Hii bby! If your requests are still open can I please request an aang x reader with curly hair and is a fashion designer m/ so she’s really girly and lovesss fashion and sewing so when she’s not busy helping the gaang save the world she’s in her boutique and one day a customer comes by and flirts with her while aang is right there and then aang steps up and makes it known that you’re together then once the guy leaves the shop and fucks you
☆Aang x Curly haired Fem!reader. ☆Word Count: 2.3K ☆CW: jealous Aang, Unprotected sex, Smut with a plot, P in V, clit play, nipple play, oral (fem recieving) Cowgirl and missionary positions. Established relationship. ☆AN: I'm so sorry it took me so long to get to this, I really was not in the mood to write smut till tonight lol. MDNI
Masterlist Aang masterlist
Jealousy
The little boutique sat tucked between a tea shop and a florist, its windows decorated with flowing fabrics and handmade dresses. Bolts of silk lined the walls, sketches covered one corner of the room, and the soft whir of a sewing machine filled the air. You sat cross-legged on the floor, curly hair tied up in a colorful scarf as you adjusted the hem of a client's gown.
Aang lounged nearby on a pile of cushions, absentmindedly feeding Momo pieces of fruit. The bell above the door chimed and a customer stepped inside.
"Welcome!" you called brightly.
The man looked around before his eyes landed on you. For a second, Aang didn't think much of it until the customer smiled and kept smiling.
"Oh wow," the man said. "So you're the designer everyone keeps talking about."
You stood and brushed loose threads from your skirt. "I hope they're saying nice things."
"The nicest."
Aang narrowed his eyes slightly as the customer wandered over to the counter while you pulled out a notebook.
"I was hoping you could make something custom," the man said.
"Of course."
"And maybe," he continued, leaning against the counter, "you could tell me your name too."
Aang's eyebrow twitched. You, being completely oblivious, smiled politely.
"It's Y/N."
"Pretty name." Aang sat up straighter as the customer continued. "Pretty designer."
Aang looked around the room as if someone else was seeing this. Nobody else seemed concerned, Katara was sorting fabric in the back and Sokka was asleep in a chair.
The customer smiled again. "So, Y/N, do you spend all day here?"
"Most days."
"That's a shame."
You blinked.
"Why?"
"Because someone as beautiful as you should be out having fun."
Aang nearly choked on air as you laughed awkwardly. "Oh."
The customer pressed on. "Maybe I could show you around town sometime."
Aang stood and walked over and the customer glanced at him.
"Oh, hey."
"Hi."
The customer pointed to you "Friend of yours?"
Before you could answer, Aang stepped beside you and wrapped an arm around your waist.
"Actually," Aang said cheerfully, "I'm her boyfriend."
The customer froze "Oh."
Aang smiled wider. "Yep. Very serious boyfriend."
From the back of the shop came a muffled snort from Ktara.
You elbowed Aang lightly. "Aang."
"What?” His expression was entirely innocent.
The customer cleared his throat. "Right. Well." The man shifted awkwardly. "Good to know."
"Glad we cleared that up," Aang said.
You buried your face in your hands and the man quickly changed the subject back to clothing measurements. After a few minutes, he paid for his order and practically sprinted out of the store.
The last customer left just as the sun began to set. Golden light spilled through the shop windows, turning the racks of dresses and fabrics amber.
"See you tomorrow!" Katara called.
"Goodnight," you replied.
Sokka pointed at Aang on his way out. "Try not to scare away any more customers."
"I didn't scare him."
The door shut behind them, finally, just you and Aang. You walked behind the counter, gathering measuring tapes and sketchbooks. Aang started helping too, he folded fabric, put away pins and stacked boxes. Every now and then you caught him looking at you.
"What?" you asked.
"Nothing," he said innocently.
"You keep staring."
A small smile appeared on his face. "I like looking at you."
Your cheeks warmed but you rolled your eyes affectionately and turned back to organizing thread spools. A moment later you felt arms wrap around your waist.
You jumped slightly. "Aang!"
"What?" His voice came from right behind your shoulder, you could hear the grin in it.
"We're cleaning."
"I am cleaning."
"You are hugging me…"
"I can do both," he stated, chin resting on top of your head. He pressed a kiss into your curls, murmuring something under his breath…. "It makes me happy."
You turned around inside his arms, his hands settling at your waist again.
"This is because of that customer."
"I didn't mean to," he said timidly.
You reached up and cupped his face, his embarrassment only made him more adorable.
"You know I wasn't interested in him."
"I know."
"But?" you question.
Aang hesitated. "But I like when people know you're with me. I mean, not because I own you or anything, or because you can't talk to whoever you want…" he trailed off.
"You love me," you state smugly.
“Yes I do,” he chuckles before peppering kisses across your face. You goggle as he catches your lips, slipping his tongue across your lower lip before slipping it in your mouth. He backed you into the sewing table that he cleared off earlier, placing his arms at upur sides to lift you onto the table.
His mouth was still connected to yours as his kisses became more desperate. You groaned against him as he pulled away to kiss your neck instead, hands trailing up your thigh under your dress. He lightly bit and sucked your neck making you moan in response. You held onto his shoulders as a moan escaped your lips. He chuckled at the sound, leaving a trail of hickeys down to your collar.
His fingers reached your undergarments and he tugged at them lightly, finding your clit through the already wet cloth. He rubbed it in circles while his free hand slid around to your back to take off your dress. He was slow with it, but he made sure to pull back from your neck to look at you. His fingers trailed down your spine and you bit your lip at the stimulation between your legs.
You pulled the dress off your shoulders and Aang's hand was already at the small of your back. You whined softly as he removed his hand from in between your thighs to cup your left breast instead. He smiled softly at the sound, but nevertheless he latched his mouth onto your right peak while massaging the other softly. You rested on one of your forearms and your other hand came up to hold his head at your chest.
He played with the other, rolling your hardened nipple between his fingertips. Your legs wrapped around his waist as you pulled him closer to you. You moaned softly as he squeezed your nipple and popped the other put his mouth.
“Lay back for me baby,” he said, eyes glossy and pleading. He dragged out the stool from under the table to sit on. You obliged, laying your back on the table as he unwrapped your legs from his waist to bring them up to his shoulders. He practically tore the barrier between him and your pussy off before taking you to his mouth.
You gasped as he took the first lick. Aang’s hands were everywhere, gentle but urgent, reverent and hungry all at once. A low moan rumbled from his throat as he tasted you for the first time that evening.
His lips brushed softly first, then his tongue dragged upward with aching slowness, a long, deep stroke that made every nerve in your body light up. You gasped again,louder this time, and arched slightly off the table. Aang smiled against you.
His hands slid up your thighs, thumbs pressing gently into soft skin as he did it again. Your breath hitch and fingers curl against the edge of the table. He didn’t rush. He took his time like he always did mostly because he enjoyed the breathy moans that you tried so hard to keep in.
With his mouth still working you, soft kisses, slow licks, teasing flicks of his tongue, he slid one hand down your thigh and gently teased two fingers at the edge of where he'd been focusing. Then he glanced up at you, eyes searching yours asking silent permission.
You nodded quickly, and one finger glided smoothly inside first, followed by a second with careful pressure. He curled them slightly, not pushing too deep yet just exploring. In alignment with the movement of his fingers, he began lightly sucking on your clit.
The rhythm he started was perfect. Each slow curl of his fingers inside you synced with the glide of his tongue, creating waves that built and crashed in your core. Your hips twitched upward chasing more contact. Aang hummed against you at your movement, one of your hands came up to cup your tit. Your hands glided over your breasts, thumbs brushing across sensitive skin.
“Oh Aang,” you moan.
Hunger flared again through Aang's chest. Without breaking rhythm with his fingers or mouth, Aang reached up with his free hand and gently covered yours on your breast.
Your inner muscles clenched around his fingers, pulsing in rhythmic waves, and your back arched sharply off the table with a gasp that turned into a breathless cry. Your hands flew from your breast to grip the edge of the wood, your thighs trembling around his shoulders.
Aang didn’t stop right away. He softened, his tongue slowing, turning gentle and he kept those careful curls inside you as you rode it out, his thumb moved in small circles over your clit.
Aang slowly pulled his fingers out and brought them to his lips without looking away from you. He stood as he licked each fingertip clean then lowered himself over you until he was hovering just above your face.
“You taste so good,” he murmured,“I’ve been dreaming about this all day.”
He brushed a curl from your forehead before leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth.
“So beautiful when you come apart for me.” His hands moved to untie his belt. The belt slipped free with a soft thud on the floor. Then his tunic came off next, in quick, impatient motions and soon he was bare-chested.
He shucked down pants and underclothes in one smooth motion until he stood there completely naked. Hard and wanting you.
Aang climbed back onto you, kneeling over your body and kissed you. One hand slid up your thigh while the other cupped your cheek.
“Tell me what you need,” he breathed against your lips.
“I need you,” you say breathlessly.
A cocky little smile crept into his face and without another word, Aang shifted down your body and guided himself where both of you wanted most.
The soft gasp you let out when he finally pressed against you made his pulse jump. Aang hovered there for a breathless moment, forehead resting against yours. He kissed your brow before he pushed forward, just the tip at first, and he watched your face as your mouth dropped open and your eyes fluttered closed.
His jaw clenched with restraint and he went painfully slow, letting you adjust. A low groan rumbled from his chest. Aang kissed you once more, deep and hungry this time, before pulling back just enough. Then he began to move.
His slow thrusts gradually picked up speed, each one smoother than the last as he found a rhythm. The table creaked faintly beneath you with every motion ofAang’s hips rolling strongly. At the same time , his hand slid down your body, over your stomach, then lower. His fingers brushed your clit again and immediately circled there gently.
“Oh Aang,” you moaned softly.
His hips stuttered for half a second at the sound. His fingers kept moving in soft circles turning into light presses just enough to make your back arch and toes curl. He alternated between your clit and your nipple for a while.
He leaned down between kisses to peck along your jawline, then under your ear. Aang breathed hotly against sensitive skin before whispering,“You feel so good…”
Another breathy moan left your lips as you clenched his shoulders. Aang started biting gently at your neck and kissing over collarbones. His fingers slowed just slightly but the rhythm of his hips stayed steady though.
In one smooth motion, Aang shifted, helping you up as he slid off the table and onto the stool. The wooden legs scraped softly against the floor as he helped you straddle him, your knees bracketing his hips, hands resting lightly on his shoulders for balance.
He guided his dick towards your entrance again slowly before pushing it in. He guided with gentle pressure from his thumbs on your hips and helped you find the rhythm.
Then as confidence grew between both your bodies, he added more motion: lifting slightly when you rose and helping stabilize when you lowered. All while watching your face and smiling faintly every time a soft gasp or sigh slipped out.
Aang rested his forehead against yours as you rocked back and forth and his breathing had deepened too.
Your back arches as a breathless cry escapes from your lips as the sudden orgasm crashes over you, waves of pure sensation ripping through every muscle. Your thighs trembled against his hips, fingers digging into his shoulders for something solid to hold on to. You felt him in you, spurts of cum rushing up your walls.
Aang didn’t move. He just held you, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist, pulling you against him as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.
The room fell into a hush just the sound of your breathing slowly calming, and Aang’s steady heartbeat under your cheek where you’d collapsed against him. He didn’t speak, just stroked your hair with one hand, fingertips twisting softly around the strands of curls. His other arm stayed locked around you. A few minutes passed in silence before he spoke up quietly, “I love you so much”
“I love you also,” you replied, a soft smile on your lips. “Now we have another mess to clean,” you add.
Aang chuckles as he pulls your body closer to him. “Just let me hold you right here baby doll.”
Disclaimer: I don't own Rights to any Characters mentioned nor do I consent to plagiarism of any kind. Thankyou ;) Tags: @strangeprincessblog @cinnamongirlkisses @amethyst09 @skyavyel @butterflygirlblogg @rubyyworld @uchihabbynic
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
In the new avatar movie Aang wears fur which comes as a shock to many including myself at least at first but looking more into the design I don’t think it’s ooc or going against his culture. The texture is thinner and something “smaller” if that makes sense while the water tribes’ is more brawler and puffier. More than likely this is Appa’s fur being utilize (which we’ve seen in the series) to replicated water tribe attire.
Also It was never stated in the series that Aang doesn’t wear fur pretty sure that’s fandom thing..
A creation Aang had manifested from his stress had been running rampant. It wasn't easy being the Avatar, but no one expected things like this to happen. No one even knew things like this could happen. It was taking a toll on the group and everyone who may have been involved, and Aang felt horrible. He needed to get this under control but he didn't know what this was or how to begin stopping it.
Aang’s breath came ragged, the ground beneath him still humming with the echo of what he’d conjured and defeated. What looked to be ashy footprints littered the dirt like fragments of a nightmare refusing to fade.
Katara touched his sleeve. “Hey.” No judgment, just the calm of her voice like honey melting in warm water. “You okay?” she asks. Aang gives a half smile and nods.
“Come, sit with me,” she says. They climbed a hill a little away from camp, where the wind shared peaceful secrets with the rustling leaves. Aang folded his legs. Katara settled across from him, mirroring his posture.
“We’re going to find a way to stop this,” She reassured. “No matter how long it takes.”
Aang stared at his hands. “I don’t even know what ‘this’ is. What if…what if there is no way to stop this, Katara?” He sounded almost broken—like he was scared.
“Listen to me,” She reached forward, extending her hand to him, close enough for him to take if he wanted, far enough to let him choose. “You’re carrying the weight of the Avatar, and it’s getting you worked up, spilling over in ways no one can begin to understand yet. But we can try to understand it. Start with your breathing.”
“This is silly,” he chuckles dismissively.
“Aang,” She warns and he straightens up, clearing his throat.
He followed her instructions—eyes closed, breath in, hold, breath out—until the tremor in his chest evened.
“Now,” Katara said softly, “I want you to think of something that calms you. Someplace safe. Someone who makes you feel safe.”
Aang’s eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed as he took another deep breath. The wind suddenly stilled, and his mind went to warmth: the feel of Appa’s fur under his palms, the sound of his friends' laughter, the moonlight on water, the steadiness that always came when Katara stood near. A smile tugged at his lips, timid and honest, and seeing Aang smile made Katara smile.
Suddenly the lake’s surface rippled. Aang felt the shift—his eyes opened as he reached out to Katara, almost as if he were trying to shield her from whatever trouble they may encounter. Then, he saw it. A figure stood at the water’s edge, haloed in mist.
He breathed a shuddering breath, as if it almost hurt to do so. Aang stood—Katara didn’t miss a beat and stood too. They motioned closer, carefully—like little birds letting the wind push them forward while remaining prepared to stop instantly.
“H-hello?” Aang called out. No answer. The figure just stood there with its head down. Aang looked at Katara and she shrugged, prompting him to move forward. As they stepped closer, leaves crunched under their feet, making them both halt, eyes widening.
The figure looked up, sending a shiver down both of their spines. She looked like Katara, and didn’t. The same sure stance, the same quiet gravity and confidence—but her face was veiled and painted red, crimson lips bright as a wound. A reed hat shadowed her eyes, and the long sash at her waist stirred as if a tide moved through it. She was the Painted Lady, the river spirit from hushed stories—compassion wrapped in mystery.
Katara’s breath caught. “Aang… did you—?”
“I didn’t mean to.” He swallowed, staring at the apparition he’d pulled from the part of himself that reached for comfort. “I-I was thinking of you, how you make me feel….” He winced. “But she’s—I don’t know.” He looked back at the Painted Lady, his throat feeling dry and cheeks burning.
The Painted Lady tilted her head, the gesture so achingly familiar it made Aang’s chest ache. She carefully walked across the lake before stopping in the grass. “Okay, maybe this is good.”
“How is this good?” Aang whispered.
“Because this tells us something.” Katara’s voice was steady despite Aang’s panicking. “Your stress made those violent creatures—shapes without a purpose. But when you remained calm, you gave your apparition a story to try on.” She nodded toward the Painted Lady.
Aang’s gaze softened. “I didn’t choose her on purpose.” He murmured.
“Not with your head,” Katara said gently. “But with your heart.” She smiled.
Aang looked down, twiddling his thumbs. “If I can make these things appear by accident, what stops them from hurting people?”
Katara motioned for him to sit beside her—their shoulders touching. “Intention. Practice. We can treat this like any other form of bending—only it’s inside you.” She pointed to the Painted Lady, who waited with patient stillness on the grass. “Let’s try something. Ask her to come sit with us.”
Aang hesitated, then spoke, voice as careful as if he were holding fine china. “Please… sit with us.”
The Painted Lady stalked gracefully towards them, before sitting right in front of Aang—her hands resting in her lap. The proximity makes his cheeks flush as he scoots back a bit. Katara notices and giggles. “Good. Now breathe, and tell her how you want her to exist.”
“How I want her to exist?” Aang repeats. “I-I don't know,” he stutters.
“Aang relax,” Katara coos.
“This is just…all so stressful,” He breathes, holding his head in his hands. Katara sighs as she rubs his back.
The Painted Lady peers up at him, her eyes intense and filled with something. Katara’s gaze shifts to hers and they stare at each other for a minute—they hold that gaze longer, like they were trying to telepathically tell each other something and that's when Katara notices the Painted Lady smirk just a bit. She returns it, her hand still soothing Aang. Silently they plot through their eyes and before you know it Katara is motioning for the Painted Lady to come closer.
Now seated between his legs was Katara—or a version of Katara he had manifested. Aang removes his hands from his face, looks up and jolts slightly. “Oh…hey,” he says in a shaky breath—almost shy.
She doesn't respond, just looks at Katara almost as if she's asking her for permission to touch Aang. Katara nods and the Painted Lady carefully and teasingly smoothes her hands up Aang’s thighs. They're muscular and she could feel him tensing under her touch.
“What are you doing?” He breathes.
“Shh, just helping you relax,” Katara interjects. Her hands move to cup his face, making him look at her.
“We’re out in the open,” He bites back a whine. He tries to check his surroundings, but Katara gently snaps his head back to her gaze.
“No one is coming up here,” Katara says sure of herself.
The Painted Lady worked her way up to the hem of his pants, tugging slightly. Katara sneakily slid behind him—her chest pressed firmly against his back.
His heart rate picks up—if you listened closely you could probably hear it beating against his ribcage. Katara's voice was a bit deeper, still soothing but this tone made his cock twitch. He bit his bottom lip, trying, and failing to suppress a moan as his pants slowly were pulled off. The cool air and gentle breeze against his cock made him hunch over slightly—his lips parted and he let out a shaky whimper. Katara couldn't help but smirk deviously. He was already leaking precum, the tip an angry red. The Painted Lady’s hands find purchase on Aang’s thighs again.
His hips buck upward slightly and Katara gently grabs his throat and squeezes. “Hold still,” she purrs in his ear—a breathy whine escapes his lips as his fingers dig into the earth beneath him. He pants softly even though nothing has happened…pathetic. Katara nods towards the Painted Lady who needs no further instruction before wrapping her hands around his cock. He lets out a deep groan that rumbles in his chest, his head falls back and rolls against Katara's shoulder, making her squeeze his throat tighter.
Aang’s breathing was labored as he felt the Painted Lady’s dainty hand grip his cock, pumping painstakingly slow. He needed more, so much more that he bucked his hips again to chase the feeling.
A sudden sharp slap was planted on his thigh, making him jolt and wince slightly. He was shocked—Katara was shocked as they looked down at the Painted Lady. “Stay still,” she growled. Aang’s ears burned, his whole face was a red hue as the Painted Lady stared at him intensely, burning a hole through his head. Katara’s hands moved from his throat down to his wrist, pinning them behind his back.
Katara’s lips grazed his earlobe gently. “You heard her, stay still,” Katara whispers before biting his ear.
“Yes ma’am,” Aang whimpers. The Painted Lady looks up at him with a fierce gaze—she pulls her hands away just for a moment before crudely spitting on his cock, making him moan deeply. Her hands are back on him in seconds, pumping his thick length and watching how the foreskin pulls back to reveal his leaky tip.
He’s a mess, it’s too much. The way the Painted Lady’s wrist flicked while stroking him and how Katara kissed his jaw and neck was driving him insane. He felt hot all over—like he was about to explode as he moaned uncontrollably. She starts pumping him faster, her spit and his precum making it so easy for her hand to work him.
“Feels good?” Katara coos. “You look so pretty like this,” she teases. Aang almost loses it as he leans back into Katara’s touch—his hands straining against hers to break free. All he could do was whimper softly as his lips stay parted.
Aang starts panting heavily—he can feel his core tightening, legs trembling as his cock twitches in her hands. “Look at you, doing so good for the both of us,” Katara whispers.
“I’m-,” he groans deeply as his whole body tenses. Before he can even get the words out, his cum paints his lower abdomen and his lap—covering the Painted Lady’s hand in thick ropes.
“You came already?” Katara taunts. Aang’s whole face turns bright red at the sudden teasinging. He didn’t expect it himself as he looked down at the mess. He closed his eyes while now fully resting on Katara, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he started to come down from the intense orgasm.
He suddenly lets out the most pathetic whiny gasp as he feels hands on his softening cock again. His eyes shoot open and he sees the Painted Lady gently massaging his balls—he can’t take it, his hands break free from Katara’s grasp as he places his hand over the Painted Lady’s, looking at her with pleading eyes. She looks back at him for a moment before pulling her hands away completely. He lets out a soft sigh—which is quickly replaced by a sharp inhale. His hand gently touches his cheek where a red handprint is already forming.
Aang’s gaze snaps back to the Painted Lady. “Did you just slap me?” he asks while holding his cheek. She doesn’t answer. Aang turns to Katara who’s trying her best to hold back a laugh. He turns back to the Painted Lady—her expression still the same.
“I said…stay still,” she says firmly—before breaking out into a wolfish grin. Her hands find themselves back on his softened length, gripping him gently as she starts milking him for whatever he’s got left.
He pleads. “Please,” he whimpers softly as his face scrunches in pleasure despite himself—his cock harden again and standing at full attention.
Katara gently turns Aang’s face to meet hers, pressing a tender kiss to his lips to distract him from everything—cupping his face as her thumb gently caresses his cheek, suddenly he is not too worried about having been slapped. The kiss is slow, their lips moving against each others like a comforting embrace.
Katara pulls back, a string of saliva connecting them. “Do you want us to stop?” she asks softly.
“Yes!” Aang nearly cried out. He panted softly before calming down. “No…I don’t know,” he whined and shifted slightly.
Aang was overwhelmed and dazed—he liked her hands on him, loved it even, but it was too much. The way she said nothing, looked down at him like he was nothing made something in him stir—something he couldn’t describe.
“Tell us what you want?” Katara says. She kisses his head gently—her lips lingering before pulling away —and he melts into her touch. “We’re here for you,” she coos.
The stark contrast between the two women was driving him insane. Katara was familiar, home—and the painted lady was something from a wild fantasy. Aang let out a soft whimper he didn’t know he was holding, making the painted lady chuckle to herself.
“W-what’s funny?” Aang managed to get out, trying to sound stern but failing miserably. The painted lady's eyes met his and he immediately shrank. Her gaze was intense and piercing, making his cock twitch in her hands.
He looked like he was about to cry, a soft pink hue covering his entire body—yet he dared to test her. It was bold really.
“Is that a real question?” She retorts and he bites his tongue—not know if he should even answer, fearing he might be slapped again. But deep down…he craved that thrill.
He’s so close to coming again, his entire body coiled tight with pleasure. “Fuck,” he whines and the Painted Lady raises a brow, pumping him faster. “Please,” he lets out a loud choked sob as his balls draw tight. His cock swelling as he feels his second orgasm about to rip through him.
“Use your words Aang, what do you want?” Katara murmured against his ear.
“I need to cum!” He cries out—his face covered in hot tears as he breathes heavily. His body twists one way and then the other as he tries to break free of their grasp, but based on his efforts you’d think he actually liked being overpowered and overstimulated.
Katara leans down, darting out her tongue to lick the tears on his cheek before kissing him—making him taste how pathetic he is. He cries harder, his eyes rolling back as he feels his orgasm about to rip through him. It builds and builds, and then—nothing. His eyes meet the Painted Lady’s, she’s smirking up at him as she pulls her hands away from his aching cock.
He sniffles softly before speaking. “I was c-close,”
“You don’t cum unless we say so from here on out,” she says as she stands, towering over him. His cock jumps and she smirks down at him again before removing her garments. His eyes flutter, it’s like looking at Katara but somehow different. His eyes drift up and down her body, just taking in the sight. Katara stands and follows suit, pulling her clothes off and tossing them onto the grass beside him.
“Clothes off. Now,” Katara commands and Aang scrambles to get the rest of his clothes off. “Good boy,” she praises. His cock is hard and pulsing as his big grey eyes dart between the two women towering over him. They look like Amazonian Goddesses. His Amazonian Goddesses.
He groans, wrapping his hand around his cock and giving it a firm squeeze.
The Painted Lady tilts her head ever so slightly. “Keep your hands where we can see them,” she says.
He looks off to the side before back at her. “They are where you can see them,” he says like a smartass.
“Are you getting fresh with me?” she asks.
“I think he is,” Katara adds.
Aang shakes his head. “No-,”
“I think someone should shut him up,” Katara smirks. They nod simultaneously before the Painted Lady walks over and stoops down, hovering just above Aang’s face. Her pussy was inches from his face, he could just reach out and grab her—slamming her hips onto his face and devouring her pussy, but he knew he’d be in more trouble by doing so.
She slowly sinks down, straddling his face. She lets out a soft moan as his mouth immediately latches onto her clit. He eats her out like a starved man, lapping at her juices like she’s the only bit of water in a drought. “Mmph,” he moans, the vibration making her keel over—her hands landing on his pecs and squeezing subtly.
Katara watches in awe as her man devours a woman that looks exactly like her, sounds like her, and talks like her. The visual was beyond erotic and it made something in her stir. Without thinking, Katara walks over to them. She watches as the Painted Lady’s face scrunches in pleasure as Aang’s tongue flattens and licks through her folds. Katara carefully straddles Aang’s hips, grabbing the base of his cock—gently sliding it between her folds and getting it wet. Aang whines softly and the Painted Lady digs her nails into his pecs.
Katara lifts her hips before sinking down onto Aang’s length—no matter how many times they do it, she can never get over the stretch. As she slowly sank down onto his thick, throbbing cock, he lets out a muffled groan. The sensation is overwhelming—her tight pussy stretching to accommodate his massive size. Aang’s tongue moves faster around the Painted Lady's clit automatically, making her gasp loudly. Katara takes this as an opportunity—she grabs the back of the Painted Lady's neck and pulls her in for a deep and breathless kiss. They share a moan that's muffed by the other as Katara starts moving, lifting and dropping her hips onto Aang's length. They pull away, smiling at each other with such a devious glint in their eyes. Katara can’t help but reach out, grabbing a handful of the Painted Lady’s tits and squeezing them gently—she rolls the hardened nipples between her fingers as she continues to bounce on Aang.
Aang was in bliss. Two pretty ladies above him—using him for their pleasure, and he didn't mind one bit. Subconsciously his hands come up to grip the Painted Lady's thighs, pulling her flush against his face, his nose nudging her clit and making her gasp loudly. She grinds her hip into him—matching his pace as his tongue moves vigorously through her folds. In seconds she’s coming undone and the sound of her breathless moans fills his head, going straight to his cock. He twitches.
The Painted Lady rolls off of Aang, legs trembling as she gradually comes down from her orgasm. Without wasting time she brings her lips to his and kisses him roughly, tasting herself on him. Her tongue tangles with his and they share one of the sloppiest kisses he’s ever had.
She pulls back, gripping his chin. “Open,” she commands softly and he obeys—instantly, sticking his tongue out. With that, she purses her lips and spits directly in his mouth. “Swallow,” she growls as she closes his mouth. Aang swallows, eyes gleaming with newfound interest.
The Painted Lady moves closer to Katara—her hands resting on her waist as she helps her bounce on Aang’s cock. They’re chasing her orgasm together and they didn’t even know it.
“Look at that. Taking him so well,” The Painted Lady whispers to Katara. Aang’s eyes widen as they then lean in and kiss each other—lips moving against one another like it was something familiar. With a deep groan he grips Katara’s hips—his large hands covering the Painted Lady’s as he stills their movements, his orgasm hitting him like a truck. His load is thick, painting the inside of her walls in a matter of seconds as she comes undone too with a soft cry.
Katara slowly pulls herself off of him—the way his cum leaks out of her is almost pornographic. Aang drapes one arm over his face, trying to calm himself.
“Holy fuck,” he suddenly groans out as his fist clench. The feeling of two warm tongues licking his length clean sends him into a psychosis. His hand immediately reaches out—grabbing a fist full of hair, tugging it gently. “Fuck, stop…please,” he begs, but they just stare up at him—their tongues moving simultaneously up and down his cock. Their eyes lock and his lips part to speak but only a small whimper escapes him.
The Painted Lady is kissing up his shaft while Katara sucks one of his balls into her mouth. “Please, I can’t take anymore,” he says as his grip tightens.
“Too much?” The Painted Lady teases.
Aang can only nod as he looks down at them through teary eyes. “I-I can’t,” he manages.
“Too bad,” Katara adds. He tosses his head back into the grass with a defeated groan. They go back to torturing his spent cock—suckling the head and massaging his balls. The Painted Lady’s hand smoothes down Katara’s back as she watches her take his whole length to the back of her throat.
“Nice and easy,” The Painted Lady coos as her fingers find Katara’s clit, circling it slowly—she runs her slender fingers through her folds, teasing her entrance before pushing it inside.
Aang’s hips buck and he cums with a strained cry, surprising Katara as she swallows it. He’s all flushed, body aching, and head spinning. The Painted Lady’s fingers never stop working their way in and out of Katara, making her pull off of Aang as she cums again with a soft moan. The Painted Lady pulls her fingers from Katara, admiring how they’re covered in her juices. She brings her fingers to Aang’s lips and he opens eagerly, licking them clean—making sure he gets in between the digits.
They all lay back in the grass, naked the same way they entered this world. “Now do you know how you want her to exist?” Katara smirks.
In the new avatar movie Aang wears fur which comes as a shock to many including myself at least at first but looking more into the design I don’t think it’s ooc or going against his culture. The texture is thinner and something “smaller” if that makes sense while the water tribes’ is more brawler and puffier. More than likely this is Appa’s fur being utilize (which we’ve seen in the series) to replicated water tribe attire.
Also It was never stated in the series that Aang doesn’t wear fur pretty sure that’s fandom thing..
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
A creation Aang had manifested from his stress had been running rampant. It wasn't easy being the Avatar, but no one expected things like this to happen. No one even knew things like this could happen. It was taking a toll on the group and everyone who may have been involved, and Aang felt horrible. He needed to get this under control but he didn't know what this was or how to begin stopping it.
Aang’s breath came ragged, the ground beneath him still humming with the echo of what he’d conjured and defeated. What looked to be ashy footprints littered the dirt like fragments of a nightmare refusing to fade.
Katara touched his sleeve. “Hey.” No judgment, just the calm of her voice like honey melting in warm water. “You okay?” she asks. Aang gives a half smile and nods.
“Come, sit with me,” she says. They climbed a hill a little away from camp, where the wind shared peaceful secrets with the rustling leaves. Aang folded his legs. Katara settled across from him, mirroring his posture.
“We’re going to find a way to stop this,” She reassured. “No matter how long it takes.”
Aang stared at his hands. “I don’t even know what ‘this’ is. What if…what if there is no way to stop this, Katara?” He sounded almost broken—like he was scared.
“Listen to me,” She reached forward, extending her hand to him, close enough for him to take if he wanted, far enough to let him choose. “You’re carrying the weight of the Avatar, and it’s getting you worked up, spilling over in ways no one can begin to understand yet. But we can try to understand it. Start with your breathing.”
“This is silly,” he chuckles dismissively.
“Aang,” She warns and he straightens up, clearing his throat.
He followed her instructions—eyes closed, breath in, hold, breath out—until the tremor in his chest evened.
“Now,” Katara said softly, “I want you to think of something that calms you. Someplace safe. Someone who makes you feel safe.”
Aang’s eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed as he took another deep breath. The wind suddenly stilled, and his mind went to warmth: the feel of Appa’s fur under his palms, the sound of his friends' laughter, the moonlight on water, the steadiness that always came when Katara stood near. A smile tugged at his lips, timid and honest, and seeing Aang smile made Katara smile.
Suddenly the lake’s surface rippled. Aang felt the shift—his eyes opened as he reached out to Katara, almost as if he were trying to shield her from whatever trouble they may encounter. Then, he saw it. A figure stood at the water’s edge, haloed in mist.
He breathed a shuddering breath, as if it almost hurt to do so. Aang stood—Katara didn’t miss a beat and stood too. They motioned closer, carefully—like little birds letting the wind push them forward while remaining prepared to stop instantly.
“H-hello?” Aang called out. No answer. The figure just stood there with its head down. Aang looked at Katara and she shrugged, prompting him to move forward. As they stepped closer, leaves crunched under their feet, making them both halt, eyes widening.
The figure looked up, sending a shiver down both of their spines. She looked like Katara, and didn’t. The same sure stance, the same quiet gravity and confidence—but her face was veiled and painted red, crimson lips bright as a wound. A reed hat shadowed her eyes, and the long sash at her waist stirred as if a tide moved through it. She was the Painted Lady, the river spirit from hushed stories—compassion wrapped in mystery.
Katara’s breath caught. “Aang… did you—?”
“I didn’t mean to.” He swallowed, staring at the apparition he’d pulled from the part of himself that reached for comfort. “I-I was thinking of you, how you make me feel….” He winced. “But she’s—I don’t know.” He looked back at the Painted Lady, his throat feeling dry and cheeks burning.
The Painted Lady tilted her head, the gesture so achingly familiar it made Aang’s chest ache. She carefully walked across the lake before stopping in the grass. “Okay, maybe this is good.”
“How is this good?” Aang whispered.
“Because this tells us something.” Katara’s voice was steady despite Aang’s panicking. “Your stress made those violent creatures—shapes without a purpose. But when you remained calm, you gave your apparition a story to try on.” She nodded toward the Painted Lady.
Aang’s gaze softened. “I didn’t choose her on purpose.” He murmured.
“Not with your head,” Katara said gently. “But with your heart.” She smiled.
Aang looked down, twiddling his thumbs. “If I can make these things appear by accident, what stops them from hurting people?”
Katara motioned for him to sit beside her—their shoulders touching. “Intention. Practice. We can treat this like any other form of bending—only it’s inside you.” She pointed to the Painted Lady, who waited with patient stillness on the grass. “Let’s try something. Ask her to come sit with us.”
Aang hesitated, then spoke, voice as careful as if he were holding fine china. “Please… sit with us.”
The Painted Lady stalked gracefully towards them, before sitting right in front of Aang—her hands resting in her lap. The proximity makes his cheeks flush as he scoots back a bit. Katara notices and giggles. “Good. Now breathe, and tell her how you want her to exist.”
“How I want her to exist?” Aang repeats. “I-I don't know,” he stutters.
“Aang relax,” Katara coos.
“This is just…all so stressful,” He breathes, holding his head in his hands. Katara sighs as she rubs his back.
The Painted Lady peers up at him, her eyes intense and filled with something. Katara’s gaze shifts to hers and they stare at each other for a minute—they hold that gaze longer, like they were trying to telepathically tell each other something and that's when Katara notices the Painted Lady smirk just a bit. She returns it, her hand still soothing Aang. Silently they plot through their eyes and before you know it Katara is motioning for the Painted Lady to come closer.
Now seated between his legs was Katara—or a version of Katara he had manifested. Aang removes his hands from his face, looks up and jolts slightly. “Oh…hey,” he says in a shaky breath—almost shy.
She doesn't respond, just looks at Katara almost as if she's asking her for permission to touch Aang. Katara nods and the Painted Lady carefully and teasingly smoothes her hands up Aang’s thighs. They're muscular and she could feel him tensing under her touch.
“What are you doing?” He breathes.
“Shh, just helping you relax,” Katara interjects. Her hands move to cup his face, making him look at her.
“We’re out in the open,” He bites back a whine. He tries to check his surroundings, but Katara gently snaps his head back to her gaze.
“No one is coming up here,” Katara says sure of herself.
The Painted Lady worked her way up to the hem of his pants, tugging slightly. Katara sneakily slid behind him—her chest pressed firmly against his back.
His heart rate picks up—if you listened closely you could probably hear it beating against his ribcage. Katara's voice was a bit deeper, still soothing but this tone made his cock twitch. He bit his bottom lip, trying, and failing to suppress a moan as his pants slowly were pulled off. The cool air and gentle breeze against his cock made him hunch over slightly—his lips parted and he let out a shaky whimper. Katara couldn't help but smirk deviously. He was already leaking precum, the tip an angry red. The Painted Lady’s hands find purchase on Aang’s thighs again.
His hips buck upward slightly and Katara gently grabs his throat and squeezes. “Hold still,” she purrs in his ear—a breathy whine escapes his lips as his fingers dig into the earth beneath him. He pants softly even though nothing has happened…pathetic. Katara nods towards the Painted Lady who needs no further instruction before wrapping her hands around his cock. He lets out a deep groan that rumbles in his chest, his head falls back and rolls against Katara's shoulder, making her squeeze his throat tighter.
Aang’s breathing was labored as he felt the Painted Lady’s dainty hand grip his cock, pumping painstakingly slow. He needed more, so much more that he bucked his hips again to chase the feeling.
A sudden sharp slap was planted on his thigh, making him jolt and wince slightly. He was shocked—Katara was shocked as they looked down at the Painted Lady. “Stay still,” she growled. Aang’s ears burned, his whole face was a red hue as the Painted Lady stared at him intensely, burning a hole through his head. Katara’s hands moved from his throat down to his wrist, pinning them behind his back.
Katara’s lips grazed his earlobe gently. “You heard her, stay still,” Katara whispers before biting his ear.
“Yes ma’am,” Aang whimpers. The Painted Lady looks up at him with a fierce gaze—she pulls her hands away just for a moment before crudely spitting on his cock, making him moan deeply. Her hands are back on him in seconds, pumping his thick length and watching how the foreskin pulls back to reveal his leaky tip.
He’s a mess, it’s too much. The way the Painted Lady’s wrist flicked while stroking him and how Katara kissed his jaw and neck was driving him insane. He felt hot all over—like he was about to explode as he moaned uncontrollably. She starts pumping him faster, her spit and his precum making it so easy for her hand to work him.
“Feels good?” Katara coos. “You look so pretty like this,” she teases. Aang almost loses it as he leans back into Katara’s touch—his hands straining against hers to break free. All he could do was whimper softly as his lips stay parted.
Aang starts panting heavily—he can feel his core tightening, legs trembling as his cock twitches in her hands. “Look at you, doing so good for the both of us,” Katara whispers.
“I’m-,” he groans deeply as his whole body tenses. Before he can even get the words out, his cum paints his lower abdomen and his lap—covering the Painted Lady’s hand in thick ropes.
“You came already?” Katara taunts. Aang’s whole face turns bright red at the sudden teasinging. He didn’t expect it himself as he looked down at the mess. He closed his eyes while now fully resting on Katara, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he started to come down from the intense orgasm.
He suddenly lets out the most pathetic whiny gasp as he feels hands on his softening cock again. His eyes shoot open and he sees the Painted Lady gently massaging his balls—he can’t take it, his hands break free from Katara’s grasp as he places his hand over the Painted Lady’s, looking at her with pleading eyes. She looks back at him for a moment before pulling her hands away completely. He lets out a soft sigh—which is quickly replaced by a sharp inhale. His hand gently touches his cheek where a red handprint is already forming.
Aang’s gaze snaps back to the Painted Lady. “Did you just slap me?” he asks while holding his cheek. She doesn’t answer. Aang turns to Katara who’s trying her best to hold back a laugh. He turns back to the Painted Lady—her expression still the same.
“I said…stay still,” she says firmly—before breaking out into a wolfish grin. Her hands find themselves back on his softened length, gripping him gently as she starts milking him for whatever he’s got left.
He pleads. “Please,” he whimpers softly as his face scrunches in pleasure despite himself—his cock harden again and standing at full attention.
Katara gently turns Aang’s face to meet hers, pressing a tender kiss to his lips to distract him from everything—cupping his face as her thumb gently caresses his cheek, suddenly he is not too worried about having been slapped. The kiss is slow, their lips moving against each others like a comforting embrace.
Katara pulls back, a string of saliva connecting them. “Do you want us to stop?” she asks softly.
“Yes!” Aang nearly cried out. He panted softly before calming down. “No…I don’t know,” he whined and shifted slightly.
Aang was overwhelmed and dazed—he liked her hands on him, loved it even, but it was too much. The way she said nothing, looked down at him like he was nothing made something in him stir—something he couldn’t describe.
“Tell us what you want?” Katara says. She kisses his head gently—her lips lingering before pulling away —and he melts into her touch. “We’re here for you,” she coos.
The stark contrast between the two women was driving him insane. Katara was familiar, home—and the painted lady was something from a wild fantasy. Aang let out a soft whimper he didn’t know he was holding, making the painted lady chuckle to herself.
“W-what’s funny?” Aang managed to get out, trying to sound stern but failing miserably. The painted lady's eyes met his and he immediately shrank. Her gaze was intense and piercing, making his cock twitch in her hands.
He looked like he was about to cry, a soft pink hue covering his entire body—yet he dared to test her. It was bold really.
“Is that a real question?” She retorts and he bites his tongue—not know if he should even answer, fearing he might be slapped again. But deep down…he craved that thrill.
He’s so close to coming again, his entire body coiled tight with pleasure. “Fuck,” he whines and the Painted Lady raises a brow, pumping him faster. “Please,” he lets out a loud choked sob as his balls draw tight. His cock swelling as he feels his second orgasm about to rip through him.
“Use your words Aang, what do you want?” Katara murmured against his ear.
“I need to cum!” He cries out—his face covered in hot tears as he breathes heavily. His body twists one way and then the other as he tries to break free of their grasp, but based on his efforts you’d think he actually liked being overpowered and overstimulated.
Katara leans down, darting out her tongue to lick the tears on his cheek before kissing him—making him taste how pathetic he is. He cries harder, his eyes rolling back as he feels his orgasm about to rip through him. It builds and builds, and then—nothing. His eyes meet the Painted Lady’s, she’s smirking up at him as she pulls her hands away from his aching cock.
He sniffles softly before speaking. “I was c-close,”
“You don’t cum unless we say so from here on out,” she says as she stands, towering over him. His cock jumps and she smirks down at him again before removing her garments. His eyes flutter, it’s like looking at Katara but somehow different. His eyes drift up and down her body, just taking in the sight. Katara stands and follows suit, pulling her clothes off and tossing them onto the grass beside him.
“Clothes off. Now,” Katara commands and Aang scrambles to get the rest of his clothes off. “Good boy,” she praises. His cock is hard and pulsing as his big grey eyes dart between the two women towering over him. They look like Amazonian Goddesses. His Amazonian Goddesses.
He groans, wrapping his hand around his cock and giving it a firm squeeze.
The Painted Lady tilts her head ever so slightly. “Keep your hands where we can see them,” she says.
He looks off to the side before back at her. “They are where you can see them,” he says like a smartass.
“Are you getting fresh with me?” she asks.
“I think he is,” Katara adds.
Aang shakes his head. “No-,”
“I think someone should shut him up,” Katara smirks. They nod simultaneously before the Painted Lady walks over and stoops down, hovering just above Aang’s face. Her pussy was inches from his face, he could just reach out and grab her—slamming her hips onto his face and devouring her pussy, but he knew he’d be in more trouble by doing so.
She slowly sinks down, straddling his face. She lets out a soft moan as his mouth immediately latches onto her clit. He eats her out like a starved man, lapping at her juices like she’s the only bit of water in a drought. “Mmph,” he moans, the vibration making her keel over—her hands landing on his pecs and squeezing subtly.
Katara watches in awe as her man devours a woman that looks exactly like her, sounds like her, and talks like her. The visual was beyond erotic and it made something in her stir. Without thinking, Katara walks over to them. She watches as the Painted Lady’s face scrunches in pleasure as Aang’s tongue flattens and licks through her folds. Katara carefully straddles Aang’s hips, grabbing the base of his cock—gently sliding it between her folds and getting it wet. Aang whines softly and the Painted Lady digs her nails into his pecs.
Katara lifts her hips before sinking down onto Aang’s length—no matter how many times they do it, she can never get over the stretch. As she slowly sank down onto his thick, throbbing cock, he lets out a muffled groan. The sensation is overwhelming—her tight pussy stretching to accommodate his massive size. Aang’s tongue moves faster around the Painted Lady's clit automatically, making her gasp loudly. Katara takes this as an opportunity—she grabs the back of the Painted Lady's neck and pulls her in for a deep and breathless kiss. They share a moan that's muffed by the other as Katara starts moving, lifting and dropping her hips onto Aang's length. They pull away, smiling at each other with such a devious glint in their eyes. Katara can’t help but reach out, grabbing a handful of the Painted Lady’s tits and squeezing them gently—she rolls the hardened nipples between her fingers as she continues to bounce on Aang.
Aang was in bliss. Two pretty ladies above him—using him for their pleasure, and he didn't mind one bit. Subconsciously his hands come up to grip the Painted Lady's thighs, pulling her flush against his face, his nose nudging her clit and making her gasp loudly. She grinds her hip into him—matching his pace as his tongue moves vigorously through her folds. In seconds she’s coming undone and the sound of her breathless moans fills his head, going straight to his cock. He twitches.
The Painted Lady rolls off of Aang, legs trembling as she gradually comes down from her orgasm. Without wasting time she brings her lips to his and kisses him roughly, tasting herself on him. Her tongue tangles with his and they share one of the sloppiest kisses he’s ever had.
She pulls back, gripping his chin. “Open,” she commands softly and he obeys—instantly, sticking his tongue out. With that, she purses her lips and spits directly in his mouth. “Swallow,” she growls as she closes his mouth. Aang swallows, eyes gleaming with newfound interest.
The Painted Lady moves closer to Katara—her hands resting on her waist as she helps her bounce on Aang’s cock. They’re chasing her orgasm together and they didn’t even know it.
“Look at that. Taking him so well,” The Painted Lady whispers to Katara. Aang’s eyes widen as they then lean in and kiss each other—lips moving against one another like it was something familiar. With a deep groan he grips Katara’s hips—his large hands covering the Painted Lady’s as he stills their movements, his orgasm hitting him like a truck. His load is thick, painting the inside of her walls in a matter of seconds as she comes undone too with a soft cry.
Katara slowly pulls herself off of him—the way his cum leaks out of her is almost pornographic. Aang drapes one arm over his face, trying to calm himself.
“Holy fuck,” he suddenly groans out as his fist clench. The feeling of two warm tongues licking his length clean sends him into a psychosis. His hand immediately reaches out—grabbing a fist full of hair, tugging it gently. “Fuck, stop…please,” he begs, but they just stare up at him—their tongues moving simultaneously up and down his cock. Their eyes lock and his lips part to speak but only a small whimper escapes him.
The Painted Lady is kissing up his shaft while Katara sucks one of his balls into her mouth. “Please, I can’t take anymore,” he says as his grip tightens.
“Too much?” The Painted Lady teases.
Aang can only nod as he looks down at them through teary eyes. “I-I can’t,” he manages.
“Too bad,” Katara adds. He tosses his head back into the grass with a defeated groan. They go back to torturing his spent cock—suckling the head and massaging his balls. The Painted Lady’s hand smoothes down Katara’s back as she watches her take his whole length to the back of her throat.
“Nice and easy,” The Painted Lady coos as her fingers find Katara’s clit, circling it slowly—she runs her slender fingers through her folds, teasing her entrance before pushing it inside.
Aang’s hips buck and he cums with a strained cry, surprising Katara as she swallows it. He’s all flushed, body aching, and head spinning. The Painted Lady’s fingers never stop working their way in and out of Katara, making her pull off of Aang as she cums again with a soft moan. The Painted Lady pulls her fingers from Katara, admiring how they’re covered in her juices. She brings her fingers to Aang’s lips and he opens eagerly, licking them clean—making sure he gets in between the digits.
They all lay back in the grass, naked the same way they entered this world. “Now do you know how you want her to exist?” Katara smirks.
authors note : first time writing smut in literary forever, ntm on me ok.. still learning 🙇🏽♀️ advice is appreciated! NOT proofread + mdni
Your husband, the all oh mighty, Husband!Aang is an eater, for lack of better wording.
You were simply talking to suki, about an upcoming adventure you and the gaang have coming up. What you hadn't realized yet, was the wandering aang behind the corner of the southern air temple's pillars.
Even though you hadn't, Suki did. “Is that aang behind you?” she questioned, which made your head turn around to see him staring at the two of you, before ducking fully behind the pillar.
Jaw clenching with irritation, as you walked towards the pillar, aang looked towards you with a sympathetic look.
“I'm sorry.. I-i just missed you! Okay? And you guys were talking for too long.” he stammered, hands reaching towards yours in a soft hold. “Aang.. I left for 2 seconds.” you spoke sternly, not falling for his sadness, which made him frown.
His hands tighten around yours slightly, not enough to hurt just firm. Aang started to pull you away from the pillar, and from the confused suki a few feet away.
“Sorry suki! I'll tell you later!” whisper yelling as to not bother the monks, who were minding their business, meditating. Though Aang didn't care much, he was the avatar god sakes, who cares if he needs his wife now.
He opened the door of some random meeting room, it was usually for important things of course but, you're important to him.. So he wasn't exactly using the room wrong. The door closed quietly behind him, the lock sound echoing in your ears.
About to speak back, maybe yell at aang about how inappropriate that was, before your hips were grabbed by aang, placing your onto the cold stone table.
“Aang!” you whispered, pushing his shoulders away slightly, needing a moment to stop the thoughts running in your head. He whined as he leaned down into your soft, and plum neck, placing needy kisses along your collarbone.
His kisses led up onto your jaw, sliding up onto your ear. “Pleaseplease..let me, I'll be quick, I promise.” You knew damn well that the whole promise was a lie, aang couldn't help but be slow with you, always making sure your pleasure was his top priority.
Though you couldn't resist your poor husband, especially when his hands would glide under your robes, pressing onto the soft part of your inner thighs. “Mmhm okay.. Just be quick this time, please?” you begged, even though you knew he wouldn't.
It's the thought that counts. He nodded eagerly, both his hands spread the robes that had his colors apart, the orange, blue and white always looking gorgeous on you. The colors of your robes also claimed you as his without him needing to try to.
Aang didn't hesitate to get down onto his knees, looking up at you as he spread your legs apart even more, his fingers hooked onto the lace of your garments to the side. His eyes fully on the already slick cunt in front of him, looking between your thighs like you were food before getting devoured.
Hands reached toward the lower part of your stomach, pressing softly enough to not hurt, but firmly enough that you felt his strength, fingers were so close to your cunt but aang as the boy he is, wouldn't touch just yet.
“Aang.. please, dont tease..” You hummed, fingers gently grabbing onto his head, trying to push his mouth closer to you, desperately rolling your hips towards his face. “I know baby, I know, I'm sorry, my girl is just so pretty.” He cooed, smiling up at your whiny form.
“Sorry my ass.” you murmured, rolling your eyes as you turned your gaze away from his, did aang really think you wouldn't notice the way his ears perked up when he'd tease you? How his marks would glow just slightly but enough to notice.
Or perhaps even, the way his cock would subtly throb behind his robes, or when he'd grow harder inside you?? Tsk tsk.. Aang could tell the teasing was getting to you, the way tears were already forming at the corners of your eyes.
Soo.. like the good boy he was, he dove into you with his tongue like no other. You looked down, trying to hold back the tears of pleasure.
“Fuckf-fuck.. Mhmmhm, aang..! S-so good!-” you moaned out, back hitting the back of the desk, as your thighs wrapped around his head even tighter.
But he continued on like you knew he would, his face pressed closer, tongue lapping up at your folds like he couldn't get enough, on top of that his fingers were teasing the bud of your cunt, clearly overestimating you a little bit.
“Am i a good boy.. Pleaseplease tell me I'm your good boy.” he spoke whiningly, wanting your praises, his whiny voice vibrating from your legs alll the way up to your chest.
Trying to speak back was not really possible right now, trust you wanted to praise him and his tongue so badly, but all that came out were gasps of air, practically mute for the moment since he just wouldn't let up.
A few moments passed with silence, well not really, besides your gasps for air, on top of your moans and the slurping sounds aang was making every few seconds, it was quiet.
He was probably confused why you were quiet, not realizing how good he was pleasing you right now, he finally let up for a single moment to look up at you, thighs still wrapped around his head tightly.
“Y-yesyes-nfghh- please.. Y-your my good boy, so good for me.. Yeah?” you coaxed, which made him satisfied enough, to which he continued to eat you out passionately. “Fuckfuck s-so close! Mmngh aang..please just l-likee.. That mmhm” you breathed out.
Letting one of your hands slide down your stomach towards his head, pulling him in closer as your orgasm was sooo close.
Thighs wrapping around him even tighter now, you were scared he couldn't breathe but the way his marks started to glow, as he eagerly continued lapping at your slick cunt told you otherwise.
He clearly was right where he wanted to be, if he really wanted to he could push your thighs away with ease, but instead as the good husband he is, he lets you do as you please to him even if he couldn't or could breathe.
After a few moments of your moans and whimpers begging him to keep going.
You grabbed onto his head, as hard as possible, while you came, screaming out his name. You were like 100% sure everyone in the palace heard your screams.
Though he didn't stop, instead he continued bobbing his head up and down, side to side, while both his free hands grabbed onto your hips for support.
“A-aang please.. Sensitive still! pleaseplease! “ You begged and pleaded, not using the safe word but still asking, at this point you're not even sure if he heard you, from how hard your thighs were wrapped around his head, covering his ears.
Trying to push his head away from you, or even push his hands, that were gripping a bit tightly now on you away. He finally let up, not sure if you were actually hurt, or just.. He doesn't know, a part of the foreplay or something? He's just a babeh/ref
“Sorry! I'm sorry, sosorry..” He reassured you, pulling away and back up, wiping his mouth before pulling you into a kiss. “I'm sorry, I love you.. Are you hurt? D-do you wanna stop? We can- i dont mind really, i–”
He stammered on and on, innocently— or well, I guess as innocent as he could, with your cum and his saliva mixed with sweat running down his neck towards his chest.
“I'm okay.. Promise, I dont wanna stop, yeah?” You hummed softly, pressing a kiss to his neck while your hand reached towards his painfully, throbbing cock, you tried to not make it obvious, but who cares really, though he did jump a bit, not expecting your hands there.
“Let me help you.. Hm?” voice cooing into his ear, hands squeezing his cock firmly.
“Mhm mhm! Please..” he whiningly spoke, eagerly nodding up and down, trying to mask the moan he had to bite back.
Having free rein of your best friend's home and then combining that with a touch of insomnia is exactly what has Aang currently strolling through the long, winding halls of the Fire Nation stronghold. Zuko had left him ages ago—but only after Aang insisted that he should go and spend the night with you, as the two of them had just returned earlier in the day from a month-long incursion. The palace is mostly quiet given the late hour; the numbers of the Royal Procession have dwindled for the day, and the ones still on duty don't bat an eye at Aang as he wanders through the halls.
'Free rein means opening any and every door that doesn't look like private quarters.' Zuko had said earlier, so it was entirely an accident when Aang noticed he had ended up inside the private library. He only really wanted to get a better look at the portrait hanging on the wall, that's the only reason he opened the already ajar door wider and stepped past the threshold and into the dimly lit space. The Fire Lord and Fire Lady, his very dear friends are the subject of the royal portrait sitting high on the wall, both donned in the nation's colors and looking every bit as regal as their titles entail. You're both standing, him looking down at you and you up at him, and he's pressing a kiss to the back of your hand that's held up to his face. The painting managed to capture the soft expressions that you're always seen openly giving each other.
The unconscious smile that had formed on Aang's face is wiped clean as a muffled sound slices through the air. His eyes drop to the low seat that's placed against the wall right under the portrait and the irritating insomnia and contemplative curiosity give way to lust. Aang doesn't leave immediately after. No, he hides behind one of the many bookcases, ensuring he's out of sight as his heart thumps a beat akin to the flap of hummingbird wings.
Chancing another look, he sees you spread out in Zuko's lap, robe open with your nightgown bunched up to your neckline. Aang's cock gives a traitorous stir as it begins to swell and stiffen in his trousers when he sees that you're stuffed full and bouncing in your husband's lap. There's a strong hand covering your mouth and another guiding your movements up and down the girthy length leaving an imprint that bulges slightly through the skin of your tummy.
Wisps of steam billow from Aang's mouth and he has to bat them away and fold his lips so they don't float to the ceiling and give away his position. Another peek through the rows of the shelf and it could be a trick of the lamplight, but he swears amber eyes meet his for a fleeting second before Zuko's head turns so he can whisper something in your ear. He should leave. But the Fire Lord's breathy whimper baits him like a siren call, keeps him rooted to that one spot as he brushes a hand down the front of his sleep pants. Aang tries in vain to will his erection away with a hard squeeze, as he wonders what you could have done to have Zuko make such a sound. Or if just the simple act of being snug between your slick walls was enough to make him sound so wrecked.
Your ample tits bounce in time to Zuko's thrusts, the last nail in Aang's proverbial coffin as he unlaces his trousers, freeing himself with a near frantic need. The cool air hits him as a blast that nearly makes him sob as he grips the base of his shaft. The shame he feels seems to curdle like milk through him as he dribbles saliva along the velvety, veiny length of him.
He'll consider it punishment the way he's fisting himself so meanly, the strokes long and tight as he tries to match it to the rhythm of skin cracking against skin just out of reach.
"Gods, I missed you." Zuko groans and Aang's back bows, free hand pressing to the shelf for balance as his greedy gaze swallows up the sight of you two kissing. He's so into it, so he's completely unaware that his heated palm has left a perfect handprint in the wood, burnt on evidence of his time spent in a place he shouldn't have been in.
There's shifting, the couch creaks next and Aang's craning his neck over the cases to see that you're on your knees now, slot between Zuko's legs as you suck the taste of yourself off of him. From his hideaway, Aang can hear you working your husband to completion, every flick of your tongue, each gag as you swallow down another inch, the suction of your cheeks and intake of breath as your head is forced closer to his groin.
Zuko's robe is gone with his bare chest heaving, and his other hand fisted in his long, dishevelled hair as he thrusts into your mouth like a man who's definitely missed you and trying to leave his mark. This is when Aang stops trying to keep pace and sets his own, he jerks faster as it pulses like it's got a mind of its own, precum spurting a steady stream that he uses to lube the aching glide from root to tip.
Aang barely has time to smother the moan as his stomach lurches and the sudden orgasm collapses his chest like he's been struck with a battering ram. Now he's scrambling and finds a dusty tome to release his spend into. It snaps shut with a sloppy snick and is hastily put back on the shelf as he tucks himself back into the confines of his trousers.
One last look before he leaves finds you two still unaware, still wrapped up in each other and none the wiser about what he's just done. He finally leaves, light on his feet, fabric of his clothes merely a whisper on the wind.
"Does he think he was being discreet?"
notes: this idea been in the drafts for a minute with three total reworks. enjoy!!
you tell aang you wanna break up with him and he acts like he's a good sport about it but he's showing up to your house everyday, still sleeping in your bed and holding you close and definitely still fucking you so so deep and whispering sweet nothings and even sweeter promises in your ear to the point you're the one asking him to try again
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
you reunite with AANG years later, only to be absolutely lovestruck by his new appearance. and unfortunately for katara, you decide you want him for yourself.
WHEN DID YOU GET HOT ?!
PLOT. years after the war, you reunite with aang in republic city only to realize the boy you once rejected has become impossible to ignore. completely smitten and regretting your decisions, you notice the tension between him and katara, turning you bitter. after overhearing a conversation you weren't supposed to, you decide that their story was never meant to be. so maybe you should stop pretending you do not want him.
WANRINGS. 18+, mdni, smut, angst, dark themes, slight coercion/dubcon, manipulative reader, slight lovesick reader, baby trapping, slightly naïve aang, toxic relationship dynamics, possessive behavior, mentions of past kataang, alcohol consumption, submissive aang, reader is a horrible friend (don't be like her), fingering, oral sex (m. + f. receiving), unprotected sex, riding him, talking him through it, breeding themes, p in v, pregnancy, marriage, mentions of giving birth, fem reader, self indulgent, not proofread.
CHARACTERS. AVATAR AANG.
WC. 15.5k
masterlist
art creds :: cruxifixe_ on x
a/n: i didn't plan for it to become so dark, but i am not changing the title, idc.
i will probably return to edit it more, but i am so sick of coming across this fic in my drafts.
Oh spirits.
Why did it have to be like this?
The last thing you were expecting during your first visit to Republic City was to get smitten by the literal sight of Aang.
The same Aang who had come barging into the Northern Water Tribe, demanding to be trained in the ways of water.
The same Aang who acted like an idiot around you when you first met him, making you second-guess the universe's choice of the Avatar.
The same Aang who you ended up befriending before his leave, leading you to join him on his journey to master all the elements.
Back then, it had been easy to reject him. Taking his idiotic flirty comments as a joke, declaring that your friendship with him would never grow to be something else.
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.
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 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.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
