You can go back to being the perfect Avatar, the perfect friend, the perfect everything. You can walk out that door right now and pretend this never happened."

You lean in closer, your lips brushing his ear, your voice a velvet promise. 

"But you won't. Because for the first time in your entire life, you're going to choose what you want. Not what's right or expected of you. Just what you want."

You pull back enough to catch his gaze, your eyes dark with the truth of it. 

"So tell me, Aang. Are you really going to walk out that door?"

He moves away from you, crossing to reach your bed.

Aang sinks onto the edge of your bed, burying his face in his hands as if he can squeeze the conflicting thoughts right out of his skull. 

You move to sit beside him, your thigh brushing his, and the way he flinches even now makes your pulse thrum.

"Why is this bothering you so much?" You ask softly, your voice a gentle caress against his turmoil.

"It's not..." He chokes out the lie, his fingers digging into his scalp. 

"It's just...everything changed. The way I look at you, the way you look at me it's like the world shifted and I don't know where my feet are supposed to land."

He turns his head, searching your face for something an explanation, a reason.

He finally asks—

"What do you need from me?"

You paused, not having expected it but grateful for his question nonetheless.

"I just want you." You say simply.

He stares at you, eyes wide and searching, trying to untangle the knots you've tied in his mind. 

You don't make him wait. 

You stand, moving between his knees as you straddle him, settling yourself firmly in his lap.

His hands hesitate in the air, fingers twitching as if they want to catch you, to hold you and then they drop, fists clenching at his sides as he forces himself to stay still.

"I will give you everything you want, Aang," You promise him, leaning in until your breath fans over his lips. 

"I will never disappoint you. I'll give you a home. Children. A safe place where you can just be Aang. No burdens."

The silence that follows is different, heavy with the weight of the life you've just offered him. 

Finally, he finds his voice. 

"Why...?"

"Because I want to." You say, the words sure and steady. 

"I want to be your wife."

Aang's entire body stills. 

His eyes widen, his breath hitching in his throat as if you've just knocked the wind out of him. 

"Why...why would you want that?" He sounds genuinely lost, as if you've just spoken a language he doesn't understand.

"Because..." You hesitate, letting out a chuckle as you see him unconsciously lean closer in patience.

"I love you," you say, leaning forward to press your forehead against his, closing your eyes. 

"And I want you to be free."

You stay there for a moment, letting the weight of your confession settle. 

When you pull back, he's looking at you with an expression you can't quite read.

It was something between awe and sheer terror.

For a long painful while, Aang said nothing at all. 

His eyes slowly slipped shut, his head lowering slightly while his fingers tightened into fists. 

You watched the conflict move across his face in, watching him sit there trying to untangle every thought pulling him apart from the inside.

And suddenly, fear crawled its way up your spine. It truly felt possible that he might pull away from you completely.

"You will have to come live in Republic City," He says quietly.

You were snapped out of your wallowing thoughts. 

When you finally replayed the moment, his sentence barely registered.

You were still too focused on the fear twisting inside your chest, too busy preparing yourself for rejection to properly process what he had actually said.

Then the meaning finally settled into place.

Your head snapped up immediately, as you froze, pulling back to stare at him in shock. 

"Are you...agreeing?"

He hesitates, his throat working as he swallows hard. Then, slowly, he nods.

You can't help it; a squeal of pure triumph escapes you. 

"Thank you, Aang!" 

You lunge forward to hug him again, the momentum sending you both backward onto the mattress.

When you sit back up, Aang's breath hitches. 

His eyes go wide as you reach for the hem of your top and pull it over your head in one fluid motion. 

The fabric slides off your shoulders, leaving you bare chested in the dim light, your nipples already peaked from the adrenaline.

"What are you doing?" He almost exclaims, his voice cracking. He wrenches his gaze away, jaw tight, shoulders hunching as if he's trying to make himself smaller.

"Isn't this why you came here?" You tilt your head, watching him through your lashes, your voice dropping into that sweet, manipulative purr.

"We still have things to talk about," He says, forcing himself to sit up straighter. 

He stares at your face with desperate intensity, pointedly ignoring the way your breasts are inches from his chest.

"Do you...not want me?" You let the question hang, making your voice go small, making your eyes well with perfectly calculated tears.

"That's not—!!" He cuts himself off, the confession dying in his throat.

"Then kiss me..." You whisper, the command soft but absolute.

Another moment passes in a thick and suffocating silence before he finally gives in. 

He leans in, his movement hesitant as he presses his lips to yours. 

It's not the confident kiss of a man who knows what he wants, it's the kiss of someone who's finally stopped fighting the inevitable.

You let the kiss linger, pressing into him enough to leave him breathless, then pull back with a shy, triumphant smile. 

"There..." You whisper, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. 

"That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Before he can answer, you reach for the ties of his robes. 

Your movements are swift as you undo the knots. 

Aang freezes, his breath hitching in his throat, but he doesn't pull away. 

You peel the heavy fabric from his shoulders, exposing the broad span of his back and the striking blue line that curves down his spine. His skin is hot beneath your palms, and you feel the way his muscles jump at your touch.

"You're so beautiful." You coo, your voice a velvet caress as you slide the robes down his arms, leaving him bare chested. 

The arrowheads on his hands flex as he grips the mattress, knuckles white, his chest heaving.

You shift your weight, moving from his laps as you sink to your knees onto the ground between his legs, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. 

"May I?" you ask, your hands already moving to the waistband of his pants.

Aang makes a sound like he's choking on it. 

"I... yes," He manages, his voice barely a whisper.

When you finally free him, he's already past the point of no return. 

You take him in your hands first, stroking him slowly, watching his head fall back as his hand tremble to hold his weight upright. 

Then you lean in.

The first touch of your lips makes him gasp, his hips jerking up involuntarily. 

You go slow, teasing him, swirling your tongue around the head, catching every drop of pre cum. 

You want him to feel every sensation, to realize exactly what he's been missing. You take him in deep, inching slowly as your throat tightens around him, and the sound that leaves him is raw and broken.

"Spirits, please..." He moans, his fingers digging harshly into the sheets.

"Do you like this, Aang?" You murmur against him, pulling back enough to look up at him. 

"Do you like how I take care of you?"

You let the question hang in the air, your tongue slowly tracing the length of him again, making him whine that sweet, broken sound that tells you exactly how close he is. 

You can feel the way he's trembling beneath your touch, his breath coming in shallow, uneven hitches.

"Shh, I know," You whisper against him, your lips barely brushing the sensitive skin. 

"I've got you, Aang. Let me take care of you."

You keep your movements agonizingly slow. 

You drag your tongue up and down, teasing the ridge with just enough pressure to make his hips twitch involuntarily before you pull back. 

You want him suspended here right on the edge of conflict and emotion, hoping it might bring out some of his truth out with it.

His hand moves, finding the top of your head.

His fingers tangle in your hair, not pulling you but holding you there, grounded by the contact. 

"You're...you're making it so hard," He chokes out, his eyes squeezed shut, his head lulling back and forth.

"Is it too much?" You murmur, your voice dripping with fake concern as you take him deeper. 

You swirl your tongue around the tip, and the sound he makes, that wrecked, desperate whimper is better than any confession he could have given you.

You keep your pace steady, your eyes never leaving his face as you watch him whimper breathlessly. 

You lean back to press a soft kiss to his inner thigh, your lips barely grazing him, and hear him catch his breath sharply.

"Please..." He pleads, his voice cracking. "I don't... I don't know how to "

"It's okay," You interrupt softly, your hands sliding up his thighs to feel the taut muscle there. 

"Just feel it, Aang. Just feel how good this is."

You go back down, your tongue working in slow, deliberate circles, teasing the sensitive skin just below the head. 

When his hips buck upward, nearly meeting you halfway, you pause, pulling back once again to look up at him through your lashes. 

His chest is heaving, his skin flushed, those arrowhead on his hand flexing as he dug into the bedding.

"Do you want more?" You ask, your voice a velvet trap.

He can't even find words. 

He just nods, his whole body trembling with the effort of holding back.

You take him in deep, your throat tightening around him, letting out a soft, satisfied hum as you feel him shudder underneath you. 

You keep it slow, tantalizingly close to the edge, making him feel every single second of it.

You pull away abruptly, the sudden absence of your warmth making him let out a pathetic, wounded hiss through his teeth. 

You can't help the laugh that escapes you as you watch his hand leave your head and meet the mattress again, eyes glazed over and unfocused.

"You said earlier you've done this before," You state, moving your hand to resume that slow, torturous slide up and down his length. 

"Did she not do this...?"

Aang shakes his head, his entire body betraying him as a fresh bead of pre cum wells at the tip. 

He doesn't know you already know. He doesn't know you've already heard the truth, and you savor that.

"What did you do then?" You ask, your voice dripping with faux innocence.

"I...I used my fingers on her..." He trails off, his blush deepening to a feverish red that stains his cheeks and the tips of his ears. 

"Then I tried to..."

"Go on..." You encourage, stopping your hand entirely. 

You watch the way his breath hitches at the sudden lack of friction, his hips twitching upward instinctively.

"I used my mouth..." He chokes out, his voice barely audible. "But she didn't like it..."

"Not everyone enjoys it." You say with a gentle shrug.

"It difficult, being so exposed to the person you like..." Trailing off, you wait for a nuance, but his breathless gasps continue.

"Had she asked you to do it?"

"No..." He says immediately, the word tumbling out with a touch of guilt. 

"I just...I didn't want it to hurt her when we..."

You pout.

"How sweet of you, Aang," You coo, resuming the rhythmic movement of your hand. 

His hips jerk in place, his breath hitching as he fights to keep it together. 

"And then what happened?"

"Then we did... it." He groans, his eyes fluttering shut.

"Is she still in your life?" You question, watching to see if he would finally admit it.

"We never spoke about it after..."

"Oh, you poor thing..." You murmur, letting go of him entirely as you move upward to wrap your arms around him. 

You press your face into the crook of his neck, feeling the rapid thudding of his heart. 

"I would never deny you like that, Aang. Never."

The silence stretches and the weight of your words fall thick around you. 

Then, slowly, hesitantly, his arms come around you. His touch is almost reverent, his fingers curling into your back as he pulls you flush against him. 

"Thank you..." He whispers into your hair, so quiet you almost miss it.

You pull back to look him in the eyes, your expression a mask of perfect, gentle understanding. 

"Would you like to...try it with me?"

He doesn't hesitate this time. He nods, his grey eyes focused on yours with a look of surprising relief.

"Okay." You say, your smile widening just a fraction too far to be entirely innocent. 

"I think we can skip a step, since you've already used your fingers earlier tonight. Not that I'm opposed." You give a gentle wink, making him shyly avert his gaze.

The air in the room feels like it might combust from the sheer, unadulterated tension as you slide off his lap, the movement agonizingly slow. 

The sound of your skirt hitting the floor is the only thing breaking the silence, followed by the sight of your soaked underwear being peeled away.

Aang's breath hitches audibly as he watches you maneuver onto the bed.

His eyes drop to where you're sitting back against the pillows, legs spreading open to reveal everything to him, glistening and swollen in the dim light. 

He looks completely undone. 

He crawls forward on his knees, hovering over you like he's approaching something sacred, his hands trembling as they ghost over your thighs.

When his thumb finally makes contact, pressing against your already swollen folds, you can't help it that sharp hiss escapes your teeth.

"Hahh!" 

You arch slightly, your fingers digging into the bedsheets. 

You look down at him through your lashes, voice breathless and strained. 

"Do you...know what to do?"

Aang shakes his head, his face flushed a deep, burning red. 

He looks absolutely terrified to mess this up, yet the need in his eyes is undeniable. 

Without waiting for another word, he leans forward, his tongue darting out to taste you.

The contact makes your hips jerk upward, and when he pulls back, a long, broken moan tears from your throat. 

You can feel the heat radiating off him, the sheer desperation in his movements.

"That's okay..." You say, your voice dropping into as devastatingly sweet, encouraging tone. 

You reach down, your palm cupping his cheek, forcing him to look up at you while his mouth is still wet from you. 

The arrow on his head catches the light, his pupils dilated and hazy with need. 

"I...I will help you..."

You slide your hand over his head, guiding him back down, pressing him closer until his lips meet you again. 

Under your hand, you can feel the way he shudders, gasping against you as he finally lets himself lose control, his tongue working with a clumsy, earnest passion that makes your vision blur.

The way he's looking at you right now dazed and flushed, is better than any orgasm. 

You reach down, your fingers spreading his lips apart just slightly so you can guide his face, your voice dropping into a low and instructional tone.

"No, not like that..." You mumble, your thumb grazing his bottom lip. 

"Lower. Right...there." 

You push him down, your hips tilting instinctively toward the contact. When his tongue finds the swollen nub of your clit, you let out a sharp, broken gasp that makes him jerk back. 

"Slow down, Aang. Use the flat of your tongue. Don't...don't be so frantic."

He obeys instantly, his movements cautious and devout as if he's afraid he might get the same reaction he got last time. 

But you can feel the desperation beneath his hesitation, the way his fingers curl into the flesh of your thighs, knuckles white. 

You guide his head with your hands, showing him exactly how you want to be touched long, slow strokes that make your whole body tense, then quick, teasing laps that make your breath hitch.

"Yes...just like that,... You pant, your voice making the short hairs at the nape of his neck stand up. 

"Oh Aang...! You're doing so good. So good for me..."

The praise is clearly working; you feel him adjust, his tongue finding a rhythm that makes your toes curl.

You can feel him watching you through his lashes, studying your face for every twitch of your lips and every stuttered breath. 

You want him to see exactly what he's doing to you, to witness the way his tongue is pleasuring you unimaginably.

You tilt your head back and whisper his name like a mantra. 

"That's it, Aang! Just like that...You're doing so well for me!"

You let your head fall back against the pillows, your breath coming in shallow, staggered gasps as you guide him. Your hand is gently pressing his face closer whenever he hesitates, whenever he pulls back to look at you with those wide, uncertain eyes.

"There...keep going—!" You moan, your hips tilting up of their own accord. "Right there!"

The ragged sound he makes when he's trying to be careful is more intoxicating than any physical sensation. 

Every time your soft instructions pull a whimper from him, a spike of triumph shoots through you.

He's being so careful. So incredibly gentle with you, his tongue moving with a hesitant reverence that makes your stomach flip. He's trying to learn you, trying so hard to do this right, and the sheer vulnerability of it is what finally breaks you.

You did it.

You eyes flutter shut as another wave of pleasure rolls through you. 

You actually did it.

The thought is more intoxicating than the sex itself. 

The realization that you've dismantled the Avatar, stripped away the hero and the monk until all that's left is this raw, exposed boy who is so desperately trying to please you...it's better than anything you could have imagined when you started this a day ago.

"Y-you're doing so good..." You whisper the genuine praise that makes him shudder. His tongue sweeps again, longer this time, more confident, and you can't help the way your thighs tighten around his face, pulling him in. 

"Just like that, Aang. Don't stop. Don't you dare stop...!"

You listen to the wet, slurping sounds of him working on you, the way he swallows every moan you let out, and you feel that possessive heat blooming in your chest. 

He's not yours yet.

Not entirely. 

But you can feel the shift in him. 

The way he's clinging to you, the way he's listening to you.

When he finally presses his face harder against you, his breath hot against your damp skin, and you feel that first surge of your orgasm building. 

You meet him halfway, your hips arching up, your fingers digging into his skin as you whisper his name like a prayer.

"That's it...oh spirits, Aang..."

You watch him through heavy eyelids, the way his jaw works, the way his eyes go unfocused as he feels you writhe under him. 

And you realize that you're already planning how to make him do this again. 

And again. 

And again. 

Until he doesn't even remember what it was like when you weren't the only thing he wanted to please.

"Aang, I'm—!" The words catch in your throat as a wave of pleasure begins to build harshly.  "I'm going to—!"

"I've got you..." He mumbles against your skin, his voice thick and unrecognizable. 

He presses his face into you, his tongue working with a sudden, focused intensity that shatters your last thread of control.

Your orgasm hits like a physical blow, your entire body going rigid as you cry out his name, sinking your fingers into his scalp as you come apart beneath him. 

You feel him catch every drop, his tongue sweeping over you with a greedy thoroughness that leaves you shaking and breathless.

When you finally slump back, your chest heaving, your skin slick with sweat, he pulls back to look up at you. 

His face is feverish, his lips wet, and his eyes are completely glazed with something that looks terrifyingly close to worship.

"Was that..." He starts, his voice cracking. 

"Was that okay?"

You can't even find the words to tell him it was better than perfect. 

You just reach down, your fingers trembling as you cup his face, pulling him back up for a kiss that tastes of you and him.

You guide his back to the pillows with gentle pressure from your hands on his shoulders, watching the way he settles beneath you, all broad shoulders and lean muscles, his tattooed arms splayed out like he's surrendering to something inevitable. 

He looks utterly wrecked, his breathing still coming in ragged puffs, his gaze following your every movement with a mix of curiosity and unadulterated terror.

"I've got you..." You assure, your voice like honey as you straddle his hips. 

You do not rush it. 

You don't even move to come down on him yet. 

You just sit there, your knees on either side of his thighs, feeling the heat radiating off him. 

"Just breathe, Aang. Look at me."

His gaze snaps up to yours, so wide and vulnerable. 

You reach down, your thumb grazing over his lips to wipe the remnants of your pleasure, and he lets out a choked sound when you touch him.

"Shh..." You coo, leaning forward until your breasts brush his chest, your nipples grazing against his skin. 

"I'm going to be so careful with you. I promise."

When you finally lower yourself down, the way he gasps a broken, shattered sound that rips straight through your chest is almost enough to make you stop. 

But you don't. 

You sink down slowly, agonizingly slow, taking him in inch by inch. 

You watch his eyes pull open before screwing shut the next second, his head falling back into the pillows as you fill yourself completely. You can feel his hands hovering just above your waist, trembling, wanting to grab you but terrified to do so.

"That's it..." You moan, your voice thick with the pleasure he's giving you. 

"Oh Aang...you feel so good."

You start to move, but it's not fast. No matter how desperate you were, you do not pick up your pace. 

You move slow, grinding back and forth on him. 

You're taking your time, riding him with a languid motion that forces him to feel every single corner of you. You lean forward and whisper in his ear.

"Tell me what you want me to do, Aang. Tell me how you want me."

"I..." He swallows hard, his hands finally coming to rest on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin with a desperation that makes your smile.

"I want you to...just like that. Please." His sentence was incomplete, but you understood plenty. 

You let out a throaty moan, arching your back as you grind down on him, your moans getting louder, more shameless. 

You want him to hear it. You want him to hear exactly what he's doing to you. You press your palms flat against his chest, feeling his heart hammering like a trapped bird beneath your touch.

"You're so beautiful..." You whisper, your voice trembling with genuine awe as your eyes brim with tears. 

"My perfect, beautiful Aang."

The way he says your name after, in that broken, wrecked manner is when you know you've really done it. 

You've broken him open. 

And as you find your rhythm, as you ride him with the motive to give him that devastating pleasure, you know you're never letting him go.

You lean forward, as you press your chest against his, burying your face in the crook of his neck. Your fingers find your own aching heat, working in a rhythmic counterpoint.

Aang is completely lost now, his head lolling back, his throat working around a broken moan as you guide him toward the edge.

"Aang..." You whisper against his skin, your breath hot making him shudder. You pull back, looking at him softly as you ghost your lips over his.

"I need you to...I need you to let go. Just like that. For me."

His fingers press into your waist with strength. 

His eyes find yours, and for a moment, you finally see it.

The moment he decides to stop fighting.

When it happens, it's so beautiful. 

You feel his entire body seize beneath you, his hips arching off the mattress as he finally breaks. 

You don't even flinch when he gasps your name with a sob, pressing yourself down hard, grinding against him, ensuring every single drop of him is claimed. 

You take it all, swallowing his release with a greedy, possessive whimper, your own orgasm crashing over you in that leaves you trembling.

You stay there for a long time, collapsed against his chest, listening to the frantic, uneven thudding of his heart. 

You can feel the warmth of him still inside you, a thrumming weight that makes your stomach flip with triumph.

Slowly, you pull back. His eyes are still blown wide, staring at the ceiling with a look of complete, hollowed out shock. 

He's breathing hard, his skin flushed, the arrow on his head a stark against his pale skin. 

He looks utterly shattered, completely undone by you.

"Aang?" you whisper, your voice innocent.

He doesn't answer. He just lies there, staring, still taking long inhales through his nose. 

You know exactly what you've done. 

You've crossed a line he can never uncross. 

You've claimed him in the most irreversible way, and you did it while making him think it was his choice.

"Oh, Aang..." You murmur, your hand coming up to stroke his cheek, your thumb tracing the curve of his lower lip. 

"You were so good. So perfect."

His eyelashes flutter, and for a moment, you think he might cry. Then, his hand moves slow, hesitant and rests against your thigh. It's not a push away. It's still there.

“Weren’t you…supposed to…move?” he managed to choke out eventually, his eyes searching yours while you stared back at him in confusion.

For a moment, you genuinely had no idea what he meant.

So you simply waited for him to explain himself.

Except he never actually said it.

Instead, his attention dropped lower, landing where your bodies were still pressed together intimately, and realization hit you almost instantly.

You giggle, lowering your chest to his, as you hold him.

"I wanted it." You confess softly, leaning forward to press a tender kiss to his temple. 

"I wanted you. All of you."

You stay there, wrapped around him, waiting. 

Waiting for the moment he realizes he can't go back. 

Waiting for the moment he accepts he's yours.

And as you feel him exhale, a long, shuddering breath that dissolves into that of relief, you know.

You've already won.

Months later, sometimes you still thought about the look on Katara's face when you and Aang announced not only that you were together, but that the wedding would follow two months later.

You had not enjoyed it.

That was perhaps the cruelest part of all this. 

Beneath the jealousy, the selfishness, beneath the quiet satisfaction curling inside your chest, Katara had still been your friend. 

The sight of her standing there so perfectly composed while grief leaked through the cracks of her face had filled you with immediate guilt.

But guilt did not undo anything.

She had her chance, and she let it pass her by with trembling hands and too much hesitation. 

You had been offered the very same thing only once, and you had taken it without allowing yourself enough time to think twice.

That alone had decided everything.

It did not matter now anyway. 

The damage had already settled itself between all of you. 

You still saw them, of course.

Toph remained unchanged, thankfully immune to awkwardness, still insulting you with the same affection she always had. 

Zuko treated everything with neutrality, though every now and then you would catch the faintest exhaustion in his eyes whenever tension filled the room for too long.

But Sokka had grown quieter around both of you, his easy laughter no longer arriving naturally, while Suki watched situations unfold with patience, refusing to interfere. 

And Katara—

Katara tried.

Spirits, she really tried.

Yet there was only so much grace a person could carry before it started collapsing under its own weight.

The worst part was that none of them even lived in Republic City anymore except for her.

Despite it, you moved to the city.

You had promised Aang you would, and unlike everyone else, you never made promises to him you did not intend to keep.

The pregnancy had complicated things almost immediately. 

Explaining why your stomach had already begun rounding before the wedding was difficult enough, though the true horror came when four months into your marriage you could no longer disguise it beneath layered robes and loose fabric.

People counted months cruelly.

Especially your own friends.

Still, none of them said anything directly. 

Not even Katara.

Marriage itself settled around you strangely fast. 

Domestic life came naturally, and it unexpected how easily your fell into it.

Slipping into place piece by piece until you could no longer imagine waking without Aang somewhere nearby.

Though 'nearby' often meant temporary.

He was gone more than he was home, forever chasing disasters across nations, disappearing on Appa before sunrise whenever the duties of the Avatar demanded him elsewhere. 

Sometimes he would return exhausted enough to barely stay awake through dinner before collapsing beside you still half dressed.

Other nights he came home restless, carrying the weight of too many people needing too much from him all at once.

But whenever he was home, he loved you openly.

That was what mattered most.

By the seventh month of your pregnancy, Aang had developed the habit of kneeling in front of you every evening, pressing his ear against your stomach with complete seriousness while the twins shifted violently beneath your skin.

"They're arguing again." He would say thoughtfully.

You laughed every single time.

"They are not arguing."

"They definitely are. This one keeps kicking the other."

"They must have inherited your inability to sit still."

Aang only grinned before pressing another kiss against your stomach, completely unbothered by your jokes.

He was convinced both babies would be girls.

You remained certain one would be a boy.

Neither of you won.

The labor lasted nearly an entire night, leaving you exhausted beyond reason by the time the twins finally arrived screaming into the world shortly before dawn.

You gave birth to two boys. 

Two impossibly tiny boys with lungs strong enough to wake half the district.

Aang cried harder than either of them did.

You would remember that forever.

The sight of him sitting beside you with one baby clutched awkwardly against his chest while the other rested in your arms, tears slipping down his face faster than he could wipe them away.

You knew he was overwhelmed by something too enormous to fit inside him.

They looked more like him than you from the very beginning.

Those very grey eyes. His nose. Their pale skin that scrunched impossibly whenever they cried too hard.

You could feel it already, that they would be very powerful.

He held those boys carefully, almost fearfully, as though he could not quite believe they were real.

Months later, late at night. you would often find yourself curled against Aang’s side in bed while the twins slept against his chest, tiny bodies rising and falling steadily.

Something deep in Aang seemed to settle whenever the twins were in his arms. The sight softened something deep inside him every single time.

“What’s wrong?” You asked once after catching him staring at them for far too long, distant thoughts clouding his face while one of the babies slept soundly beneath his chin.

Aang blinked before smiling faintly.

“Nothing.”

You leaned closer, pressing a gentle kiss against his shoulder before settling back into his side again, one hand moving instinctively to pat the back of the baby resting on his chest while Aang carefully adjusted the other higher against him.

Then, after a while, his hand drifted absentmindedly toward one of the twins, fingertips brushing softly through the wisps of hair on his head just as a tiny gust of air stirred weakly around the tiny blankets.

The movement was small, but it made you go completely still.

Because suddenly, you understood.

After all, you had not simply become his wife.

You had become the future of the Air Nomads.

The only future left.

a/n: i laughed OUT LOUD on many occasions as i was editing it. but i still like it very much. so, i will sit in my shame like the clown that i am.

masterlist :: atla masterlist

dividers by @cafekitsune, banner idea based on @bowtiepasta 's "over my dead body", megumi based on sombr

Your treatment never faltered, in both home and University. At home, you had not wanted for a thing, you did as you pleased, always made sure to give your Father a goodnight kiss on the cheek. At University, friends flocked around you, professors complimented your thoughtful essays. Even Valarr, your elder cousin, who was in his final year at KLU, would often sit with you and tell you how well you've grown up.

Aerion would always be sure to check on you between lectures, diverting from his pack of friends for a moment to talk with you. He would ask if your friends were being good to you, ask if your lectures were interesting, ask what Valarr was droning on about today. And that's how everyone saw you both; such a sweet pair of twins both born into such privilege.

Duncan had fought tooth and nail to get to KLU. Through his school years he studied hard, kept his head down to match the required grades to keep his sports opportunities. And when the school day was done, he would return home to his little cottage with his late Father's friend, Arlan, and work the yard. Feed the old man, clean up after him, and prepare to do it all again tomorrow. It meant he secured a scholarship, finally able to attend King's Landing University for free.

When Arlan had passed, Duncan was left entirely alone. With a cottage house; having to duck through the doorways, sleep with his feet off the edge of his bed, walk a mile to get the bus that stops right outside the University. And take a job training younger, richer children in tennis. He hated it, being surrounded by so many pristinely clothed people, who wouldn't know hardship even if it slapped them round the face.

But he swallowed his personal feelings for them, and remained a good teacher. Even befriending the far-too-observant, silver-haired boy who called himself Egg.

"Dunc," the boy would call him, swinging his racket aimlessly with excitable energy. He rather enjoyed tennis lessons, even if it had been something his Father forced him to do, to 'broaden his horizons' for his future.

"Egg, ready for your lesson?" Duncan would call out to him. "Do you remember your open stance, as I taught you?"

The boy would bend his knees slightly, aligning himself parallel to the net, and look at Duncan for approval. As he certainly gave it. Duncan liked Egg, liked his good memory and ability to learn, though the boy asked questions aplenty. The lessons would always go by quickly, Egg's animated way of talking had pushed time along nicely.

"My sister is picking me up today." Egg noted, zipping his racket bag and throwing it over his shoulder. "Have you seen her at school?"

"School?"

"Yes, school." Egg repeated. "King's Landing University."

"Oh," Duncan gulped, "no, I can't say that I have."

Egg shrugged, head torn to the sound of an engine growling as the pristine pink Porsche had parked outside the court. "That's her."

Duncan felt his blood boil, Gods he fucking hated rich kids. They were all the same, save Egg, but he would surely grow into his spoilt life. He would soon expect everyone around him to be as pampered as he was, to have equal opportunities as he would. Rich kids seldom thought of a life outside their own, why would they?

Your car door slammed, and Duncan felt something stir within him. Was his body physically reacting to how sick rich kids made him feel? Was he anticipating some comment about his wealth, and his body braced for impact?

He watched you stalk over to where him and Egg stood, your long silver hair down your back. Thin sunglasses shielding your eyes, little else to cover your skin save a tight top exposing your midriff and your chest. Gods, your chest. It had stolen the air from his lungs. And your legs, wrapped in the shortest skirt he had seen. He felt his chest heat, his face soon following suit. It was not often he saw pretty women, he lived a rather sheltered life.

As did you, though very differently.

"Hey, Egg." You beamed. "How was your lesson?"

Egg handed you his racket bag, bounding towards your car, your eyes following to make sure he didn't lay a scratch against the glossy wrap. This car was your pride and joy. "Fun! Dunc's the best!"

You whipped your head back to the giant before you, with nothing subtle about the way you took him in. He was certainly tall, beefy, slightly sweaty from his active day. His shirt clung to him, sweat gathering at the hollow of his throat.

"What?" His tone was blunted, his manly brain quickly dismissed for his instilled beliefs. And how he detested people like you.

"Dunc, huh?" You pulled your glasses down the bridge of your nose, eyebrows pinched at the absurdity of his nickname.

"What about it?" He folded his arms, standing his ground against someone near half his size.

Your expression of confusion settled into a smirk, it was not often someone challenged your attitude. It was never possible when her darling twin was around. It was oddly refreshing, whoever this giant may be, she enjoyed it.

"Nothing, Dunc. Nothing at all."

Duncan had not seen the last of you. Since hearing you also attended King's Landing University, the Universe had pushed your paths to cross. He would consciously look for you in the sea of people around him, his head above the surface to easily seek out your silver hair. And there you were.

Walking in the midst of your peers, commanding their attention, their laughter. You stood out, no matter the volume of people surrounding you both. His eyes had found yours, the familiar smirk settling on your face once more.

"Oh, hey Dunc," you spoke, emphasising his name, worsening that knot he felt in his stomach. That he had only grown aware of since seeing you a few weeks ago.

"Hey, you." He hadn't meant for it to sound so... sexual. But it had been enough to stun you, to render you silent as you halted before him. You were expecting your name, paired with a sweet smile, a compliment on your neatly braided hair or shade of lip gloss. Not 'you'.

The students around you vanished, only he remained. His elbow near grazing your breasts as he passed you, paying little mind to how your mouth was agape at his confidence. How indifferent he was to you, where most were drowning you in compliments and affection. Whatever they deemed necessary to boost your already swollen ego. But Dunc? He would not entertain some rich brat.

"He's scarcely worth it, sweet sister." Aerion had brought you back to your plain of existence, Duncan now swallowed by the gathering of students. "Simply some poor fool, don't let him get to you."

Though he was not getting to you, not in the way Aerion thought. Aerion often fought your battles for you, would dirty his hands to keep yours perfectly polished. But how would you even begin to explain this was not Dunc being mean or belittling, but nestling beneath your skin with his... apathy.

You would show him. You would bend him to your will, as you had everyone else.

As if it were not degrading enough teaching kids to swing a racket and hit a ball, Duncan was approached by Egg's father, Maekar Targaryen, to teach him from his home instead. Perhaps the road leading to the tennis court caught in their tyres, damaging their sports cars and perfect shoes. Duncan thought of a hundred excuses, none being good enough for him to get the closest bus to their secluded manor, and walk the rest of the way.

He wore his firmest face walking through the gate, up the comically long driveway and towards the manor. It went as far as the eye could see, the kind of rich that made him physically sick. That made him hate his weakened posture as he walked around his own home.

"I thought it much more beneficial to continue the lessons here," Maekar declared, walking at a casual pace beside him toward the tennis court, "as I am offering you a higher rate."

"A higher— why?" Duncan halted, Maekar shortly after him.

Maekar sighed, a grimace on his face. "My darling daughter has expressed her interest in tennis, and who would I be to deny her? Aegon talks highly of you."

Of course, you were enacting your will against him. Duncan could only imagine how that plea had gone. No doubt stomping your feet until your daddy gave in. But Duncan was in no place to deny money, he was a student with a cottage to upkeep. On a part-time tennis instructor's wage.

"Refreshments are available in the small hut beside the tennis court, do help yourself." Maekar firmed, abandoning him before the tennis court, returning to the manor to continue his duties. Whatever afforded him this needless amount of money.

And there you sat, cosplaying a tennis player, as if you had any real interest in learning it. Pink shirt, pink visor, and the all too familiar short skirt. Hair in a high ponytail, sat kicking your legs as you scrolled through your phone. Egg would usually serve as his buffer, but this was a session entirely for you. To teach a rich brat how to hold a racket, just because he wouldn't give in to pampering her ego.

"Why the sudden interest in tennis?" He asked, voice loud enough to direct at you, his gaze settled on taking his racket from his bag.

You stood from the bench at the side of the court, strutting over to him with the racket placed upon your shoulder. "I need a sport. To keep me busy."

You stood close enough to smell the faint combination of sweat and deodorant, to feel the way his eyes burned into you. You had not yet figured out why you were so stunned by him; was it his height, the condescension in which he spoke at you with?

"Oh, is that it?" He remained unprovoked in your feigned innocence. Arms folded to bring forth every ounce of muscle, to instead provoke you.

You simply nodded, cheeks flushed in shock at his assurance. He commanded you with not a specific word or look, but his presence. His unwillingness to succumb to your ego, it was foreign to you. It drove you to the border of insanity.

"Up you get then." He huffed, gesturing you to stand with his hands. You abandoned your phone, left it where you sat, to hit a ball for an hour. You seldom thought through your wise ideas, and now it had come to bite you in the ass.

"Do you know how to stand?" He asked.

"Well, yes." You retorted, gripping the handle of your racket with both hands and giving a slight bend to your knees. "Is this right?"

"No."

You scoffed. "How could I possibly be stood wrong?"

Duncan sauntered over to you, his hands firmly placed on your shoulders. And you were completely his, the way he moved your body with little effort, to do exactly as he wanted you to do. You didn't claw at him, you didn't fight back, you did as instructed. The silver spoon had clattered against the ground.

"There." It came out as a whisper against the shell of your ear, echoing through your bones, burrowing into the pit of your stomach. Where desire lived. "Now swing."

His arms enveloped you, hands planted against your grip of the racket, guiding your swing. "Try that for me."

He removed his hands, eyes burning into your skin as you swung just as he taught you. His lack of response had given you enough affirmation that you did it correctly, and he stood across from you. Your throat felt dry, your mind wrapped in the lingering smell of the giant before you.

"We'll start by hitting the ball back and forth, without the net for now." He instructed.

You only nodded, your gaze following his toned arms as they grabbed a fluorescent green ball from his bag. His arms glistened in the sun, his sweat still prevalent against his stained shirt, clinging to his skin.

Duncan tried to be patient with you. He really did. But you whiffed every shot, you let the ball roll past you, you spent more time chasing after it than you did hitting it. And when you did finally hit it, it would slam against the floor with such force, before propelling into the air.

"This isn't volleyball. You're supposed to hit it to me." Duncan huffed, and it had been your final straw. The heat, the tedious physical exertion, the sound of your phone buzzing every few seconds against the bench. This was not for you.

"I give up." You exclaimed, throwing your racket onto the ground and heading for the hut. Duncan watched you stomp away from him, like a child, like a total brat. He was seething. That knot was being pulled taut in his stomach, making itself known.

At first, he let you sulk in the hut. For a few minutes. But it had been near twenty minutes, and you hadn't made any effort to leave. He wished Egg were here, the boy had given him far more pushback, in a much more tolerable way. Egg was curious, intelligent, interested enough in the sport to do as he was told. But you, this was all just some game to you. A method to exact your will.

He had followed you to the hut, pulling open the door to see you leant against the wall, nursing a can of water. Canned water. And of course, the hut was spacious. Held better technology than he had in the entirety of his small cottage, just for a seldom used drinks hut. It reeked of privilege.

"Come on, back to it." He pushed the door open further, to give you enough space to exit.

"No."

"What do you mean 'no'?"

"I mean... no. I don't want to do it." You declared, arms folded with your empty can now in the bin beside you. "I give up."

Duncan scoffed. "You quit because you're not good at it immediately?"

Ouch. But yes.

"Tennis isn't for me. I think I'll take up pilates or something."

Duncan laughed, he actually laughed at you. Whatever plan you had to bend him into submission had the opposite effect. And it felt like nails on a chalkboard, it has between your ribs. Refused to move.

"You think pilates is any easier?" He retorted. "Typical, wrapped in cotton wool, rich girl."

Your mouth dropped. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"You're a spoilt brat." Duncan had forgotten his place, it seemed. Stepping to a much smaller, much richer girl. On her property. Thank the Gods Aerion had not been here to witness the giant reprimand you.

He stood inches from you, looking down at your equally contorted face. The two of you dancing in both attack and defence, despite unfair physical advantage. You could feel his blunted breath on your face, his musk invading your lungs, your mind returning to the daze he left you in when he adjusted your stance earlier.

Perhaps your mind had its newfound emotions muddled up, your prefrontal cortex struggling to adjust to this recent development of experiences. Nobody had ever stood up to you, because your guard dog twin had always been the first to bite. Nobody had dared to call you spoilt, or a brat, because Aerion had always been the first to make them eat their words.

But now, Duncan. The giant having only recently shoved his foot into the door of your mind, too big to push out. He would challenge you. Both of you panting with vexation, in each other's faces. Your mind had twisted hate with lust, anger with pleasure, a dangerous mix that chased your need for control.

You decided you had little else to lose, so you threw yourself at him. For him to catch you, big arms encasing your legs around his waist. Your lips caught in his, breathing shallow as your back collided with the wall once more.

Duncan couldn't help himself. You were a brat, of course, but you were so pretty, in your short skirts and tight shirts, pouting because he wasn't at your feet with haste. And now that he was, you hadn't a clue what to do with it.

His hand, wrapped in your ponytail, gave him enough control of your head, angling it upward for him to trail down your neck. Lust took control of him like some teenage boy, not a man with morals and beliefs about ignorant rich assholes.

"Happy now?" He grunted against your lips. "Getting what you want, hm?"

Your moan faltered in your mouth, as he trailed down your chest. His teeth catching the zipper of your shirt, slowly pulling it down to gain access to more of you. He hated how soft your skin was, how good it smelt mixed with your sweat. Had he been depraved enough, he would have licked it from your skin had you asked so sweetly.

"Cat got your tongue?" He looked up at you, and you could only nod. Your eyebrows pinched together, your eyes glossed over, you were moments from tears.

"Gonna cry for me? What's wrong, princess?" He mocked you, and you felt bullied by his tone. Matched with his wet kisses over your breasts, your shirt now completely on the floor. "Not so stubborn now, hm?"

And you hated how much you loved it. How wet it had you, pressed against him.

"What do you want?" He halted, the pressure of his body against yours had given him chance to move his hands from holding you, attaching them to the sides of your face. His thumbs brushed under your eyes, the apples of your cheeks, where tears had now fallen.

"Want me to fuck that brattiness out of you?" He urged, his gruff voice had you pulsing between your legs. "Come on, use your words."

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

You whimpered. "Yes, please."

He hadn't resumed praising your body with his mouth, instead he looked down your body. Observed you, drank you in, took your for himself.

"This skirt," he pushed the fabric higher up your hips, to reveal your panties, a pristine colour match to your skirt. "So short."

His fingers hooked around the fabric shielding your heat from him, pulling it to one side to inspect you. His mouth salivated, like a hungry dog at the sound of the dinner bell. He couldn't quite believe this was happening.

"Fuck me." You cried. "Please."

Duncan was brought back to life with your words, finally looking up at you. Your wet eyes, quivering lip as you begged for him. For any and all of him. "Where are your manners, princess?"

"Please."

"There it is." His arms wrapped around your thighs to hoist you higher, allowing him to tug his shorts down. To free him from the fabric that separated you both. He was aching for action, having denied himself for so long, having more important matters to tend to. Labour you would never see in your life.

He buried himself within you, slowly to appease your whimpers as you took him. You weren't a virgin, why would you be? Every man you met was on their knees for you within minutes, it was the natural order of things. You grew used to having your pick of them. But not a man you knew compared to Duncan's size, the way he burrowed into you with little account for your size against his.

"Taking me so well." He grunted, building his rhythm as he thrusted into you against the wall. His hands secured you, one on your hip, the other on the back of your neck. "Feel good, princess?"

You nodded. "Feels so good, Dunc."

"Fuck." Duncan cursed your tightness, cursed the very sounds falling from your lips. He hated himself for this, but you had tormented him. Decided to set your sights on him because he refused to give into you.

He brought his lips to yours, to take the air from your lungs, to speak into your soul.

"Such a brat." He panted, relentless with his pace into you. Unforgiving with his force as your back jolted into the wall. "Need me to fuck it out of you, hm? Is that all it takes?"

He knew the answer, he didn't even need to hear you say it. It was so evident by your tears, the way your nails dug into his shoulders, the way your moans were not fully formed, and instead released as cracked whimpers. And your high had caught you by surprise, had taken hostage of your mind and body as you clenched around him.

Propelled by your release, Duncan hissed through his own, quickly retracting from you to spill onto the nearest thing; your skirt. It had stained the pink material, settling into the fabric where it pressed against your thigh.

"Dunc!" You exclaimed, looking down at the soaked fabric. "How am I going to explain that?"