Ruby’s Space

“you don't have to promise me the moon or the stars, just promise me you will stand under them with me.” – danielle p.

“It’s just one month. I’ll be back sooner than you think! No. Hmm…that’s not right... How about, sooner than you can blink!”

“Aang…”

“Trust me, you’ll see.”

“Promise?”

“As the Avatar and as your husband, I promise to come back to you. Don’t worry.”

At least, that was what Aang had told you.

But that was two months ago without a word from him since.

Republic City was many things. Boring was not one of them.

The capital was full of life. It had its usual hustle and bustle from lively merchants advertising their businesses, mischievous children darting through the streets, and the abundance of song and dance that carried through the city as the sun dipped below the horizon.

Daylight was quickly giving way to twilight, and it was thanks to the lanterns that littered the streets that helped you follow the path further into downtown.

Republic City held undeniable beauty during the day. It was a city of life and wonder where all things were made possible, but it was towards nightfall when it was truly able to shine through.

The people of the city twirled to the ratta tap beat of the music, clearly enjoying the presence of one another. They were free to love who they wanted, benders and non-benders alike, and could live however they so chose. In hindsight, it wasn't much but it was reason enough for them to express their happiness and gratitude through singing and dancing.

You were merely thankful that Katara had agreed to stay back and live within the capital instead of with her father and brother at the newly established Southern Water Tribe. She was a part of the city council, like you were, and was your closest friend. If she wasn’t here, you weren’t sure what you would have done without her.

In fact, that was where you were headed now.

Her home was only a couple of blocks away from yours and your husband’s, which you were very thankful for. Even though Republic City was, more or less, safe within its own measures, there was still crime here and there. People that stole from the market square and ransacked shop owners. Not to mention the fact that the Denied remained a pressing issue. It was why Aang never liked when you would leave after dark by yourself. It was dangerous. Even though he could be a bit overprotective at times, he meant well and was right.

Truthfully, that was what made having Katara live so close by such a relief.

Subconsciously, your arms stiffened around the warm basket of food that you cradled against your chest as you moved quickly through the dimming streets.

When you turned another corner, your eyes gleamed, looking up at the towering building in front of you. Katara’s home was three stories high, and had several lanterns strung up. It was a lot of space for just one person, but she tended to have company over so it was actually quite convenient.

You could smell the fresh scent of jasmine and the warmth from the hearth inside. You didn’t waste another second and stepped up to the door, giving it a clean knock in three’s.

A few seconds went by before the door swung open. When her familiar face peeked from behind the door, a smile quickly found its way to yours.

“Hey! Took you long enough. Get caught up in all of the usual festivities?” Katara teased, giving you a fond smile back before she pulled you into a hug.

Not giving you a moment to respond, she ushered you in and closed the door behind her.

“Sorry about the mess. I’ve been moving some things around. Sokka said he’s bringing some things from home and begged me to make room so–” She spread her arms out to show her progress with a sheepish smile. “I made room.”

Katara had a unique style about her that was unlike anyone you had ever met. She was creative and stylish, yet had this comforting homey feeling about the way she decorated her home—something that never failed to fill you with dread when it was time to part ways.

There were several pieces and such that were previously made sprawled around the large space. They were all from her home, things that meant something to her. Things that were given to her by the children in the villages, and trinkets that Sokka made for her. He liked to tell her that they would become useful someday. Usually, they didn't but she appreciated his little farewell gifts either way.

You could tell that some of it was put up, but it would seem that she’d managed to keep the more meaningful ones out in view. A beautiful pot of jasmines sat comfortably in the window that was near her balcony. They had been a birthday gift from you. Something for her to look after and care for while she remained apart from what was soon going to be her new future.

You were enlightened to know that the flowers were flourishing.

“Yeah,” you exhaled, catching her gaze. “A lot of room, I see.”

Katara shrugged, some of her long dark hair falling over her shoulder. “Well, you know. Sokka asks, I deliver.”

You hummed and nodded with a knowing smile on your lips as you followed the familiar path to the cooking area of her home.

“Oh, yeah. Of course. I mean, you making all of this space has absolutely nothing to do with your betrothed. The same one that is on his way here from the fire nation as we speak. No, no. Surely not,” you jested, settling the still-warm basket of baked goods down on a nearby surface.

You didn’t need to look over your shoulder to know that she had followed you with her lip fit between her teeth and that flustered glint in her eyes. She was easy to read whenever it came to her and Zuko’s relationship.

Speaking of which, it was never made clear when Katara and Zuko became a thing.

Toph once mentioned that it had happened a year or so after the hundred-year war ended. Sokka had taken a more…romantic approach. He preferred to remember it as love at first sight. Or, more knowingly when Zuko first arrived at the Southern Water Tribe, looking for the Avatar. Katara never bothered to correct nor deny either of them. When asked, she simply said,

“Zuko and I… Let’s just say that there was a mutual understanding between us, even as friends. Time is a funny thing. You really start getting to know someone when the world is ending. Or…beginning, I should say.”

At the time, you didn’t know him all that well but Zuko on the other hand…

“Katara is the moon, a light and beacon when the world around me got too dark to see. She has anchored me and I only wish to remain by her side, for as long as she will have me.”

Aang, on the other hand, was the most surprising one.

His support of their relationship had always confused you. Of course, you’d joined the group well after the war and the building of Republic City, but you became close enough to understand their dynamics and history together. His feelings for Katara was made out to be quite strong. Strong enough to see a future together. You could never understand what had happened between them and why they were not still together, but it meant little to you when you'd realized how happier they were apart.

Not to mention that, within a few months, Katara was going to be fire lady of the fire nation. Added that she would also continue to act as one of the council members for Republic City as well as back at the Southern Water Tribe.

It was clear, for both her and Aang, that there were no romantic feelings between them. They died the day they realized they wanted different things but, in place, something else was born.

A friendship that they knew would last several lifetimes over.

It was never like you needed the reassurance of knowing that they no longer had feelings for each other. It was never about that. You loved Aang, but always wanted the best for Katara. So it warmed your heart to know that she was happy.

She deserved it.

“Spirits, enough about me. We have to talk about you.”

Your expression fell a bit, feeling the color drain from your face. The last thing you wanted to do nowadays was talk about you. In fact, keeping all subjects away from you was what, somehow, helped make the days bearable.

Except, Katara had this way about her that wasn't exactly intrusive because she cared about you and could feel when things were off with you. However, she tended to meddle more than you wanted. Especially when she knew that something was wrong, even if you promised her differently.

And well, she was never exactly wrong. It wasn't as if things had been all that great since...

“If this is about Aang, then–”

“Yes. It is.”

You paused.

"Katara.”

“Come on–”

“I honestly would prefer not to really talk about it.”

There was a sharp finality to your tone that made Katara give you a puppyish look. You let out a heavy breath, feeling exhaustion seep into your bones like it'd belonged there. Then again, did it not?

At least it made you feel something other than hurt or angry.

“Aang does this all the time," Katara tried to reassure you. "He’s the Avatar. He’s a busy guy. A lot of people are counting on him to help keep the balance of the world. Without that and peace, I’m not sure where things would be right now. There’s also a lot of people that need him–”

“And I don’t?”

Your interruption made her stop and blink.

You should've stopped it then and there, but there was an impulse inside of you. It felt like it was trying to claw its way from your throat, and you weren't able to catch it in time.

"I know the Denied are an issue and I knew that there were going to be people that would need his help along the way but it’s been two months, Katara. No letters, no word. I don't even know if he's okay or not. I don't know anything, and that’s what hurts me the most."

The silence between you and her managed to smother the sounds of the crackling hearth from the other room. The longer that you stood in silence, the easier it was for a wave of regret to burrow itself down deep into your chest.

There was nothing that you loved more than being by Aang’s side and supporting him through all of his endeavors. This was his purpose, his reason for existing. You knew this, and yet—

You knew how that had sounded. It was…selfish, on a grand scale of things. Aang was the Avatar. He was who the people of the world depended on the most, even for the most minute of reasons. If they called, he answered, always. But, for some reason, the importance of who he was—

It was taking a toll on you.

“Sorry. That was completely unnecessary.” You turned and pressed your back against the edge of the counter, your eyes glued to the floor. “I don’t know. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No,” Katara shook her head, and walked over to place a gentle hand on your arm. She sighed. “You don’t need to apologize. You have every right to feel the way that you do.”

When you looked up, you were met with soft cerulean eyes that gave you more reassurance than you felt you deserved.

“You love him and miss him, a lot. I know the feeling. So don’t invalidate yours by apologizing for something that you can’t necessarily control.”

“I do,” you agreed, fighting the inner turmoil within you. “I do love him, but that still shouldn’t excuse how I’ve been feeling. He’s out there, alone. Sure he can handle himself but he’s...”

A sting to your eyes, a burn to your nose and suddenly your vision started to blur. It only frustrated you more because there was nothing worse than feeling sorry for yourself than crying when you felt you were wrong.

“To me, he’s not the Avatar, Katara.”

You looked at her, ignoring the way your unshed tears made you see the look on her face.

“He’s my husband, and I want him home. I don’t care about the Denied or any other group of criminals. I just want Aang home.”

Katara felt her heart tug down to the shallows of her stomach.

“Hey…”

She pulled you into a hug, feeling your tears dampen her shirt.

“I know,” she nodded. “I know.”

Because if anyone could understand where you were coming from, it was always going to be Katara.

For the past two months, Aang had been on a long and arduous mission somewhere in the Earth Kingdom trying to find out more information on the exact location of the Denied.

Within the last year, there had been several reports that began to surface across entire villages within the Earth Kingdom that were quietly siding with the Denied. Murmurs of a mutual understanding and rebellion against the benders of the world. There were also reports of supply routes disappearing and the Earth Kingdom officials who were being threatened or worse, vanishing completely. No one knew who was leading them, only that they were growing bolder and larger.

Aang was analytical. He knew that they never tended to stay in one place for long so he figured that if he could find their hidden headquarters, he would have access to their current whereabouts or, at the very least, know their next move.

That was what his last letter said to you before they had stopped coming altogether.

Perhaps that was what aided the storm that had been brewing inside of you. The same one that had been creating a monsoon of thoughts and emotions that you would have normally swallowed down in favor of giving Aang your continued patience and support. Even from a distance now forced between the two of you.

And the thing was, you did understand. The Denied were becoming a very serious threat and you knew that he was truly the only one that could sort this without violence and penance.

Your husband was the Avatar, the most important man on the planet. How much more selfish could you be?

“Thank you Katara,” you said and managed to give her a tender smile as you pulled back from her embrace, silently hoping that it was convincing enough to ease her worries.

“Now,” you sniffled, taking a breath. “I believe that we have a lot to talk about with this wedding of yours coming up. Wanna make the tea and I’ll plate some of the homemade sweet buns I brought?”

For a split second, Katara’s brows twitched inward. As if it had been the trick of the room's gentle glow, she smiled warmly and gave you a nod.

“Yeah. Sounds good.”

When you turned to do just that, her face fell.

She knew that look all too well. You were doing it again. You were letting that vulnerable part of yourself decide to crawl back into the cold shadows of your mind where you felt it was safest. It always hurt when you did it with her. She wanted you to feel safe enough to tell her how you felt and rely on her to help alleviate the pain you carried of constantly wondering if you were still a wife or now a widow. It was not easy, of course she knew that. But, still...

She watched you pull two serving dishes from the cabinet and place a few of the sweet buns onto them. When you turned to check on her, she made herself busy by snagging the tea kettle from a lower compartment and filled it with water. You sent her a smile from over your shoulder, and she noticed that it barely met your eyes.

Katara smiled back and turned around, sighing quietly to herself.

Aang, she spoke from the confines of her mind, shutting her eyes. Please come home.

After a rather long talk about wedding plans, council member work and bellies full of a few sweet buns and tea, the sky completed its final cycle and descent into nightfall.

It was time to head back home and just like every night since you were left alone, you dreaded it.

Without Aang, home no longer felt like home. It lacked the warmth and luminance that your lively husband tended to bring with him. Where it felt as though the sun encompassed the space, once he was gone, he left behind a cold and dark cloud that seemed to engulf everything within reach. Like a black hole that only knew how to consume until there was nothing left.

The thought of having to return back to that only made your stomach turn. He should be here. He should be home, with you.

But he wasn’t.

When you made it to the foyer of her home, you were pulled into another hug but tighter this time. Katara squeezed you as if she, too, knew what you were you going back to.

“Promise me that you’ll come back over the day after tomorrow,” She said, just above a whisper next to your ear. “Sokka’s going to want to see you and Zuko too. Honestly, not seeing you for a day will kill me but I have that council meeting about the trades from back home tomorrow…”

Slowly but firmly, you circled your arms around her form, giving her a promising nod.

“Don’t worry. I will.”

When you separated and walked out, you could feel pieces of her home trying to pull you back in. It also knew.

Katara sent you a small wave, and watched you disappear back into the streets of the city, headed down the familiar darkened path to what you still managed to call home.

As if the universe was aware of your desolate mood, it began to rain.

You couldn't help but stop where you were, craning your neck up to the sky. It started with a few drops along your cheeks until the rain fell in sheets, soaking you from head to toe. However, you didn't move. Not even when those that were leisurely walking the streets, likely going back home as well, gasped and jogged the rest of the way, seeking warmth and shelter.

It was the middle of fall, and it was raining. Usually the city would see a few snow-scares before winter finally came around but rain at this time of the year was rare.

A brief sigh left your lips as you closed your eyes, and continued to stand in the middle of the street, ignoring the feeling of your clothes sticking to you like a second skin. Then, you smiled.

Memories of the last time you were caught in the rain resurfaced and helped you remember one of the last moments that you'd had with Aang.

༄ ... flashback ... ༄

"What about this?"

Aang took a brief glance at you from over his shoulder before he released an airy breath.

"Not everything's going to be something worth taking back home, my love." He smiled and turned back to what he was doing.

You raised a brow, and studied the artifact for a moment.

Under the warm glow of a nearby lantern, you held up long, thin pieces of metal that were suspended at uneven lengths and had fading, almost smooth-looking air nomad glyphs carved onto them. There were some parts of it that had green weathering areas from decades of mountain snow and rain exposure while others had small dents along the edges. The metal parts were divided by tiny beads that were carved from pale wood and chimed quietly together when the wind stirred well enough. They produced a soft hollow sound. It was almost…haunting.

That was when you heard Aang shift to look at you again but this time, his face paled.

He sucked in a breath and held it as he turned to face you. His eyes were wide and on the chimes that you were still holding.

"Is that..."

You watched the way his fingers twitched at his side, almost as if he wanted to reach out to touch it but was afraid to.

"That's... Those are prayer chimes."

He moved closer to you, and finally raised a hand to gently brush along the dusty beads. His eyes were glossy, even under such poor lighting.

"The monks used to use these for mediation and mourning. I haven't heard the sound of these since before the war. Since I was a child."

His voice was barely above a whisper and if you weren't paying such close attention, you would've missed it.

When his eyes shifted onto you, your heart sunk.

"Oh, Aang..."

He brought a hand up to his temples and rubbed them before turning back around. Memories of his old mentor and best friend, Gyatso, surfaced.

Times where Aang would mediate with him and hear those same chimes from the archway of the room. How, on nights where it was difficult for Aang to sleep, the old monk would let him rest in his room while the soft ringing of the chimes lulled him to sleep, finally ridding his mind of the nightmares that ailed him.

Flashes of the past began to filter through his mind, glimpses of his old friend, of the children that he played with, of the joy and the laughter. All of it came rushing back, the dreams of his memories that had been haunting him every night were colliding with his waking mind. It was so surreal, he could hardly tell what was real anymore.

It was like they were there, all of them; he could hear them as if he was there again, back at the Southern Air Temple, enjoying his youth with his friends and the one monk that never saw him as the Avatar. Just Aang, a boy that met a worldly responsibility at an age where all that should have mattered to him was being a kid. In the face of what truly came to matter, he got scared and ran away.

If he hadn’t run away, if he had chosen to stay and fight what was inevitably coming, would his people have survived or would he have just died trying?

Aang knew that it was pointless to still dwell on. It was far too late now.

And it was because of this that he would always see himself as a coward, the coward that ran away yet still called himself the Avatar.

How foolish, and undeserving he was.

Without another thought, you gently placed the chimes back on the surface where you found them and slid your arms around his waist, holding him. You pressed your cheek against the warmth of his back, and closed your eyes.

"We'll take them with us. We'll take as much as Appa can carry, okay?"

You opened your eyes and tried to peek around Aang's broad form to see his face. You knew that he was crying. You saw it in his eyes before he looked away, and you could see it now. He was still covering his face, but you could see the traces of tears that started to fall. You could also feel him trembling, and not from the draft curling through the room.

It pained him to be here. It pained him to be in any of the air temples but more so with having you riding along with him. He never liked to show you the weakest parts of him, but being in these places... In the places that held the memory of his people that were long gone and only here through his own memories—it was a kind of pain that couldn't be put into words.

"I'm sorry," you heard him say, watching him shake his head. "This was meant to be a bonding trip for us. I didn't mean to ruin it by getting all sad and emotional."

Your heart nearly stopped. You pulled back just to turn him back around so that you could see him clearly. You reached up and pried his hands away, finding his teary eyes and red-splotched cheeks utterly heart-breaking.

You took his face in your hands, and rubbed away the falling tears.

"Never apologize for having emotions ever again, Aang, do you hear me? I can't bear it. You are allowed to feel exactly how you feel. No matter what emotion that is, it's okay."

He looked at you with such softness and vulnerability, it almost broke you into a million pieces.

"My love, we are two halves of a whole. I share your pain while you share mine. I know that you wanted to come here and show me pieces of your past, but please don't apologize when the memories get too much to bear. As your wife, I am meant to carry that weight with you. Never forget that."

A distant rumble of thunder shuddered and rattled around the old temple, causing some of the ancient wood to creak and groan. It coincided with the storm that simmered at the edges of Aang's mind. Yet, looking at you while placed into the delicate palms of your hands grounding him—he felt it all wash away. The darkness that filled him began to descend and retreat back into the shadows of his mind until all he could see and hear was you.

Aang lifted a hand to cover one of yours, giving you a warm and familiar smile.

"What would I do without you?"

"Mmm," you smiled back. "I don't know. Miss me?"

"You're right." He let out a low chuckle before he pulled you in closer, one hand on your waist while the other covered the back of your hand that was still against his face. His big grey eyes were back to their usual playfulness and you knew exactly what was on his mind.

"Aang, its going to storm soon."

"Mhm."

"Sooo."

He smirked, his eyes moving down to your lips.

"Sooo?"

You tried to hold back a roll of your eyes, but ultimately failed. He laughed as you sighed.

"You're such a handful, you know that?"

Aang lowered his head until his lips were just a breath away from yours. You could practically feel the smile on his lips as he said,

"Yeah, and you wouldn't have it any other way."

The moment that you took a breath, he wasted no time and pressed his lips against yours, swallowing it whole. You gave in and melted against him, moving your arms to wrap around his neck. You closed your eyes, and imagined a world where it was just you and him living endlessly, eternally bound to one another until the end of time and the life thereafter.

You knew that you did not hold the power to rewind time and bring all of his people back. But, what you did have was hope. You would help him build back what he had lost the best way you knew how and that was by focusing on what was still here rather than mourn what was now lost.

It started with you, him, and a lot of dusty old airbender relics…which had to be put on pause the moment that you felt his lips trail from the curve of your jaw to your neck.

"Aang," you whined.

"Shhh."

He switched places so that your back was in line of an old rickety table, and placed his hands at your waist to lift you up onto it. When it wobbled and creaked, both of you shared a wide eyed look before giggling together.

"If this comes down with me on it, me and appa will leave you here."

Aang chuckled lowly as he mapped his wide hands along your thighs, moving between them, close to the warmest part of you. His lips ghosted yours again as a mild distraction and without you noticing, he bended the air, parting your legs to slot himself right in the middle of them.

Your breath hitched when you felt him grip your thighs to pull you right up against him, feeling a desperate ache below your navel stir awake.

He hummed.

"Then I'll make sure I'm real gentle. Don't worry," and claimed your lips again, groaning at the muffled whine at the back of your throat with terrible plans of wrecking you and that feeble ol' table.

When both of you were finally dressed again and Aang told you that it was time to head back home, it began to pour with rain.

Before you and Aang had set out in search of ancient airbender relics at the old northern air temple, the sky was clear of clouds and any other indication of rain. Now, there wasn't a hint of blue left. There were just dark grey clouds and buckets of cold rain cascading down.

Once all of the old relics that the two of you could fit in your satchels were full, Aang whistled for Appa. The large bison roared in the distance and came barreling through the sky, landing a few feet in front of you.

"Come on, let's get back home before it gets worse!"

He took your wrist and tried to pull you along but was met with a bit of resistance. Worried and confused, he looked back at you with furrowed brows.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?"

There was nothing about you that alarmed him other than the way you were looking around. Well, then there was the apprehension in your voice too.

"I don't know, Aang. You know what they say about flying in storms like this. Plus, we're going to be soaking wet. I think I'll pass on that."

All of the tension that quickly coiled under his skin fell away. He smirked, quirking a brow.

"What? Scared of a little water? The same woman that managed to hold her own against a fire bender and a few lightning attacks? Who are you and what did you do to my wife?"

Without looking down, he felt your hand tighten around his. There was a new air of determination about you that made him fight back a smile. He always knew how to get to you. He just had to press the right buttons, and so he did.

"Let's go," you muttered and with a faint yelp from him, you tugged him out to Appa and saddled up. When you grabbed the reins and looked down at him wearing an impatient expression on your face, he finally smiled to himself.

"Yes ma'am," and used the air around him to push off on the balls of his feet up onto Appa as well, sitting right behind you. Even though both of you were soaked through, he still wrapped his arms around your waist, suctioning the front of his body against the back of yours. He felt you stiffen, and watched the way your hands gripped at the reins. He smirked again, and looked ahead. "Appa, yip yip!"

And then you were off, headed back home.

༄ ... end of flashback ... ༄

When the memory faded and you opened your eyes, you felt the wind begin to pick up, ruffling your clothes and the shutters on the houses around you.

It was definitely time to head back home.

Once you'd made it through the entrance, you made a face, finally feeling the heaviness of your clothes. Eagerly, you peeled off each article and hung them up in the entryway to dry. With each pad of your feet towards your shared bedroom, you left behind a trail of wet footprints that you made a mental note to clean up when you were all washed and dried.

As you stood underneath the copper rainfall-style pipe and let the warm water roll off of your body in steady trails, you could feel your mind begin to wander.

Weeks of waiting to hear back from Aang, and nothing. No letters from his wind-swallow messenger nor any word from any of your connections in the Earth Kingdom. Not even from the one person that would’ve sent you an update the moment she caught wind of his name. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to dig for information from Toph. She just didn’t have anything worth noting to give you.

It was nerve wracking having to wait. To worry and spend almost every single night curled up in a ball in a bed that no longer even smelled like him anymore. It felt like each day came to erase him, piece by piece, until time left you with nothing but what he was. Not as the Aang you'd come to know, but as the Avatar instead.

You had half a mind to set out to his last known location to search for him, but Katara stopped you before you could do it. She’d told you that she understood why you wanted to go, but that it wouldn’t help the situation. Especially if, when he did come back, he came back to an empty home and to the news that you were dead, thousands of miles where no one would ever find you.

You understood that it was not because you were weak or unable to handle your own out there. It was simply because there was not a single person alive that didn’t know who you were, unless they lived under a rock. Everyone knew you were the Avatar’s wife, which made you worth as much as Aang. It made you into a target.

Katara was truly your voice of reason; why you decided to stay put and wait instead. You couldn’t bear hurting Aang that way or ever at all. Plus, you were brave but you were not stupid either.

As painful as it was to sit and be patient, it was your only option.

When the water began to shift temperatures, you decided that it was best to finish washing up and finally get dry.

Once you stepped out of the stone-clad bathroom and into the main bedroom, it was hard to ignore the emptiness around you.

During Aang’s absence, you’d made several attempts at keeping the space well-kept and full of the same vibrance that he was so naturally gifted with. From leaving a few ancient nomad scrolls in one corner of the room to keeping an incense lit in the other. It was always the same scent. Cedarwood and Juniper. He’d once told you that it would help him quiet his thoughts. To rest his mind so that he could meditate in peace.

Your brows furrowed, staring at the meditation corner. Try as you might, but it would seem that dust was drawn to the places where he lingered the most. Maybe it was meant to haunt you worse than the memories and the nightmares. You see, dust was something that you could see. What your mind often conjured were things that you could blink away or distract yourself from.

Something physical, on the other hand…

It only served as a cruel reminder that you were alone and had been for a while.

Your feet crossed the room without much sound, flitting about the room like you were just remnants of a person; a ghost in your own home. Once your skin was dry and lathered in its usual oils, you spotted something from the corner of your eye. On the dresser rested a folded heap of orange and yellow fabric. Your heart clung to the cage in your chest as you took in a slow breath, and shuffled over. As delicately as you were capable, you pulled it down and watched it unravel before you.

It was one of Aang’s robes. It was one that he wore when he was at home and could shuck off his everyday wear to replace it with something that didn’t remind him of his duties as the Avatar. You’d made it for him one day, and he had worn it ever since.

When you rose it up to the tip of your nose, you could still smell bits of him.

“I just want to know that you’re safe. That’s all.”

Maybe Aang was safe, he just couldn’t send his messenger, but you selfishly wished that he would just so you could know something.

With a sigh, you placed it back in the same neat fashion the robe was previously in before dressing in your night gown. It wasn’t completely see-through but just enough to keep your skin cool from the hot temperatures of your shower and the mugginess luring in from the outside rain.

After you cleaned up the wet footprints from the entryway, you decided that another hot cup of tea would help you rest for the night. Or, at the very least, settle your cloudy mind.

Luckily, you still had some jujube-ginger tea left over from earlier in the morning and heated the kettle up atop the warming flame. It was going to be a few minutes so you crossed back into the common room for a moment, and opened a few windows along with the balcony doors. For a brief second, you stood there and watched the rain fall.

Aang always did prefer some of the windows opened, especially when it was nice outside and the wind was blowing. He loved the home more when there was fresh airflow coming through but with the rain, it felt cold; much like how everything else around you did.

With a sigh, you turned and chose to take a seat near the lowered table on a fluffed cushion. The silence was welcoming, but the emptiness was not. You brought your legs up so that you could rest your chin on your knees, and stared out at the balcony doors.

During the first week after Aang left for his mission, you started looking for him to come dropping back in on the balcony. The two of you had a wrap-around balcony but he preferred to come in where you could see him. So you would wait up, every night, until you began to realize that he wasn’t going to be coming back home anytime soon.

You’d told yourself that every week but when it got to be a month and a half, you stopped looking for him completely. You went about your days as if he was already gone and in a way, that was what it felt like. It felt like a loss, even though the better part of you knew that he was still out there.

Or, at least, you'd hoped so.

Hope was a funny thing sometimes but it kept you from doing something stupid like going out and finding him yourself, despite what Katara said. Who knows if you would like what you found anyway...

Still waiting for the whistle of the kettle, you shifted and was about to reach for a book you’d started recently reading when your eyes caught a few scattered pieces of half-rolled up paper on the table. Your brows furrowed, and reached for them instead.

When you unraveled one of them, you felt a wave of sadness crash into you. It was all of Aang’s letters to you. Well, the ones that he'd sent before they stopped coming.

You sifted through them until you came upon the first one he’d sent and sniffled, pulling a spare blanket over your legs as you started to read through them all over again.

༄ hey baby, it’s me! well…guess you already know that by the bird huh? by the time you read this, i’ll already be pretty close to the border of the earth kingdom. i wish i could give you more than that but you know how easily these letters can fall into the wrong hands. anyway, i miss you… so much. these past few nights have been so lonely without you… momo and appa would bite my head off if they could read this but it’s not the same without you

but i hope the necklace i gave you makes up for my absence, just until i get back yeah?

wait for me. i will be home, soon

– A

As you read through it, you'd subconsciously reached up and fiddled with the necklace that hung around your neck. It was the only piece of jewelry that you never took off, not even when you bathed. It was the only thing that you had left of him, other than his robe.

You didn’t realize that you were crying until you noticed a dark wet spot on the parchment. You cleared the tears away, and shuffled the papers so that you could read the next few.

༄ my love, my sweet love, how are you?

i got your letter, don’t worry, i just haven’t had time to get back to you because guess what? i found a clue on where they are! well, actually, sorry i forgot to mention that i’m here in the earth kingdom now and actually met up with toph. enjoyed seeing her again but sadly she didn’t have any info on you know who sooo, i went out and did my own digging and actually found something!

it was details about another hideout but it really feels like i’m getting closer which means i should be home soon! exciting right? to see your face again, to hold you and kiss you… it’s all i dream about. well, when i get to sleep that is. sleeping hasn’t been all that easy lately…

sorry that this letter is longer than the last. i’ll work on that. just got too excited to talk to you but i know we will talk again and next time, i hope to have better news. until then…

– A

Thankfully, the hearth in the common room you were in had still been on when you’d left earlier to go see Katara. It kept you warm as you sat there, on the floor, reading through old letters and reopening old wounds.

With another quiet sniffle, you moved on to the next and final one that almost made you break down while reading it.

༄ hi love.

i don't want to scare you but...momo isn’t doing well. i’m not sure when he started to feel sick or how or from what and i was close to turning back but he’s in toph’s care right now and i’m closer than ever on the group's whereabouts. appa is doing ok, don’t worry. me on the other hand…

it’s been storming a lot here. you know i’m not a big fan of storms but even without you here to keep me calm, i’ve been managing.

i want to come back home. i really do. it’s all i think about now but i know i cant. i have to make sure this group is no longer a threat to our home, to you. you understand that…right?

pls don’t give up on me. i WILL be home soon. i made you that promise didn’t i? do you still believe in it? pls say that you do.

i do…

i can’t say when i will be able to write to you again but hopefully you’ll see me in person so we won’t have to rely on these little pieces of paper.

i love you. so much. you are my heart and my everything. i know i have already asked so much of you but pls continue to wait for my return.

talk soon,

– A

Before you knew it, you were sobbing.

Horribly.

The letters were scattered around you when you tugged the blanket up to your face, crying into it. It felt like your heart was breaking into two all over again. Every part of you felt hollow and in so much pain, you could hardly move. Your body shook and trembled, curling into yourself until you felt like the smallest thing in the room.

The battle of knowing that Aang held the world on his shoulders as the Avatar but doubled as your husband and was only trying to do what was right, weighed heavily on you. It felt silly to be so upset just because you missed him but you also knew that it was not only that. It was how worried you were for him. He was never someone that would not communicate, even if it was just a two-sentence letter. What if something really did happen to him? What if you’d spent all this time crying and being angry at him when there was a real possibility that he might have been…

You shook your head and dug your fingers into your legs, pushing your face further into your knees. No, you told yourself. Aang was fine. He was strong and more than capable of taking care of himself. He’d fought many to make Republic City into what it was. He’d even fought a spirit just to fight for his claim over the land itself. Even through the times that he lost, he got back up and kept fighting until he won.

That was your Aang. That was the man that you fell in love with and trusted more than anything. He told you to wait. He promised that he would return to you. You knew this and believed in it, in him.

So why were you doubting him now?

Was it the absence? The unknowing of where he was and if he was really okay? The cut of communication and no information from Toph? The same person that Aang said he'd seen in his letter to you before he had just...disappeared?

You tried to rationalize some of your thoughts before they got too dark. Toph, more than likely, didn't give you any deep information on his whereabouts because it came in a correspondence and was not a conversation that was done in person. You remembered that letters were intercepted all of the time. It did no one any favors for outsiders to know that the Avatar was gone and had left his defenseless wife, at home, all by herself.

Toph was looking out for you and her friend, Aang. It was the only thing that made sense.

You gave yourself a few more moments before you decided to light one of the incenses that Aang used, if not to breathe and bring you momentary peace. Once that was done, the tea kettle squealed hot on its open flame, grabbing your attention. When you gathered the letters and placed them back on the table, you went to check on the tea.

As you poured yourself a cup, the aroma whirled around the space and blended with the scent of the incense, calming your mind and your body in one. For a moment, you allowed yourself the opportunity to think of nothing. To stand in place, and just breathe.

The one thing you’d forgotten to do in your husband’s absence was meditate. Frankly, it was something that you did together. You knew it was often best to do it alone, but you loved being near him in a pocket of silence to sit, breathe, and feel the things around you. He once told you that meditating was not always a way to connect with his past lives. He mostly did it for himself. To ground himself when he needed it most.

Aang was far from perfect. He had just as many flaws as the next person and knew, through meditating, he could find himself again. Especially during his hardest moments.

You wondered if he ever found the chance to meditate while being away. If there was time for him to just be alone with his thoughts and connect back with the air around him. To try and reach out to you the way you’d tried with him in your dreams.

The thought pulled a smile from you. You pictured him sitting in a cross-legged fashion, fists together with a particularly concentrated expression on his face before it turned into a cute pout. Maybe the demands around him kept him from truly being able to focus. Upon people seeing him, there was no telling what kind of side quests he was put on. It was like him to get sidetracked in favor of helping those that needed it along the way.

You took the opportunity to splash a bit of cool water onto your face to subdue any puffiness that might come from your earlier moment of crying and took your tea back into the common room, crossing out to the balcony.

The rain had lightened to a soft pitter-pat with a few rumbles of thunder in the distance. It would seem that the worst of it was well over and left behind a soft soothing ambience to close out the night.

You were appreciative. The rain never bothered you. In fact, you enjoyed storms. It provided enough noise to shut out the bad thoughts, and it tended to fill the home in a way that made you feel less alone.

As soon as you were about halfway through your cup of tea, you set it down and glanced at a few pots of flowers next to you. Your eyes softened. Wind lilies. On one of your first trips out to the Southern Air Temple, there were only a few left that were healthy enough to take back with you and since then, they’d been thriving wonderfully. It was only due to your frequent tending that they had managed to survive for so long. Still, most flowers, especially brought from one region to live in another, would struggle to acclimate to a different climate. These, on the other hand…

“Thank you for sticking it out with me,” you bent to meet the lilies eye to eye, smiling. “My little troopers.”

Moments of Aang struggling to remember to water them half of the time almost made you giggle. He had many talents, but tending to flowers was definitely not one of them. Funny, considering he was the master of patience. However,

“C’mon,” Aang whined, half of his lumbering body hanging across the balcony railing. “You know I’m not good at that stuff. Flowers require too much work.” You smiled, rolled your eyes and continued watering them. He then grinned and made his way over to you, wrapping his arms around you. “Not that it matters when they’ve got such a good mama to do it though, huh?”

“Aang, you’re impossible.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, lips against your neck. “I know.”

A sigh left your lips as you studied the flowers a bit closer. There were a few dead leaves that needed trimming and you decided that since you were having some trouble sleeping and was waiting for the tea to kick in anyway, why not cut them now? So, you grabbed a pair of brass trimming shears that were near the flower pots and got to work.

The tranquility of the soft rain, the surrounding city lanterns and the smell of the wind lilies filled your chest with a warmth that you hadn’t felt in a while. You were not often rewarded with nights like this. The ones where you weren’t constantly being haunted and tormented with dreams that would urge you awake, night after night. No, this was one of those nights where you'd almost felt at peace with yourself. Where being at home didn’t feel as though it was draining you. Things almost felt…right.

So, you allowed yourself this momentary feeling of freedom from it all and started to hum as you trimmed, remembering a tune from your childhood. In the stillness of your mind, you'd missed the way the air shifted around you. A breeze that was not there moments ago was now brushing at the ends of your hair like a familiar touch that you’d become unfamiliar with.

Gentle as a breeze, and unbeknownst to you, Aang landed on the other side of the western curve of the balcony that was near the bedroom. He closed his glider, set it to the side, and stepped inside while being as careful and as silent as he could. In truth, it was never very difficult for him. He tended to walk as if his feet hardly ever touched the ground, but he could feel the exhaustion creeping up on him.

It had been a long and grueling journey back home.

Momo finally started to feel well enough to travel so once Aang was able to settle things back at the Earth Kingdom, he knew that it was time to head back. For the first few hours, he had been overly excited. He was coming back home, coming back to you, his sweet little wife, but with the lack of sleep and all of the stress that he had underwent—it was no wonder his footsteps landed on spots in the wood flooring that they normally would not have. They creaked underneath him but he figured that you were probably deep in sleep and wouldn't notice.

When he finally rounded into the bedroom, he discarded all of his damp clothing and slid on a pair of warm loose sleeping pants that he let hang low on his hips. He was fully prepared to slip into bed and cozy up next to you when he noticed that the bed was made as if you hadn't slept yet. It was strangely untouched, almost as if you'd never even acknowledged it at all. Were you not home?

Sporting a small pout, Aang peeked his head into the washroom but was met with the same silence and darkness he'd walked into when he came in.

Softly, he called your name as he moved towards the kitchen area and...nothing. He frowned, but wasn't at the stage of concerned yet. Especially since there was clearly a warm kettle of tea that was left on the warmer. He brushed the back of his hand against it. He was right. You couldn't have made the tea that long ago, so you were close by. He was sure of it.

He was always good at finding you. That was never a problem.

It just helped when he could...cheat a little.

When he stepped into the common area, he circled his fingers through the air, bending the flow of the current to his will so that he could feel for your presence. Since the windows and the balcony doors were open, it was easy for air to travel through the home and wind throughout, being able to cover the entire upper floor before he took his next breath. Suddenly, the torrent of air stopped. His eyes widened, and a warm smile curved at his lips.

There you were.

Before he could walk out to the balcony to you, he heard the sound of paper shuffling to the floor. Curious, he turned and saw what was there. He bent at the knees and with a crease to his forehead, his eyes swept over the pages.

Letters. His letters to you.

Even though he remembered what he had wrote to you, he read over them, ignoring the way his chest flooded with a sinking feeling. They were hard to read, being back home now. He'd missed you, a lot, but didn't want to even imagine how his long and silent absence affected you.

He sighed and dropped his hand, still holding the letters. His eyes traveled over to the hearth that was still aflame, and felt a chill along his naked spine. Maybe he should have rushed the mission. He knew he needed more information on the Denied but was all of it worth it in the end? If you were still up at this late hour and was drinking jujube-ginger tea while rereading all of his letters...

He had been wrong.

He'd told himself that you understood what he needed to do, who he was to the people of the world. You knew he was the Avatar. He had a duty to protect the people and the balance of all nations but more importantly, you.

So did you not understand? Did you pretend to when he first told you that he loved you and wanted to be with you for the rest of his life?

All he wanted was to make sure that the world stayed safe enough for you to live in. It was never like you asked him to take on that responsibility, but he couldn't sleep at night knowing that you were constantly surrounded by danger when he knew that he could do something about it. You deserved what he had to fight for, and that was peace.

But could it really be at the cost of causing you so much pain and unrest?

Suddenly, he was afraid to face you. It felt like judgement day.

Still, no matter what, Aang had to see you. He'd let you cry, scream and hit him if it made you feel better. He just wanted to lay eyes on you. Maybe hold you, if you'd let him. Spirits, he hoped so...

With a firm resolve set in his jaw, he gently placed the letters back on the lowered table and quietly made his way out onto the balcony where you were still chipping away at dead leaves.

Even though you had no bending abilities, you were still able to feel when something...was off. It was like a shift in the air, a turn; a difference. It brushed against your skin like a breath waiting to exhale.

As noticeable as it was, it still didn’t prepare you for what came next.

"You're still awake."

It was as if the world had gone quiet. The rain, the wind chimes, the distant hum of the city below—it all faded into nothing. Even the air in your lungs had abandoned you.

It couldn’t be…

It wasn’t—

But you didn’t turn to look. You didn’t even blink.

Instead, you held your breath and counted down the seconds, hoping that you weren’t having another waking nightmare. Your mind could be terribly cruel that way. It’s enjoyed making you suffer the long and lonely days and nights with your husband gone, tormenting you with memories and phantom touches of his fingers across your skin. It had this peculiar way of creating illusions that it knew you yearned for, if not to silence the thought of losing him.

Aang.

It was him, you knew it. Like the flowers in your palms, this was real; this, you knew. Except, the greater part of you couldn't bring itself to face him.

It was the months of waiting, of spiraling between anger and worry. It took from you until you had nothing left to give.

So, you said nothing.

You resumed snipping at the leaves, and ignored the sharp breath from behind you. By now, he must have realized. How could he not? You'd left things as they were; the bed, the tea, the letters... Oh, the letters. They were the worst. Surely he'd put the pieces together by now. Every fractured part of you was right there in front of him, painfully bare.

Aang had failed to realize the impact of his absence, but he could see it now.

Things were worse than he could've imagined.

After a moment of silence, he took a brave step forward, testing the waters. He let his footsteps create enough sound for you to hear him, but you did not react.

He stepped forward again, and was now close enough to feel your body heat against his own. His eyes assessed what he could see of you. They went from your tensed shoulders to each shallow breath that you took, and down to the rigid way that you were trimming the leaves. His face pulled into a slight frown. He wanted to reach out and touch you, but he wasn't sure how to go about it. You were upset, he could tell, so he wanted to tread as carefully as possible.

But moments like these were handled as they always were.

Aang grinned to himself.

He knew just how to fix this.

He started off by brushing his fingers against your arm, trailing up until they poked against your cheek. Of course, nothing, but he expected as much. He then placed his chin on your shoulder and continued to watch you before sliding his long arms around your waist, holding you against him. Curiosity stirred in his eyes and deep in his chest as he leaned into you, trying to catch your eyes. You were focused, and agonizingly silent.

Aang pouted.

He'd thought that he could fix this the ol' fashioned way.

Guess not.

"Baby... I'm home. I'm here now. C'mon," he closed his eyes for a brief moment, and grazed his lips against your neck. "Talk to me. Please."

He didn't move away, and neither did you. Your mind spiraled as you tried to ignore him. The part of you that was excited to have him back home, safe and sound, had been drowned out by what had lingered after he'd left you in a period of burning silence. You allowed yourself to feel angry, to feel hurt and abandoned because these feelings were coming from a place in your heart where only he occupied.

You didn't love easily. Falling for Aang happened over time. It’d started purely as adoration that eventually turned into something that you knew would ruin you.

It took work to get to where you were with him. He'd spent years pining and yearning after you, courting you with flowers and big gestures that ultimately ended with him proposing to you. You remembered it like it was yesterday. It was beautiful because he had done it privately, just the two of you. That was what made it special.

That was the moment that you'd truly fallen in love with him.

Aang had always been someone that provided you with love, affection, honesty and communication and, maybe, that had turned into your greatest weakness somewhere along the way. You'd fallen so deeply in love with him that a garden of selfishness began to grow. You'd accepted him as the pillar of peace and balance, but that acceptance slowly festered and turned into a nasty thought that wouldn't go away. It wasn't like he could stop being the Avatar. You knew this, but...

You were so selfish. You loved him. You loved a man that was now your husband but still had to give half of himself to a world that would always need him even when you felt you needed him more.

This confliction within you confused you. He needed someone that was willing to be by his side, accept his duties and still love him all the same. You just didn't know how to do that without wanting him all to yourself.

This love for him... It weakened you, and it exposed him. If he decided to choose you over the world one day, what would happen then? Would there even be a world for him to love you in? Would it not go back to the days of chaos and madness? The founding and building of Republic City would be for naught and would fall without his constant influence and protection.

Was it not better this way? To swallow your deepest and darkest feelings lest they come to light and destroy all that you and Aang had built for one another?

A pain twisted in the maze of your heart, settling like a rock in the ocean. Maybe the answer was simple. Maybe it was an answer you knew you wouldn't like.

You paused what you were doing, staring down at the shears clutched in your hand.

When you spoke, you felt his fingers twitch against your stomach.

"Welcome home."

Aang knew he should have been happy. You were talking to him again. However, it was not in the same way that he had become so greedily accustomed to. Your tone was flat, your body was stiff and you still weren't looking at him. His stomach felt twisted in knots. He must've really fucked this up.

The last time you were this upset with him was when he had told you that he was going to the fire nation for a briefing with Zuko and the fire nation council members. There was a border issue that needed addressing and the group behind the incident demanded to speak with the Avatar only. He'd promised you that it was not going to be long before he came back home, and that he would be careful. Except when he did come back home, he was in worst shape than when he'd left. It'd scared you and you told him how the thought of losing him made you feel.

That was the first time, since marrying you, that he'd come to truly realize how deeply and utterly in love he was with you. How it, too, would kill him if anything were to happen to you. It was one of the bigger reasons why he didn't mind being the Avatar. If it meant keeping you safe, then he would choose this path in each and every single lifetime.

Even if it meant having you angry and upset with him more often than not. Much like now, except this...this felt different. He wasn't sure how yet, but it did.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered near your ear, looking at the side of your face like a kicked puppy would. "I mean it. I know I made you worry, and I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

Those words...

It won't happen again.

But, it would, wouldn't it? And you knew why.

When he felt you untangle yourself from his arms and step back from him, he felt his body wash over with sand, pulling him down until it nearly suffocated him from the inside. Rejection sat heavy within him, too heavy for comfort. Then the frown on your face, the hurt in your eyes and the way you looked at him.

Spirits, he truly hated that look.

It made him inhale, feeling his head swell with an emotion that he couldn't quite place.

"Sorry?" You closed your arms around yourself, and shook your head. "No, Aang... You have nothing to apologize for. It's your duty, as the Avatar, to put the people first. The Denied needed to be taken care of. I...understand this now. It's fine. We're fine." Your eyes fell to the city beyond you, watching the rain scatter across shutters and the rocky pathways of the streets. "Just fine."

You could tell that he didn't believe you. Spirits, you didn't believe you. It almost made you cringe, but you tried to school your features to remain as neutral as you were able to.

"I don't believe you."

Your eyebrows twitched.

Aang stepped towards you, fully expecting you to step back again. When you didn't, he released a breath. Relief acted like a sedative to the rejection from a moment ago. Better, he thought.

"If you were fine, if we are fine, then you wouldn't still have that look on your face."

"What are you talking about?" You asked, your eyes finding his again.

The way he was staring at you now, it made you feel so exposed. You never could hide parts of yourself from him. He was very good at seeking them out and making you lay them all out where he could see them, plainly; openly. It unnerved you when you knew he was right to.

When he said your name, it was under his breath and there was a rhythmic tic in his jaw. He looked as if he was trying to keep his composure, but the shiver that ran down your spine could not be ignored. You swallowed, and pushed your teeth into your lip.

"Don't do that."

His tone dropped quietly, familiar in a way that unsettled you more than if he'd raised his voice. It sounded practiced, like something that was said to you during moments where he felt you slipping away from him emotionally, and instinctively reached out to pull you back.

Your breath stumbled over the next.

"Do what?"

His lips pulled into a half smile, his eyes darkening.

"Act like you don't know what I'm talking about. How long have we been doing this now? How many years have we danced this dance?" He took another step forward and you'd only realized, just now, that there was nowhere else to go. The closer he got, the more you had to bend your neck back to look at him. Was he always this broad and imposing?

"I know you," he continued, peering down at you, only a few inches from you now. "I know your ins and your outs. I know what you sound like when you're happy or when you're all sad and angry at me. Or..." He looked over you, finding the gown that you had haphazardly thrown on earlier to be quite...transparent. His smile turned into a smirk. He didn’t need to say it. You knew.

A breeze whirled between the overwhelming heat of your bodies, caressing the front of your gown, prompting your nipples to peak against the thin fabric. It was him; he was always the wind. An unnatural current of air that moved around you, against you. It shouldn't have been possible, but nothing was impossible for him. He knew you knew this. He tended to use that to his advantage, and sometimes it worked.

Another inhale, and you could feel a bit lightheadedness coming over you. Breathing should have made this easier. It did not.

Without knowing it, he was unraveling you, seam by seam. You could feel it.

There was no more fighting it.

"You always do this," you tell him, shaking your head. "You think you can say a few words to turn me on. Touch me a certain way and smile at me, and suddenly things are back to being okay between us. That's not going to work this time, Aang. I'm sorry but its not and maybe, that's how things should be for us."

You moved past him to go inside when you felt his hand close around your wrist, pulling you back. With a stumble, the front of your body collided into his. He searched your eyes for a moment, letting you stand in a pocket of silence before he spoke again.

"And what if I don't want things to be like this between us? I mean, I know I was gone for a while but I'm here, aren't I?"

He thought that he understood you. He thought that he knew you better than you knew yourself but again, he was wrong. How could he not see this part of you? A part of you that had been there, all along. Did he not know you the way that he thought?

“You don’t get it,” you let out a humorless sigh, struggling to process what you were hearing. “I was so worried about you, Aang. Do you know what it’s like to be so far apart from you and to not know whether you’re okay or not? I know you can always take care of yourself but I also know you’re not invincible. You like to make these rash decisions that put you in the most dangerous situations. So, not hearing from you for months and for you to just show up, out of the blue, thinking a bit of humor and soft touches just…fixes things?”

Aang’s hold on you tightened rather than loosening to let you go. It wasn’t like you were fighting him but you grounded him, even when you looked at him like he’d said or done something completely unforgivable.

Well…maybe he did.

In fact, the time that he’d spent not writing to you was time that he took to focus on his mission. He figured that the less time he spent on constantly writing to you and worrying you with every single detail that was going on, the more time that he would have to get what he needed on the Denied. The sooner he could return back home to you. Except…it would seem that no matter what decision he’d made at the time, it would’ve still been the wrong one.

Why couldn’t you see that? Why couldn't you understand that what he'd done, he'd done for you?

“So you’re saying that this is my fault?"

Your eyes widened in the reflection of his whirling grey ones, feeling your skin prickle as gooseflesh settled over it. The air around you whistled through the tension between you and him as if it was preparing for its final curtain call.

The ridiculousness of his question froze you.

Even the way that he was looking at you. Gone was the boyish gleam in his eyes and the soft touch of his arms around you. In its place were hardened eyes and rigidness in the palms of his hands. He did not release you nor did you look away.

“You say that like it’s a question.”

“Yeah, because it is.”

Your eyebrows furrowed with the hitch in your chest.

Breathing had never felt so agonizing.

“I don’t understand–”

“Yeah. I know. Me neither."

Finally, his arms dropped back to his sides and when he pulled away from you, it should’ve brought you a sense of relief. It did not. It only made you feel colder than you already were.

Calling him the Avatar…

You’d never done that before. In fact, he held nothing but memories of you seeing him as just your husband. He found that he didn’t like it. Not when it came from you, someone he loved more than anyone in the entire world and was comforted by knowing that when he came home, he could just be himself. Just Aang, without the weight of the world sitting heavy on his shoulders as the Avatar.

Aang sighed, and turned to face the railing of the balcony, eyes hard-set on the night covered city. His hands rested on the wood, gripping it until the whites of his knuckles pressed taut against his skin.

“Out there, I am suffocated by the world and its expectations for me. I know I’m not like other people. I have a duty, a responsibility to all of the nations to be this symbol of peace and be a protector of it but sometimes… Sometimes I regret ever being found in that iceberg.”

Despite the frantic thoughts that consumed you and screamed at you to say something, you forced it all back and chose to remain silent.

The lantern light stretched across his back, illuminating the tension coiled through his shoulders. The smooth but ripped skin moved against tendon as he let his head drop, and closed his eyes to let his body expel some of the tension that hid between the grooves of his shoulders and spine.

“I am tired, my love. So very tired and I have not even fulfilled half of what is expected of me.”

Finally you felt the pull to willingly move towards him, but your feet stayed planted where they were. He looked as worn down as he'd sounded. His slouched form, the bags underneath his eyes and the weight of responsibility that still sat on his shoulders. It almost made you feel bad for how you were acting. Almost.

“Aang,” his head turned to your direction but he did not look at you. It was enough. “I know the duty, as the bridge of both worlds, comes with a lot of weight." He winced, knowing what you really wanted to say. "I know that most days, you just want to spend them looking for more airbender relics at the air temples, but you have to think about the people. The world. They need you–”

“Why do you sound like Katara?”

You stopped, and blinked.

“What?”

Aang let out a heavier sigh this time, then fully turned back around to you, his dark brows knitted together.

“You sound just like her. I mean, what’s next? You’re going to tell me that I’m the Avatar? You don’t think I know that by now?” He asked you, gesturing a hand across the length of his body to point out the obvious. There was a new fire stirring in his eyes now, something you didn’t often see. He looked like he, too, was unraveling. “And what’s up with you calling me that anyway? Avatar. You never see me as just that so what’s changed? Is my absence the reason?”

He was talking too fast, saying too much. You couldn’t keep up.

He clenched a hand around the railing behind him, if only to steady himself. There was a storm brewing in those grey eyes of his. Fires that looked like it would take more power than you had to put out.

Maybe it had something to do with the way he was getting all defensive that made you finally snap back.

“Don’t pull that shit with me, Aang.”

Your chest heaved with each passing word, feeling the sting behind your nose and eyes. You didn’t want to get all emotional, but fuck it.

“You’re a hypocrite. You’re a fucking hypocrite and I’m sick of it. I know the things that you think but won’t say. At least, not to my face. How selfish I am with you. How I don’t care enough about the people, the cause. How I’m not supportive enough of you. Now I give you just that and what? Suddenly I’m a different person? That's bullshit, and you know it.”

For a moment, Aang allowed you to fill up the space with your anger instead of his. He practiced great strength in his patience and a certain level of understanding when it came to you. Usually, it was why things stayed good between the two of you. Naturally, there were differences. That came with the territory of being different people from different backgrounds.

Even so, he hated when things got like this between you and him.

“Don’t talk like that with me,” his tone was stern and curt, but still had that brush of calm that you tended to love about him. Except, this time, it was like the flood gates had opened. You couldn’t stop, even if you truly wanted to.

“I’ll talk to you however I want. You don’t own me, Aang.”

When you stepped closer to him, it was like you could physically see the way he was trying to hold himself back from reacting. His knuckles went white again and the dip in his brows deepened.

“This entire marriage with you has been so confusing. It’s been full of emotions that I never knew I had to prepare myself for. Had I known…” Your eyes fell away from his. “Maybe I would’ve… maybe I wouldn’t have…”

Before you could even think about how to finish that sentence, Aang was on you. One hand flew to your jaw, curling a few fingers under your chin to pull your gaze back onto his while the other hand tugged at your hip, pulling you against him.

Once again, you were suffocating in the aroma of everything that made Aang who he was to you. The scents were comforting, but it did nothing to thaw the ice corroding your heart now that you were forced to look at him.

Aang towered over you with ease, his back slightly curved and his wide yet still darkened eyes never left yours. He should’ve backed down. He should’ve let you speak, but knowing what you were about to say… It would’ve broken him into a million pieces. He would have much rather died than hear anything like that come from you. Easily.

“What is this, this fight in you? Where is this coming from? You’ve never been this angry with me. Have I really been gone that long?”

Your face twisted like there was something foul on your tongue.

“Why do you still not understand? This isn’t about the stupid mission–”

“Okay, then tell me.”

He searched your eyes again, frantically, hoping that he would find his answer there. No matter what, it was as if you'd closed him off. Not even through your eyes could he see what you were thinking. Another pang in his chest.

Your vision of him began to blur. When did you start crying?

“I think…I think I lo…” It felt like a rock was lodged in your throat. You swallowed what you could down, and breathed. "I think I love you too much, Aang, and that’s the problem. Katara was trying to tell me–”

“I knew it.” His face fell into a hard line, if that was even possible.

You sighed, shaking your head in his hold. “No, she was trying to help me–”

“Help ruin this marriage? Yeah, I’m sure she was just trying to help.”

With that, he started to pull away. This time, you were the one to pull him back.

“When did you start villainizing her?”

Aang glanced at you before dropping his eyes to the floor. The flex in his jaw was fluctuating now, as if it was trying to weigh what was morally right and what was wrong. Usually, he could keep a handle on his thoughts before speaking. It was easier that way because it kept him from saying something he knew he would regret.

If only he'd done that now.

“Since she started meddling in our marriage.” He peeked back at you from the corner of his eyes, frowning again. “Filling your little head up with crazy ideas and these…” He shook his head. “All of these misconceptions.” He looked away again, finding a new outlet for his anger and confusion. “I knew she wasn’t over it. I just had a feeling.”

At the mention of old wounds, you gripped at his arm, not realizing how your nails dug into his skin. He was too deep in his own thoughts to even notice.

“Are you serious?” At that, he met your eyes again and saw how he had made things worse for himself. “She’s your friend. How could you say that about her? And she’s engaged, for spirits’ sake!” His eyes flinched at your tone, feeling his heart drop. “Or did you forget that too?”

Aang knew he always had this way about him. How he tended to stuff his foot in his mouth, and didn’t realize it was there until it was too late to take it out. He’d messed up. Being gone without reaching back out to you in those few months was now the very least of his worries.

You let him go and ran a hand over your face, trying to reel your emotions back in before you also said something that you knew you would regret.

“Maybe we should head inside, and get to bed. It’s late. You just got home. I don’t want to fight any more than we already have.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Forget it,” you waved it off, letting out another sigh before you turned your back to him. “I’m tired. I just want to sleep.”

Aang’s shoulders deflated. All of the anger that he’d felt moments ago had dissipated into thin air. His body felt numb with too many emotions to place but the one that he couldn’t ignore was knowing that he had hurt you more than he ever had.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. He was meant to surprise you, pull you into his arms and kiss you until sleep took over. He never wanted to fight with you, but this was worse than a fight wasn’t it?

Was the marriage itself on its last and final thread? How could he fix things from here or was it too late?

He should’ve let you walk through those doors. He should’ve let you retire for the night. He’d caused you enough hurt, it was understandable, but Aang started to realize another thing about himself.

He found it hard to watch you walk away from him.

As soon as you started to walk away, you heard a low thump. Worried that Aang had jetted off for the night, possibly off to sleep somewhere that wasn’t right next to you, your body swiveled around with your lips prepared to call out for him when you saw it. Saw him.

Your eyes lowered.

His knees were pressed into the floor, his head hung low and his hands were loosely balled into fists on his thighs. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. He looked defeated, like there was nothing else he could say to fix this between you and him.

So, he figured that the next best thing was to beg.

“Baby… Forgive me… I was out of line. Way out of line.”

His voice was so low, it was almost hard to hear him. You stood standing where you were, your arms by your side. You felt your heart melt in the worst way. He’d never done this before. Well, not in this sort of situation, at least. A man as powerful as him had decided that it was best to meet you on his knees rather than let his bruised ego get in the way.

All you could see was the dark blue arrow that led to his forehead. From his raspy tone, being on his knees and knowing that he was silently giving you back your power—it stirred something inappropriate between your thighs.

Inappropriate because was this really the time for this?

“I’m an asshole. I know that, and I haven’t been all that fair to you. I know that, too. As my wife, you understand what it means to stand by my side through the toughest of times and I love you for that but I have not really seen it through your eyes. I know it’s hard being the Avatar’s wife.”

He sighed to himself.

“Not to mention the fact that I kept telling myself that if I stayed focused on the mission, I’d get home faster. I'll admit, it was the wrong call and I realize that now. I stayed gone for months, and you got nothing. I…I understand how you felt.”

You sucked in a slow breath, and held it as you let him continue to speak.

“You want to be selfish but because you’re so kind, you feel guilty for it. Maybe…maybe Katara was right,” you watched the way his hands tightened back into fists. “You don’t know this but she’d once told me that I was holding you back. That you would be freer if I stopped being so selfish by keeping you here. She thought of you as a caged bird and I’ll be honest,” he let out a humorless laugh. “That broke me.”

And it broke something within you.

Katara never acted nor spoke as if she saw your marriage in such a way. She was the most honest person that you knew. Why would she say something like that?

“Aang,” you interrupted, unable to keep yourself from asking. “When was this?”

His eyes looked off to the side, the moonlight catching them in its cool light, bringing out a gleam similar to that of a moonstone.

“After our last fight.”

Ah. So that was it. The fight after he had returned from that mission at the border in the fire nation. Sure, the argument was bad but you never thought it was that bad.

“So you went to her.”

It wasn’t a question. It was just an observation.

Aang’s head shot up to look at you. He looked ready to get back on his feet and crowd you again, but held himself back. His breath hitched.

“Yes. I did, but only because she’s your closest friend here. I wanted to know if I was truly in the wrong and if so, how to fix it.”

The abrupt silence carried with the wind, allowing you the opportunity to think. It wasn’t worth getting upset over, especially when it was a thing of the past. Plus, Katara was close to everyone. She was Aang’s confidant before you. It made sense that they stayed close enough to still confide in one another so that wasn’t the issue. Well, if there was one to harbor on.

Katara was also nothing but supportive of you and Aang. She was there when you two met, when you started to gain feelings for each other, when you started courting and finally, at your marriage ceremony. It sounded like she had been trying to look out for you and your wellbeing. Though, it wasn't exactly necessary considering you were more than happy with Aang and all of his shenanigans.

Maybe a conversation with her was in order...

Be that as it may, you didn’t care about any of that. You only cared about you and him. That was it. Nothing else mattered.

Slowly, you made your way over to him. When you bent down, you grabbed one of his hands and pulled him back up. When he towered over you again with that softened yet hopeful look in his big grey eyes, you took the chance to pinch one of his big ears.

“Ow!” He instantly pouted, and held a hand to his injured ear. “What was that for?”

There it was. That expression on his face that always did make him look several years younger. He grumbled under his breath, trying to massage away the temporary pain while you let out a snort that easily turned into a laugh. He stopped, and looked at you.

Your laugh was like several bells to his ears. Or, ear. The other one was still throbbing so not much was going through that one but it made his heart jump all the same.

When you’d noticed the familiar light back in his eyes, you felt your own sting with tears again.

“I’m not a caged bird, Aang, and you’re not holding me back. At all. I’m here and with you in this marriage because I want to be. I saw a lifetime with you, and I still do. Yes, it hurts when you have to leave for long periods of time. It hurts when you don’t write for months and leave me waiting and thinking the worst. And yet, I’m still here.”

You raised a hand to his face, sliding a gentle thumb across the apple of his cheek, melting at the realization that you could survive this. That the only reason you’d fought with him was because you never allowed yourself to feel how you felt. It wasn’t going anywhere. You still wanted him to yourself but, at the same time, you were capable of sharing him with the world. You’d realized that there was room within you to do both and in a very healthy way.

He didn’t say anything. He let you continue.

A smile made its way to your lips.

“Maybe I can…travel with you? I know you’ve always said it’s too dangerous and that you don’t want to risk anything happening to me but you know I can fight. I can hold my own. I won’t get in the way. That way I can be right next to you and not a thousand miles away. I want adventure with you, Aang. I want to be with you and never be apart unless–”

For the first time in months, when his lips descended onto yours, you could feel yourself breathe. It was as if he’d given you life and built a new way to inhale, knowing that he was there and always would be. It was what your body had been craving. So, you let yourself finally let go of all the hurt and the pain that came with missing your husband and melted into his touch.

There was nothing more that needed to be said between you and him. Aang understood you completely now. You loved him and with that came the longing of wanting to be by his side more than be in a home that would never be able to replace him.

He could do that. He could take you with him wherever he went because no matter what, he would keep you safe. That had been his only fear and reason why he never wanted to take you with him. But, you were not some helpless damsel that constantly needed protecting. He’d forgotten how well you could take care of yourself too.

For a brief second, he pulled back and looked into your eyes, finding nothing but pure love and devotion staring back at him.

He hummed, and pressed his forehead to yours.

“You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I will never leave you alone again. You go where I go and if I have to leave you back here at home, I promise to write to you every single day. If I slip up, I give you full permission to yell and scream at me as much as you want, yeah?”

A giggle bubbled up as you shook your head, “you are going to be the death of me, you know that?”

Aang released a drawn out whine, and traveled his hands down your sides to your hips. He gripped your waist, giving you a look that said more than what he’d said next,

“In more ways than one.”

He reclaimed your lips, pushing his tongue past the softness of yours the moment you tried to say his name. It fell into a whisper and the wind took it, secretly manipulated by him bending the air around you, pulling you closer until it felt like you were molding into one. This is what he would spend his long nights dreaming of. Being able to hold you, to feel you, to kiss you. To hear your sighs, to feel your smile against his lips and to know that with you, he was whole again. To know that he was not alone, and could be no one but himself.

“Aang…not here,” you mumbled, feeling him spread kisses from the corner of your mouth to your cheek.

You felt a rumble in his chest, finding a faint smirk on his face.

“You sure? I think anyone would feel honoured to watch how the Avatar fucks his pretty little wife. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Your body shivered at the feeling of his fingers drawing your gown up from your thighs, moving around enough so that he'd grazed the lower end of your spine. His lips were on your neck now, suckling and kissing, knowing how easily you bruised. He’d leave as many as possible, just enough to make them hard to fully cover.

Perhaps he had a point. The thought of letting him take you here, on the balcony where anyone might come out on their own in the middle of the night and see the two of you, caused a bigger ache between your thighs than you wanted. Or maybe not having his hands on you for the past few months just made you too desperate to say no to any of his outlandish ideas.

Except, he knew that you knew that was not true.

When you felt him playfully bite at your shoulder, you squealed and pushed at his chest with widened eyes.

“Did you just…bite me?”

Aang said nothing at first. He merely grinned like some rebellious teenager, raising an eyebrow.

“What? Didn’t like it? Where’s all that fight from earlier, huh?”

He reached out and curled a finger around a strand of your hair. He licked his lips, observing the way your breath quickened. It would seem that you were just as needy and as desperate as him. And spirits, if that didn’t turn him on in the worst way.

His hand dropped to your collarbone, sliding his fingers down until they met the edge of your gown that dipped in the front. Slowly, he tugged until he could see more of your cleavage and almost groaned. You made him feel so depraved. Like a rabid, starving man eager to devour. Only you could make him this way. Turn and corrupt him into wanting you more than he’d ever wanted anything else in his life. Nothing could come close to being with you. Simply being near you, in your presence, made him want to be on his knees, serving you in every way imaginable.

You didn’t have to look. You could feel his knuckles skim the side of your breast, your body reacting almost instantly. His throat dried at the sight of your nipple peaking, almost like it was reaching out to him, begging him to touch.

“Aang…”

Your voice was like honey to his ears, so deliciously sinful. It nearly took the power of his past lives to get him to look at you without ripping your flimsy little gown off and taking you against the railing.

“Where?” he asked you, his voice low and broken, barely trusting himself to say much. Else, he feared he would growl at his weakening restraint. “You said not here, so where?”

Aang prayed to whoever was listening that you wouldn’t say the bedroom. He knew himself. He could feel it. The savage within him wouldn’t let him let you make it that far. It had to be somewhere close but comfortable for you because if it was left up to him, he would have you up against the nearest wall and fuck you that way. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger, just let him do all of the work.

His cock stirred.

Restraint.

Before he let his hand drop back down, you grabbed it and smiled.

“Come.”

And he almost did...until he realized that you’d meant for him to follow you instead.

Yeah, well. He could do that too.

Watching you turn and slowly pull him back inside, his eyes glued to the dip in your hips and the arch of your back, made him fully aware of just how much he could actually see through your gown. How it clung to you like a second skin, and moved with the gentle cadence of your steps. Especially when you passed through the warm glow of a few lit candles on the way in. Had those been lit before?

Truthfully, as much as he loved your body, it was how you'd reached for him as if you didn't need to think twice. As if it was your way of telling him that he had nothing left to fear. That you were silently choosing him all over again. It gave him the confirmation that he needed. That he hadn't failed you or this marriage.

That thought brought a certain warmth and haziness to his eyes. It was all he wanted. He hated fighting with you, but he’d misunderstood your feelings. You were only trying to convey that you'd missed him. He just didn't realize how much.

The moment you were about to cross the hearth, he grabbed you by the waist and captured your lips, groaning right into your opened mouth. He didn’t want to think about any of that right now. If anything, he used the long wait of seeing you as his pillar and reason.

He had to have you. There was no waiting to get to the bedroom. He'd waited long enough.

It felt like he was everywhere. The way his tongue brushed against yours, the feel of his hands digging into your waist and how you had to stand on your toes just to stay connected. Your hands moved over the strong ridges of his abdomen and up to his chest, sighing against his lips.

The love that you felt for him went beyond the limitations of the heart. Everything in you, even down to your spirit, knew that Aang was always going to be the one. The only one that could make you laugh, cry and love, all in the same breath.

He was simply and utterly perfection personified.

The kiss deepened, and you could feel it. You could feel the desperation, the longing that had taken place in your absence. How, not being near you, affected him just as much as you. He moved against you like wind brushing over water. Fluidly, purposefully, tracing his fingers up and down your spine to the base where they could spread over the round of your ass.

"Fuck,” he swore under his breath. His rough, raspy voice against your lips almost made you collapse.

He kissed from the corner of your lips to your jaw, down to your neck where he resumed leaving behind a few marks. He didn't want to hurt you but the thought of leaving darkened spots across your pretty skin spoke to him in a way that it shouldn't have. He imagined you failing to fully cover them and someone noticing. Would they be horrified? Concerned?

He smiled to himself.

He couldn’t wait.

Oh, and the noises, the sounds that you were making...

Truth be told, you were going to be the one to kill him in the end. And if this was to be his fate, then he gladly welcomed it with open arms.

"Aang, please," you pleaded, almost pushing him over the edge.

Still, he always did like how pretty you begged.

"Please what?" he asked you, still nipping and sucking at your neck, one of his hands moving to the front of your gown. His knuckles brushed just above the heat between your thighs, sending a chill through your body.

You gasped, and buried your face into his chest, hearing how steady his heartbeat was. He seemed calm, despite how he was making you feel. You just had no idea how close to breaking he actually was.

Months of being without him made your body miss him in ways you didn’t think were possible. It was sensitive to every touch and every breath, keening at the attention it craved for. It made you want to let go and completely fall apart in his arms.

“Touch me,” you breathed and as pathetic as it may have sounded, it didn’t stop you. “Need you touch me.”

“I am touching you, sweet girl,” he said into your skin, smiling softly, eyes closed. “What, you want more?” He felt you nod, and hummed to himself. “My greedy, greedy wife.”

When his lips found yours again, everything around you faded and blurred away into the background. It was easy to get lost in him, in all that he was. With you, in this moment, he was no longer the Avatar. He wasn’t the dependable friend nor was he the savior of Republic City; of the entire world. With you, he had no responsibilities. No one and nothing. He was just your husband, your Aang.

He didn’t rush. He took his time with you, reaching to cup your face and mold himself to you. He felt you quiver, whine and hold him like you would’ve fallen to pieces if not. He kissed you until you felt your head spin. Until he made you feel like you were somewhere else and not in a world where you had to share him. Until you felt your knees touch the soft rug in front of the hearth, and Aang hovering on top of you, his tattooed hands next to your head. Even the sound of the rain waned until there was nothing but the sound of his breath chasing after yours.

With you flat on your back now, Aang could really get a good look at you. Your cheeks were warm, and your lips were kiss-swollen. Part of your gown had slipped down, revealing your skin shimmering with a glow that made his heart squeeze. The mark on your neck was blooming steadily. You wore it beautifully, the gleam in your eyes telling him that you were proud of it even. His chest ached with so much love and warmth, he could hardly contain it.

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on.”

It was true. He’d met plenty of women, but none held a candle to you. They weren’t worthy comparisons in the slightest. Sure, they held their own unique beauty but you were above that. Everywhere you went, you had a luminescent light about you that made you look so angelic. You also loved with the entirety of your heart, giving away bits of you without caring about what was left. You loved and cared openly, without regard. That made you different, special.

He felt like the luckiest man in the entire fucking world.

As he looked you over, his eyes landed on the jewelry around your neck. He traced a finger along the necklace at your throat. He’d made it for you a while ago; smooth mountain bone carved with an Air Nomad wind swirl, reclaimed glider wood fitted beneath it and tiny bronze pieces. It was meant to mimic the prayer chimes you’d found in the air temple long ago.

Simple, invaluable and perfect, like you. It was also meant to remind you that he would always be with you, even if he couldn’t physically be there. He knew it was not to replace him. Only to keep you company when you felt at your lowest and missed him.

As he stared down at it, he pictured you holding it at random points of the day and crying into it at night. He wondered if you ever took it off even though you’d sworn to him that you never would.

You couldn’t help but catch the distant look in his eyes as he fiddled with the necklace.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked in a soft tone, a hand of yours coming up to brush over the corded bracelet you’d made for him that was wrapped around his wrist.

Pieces of both of you given to each other during the wedding ceremony so many moons ago. While his gift felt like it’d held much more meaning, yours was done through several long and frustrating days. You’d weaved and corded it yourself, despite Katara’s several attempts to help. As much as you could’ve used it, you wanted your gift to be handmade. It felt more special that way but there was nothing truly significant about it.

It was plain cord in a tightly woven fashion. At the time, it felt right because Aang was very simplistic and held no interest over materialistic things. As an air nomad, he was taught not to place value on wealth, extravagance and certain possessions. Thankfully, he didn’t reject your gift but looking at it in the same light that he was looking at his…

“Have you taken this off since I’ve been gone?”

Your eyes widened a bit. “No. Why?”

Aang swallowed, and licked his dry lips.

“Not even once? Not even when I failed to write or you thought that I was never coming back?”

The only reason you’d noticed that his eyes were back on you was because you were already staring at him.

You held eye contact and said, “No. Not even then. Not even when I cursed your name and cried some nights. I held onto it knowing that you would return because you always do.”

The level of faith and adoration that you had in him did something to him that he wouldn’t dare voice out loud. He knew this love for you would be his ruin. It was becoming unhealthy and maddening.

If you loved him, he loved you more. If you put him on some sort of pedestal, then you were the center of his universe and reason for existing. He’d went from believing that his purpose was to the people, to the world as their Avatar. That is, until he met you.

Since then, each breath that he took was for you.

Without you, he was nothing. A ghost walking the earth in service of others, but not living. No, not how he lives for you.

You are the deity in his eyes. The goddess that he prays to on nights that he can spend on his knees, worshipping you from between your thighs. You are his greatest gift, and the greatest weapon to his own destruction. And yet, he did this. He created this. He’d given you all of the power needed to end him because what was a greater tragedy than dying at the hands of someone he loved more than life itself?

“Aang…” your voice brought him back, feeling your hand against his cheek. Subconsciously, he leaned into your warmth and closed his eyes.

You’d always known what his love for you meant and where it came from. Despite the fact that it had happened over a decade ago, Aang was clearly not healed from the tragedy of losing his people. He’d spent years trying to accept it and move on, but you knew the worst of it. It showed through the restless nights full of nightmares, how protective he was of you and how he loved you.

It didn’t concern you the way it did Katara because you understood and accepted that it would always be a part of him. Granted, you didn’t want him to fall into darker places. Yet, instead, you did your best to gently guide him back. If not to remind him that you were not his only reason to live. You reminded him that he needed to come first before you, always.

“You love me so much, I know you do, but don’t let it blind you from what truly matters which is you. I ground you, yes, but you are the epitome of balance within yourself. When you fight, fight for you the way you fight for me. And when you love, love you the way you love me.”

Aang listened because you were right. It was so easy to fall into that place that he held special, just for you. If he let himself think too deeply about where this attachment to you started, he could almost feel the edges of his mind begin to close in on itself. Except, that was where you came in. You quieted the loud thoughts and the burning feeling in his chest that echoed all that he’d lost.

You kept him sane, but he needed to remember that he existed not just for you and the people but for himself too. That he could love you and love himself just as much, at the same time.

“I’ll be better, I promise.”

He turned his head, and placed a kiss to your palm. Another, then another until he held your hand in his, spreading kisses to your wrist before you found him hovering back over you. The way the fire from the hearth danced within the moonstones of his eyes, making them darker than they normally were, it made your stomach curl in want.

“Better,” you breathed and wet your lips, ignoring the way his gaze followed the tip of your tongue. “The way you say that, it’s almost as if—”

“It’s for me, but if I don’t live at least half of my life for you then I don’t know if I could at all.”

Aang parted your thighs with his knee, dropping his eyes down to your chest. He watched as it moved with each passing breath, feeling his mouth water at the sight.

“Earlier…” he started as he leaned down to mouth at your collarbone. “–you told me to touch you. Tell me where.”

He slotted his lengthy body right between your legs, holding himself up to not crush you under his weight but just enough to keep you from feeling how hard he’d been for the past several minutes. Not like he could hide it but the semi dark atmosphere was working a bit in his favor.

His lips moved to your sternum, and ghosted over a nipple. It reacted like he’d hoped it would, reaching out for him again.

Not hearing anything, he glanced up at you and purred against the softness of your breast.

“Can’t touch you if I don’t know where to start, pretty.”

“Aang,” you almost reprimanded, frowning down at him. He figured that you were meant to look a bit more menacing than you did, and it almost made him laugh. You were so cute.

He used the tip of his tongue to swipe up against your nipple. It was warm, warmer than normal and you knew exactly why. It caused you to gasp sharply and wail out his name again, but in a higher pitch. He chuckled.

“You’re not saying anything so I’m going to assume that you’re ready to turn it in for the nigh—”

“Oh, don’t you dare.”

The look you gave him now could’ve stoked the flames next to him. That is, if you were a fire bender. Still, you were a woman of many talents. Talents that he was eager to exploit.

“Then…?” he asked, moving down until his chest met the lower half of your stomach, chin placed perfectly between your breasts. His eyes glimmered with a sudden innocence, nothing like how they were before, and his lips were poked out into a pout.

Your eye almost twitched.

What a little performer.

“I’ve waited months for this, Aang. Just touch me. I don’t care how. Or I’ll just do it without you. Maybe I'll even have you watch this time.”

If nothing else, that got his attention.

Aang’s face paled and fell into a hard line. Before you could protest, your gown was torn into jagged lines, right down the front. It laid in tatters around you, torn apart and utterly unsalvageable. He didn’t meet your widened eyes or the shocked look on your face at all.

Instead, he cupped his hand around one of your breast and closed his mouth over the eager nipple. You let out a long moan, letting your head fall back against the rug underneath you. As if everything about him wasn’t big enough, his tongue covered all that it needed to, not missing a spot.

His throaty sounds of approval made your head spin, yet again, feeling your legs twitch with the urge to close. Except, he was positioned perfectly in between them, keeping them wide open.

When he’d switched to the second bud and used his fingers to tweak and pull at the other, you could’ve cried. Your body didn’t know how to react. It’d been so long, way too long since it felt the touch of another that wasn’t yours. It knew him. It knew his touch like a familiar feeling embedded inside, coded by his hand. Pitifully sensitive and so reactive.

And Aang loved it.

Making you feel good felt like it was a part of his dna. He couldn’t imagine doing anything else.

Once he’d heard the mutterings of you telling him that you wanted more, he moved further south until he was met with your bare cunt.

He placed a palm just above it and used his thumb to raise as much of you as he could, staring directly at your clit now. It looked terribly swollen and shiny with your own arousal. He felt himself twitch in his pants.

Spirits, if you weren’t going to send him straight to the spirit world early.

He heard you mewl and saw your hips move up, using your body to beg for more this time. He smirked to himself before looking up at you. Like he figured, you refused to look back. Instead, you covered your face with your hands, mumbling about how he should stop staring and get on with it.

“Tell me, have you touched yourself since I’ve been gone?”

When you peeked back down at him, his eyes were back at your clit, massaging around it. He was still refusing to fully touch you, and it started to annoy you.

“Why does that matter? You’re here now. You can touch me—”

“Yeah, but…” Aang stopped what he was doing completely, and maneuvered his arms under your thighs to place your legs on his shoulders. Then, he kissed at the insides of your thighs, smiling into your skin. “Humor me. I wanna know.”

Looking down and watching him give attention to all but where you needed it most made you inwardly sigh. Humor him, he’d said. Fine.

“I did.”

He glanced up at you, clearly amused.

“When.”

“…that night. The same day that you left for the mission.”

A pause. A very long pause, in fact.

“Spirits,” he groaned out your name into your skin, grounding himself with a deep breath. “You’re going to kill me.”

Your clit throbbed.

“Why?”

He took a few seconds to respond, and it was not what you were expecting him to say.

“Because I did too.”

He could practically feel your eyes burning a hole through him, silently wanting him to further explain.

He trailed his lips down your inner thigh until you felt his warm breath just above your weeping cunt.

“After traveling for hours, I stopped at a point and made camp. Leaving you was hard,” he closed his eyes for a moment, reliving the memory. “It’s always the hardest thing I do so, of course, I started to miss you. I didn’t want to trust my dreams to give me what I wanted so I took it instead.”

The way he said that made your legs twitch, and your throat dry.

“When Appa and Momo finally fell asleep, I took a walk. Just to clear my head, you know? Walks usually help me sleep better. Though…” he sighed. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Thoughts of missing you turned into missing your voice, what you were doing, what you were wearing…or not wearing.”

Your breath quickened, knowing exactly where this was going. The mental image that your mind began to paint nearly lit your body on fire.

“I stopped at a tree and just…” he opened his eyes, and saw how hazy yours was. The greys of his darkened considerably. “Well. I’m sure you can imagine what happened next.”

The thought of him getting desperate enough to just…do that in the middle of wherever he was while thinking about you around the same time that you were touching yourself thinking about him…

You couldn’t bare another moment of talking about the past. He was here, seconds away from eating you out. You refused to use that time talking about what was when it could be what is.

“Aang, please stop talking. Touch me or I’m actually going to lose my mind.”

He stopped giving you thigh kisses, his eyes finding yours again, letting his lips curve up into another smirk.

“Yes ma’am,” and focused all of his attention exactly where you needed him the moment he’d laid you down and got into position.

As soon as he covered your clit with his mouth, your back arched and you let out a moan that made him groan right against you. He’d thought about this more times than he could count. Shameless thoughts of him pleasuring you, just like this, and pulling the prettiest sounds from you. Night after night, he laid awake, watching it play over and over. As the days turned into weeks, it only got worse. You made it hard to focus on anything else.

Much like now.

Your fingers plunged into the rug, holding it like it was anchoring you. It was overstimulating. The feel of a hot, slick pressure between your thighs, pressing along your clit, lazily dipping between your sticky folds, parting them for better access. Euphoria, pure bliss rushed through you, coaxing a broken moan that barely made it past your lips when you felt his tongue snake along the slit of your cunt.

"Ah, Aang!"

And the sounds, the slurping and the groaning... He was definitely doing it on purpose. What a little shit.

His name falling from your lips made him grin to himself as he suctioned his lips back around your throbbing clit. He knew that you could come from just this, but he wanted to take it a step further.

Aang let one of your thighs rest completely on his shoulder and traveled his fingers down to your slippery, twitching hole. He teased them up and down, hearing you beg and plead, before pushing a digit inside. His middle finger curled, earning a gasp from you. He hummed into the mess of you, instinctively aware of how to navigate through the warm tightness of your cunt. He'd done this several times, but it always felt like the first. Always felt like a starved-man, unable to get enough of you.

And fuck, if you didn’t taste like the sweetest thing he’s ever had the pleasure of eating.

You wailed and cried out for him, wanting more but not sure what more you could want when it felt like he was giving you too much.

He lapped at you with his tongue and sucked, alternating, as he added another finger. Except, this time he made sure both were warm where you would feel it, just like you'd felt the unnatural heat of his tongue moments ago.

Your body was well on the edge, feeling his pace quicken. He didn't stop, not even when you started to beg all pretty. Once he found that spongey spot inside of you, he aimed for it with each thrust of his fingers and fed on your swollen clit until he could hear your breath hitch and your moans get higher in pitch.

He nodded against you, groaning, "Like that, baby. Doin' so good for me."

"Aang!" you cried out again. "I can't!" he continued as he guided you through it.

"You can, love. You're so close," He said in a husky tone, brows furrowed, and still nose deep in you. "Let me feel it. Let me hear it. Please."

And that was all that it took.

He heard your breath stutter, and felt your walls tighten and flutter around his fingers before the squelching sounds turned into a steady drip of arousal. You'd practically coated his entire hand in it, leaving behind a wet, creamy mess. Your hips jerked, thighs quivering, nearly trapping his head there until you inhaled and exhaled.

For a moment, you didn't move and neither did he. As he cleaned you up with his tongue, you twitched but didn't say a word. You just stared up at the ceiling, your skin clad with sweat and warm with heat from the hearth. The thought of doing this and more here in front of the crackling flame no longer felt like a good idea. It felt like your body was on fire as it came down from its high. There was no way you were going to be able to focus if you didn't move elsewhere.

"Aang..." You called out for him, trying to use your fingers to get his attention. They brushed over his cheekbone then to his jaw. When you looked down, he was just coming up. A smile broke out across your face, your own cheeks warming and not from the heat of the fire. "You are so messy."

He chuckled, and rose to half of his height, settling himself properly between your legs again. He smoothed his hands down your thighs and held your gaze.

"So are you."

And well, he wasn’t wrong. You could feel a warm breeze glide between you and him, making you groan and rest your head back on the rug. From the stickiness, the heat and the way Aang continued to stroke and grip at your legs only made you want more. You’d already admitted to him how selfish you were. Why not raise the bar a bit more?

“Let’s move to the bed. I’m hot and this rug isn’t as comfortable as I was hoping it would be,” you mumbled, letting him tug you up until you were nearly face to face. He was so tall, even on his knees he was still looking down at you. Infuriating, but a turn on nonetheless.

Aang stood up first, and reached out for you to take his hands. You did but you looked down and back up at him.

“Carry me?”

He smiled, and tilted his head.

“Why? Can’t stand on your own?”

Normally, he would’ve just done what you asked but he couldn’t help but tease you. You made it too easy.

Your face fell into a scowl, playfully rolling your eyes.

“Fine. I’ll walk then.”

He hummed. “Poor thing. C’mere.” He bent down and like he would with a child, picked you up from under your arms and held you against him, feeling your arms secure themselves around his neck. Once he’d made sure your legs were also secured around his waist, he kissed your cheek and started walking towards the bedroom. “Such a baby.”

You half-smiled to yourself, looking elsewhere.

“Yeah, your baby.”

“Mhm.”

With Aang’s long legs, it didn’t take him but a few long strides to reach the room. Instead of putting you down, he turned and sat on the edge of the bed, still keeping your legs locked around his waist. Straddling him now, he dropped his arms from your hips and leaned back on his hands, eyeing you down. The intensity in his eyes made your arms loosen but not drop completely. Just lax, staring at him back.

“What?”

He didn’t say anything at first, just continued to look at you. Now that he’d had you fully naked and could see every part of you clearly, there was nothing keeping him from ogling you. Beautiful from head to toe. He just didn’t deserve you. He truly didn’t. And yet, you were made for him. You fit perfectly, in every way of the word.

He was just so happy that you’d chosen him to spend the rest of your life with. It wasn’t because he was the Avatar. No, you’d fallen in love with him as Aang, and that made his heart melt. Even to this day. He just couldn’t imagine what his life would’ve been like without you in it.

Just so completely over the moon in love with you.

You brought him back by trailing your fingers across his face, lightly pinching at his cheek.

“You spend way too much time in here,” you tapped at his temple, making him smile again. “What are you thinking about? Hopefully me.”

Cheeky, he thought before he inhaled and suddenly wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning up. His nose brushed yours, earning a giggle from you. But not wrong.

“Yes, you, beautiful girl.” He glanced at your lips, pecking them once then twice. He thumbed at your spine, “always you.”

You fought back a smile, biting at your lip.

“I’ve missed you. A lot.”

“And I’ve missed you so much more.”

The moment felt so perfect, it made you wonder if you were dreaming again. You couldn't help but remember what it had been like for you with him gone. Mentally, it was torture. So, to think that this too was nothing but a dream... Was it really that far-fetched?

But maybe it was the way Aang breathed, the feel of his chest against yours and that familiar glimmer in his eyes that promised you this was no dream. That he was truly here, right in front of you. Kissing you, touching you, and the whisperings of how much he'd missed you. It wasn't in your head. Not his voice, not his scent. Not even the way he filled up the space with his radiance, as faded from exhaustion as it was. It was still him. Your Aang.

"Now you're doing the thinking," you heard him say, feeling him press his forehead against yours.

Your lips split into a small grin, briefly closing your eyes.

"Sorry. Remind me to never think about you again."

Aang snorted. "Hah hah."

You snorted also and broke out into a chuckle, your eyes deep into his. "Seriously though. I know you're tired, but I really wanna...you know..."

"Mm," he took in a breath, ghosting his lips over yours and sliding his hands up and down your sides. "I may be the master of all four elements but I don't think I have the ability to read minds. Especially yours."

You stared at him back, and made a face. He grinned, and kissed you. You didn't hesitate to reciprocate it. A hand of yours nearly made its way to the nape of his neck to pull him closer when you broke apart, still giving him a look.

"Don't distract me."

"Awh, and it almost worked."

"What do you mean especially mine? Are you saying that you wouldn’t be able to read mine? Saying I have a big head or something?"

Aang deeply chuckled at that as he moved his lips to your forehead, laying a gentle kiss there, "No, but since we're on the subject–”

"Goodnight."

"Nooo, I'm joking," he whined, tightening his hold on you the moment that he felt you trying to pull away. You rolled your eyes, trying to keep back a smile. "Stayy."

“Why? So you can bully me some more?”

A bit distracted now, Aang kissed at the corner of your mouth before running the tip of his tongue along the seam of lips, not asking but taking. You let him nudge his tongue in and move against yours. He wasn’t even kissing you and you were already aching and wet again.

You let out a weak moan that was practically a whine, trying to lean in for more. When he’d slapped an ass cheek, you gasped and pulled back in shock.

Aang smirked, “don’t give me that look. You’re being bratty now. It’s not very nice so why should I be?”

Your lips formed a pout.

“Well…I’m sorry. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

He shrugged. “Good.”

“Enough?”

“No.”

“Ugh,” you pulled away from his lap and stood, sighing to yourself.

He leaned back on his hands and watched you again. The burning feel of his eyes on you made your body react as if he’d still had his hands on you. It was maddening. He was maddening.

“Baby,” he called for you in that sweet tone of his that he knew always worked on you. “Come back. You were saying something earlier. Was it about continuing what we were doing in the other room?”

You started to pull on another gown as you answered him over your shoulder.

“Earlier? That was like 30 seconds ago, grandpa.”

Aang groaned, “So mean to me,” and fell the rest of the way, now flat on the bed and staring up at the ceiling.

He didn’t say anything at first so you continued to dress, silently wishing the heat from the hearth could reach all the way to the bedroom. Then again, the upper floor of your home had more space than the others. Which meant it took longer for it to get cool and warm at times.

Once your new gown was lazily tied at the hip, you turned and just…stared. Aang’s eyes were closed. You knew that he wasn’t sleeping just yet, but the lax of his face… It made him look like he was. From the dark fullness of his brows, to the slope of his nose and finally to the soft of his lips that were parted. His chest sunk and rose steadily, his body still as if he was at peace in the silence.

As your eyes drifted lower, you couldn’t help but notice how well defined he was. Years and years of evasive combat training, honing his endurance in stamina and breath control as well as conditioning his mobility to perfect aerial techniques. It came from immense focus and strength that was learned, not necessarily taught.

Aang understood that better than anyone. Despite the fact that he was the Avatar, he learned early on that life was never meant to be handed to him. So he earned it, and perfected himself by doing it all on his own. Once he’d become comfortable with using all four elements, he trained in three until they became as familiar as air bending.

Toned, disciplined and strengthened by all of his hard work truly did pay off, just not in the way he had intended it to.

Honestly, it was completely unfair.

The quiet rise and fall of his chest drew your attention lower, expanding and tracing over defined muscle that was softened only slightly by exhaustion. Even after months of being away, his body still carried that same dangerous balance of gentleness and strength that always managed to unravel you far too easily.

There was not a single part of him built for stillness; not truly. Even laid across the bed in silence, he looked capable of movement at any given moment, like the wind itself rested beneath his skin.

And it did because spirits.

Maybe it was the lanternlight. Maybe it was the relief of having him home and alive where you could finally touch him again, but looking at him now made warmth pool low in your stomach in a way that almost annoyed you.

Because this was Aang.

Your Aang.

The same man that had frustrated you to tears only an hour ago now had you standing there in nothing but a thin gown while your thoughts betrayed you in the most depraved of ways.

You looked at him with a hunger that felt insatiable. Like the moment on the rug moments ago had only lit the fire within you, not put it out.

Slowly and quietly, you crept back up to the bed. You were trying to be stealthy, much like a shirshu. They were patient hunters, and earned their prey by tracking silently while being unsettlingly precise. However, the moment your knee dipped into the mattress, hands found your waist and within half of a breath, you were on your back with a real predator hovering over you.

Did he just airbend—?

Aang’s eyes roamed over your fluttering chest, moving them up to your lips and finally to the surprised gleam in your eyes.

A giggle bubbled from your throat, “You could’ve let me think I had that one.”

“Sorry pretty,” he leaned down and skimmed his nose along the column of your neck. “Maybe next time.”

Giving you a single kiss right at the center, Aang pulled back and was on his feet now. He peered down at you, noticing the new gown that you were wearing. He frowned before pouting, but he didn’t comment. Instead, his tattooed hands glided down your calves until his fingers closed around your ankles. Both of you shared a knowing look before he pulled you right up against his pelvis, helping you lock your legs at his waist.

“Aang—”

“Do you still want more?”

His question caught you off guard, but went right to your aching cunt nonetheless. His arousal felt hard and prominent against you, throbbing with the promise of ruining you. You didn’t dare look down. You knew what you would see. You could feel it.

“Yes.”

His deft fingers languidly pulled at the strings that kept your gown closed, and watched it fall apart to reveal your body to him once again. He caught the groan before it left his throat, opting to clench his jaw instead. The want to be inside of you ruled over his body’s need to sleep away the exhaustion of his long journey back home, back to you. He’d tasted you. Now, he wanted to feel you.

“So beautiful….” He bent down and twisted a bit to the side to spread kisses along your navel and up to valley of your breasts. “So mine…”

Aang reached a hand up to gently twist and tug at a nipple, earning a blissful sigh from you that sounded heavenly through the fog of his mind. He didn’t stop to let you breathe. He shifted his hips so that he could grind his erection directly against the bareness of your cunt, fully aware that it would sully the pants he had on. All for the better, really. The more transparent the fabric became, the closer he felt to you. He could bet all of the moon peaches in the world that you were just as warm and as wet as his mind conjured during the nights he’d spent alone.

He’d felt it earlier when he had his fingers inside you but he was smart enough to know that there was a difference between using his fingers and using something far more sensitive and connecting.

“Ahh, Aang,” you whined near his ear as his lips traveled back up to your neck.

He felt the tip of his arousal snag at your clit, causing him to push his face into your skin, hissing and gripping at your breast. He knew he could end the torturing of all this but there was just something so pathetic and primal about rutting against you like this. Perhaps it was also a result of his hazy mind and exhaustion creeping back in. Or maybe it had something to do with how you sounded whenever his length passed through the soaked folds of your pretty cunt.

Yeah. It was probably that, actually.

Though, as much as he enjoyed the thought of turning your brain into mush from a mere grinding session, he wanted something far more rewarding.

“Hold on,” he told you before pulling himself back. Quicker than he was trying to, he’d shucked off his pants and kicked them somewhere in the dark to be dealt with later.

During the brief intermission, you’d decided to move further up in bed, closer to the wooden headboard. The bed was big enough to comfortably fit several people in it so it was a bit funny when you thought back to the reason it was made this size.

Aang hadn’t always been so tall so his growth spurt shocked everyone. Somewhere along the way, a twin sized bed no longer seemed appropriate. He would always complain about his aching back or the way his legs would practically hang off of the ends. By that point, it was time to upsize.

You didn’t remove your gown completely. You just pulled it up your thighs to rest openly at your waist so that when Aang finally resettled in the valley of them, there was finally nothing that stood between you and him.

Except, when he did join you in bed, he’d noticed that you were a bit too far up and as he rested further down, he tilted his head. You recognized the look in his eyes, and felt your stomach jolt.

“Aang—ah!”

He bended the wind between his palms and your ankles, letting the current pull you down exactly where he needed you. His smirk met your flushed pout.

“Perfect.”

You rolled your eyes, wanting to look away. “Show off.”

The heavy weight of his cock settled painfully present against your cunt, oozing strings of precum that made you hyper aware of how badly he wanted you. Well, that wasn’t the only sign. From his chest up to his face, his skin was flushed. Even through the dark cover of the room, you could see the neediness in his eyes. A swirling grey that quietly confessed how much he’d truly longed for this moment. By the looks of him, you couldn’t even imagine how he was able to survive all of that time away from you.

“Better?” You asked him, feeling him twitch against you.

He simply nodded, lips parted, before wrapping a hand around himself. His eyes dropped down to look at how wet you were while you watched him. Slow, leisure strokes that made the muscles in his arm flex and the veins atop his hand push against his skin. Your mouth salivated, noticing the crease in his brows as he used his other hand to spread your folds apart. Sticky and shiny, and so fucking pretty.

He groaned and tightened his hand at the base of his length, letting out a slow deep breath. When he peeked back up at you, his heart almost stopped.

The way you were still watching him, a hand at your breast gripping and pulling at the sensitive bud with your bottom lip stuck between your teeth—

He must’ve died long before he came back home. This was it, his own little oasis in the spirit world.

Nothing in the entire world could compare to this moment.

And he meant nothing.

“Aang…”

He felt you before he heard you, the softness of your hand brushing his cheek. When his vision reorientated back on you, he saw the gentle smile on your face.

“I’m right here,” you said to him in the same soft way you touched him, grounding him again. “I’m real and here.”

Aang felt you pull at his wrist, tugging him down until the tip of his nose pressed against yours. His hands found themselves caging you, being careful to hold most of his weight. You tilted your head and ghosted your lips over his.

“My perfect husband,” you whispered, his back rippling with shivers that he tried to hide but couldn't. As your hands moved over his shoulders and along his back, you’d felt it. “So good to me…so perfect for me…”

When the tips of your fingers trickled down the line of his spine, he let out a whine that made you clench around nothing. It didn't sound like anything you'd heard from him before and maybe that was due to the time that the two of you had to spend apart. Two months had been the longest, and definitely the hardest. You'd felt the strain of it on your end but realizing what it must have been like for Aang, a man that loved beyond the limitations of the air nomadic ways; it was surely just as painful as a loss.

You'd cried many nights for the spirits to bring your husband back home safe and had the support of Katara during it all, but Aang had dealt with the torment alone.

There was still that lingering tension underneath his skin that he'd made sure to hide well from you but you could feel it; could feel him unraveling. You could tell that he was no longer able to keep it buried inside and away from you.

"Please," he begged you, leaving a trail of kisses from your collarbone to your ear. "Need to be inside you. Please."

And who were you to deny him when you needed him just as badly?

"I think you've kept me waiting long enough," you told him as you reached down the small space between your bodies. Once your fingers wrapped around him, his breath trembled as if he was going to fall to pieces before making it the rest of the way.

He gripped at the pillows underneath you, grinding his teeth together. He was fighting to hold it together. He'd wanted this moment to last, but could feel himself unthreading.

The moment you lined the head of his cock up to your twitching cunt, your hands moved to the curve of his ass and started to push him into you. He gasped into your neck, and groaned when the tip of his cock popped past the first ring of muscle. He shook his head in pure disbelief. You'd felt better than he'd remembered. It almost made him delirious.

Aang swore under his breath, feeling you push him in further. Clenching onto him the minute he split you apart, it almost sent him over the edge.

"If you knew what you felt like being wrapped around me like this," he breathed near your ear, "you'd lose your mind too."

"I know baby, I know," you kissed his cheek and jaw, feeling him fill you up until the fullness of him was all that you could feel. “And you’re doing such a good job…”

There was no escaping him now. No where for you to run or hide. He had you fully pressed into the mattress, arms blocking you in and his cock sunk so deep, it made you move your hands back up to the broadness of his back to help anchor you.

"Mmm, aang, you feel so good inside me," you wrapped your legs around his waist, moaning at how snug he felt. It felt so right, so perfect, you almost didn't want him to move but knew that if he didn't, he wasn't going to last long at all.

Once every inch of him was inside, he took in a breath while you exhaled. You allowed him the time he needed to ground himself before watching him lean up. Your eyes had gotten used to the dark and could see the concentrated look on his face as he moved his hands to your hips. His eyes dropped down to where the both of you were connected, and finally breathed out.

Everything about you drove him insane. Even when you’d finally given yourself to him, every single part of you, he still couldn’t get enough. He needed more of you. He wanted to push his body into yours until he was able to combine your souls into one. Claim your entire essence and being as his, marked forever as the one that saved him from himself.

You were his beaming light amongst the black ocean of his heart.

Where he was once drowning under the weight of all of his responsibilities, you saw him and pulled him out of it. How else could he thank you? Being your perfect-imperfect husband didn’t seem like enough. He wished to pull the stars down from the night sky and hand them all to you because you deserve something no one on earth could give you. Something only he was capable of giving you.

What was that? What was the very thing he could give? Something he hadn’t already given you?

It had to be none other than a promise, a proper promise that he would have to keep for as long as he lived.

He just didn’t realize that he’d known it all along. Known it since he’d made his vow to you the day of the wedding.

You could tell that something was on his mind but you didn’t pressure to ask. Instead, you waited.

Then, his eyes finally found yours again and held your gaze as he said,

“I want to make you a promise. A real one.”

You blinked, and slowly nodded.

“Yeah, okay. What promise?”

Aang’s brows furrowed as he mulled over what he wanted to say, and how he wanted to say it.

It took what felt like minutes before he said anything else, and it was not like anything you had expected him to say.

“I may not be able to promise that the world won’t need me again because it will. It always does, but I can promise that you’ll never have to wait in silence like that again.”

His thumbs rubbed across the skin of your waist, his eyes hard set on yours.

“And no matter where I go, I’ll always find my way back to you.”

Aang knew that he didn’t need to make you that promise, especially considering the conversation from earlier where there was finally a mutual understanding of how both of you felt. Even so, he could recognize how much he has truly hurt you. It wasn’t this one instance but for all of the others in the past. He wanted to make up for it all in a single promise that he vowed to never break.

You were rendered speechless. His wedding vows had been a bit different, vowing that he would always be by your side and would always put you first before any and everything, but not like this.

At the time, Aang did not foresee his duties as the Avatar and founder of Republic City getting in the way of his marriage, but he saw it now and only wanted to reassure you that you would be his true priority; that it was possible to love you and hold the world on his shoulders by doing it together.

He could see it, the tears that started to well up in your eyes and quickly shushed you, leaning down to press his lips against your forehead while holding your face. Your eyes fluttered closed, as his lips moved over each of your eyelids and to your nose.

“Don’t cry, not for this,” he whispered, kissing your cheeks now. “Because this promise to you cannot and will not be broken. Even when I’m long gone, I'll keep it. I promise…”

Your heart sunk hearing him talk like that. Just the thought of it…

“Please, Aang, don’t say that…” You sniffled, holding him back into your arms. This time, with no intention of letting him go. “You’re not allowed to go anywhere, do you hear me? Nowhere but here with me.”

“I know,” he breathed against your lips, staring back at you while using a thumb to wipe at the falling tears. “I just love you so much.”

You could see it in his eyes, the love and the utter devotion that he held for you that was unlike anything you had ever felt from someone. He looked at you like you were all that he could see.

And that was all that you could ever ask for.

“I love you so much more,” your lips pressed against his lips gently, sighing into it, feeling him return it eagerly.

He instinctively began to move his hips, rolling into you without rush but with purpose. The slow drag of his thick cock made you whimper into his opened mouth, your fingers dipping into his back.

He grunted, trailing his lips to your cheek, breathing heavily as he fucked into you deeper. Every inch, every part of you felt like pure bliss, a maze that he wanted to willingly get lost in. He didn’t care about anything else but this, you, being inside you and hearing your pretty moans. The way his name rolled off of your tongue, gasping and holding onto him like you were close to falling apart.

You were going to ruin him.

He bit down into his lip, frowning, as he reached up to hold the headboard above you. Something, anything that could keep him from losing his mind early on because he was close, dangerously close.

He kept his hand locked onto the wooden board, bracing his hulking frame as he began drilling into you with a rhythmic, punishing vigor. Every thrust was deep, deliberate and fueled by the weeks of loneliness and longing he had carried in his soul. He wasn't just fucking you. He was trying to merge with you, to bridge the gap that the distance had created between your bodies.

Aang groaned when he felt your cunt tighten around him and your hips move to match his pace.

“Fuck,” he moaned as his cock drove into you harder and faster, chasing more of you.

You choked out a sob, crying into his shoulder, your body jostling with every deliberate pound into your poor cunt he made.

“O-h, Aang! You’re so good, feel so fucking good inside of me!”

More of your begging, your nails sinking into his back, your cries and the feeling of you sucking him in with each thrust.

Call him a greedy bastard, but he wanted it all.

His movements were reckless, the bed creaking violently against the floor with every heavy impact of his hips against yours. His breath came in ragged, uneven hitches and his sweat slicked skin slid against yours, creating a feverish heat.

“Aang!” You sobbed hearing the sloppy squelch of your cunt with each unforgiving snap of his hips, feeling him directly hit that spongey spot inside of you like he was drawn to it.

He bent and kissed down until his lips found one of your perked nipples, sucking and rolling his tongue around the hard bud until he felt you shake and spill out the most prettiest moans he’d ever heard from you.

Aang was losing himself in you, and didn’t notice when his tattoos began to glow a bright blue hue. For you, it was all that you could see.

With his head lowered, you could see the arrow along his skin flickering until it was stable and illuminating, growing brighter with each ragged breath and slam of his hips against yours. His eyes were closed but you knew that those beautiful greys of his had been taken over by the same blue light.

He was terrifying to most in his avatar state but to you, he’d never looked more beautiful.

The headboard creaked under the sheer weight of his hold as he fucked you, the poor wood wailing and threatening to break under the pressure. He let out a broken groan around your skin before raising his head, his voice sounding a bit off. It sounded overlapped with more than one voice but it was still him. Desperate and filled with an overwhelming need to come as deep inside of you as humanely possible.

Your hands moved from his back to his face, holding him with care to get his attention. When he finally opened his eyes again, all you could see was an endless pool of blue. His brows were furrowed, and his forehead was beaded with sweat.

“Are you close?” All he was able to do was nod, nearly collapsing into your hands, his hips stuttering to signal that he was getting incredibly close. “Good, because I’m going to need you to cum and not pull out. Can you do that for me?”

Even through the haze of pleasure, Aang still made an expression of confusion.

“Don’t...pull out. So you want me to…?”

He left it there, knowing that you understood what he didn’t say.

You smiled, and nodded.

“Yes. Can you?”

Aang didn’t quite understand. Every time that the two of you had sex, you always made it clear he had to pull out. Pouting, he agreed but was never shy about telling you that he didn’t like it. If a baby happened, then wasn’t it meant to be? There was no better way to prevent a pregnancy, other than a certain type of tea, so pulling out was next best. Either way, Aang was not a fan but respected your boundaries nevertheless. Now, you were wanting him to…

"Wanna give you a little airbender, Aang. Would you like that?" You breathlessly asked him, feeling his hips falter at the sound of that. You smiled, stroking a thumb across his warm face. "Would be such a good mommy. Could give you everything you could ever want. Let me do it for you, Aang, please."

And that fucking did it.

Your voice, the feeling of your heated walls clamping down onto him, and you giving him permission to fill you up knowing what might happen; all of it sent him right over the edge.

He groaned out, applying more pressure to the headboard than he had intended and felt it split down the middle. The bed collapsed underneath you, surprising you but you weren't given time to assess what happened when Aang leaned down to bury his face into your neck. You felt his cock twitch and pulsate before filling you up until the mix of his thick cum and your arousal oozed out between you. His hands clutched into fists around the sheets as he tried to control his breathing.

You thought that he was done but his hips hadn't stopped. They just slowed to a steady roll, deep and intentional.

"Aang..." You whined under your breath, your arms wrapped loosely around his neck. Your body was nearly exhausted, but you weren't there yet. Could that be his reason?

He didn't say anything. He just kept moving inside of you, kissing at your neck. He shivered, feeling the way your cunt fluttered around him as your calves slid back into place, ankles firmly locked. He hummed, one of his hands sliding down your side until they reached your thighs to grip at them.

“Want you to cum around me,” he muttered low into the warmth of your neck, lazily smiling. “Can you do that for me?”

When he looked at you, you’d noticed that his greys were back and the arrows along his forehead and his back had dimmed back to their normal blue. It made your face warm.

“Yes.”

“Good girl,” he praised, and used his arm to hold himself up while his other hand continued its trek down to your neglected clit. “And don’t think I forgot about her.”

As soon as his middle finger started to draw lazy circles before gradually moving a bit faster while letting his hips roll into you at the same pace, you squealed. You hand instantly reached down to hold onto his wrist as he abused the sensitive little nub, crying out.

“Ah, please!”

Aang was embarrassed to admit but aiming for your pleasure instead of his and watching your face twist up knowing that he was the reason, it made him ten times harder. There was nothing better than servicing you and making you feel good. It was just the simple fact that he had already came.

But who said he couldn’t do it again?

No matter how many times he did this with you, it would always feel like the first. There was just something about being with you in such an intimate way and connecting beyond a conversation or doing anything else together. He was very spiritual and believed that sex was a very sacred act. It was something he would never do with anyone else. Doing this with you, with his wife, felt like the highest form of his love for you.

When he felt your nails dig into the skin of his wrist and your cunt tighten around his cock again, he let out a ragged breath that was mixed with a laugh.

“You’re so tight, it feels like you’re going to cut off the circulation down there.”

You whined out his name, breathless, trying not to laugh at his untimely joke.

“Stop.”

“I’m being serious,” he said, letting another chuckle before groaning out and looking down at you. “Gonna cum, my love?”

You nodded with teary eyes, moving your hand up to his bicep, feeling it flex under your fingers.

“Mhm.”

“Yeah?”

“Aang—”

“Let me feel it.”

He leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours, eyebrows knitted together, fighting to concentrate.

“Please, let me feel it…”

You moaned out his name again and again, your head spinning, being unable to feel anything but his cock fucking into you and his fingers moving against your clit like it was his last day on earth. His whisperings of telling you how pretty you sounded and how much he loved you was all too much. You couldn’t handle it.

With one more sharp inhale and slam into your hips, your back arched and felt a wave of ecstasy crash into you, leaving you trembling and mumbling a string of nonsense that made Aang follow right behind you. You were too warm, too tight, his release spilled into you again, plugged and just as filled as the first.

Both of you stayed just like that, foreheads together and panting into each other as the comfortable silence of the night finally took over.

After a few moments of him trying to catch his breath, he smiled softly and kissed your nose.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, hm?”

You were relieved when he moved off of the bed and walked towards the washroom because your entire body refused to move even an inch. In fact, you were very close to falling asleep if not for the warm, damp feeling of a cloth against your inner thighs and over your mound. He knew your legs were going to instinctively twitch closed so he used his hands to keep them pried apart until he finally finished up.

After properly discarding the small towel, he scooped you into his arms so that he could work on the bed.

At first, it took him a moment. Now that he was able to actually see the bed from a different angle, the headboard lowered the bed quite unevenly. The damage wasn’t bad at all, it would just take a few minutes to brainstorm how to fix it. It was definitely going to be a temporary fix, but he knew it would hold long enough for a good night’s sleep.

Still, the idea of him as the avatar, master of all four elements, being humbled by a broken headboard after wrecking it with his wife—it definitely felt like a very comical irony.

But, someone had to do it so, he got to work.

Aang knew that the only way to go about this was to use air to reposition the splintered pieces back into place, or as close as he could, and then smooth some of the rough cracks. Luckily, it wasn’t completely split down the middle so it was fixable. He just knew that come morning, he would need to fully replace the bed.

Once that was done, he moved onto what was next.

As he held you with one arm and replaced the bedding with his other, you couldn’t help but stare up at him. You knew that he knew you were looking at him, judging by the small grin on his face, but he didn’t say anything and neither did you. You just watched him impressively use one arm to do things that would normally take two to do.

Once the bed was replaced with clean linen and warm blankets, Aang gently placed you back down, joining you now. He shifted onto his back and pulled you into him by your waist. You hummed, curving a leg up and over his thighs, your hand across his chest.

The silence continued and just when you were about to fall asleep, you heard the softness of his voice.

“Three days from now, I’ll be leaving again.”

Because it was engrained in your body, your first reaction was your stomach dropping. Still, you calmed your breathing and chose not to say anything. You remembered what he’d said to you earlier. His words on the balcony, his promise to you now, they all meant something. He wouldn’t do that only to lie to you, so you breathed.

Aang could tell that it had shaken you, telling by the stiffness of your body against his. He smiled a bit to himself before his eyes fell down to the crown of your head.

“And I want you to come with me.”

Your head shot up, meeting the playful glint in his eyes. Your heart skipped a beat.

“Do you really?”

His hand, that rested at your hip, stroked along your skin, his gaze holding yours.

“I made a promise to you, right?”

He placed a warm kiss to your forehead, making your face split into a smile also.

“I know…but hey! Don’t say that like you have to tag me along!” You pouted.

“I’m not, I swear!” He exclaimed with a brighter smile and laugh that shook his shoulders. “I want you to come with me. I want to travel the skies with you, scour and gather more airbender relics and maybe stop at different places just for the fun of it. Maybe help people along the way, but I want to do all of those things with you by my side this time.”

“Even if it gets dangerous?”

Aang paused for a moment and just looked at you. There was a tiny worry that he was taking the silence to rethink his decision to bring you along when he spoke again.

“You can handle yourself. I know that and when you can’t, I’ll be there to protect you. No matter what we face, we’ll face it together.”

It felt like your heart had crawled out of its hiding hole somewhere in your stomach and had soared right through your chest. It was all that you’d wanted to hear from him. To be able to still love him as deeply as you did and to be able to accept him for who he was to the people of the nations—it was the perfect middle ground. There was never a need to ‘fix’ you or him.

Instead, balance was all you ever needed and you knew you would always find that with him.

Your eyes fell to his lips and back up to the shining grey of his eyes.

“I love you.”

His hand moved from your hip to the nape of your neck, gently pulling you closer.

“And I love you.”

When your lips met, it was softer this time; slower. The kind of kiss that carried understanding within it rather than desperation.

You and Aang knew that there would still be difficult days ahead. That there would be arguments, distance and that familiar sense of fear that came with being the wife of the Avatar. Loving Aang would never come without sacrifice and being loved by you would always leave parts of him frighteningly exposed.

But this—this felt like balance.

Like finally meeting one another in the middle after spending so much time pulling at opposite ends.

And somehow, within the quiet warmth of his mouth against yours and the steady hand cradling the back of your neck, tomorrow no longer felt so frightening.

It felt like a promise for a new beginning.

༄ ... mini bonus scene ! ... ༄ 

The next day was spent making up for lost time.

Which basically means you and Aang barely left the bedroom to eat or even drink water.

Still, despite the time that you'd spent with him, you made sure not to forget about your visit with Katara the next day after that.

When you and Aang arrived, Sokka had answered the door and was happy to see you but as soon as he saw Aang, he'd nearly tackled his taller friend to the ground.

"You're back?! I had no idea you were back!" Sokka exclaimed with a wide smile that instantly turned into a frown, playfully hitting Aang's shoulder.

"Ow?" Aang rose a brow, rubbing his arm with a smile back.

"Don't 'ow' me! You could've let your best friend know you were back all this time, sheesh," Sokka shook his head, scratching his neck. "Some friend you are."

Katara came up next to her brother, and pinched at his ear like they were teens all over again.

"Leave Aang alone. He came back like, two days ago. What are you on about?"

"Sokka," You heard Suki whine in the background. "Give the poor guy a break. He did just come back."

Sokka sweatdropped, looking at the four of you before his eyes stopped on you. He smirked, and fully leaned against the door frame.

"Oh, did he now," He nodded, looking as if he knew something no one else did. "Yep, bet he did come."

Aang's eyes widened and so did yours. That was all Sokka could get out before Katara took him and his ear further into the house, giving him a real good talking to. He'd looked to Suki to help him, claiming that just because they were married, she had to protect him. She only smiled, and continued helping Zuko.

Both of you laughed and stepped inside, seeing Zuko setting up the last part of a banner that said, 'Welcome home, Aang.'

"Aw, guys," Aang pouted at the banner and his friends. "You shouldn't have!"

"Yeah, well, we almost didn't, twinkletoes," Toph grumbled rather loudly to herself, digging her pinky deep off into her ear. "I told them its a complete waste of time. You'll only end up knocking it to the-"

Before she could finish her sentence, Aang used his airbending to bring the gaang all together for a group hug, causing the banner to fly right off of the wooden beam it was expertly attached to. Toph, squeezed right between Sokka and Zuko huffed.

"-ground."

She sighed.

You couldn't help but smile as they all started to laugh, even Toph, catching her shake her head. Suki had her face squished into Sokka's, Katara had her arm around you and Zuko while Aang's long arms nearly wrapped around everyone.

As you melted into the group hug, you couldn't imagine being anywhere else in the world but with your husband and the best group of friends anyone could ever ask for.

༄ author’s end note: tysm for reading! don't forget to tell me your thoughts in the comments and leave a like/reblog! i would lovee to know what you guys think as this may not be my one and only piece of work in this fandom (wink, wink). time will tell... ~

→ taglist: @gyalcapone @llovekats @ladypickles @leefsfandombooknook @carlandoxlestappen @Lucamorax @ilovemollyweasley

he should’ve known that you only wanted to toy with him. he’d felt the intent in the heavy air of your summons hours ago, should’ve known from the — of it; that he was brought here solely for your amusement, the lord of a mighty nation reduced to a plaything at your absolute liberty. 

it all began when you first approached him that morning. he’d just emerged— well, more like escaped, from an endlessly grueling advisory meeting. a bundle of scrolls was gathered tightly in one large hand while the other palm dragged tiredly over his face. 

that’s when you swept by him, as graceful as the water you bend. you attached yourself to his side, arms looping securely around his bicep. even through the heavy drape of his robes, his arm was impressively thick, deliciously solid. you pressed flush against him, acutely aware of the broad, dense muscle packed beneath crimson silk — all that raw strength hidden under royal finery. 

zuko paused, his gaze dropping to meet yours beneath the shadowy fringe of his dark lashes. the faint curve of a rare smile reached his mouth, just as the tight ache in his shoulders melted away upon your touch. he shifted the scrolls to tuck his arm closer to yours, leaning heavily into the sweet, intoxicating draft of your perfume. more often than not, he’s completely yielding to you, letting your warmth drape over him. 

“are you here to rescue me, or do you simply wish to distract the fire lord?” he murmured, his voice a low, resonant rumble. you catch the embedded sound of something almost playful.

“oh please, dear. why can’t it be both?” you merely hummed, melting into the furnace that is his solid frame. you loved traversing the palace’s endless halls just to catch sight of your regal husband. what a magnificent vision of royalty he was — adorned in deep mahogany and gold, all broad and powerful with a presence so commanding. your mirthful eyes devoured his sharp, handsome features, tracing the stark border of his crimson scar, framed by rich dark hair that cascaded past his shoulder plates, spilling in silky waves all the way down his back. god, you loved him entirely. 

with a saccharine smile, you leaned up on your toes, pressing flush against the breadth of his chest while your soft lips grazed the sensitive shell of his good ear. "meet me in our bedchambers come nightfall," you cooed softly against his jaw, your voice dripping with sweet mischief while your fingers trailed down the rich silk of his sleeve. 

"i have a special . . . surprise for you, but only if you're a good fire-lord and finish attending to your duties first." 

zuko’s breath hitched, his arm tightening instinctively around your waist to keep you close. "a surprise?" he echoed, his voice dropping into a rough, low register that sent a thrill straight through you. "my love, I . . . you know I have a day's worth of scrolls to sign.” 

"then I suggest you read quickly, my lord.” you try to slip away, but he holds you fast, his fastened palm a tether too tight to break from. 

"wait — what do you have in store?" he murmured, a desperate curiosity bleeding into his low tone as his towering frame cast a shadow over yours; his mouth just barely grazing your own, catching the lifting tilt of your smile. 

"just come, silly," you countered softly, pressing a sweetly addictive kiss to melt the corners of his stubborn frown. "you’ll find out soon enough." was your breathed whisper against his warm skin, letting the words ghost over his angled jaw. you gave his bicep one last, lingering squeeze before stepping back out of his embrace, dreamily drifting away down the sunlit hall. 

behind you, zuko stood completely and utterly undone in the middle of the open corridor. the absolute master of fire, now left in a lovedrunk daze — his lips slightly parted, tinted with the residual paint of your favorite hue, while an involuntary flush bloomed rosy-pink across his pale cheeks. you deserted him there, a blushing king caught in the sweet wreckage of a simple kiss. 

vitalized by your promise of a surprise and eager to reunite with you once more, he’d spent the next handful of hours tearing through his duties with a fierce determination. he signed the scrolls required of him, and scattered the ones that only proved to be a waste of his limited time; the rest he bound in delicate thread and sealed with hot, red wax.

before finally abandoning his desk, he bound half of his long dark hair away from his face. zuko stood hunched over the basin, meticulously scrubbing every trace of black ink from the ulnar sides of his palms. he wanted his hands perfectly clean, for he knew he’d be touching you tonight— and thoroughly. 

. . .

a quiet tension blankets the northern palace, but still, you can hear your husband’s approach from the moment he crosses the threshold of the inner court. his heavy, looming footsteps echo down the polished red-lacquer corridors, drawing close, and closer, even closer; vibrating through the screen walls of your quarters until your chest thrums with the rhythm of his arrival. 

zuko walks with an agonizing anticipation, one he can barely hide. every step is a losing battle against the dull ache beneath his imperial belt, a demanding throb that’s grown unbearable after hours of sitting rigid at his oakwood desk. it’s been pooling low in his abdomen since he encountered you that morning — a shameful lust he’d tried to fight off with every scroll he signed. through the thick fabric of his robes, his palm now subtly shifts over the heavy silk, desperately rubbing at his growing bulge. 

inside the room, you're practically vibrating atop your embroidered stool, your heart hammering against your ribs as a manic energy buzzes beneath your skin. the soft rattle of the sliding track warns you that he’s here. with a sudden breath, you hastily force your posture to align into an image of serene normalcy just as the door slowly parts. 

zuko steps fully into the room, the heavy wooden door sliding shut behind him, sealing the two of you in a sudden, suffocating quiet. thick, electric air blankets the bedchamber, dense with the weight of all your unsaid promises. zuko stands by the threshold, his chest rising and falling beneath his heavy imperial pauldrons. 

you turn slightly on your carved rosewood stool, an eager gleam flashing in your vibrant eyes as your gaze rises to meet his in own the reflection of the bronze mirror — his golden eyes are lidded from the weight of the crown, darkened with a bone-deep exhaustion; yet they continue to burn with this fierce, ravenous hunger. in return, he catches the iridescent gleam in your own irises, bright as chilling polar ice. 

a knowing smile touches your freshly painted lips, eager azure eyes catching the way zuko’s throat bobs as his line of vision trails down to your body. he knows exactly what you’re wearing beneath that lengthy, translucent cerulean night robe; or rather, the lack thereof. the sheer silk flows effortlessly over your curves, much like the cresting liquid waves of your frozen home. he finds it to be a refreshing distinction from the stifling heat of his world. 

he’d touched the frosty surface of your shores almost two years ago, arriving by sovereign ship to the southwestern water tribe. you were a mere princess back then, watching enthusiastically from the shadows as he formally navigated talk of a peace pact with your mother and father, the chieftains of the west. you only knew of the fire-lord through word of mouth, but seeing him in person was ever so different. 

from the very moment you laid eyes on him, zuko's stark contrast to your world — honeyed eyes, shockingly fair skin, rugged scar, and vivid red clothes, had you completely enraptured. his domineering, yet calm presence drew you in without effort. you adored the helpless way he would flush a deep red whenever you giggled and waved at him, entirely undoing his rigid, royal posture. nevertheless, your flirting persisted, despite his sheepish reactions and your father’s protective concerns. 

one day, speaking up boldly from the back of an icy council room, you had ultimately proposed a much brighter solution for a unifying pact; a royal marriage.

much to his nation's surprise, the fire lord unexpectedly returned from those frozen lands with water-bending royalty in tow. after discovering your shared goals for your peoples, you and zuko chose to bridge your countries and cultures alike in holy matrimony. both your economies have flourished and cross-national peace has ensued ever since the royal coupling over half a year ago.

it’s been quite some time, but you still feel like newlyweds — and you surely consummate like ones. 

even now, living deep within a crimson palace and married to the master of fire himself, you fill zuko with a reverent awe. he loves how you wear your ancestral blues and carry your culture with such a dignified pride.

an ethereal woman you are, daughter of the ocean who chose to bind herself to a man of the flame. and looking at you now, dolling yourself up at your luxury vanity, content within his palace you truly made feel like a home, he's desperate for even a drop from your sea. 

your husband wordlessly, finally, draws near and closes the distance, enveloping you from behind in a sweltering embrace. his heavy, muscular arms are strewn effortlessly over your shoulders from where you sit. a soft smile blooms on your lips at his sudden presence, quiet giggles slipping past your mouth when he presses a warm, lingering kiss to your temple. 

through the glass of the mirror, zuko catches your reflection. his gold eyes soften, completely drinking you in; from your sweet smile, your intricately dark woven hair, to your warm skin and those crystalline eyes that sparkle like rare sapphires . . . you are, without question, the most breathtaking woman he’s ever known. he nuzzles closer, cheek touching yours until there's no remainder of space left between you, both of your gazes locked onto the beautifully reflected image of husband and wife. 

“said you had a surprise for me. is that right, my queen?” he coos against your jaw, though his arms tighten around you, all longing and possessive. you return an excited hum, eyes twinkling in the mirror.

“i certainly do! it’s in here . . . hm. well, somewhere,” you swivel towards the drawers of your rosewood vanity to rummage through cosmetic items he can’t even begin to name. he leans over to steal a peek, long dark hair swaying over his shoulder, but you catch him right in the act. 

zuko looks ever so precious with his golden eyes blown wide, large hands thrown out in absolute surrender. you almost begin to feel bad; he watches you with such hunger, wholly unassuming of the cruel games you have planned — how hopelessly you’re going to tease him into submission until the break of dawn. 

“no peeking, my lord!” you tease, a playful push against his bicep guiding him around. zuko complies with your touch and shuffles the other way, helpless against the subtle flutter of anticipation brewing low in his belly.

you turn back to your drawers and resume the search, rifling through perfume bottles and jewelry cushions of all sorts while your voice softens into sweet instruction. 

“you’ll have to do something for me, zuko.”

“please, my sweet . . . haven’t I already done what’s required of me?” he audibly groans, a breathless plea as he fights the growing urge to steal a glance. a quiet laugh escapes you at the rare, unguarded youthfulness he only ever reveals in your presence. a tender ache swells in your chest at how he allows his entire guard to drop in your hands. 

“those scrolls? please, my love. that’s what the nation requires of you,” you unceremoniously discard the contents of your drawer, sending a careless flurry of trinkets tumbling out into the open.

he swiftly dodges the chaotic rain of your belongings flying by. a jade hairclip cutting through the air, a heavy paddlebrush following close behind — and then, in a flash, the mesh slip of a red, translucent lace. a sudden memory hits him, forever seared into the deepest crook of his mind; him peeling that very pair off of you with his teeth just a fortnight ago . . . 

“what i expect from my husband is quite a bit different.” you lean into the word with a certain pride, making zuko’s heart skip a fierce, joyous beat. a wave of devotion washes over him; he's more than proud to bear that title for you, proud to hold you as his treasured, although entirely demanding, wife.

you've always been a particular woman, one of specific tastes, and it’s a beautiful puzzle zuko delights in solving. there's a secret, intoxicating thrill he gets in meeting your standards — to provide your every need, protect your joy with his life, deliver exactly what you desire and know he got it right.

he hangs on the silence between you, feeling the sudden shift the moment your breath catches in a soft, triumphant 'ah-hah! ' 

“zuko, my dear . . .” you sweetly begin, rising from your seat and keeping the mysterious surprise safely tucked behind your back. the long, elegant sway of your regal sleeves drapes around you like that of curtains, hiding it all the more. he sways sideways, trying to peer past the silk and catch a glimpse, but you tilt playfully and dance along with him — a brief, silly game you cut short with a soft command: 

“disrobe.” 

his single right brow lifts, a playful ember dancing in his golden eyes as he observes in your expression. he finds no hesitation. 

“you want me to . . . undress?”

“swiftly, please.” 

a rich laugh vibrates in his chest, tickled by the sudden authority in your voice. ever your willing subject, he begins to shed every heavy layer piece by piece; unpeeling his garments and letting the royal finery pool around his feet one by one. intimacy with you isn't something zuko shrinks from, no — he craves it, a sweet but rare indulgence that comes only in stolen hours between the endless distractions of ruling a proud and zealous empire.

your eyes glisten, lingering on the display as he unburdens his shoulders. the heavy pads drop, then he unties and parts his thick robes. zuko sheds the weight of the crown until he stands in nothing but simple trousers and a loose, unfastened vest of deep garnet lined with a gold-spun trim. his biceps knot and flex as his fingers catch the hem to pull his arms out the sleeves, and that’s just when your hand reaches out to stop him. 

“that’s more than enough. you’re doing good, zu. now, sit on the bed.” you take pleasure in his absolute obedience as he plops down at the edge of the frame, his weight sinking into the edge of the mattress. your voice drops to a teasing murmur as you deliver the final rule: 

“close your eyes — and don’t you open them!”

trapped in the dark and blind to your movements, zuko relies entirely on the sounds bleeding into his good ear; the whispered rustle of your airy clothes, the quiet scuffle of your feet as you slip into his blind spot. then comes a touch — a cool, frictionless material of some sort loops around his wrists before the tension pulls tight, his pulse jumping against the fabric as you knot the tail-end to the wooden bedpost. satisfied, you wind the red silk around him, binding him entirely to your whim. 

“okay, zuko. now you can look.” 

fluttered lids part to reveal his golden gaze, peering down as the world comes back into focus. a breath hitches in his throat at the sight of the rich crimson binding him to the frame.

reflexively, he gives a sharp, disbelieving tug at the fabric, a stunned laugh slipping past his parted lips. 

“what is this?” he breathes, his voice a bewildered rumble as he looks from the red silk up to you. 

“remember my dress fitting the other day, love?” 

“I, uh . . I believe so, yes?” zuko stammers, but his answer is more of a question within itself. a helpless flush stains his cheeks while his mind scrambles, wondering what on earth a simple fitting could possibly have to do with the trap of silk biting into his wrists. 

for months, the bitter court officials had bled their grievances into the palace halls, viewing your constant wearing of blue as a slap to the throne, an insult to the nation itself. you've heard their whispers; that your water-tribe attire is simply loud rebellion, a stain on the fire lord’s court. to appease the crown, you gave them their compromises — wearing their scarlet silks to grand meetings and vibrant festivals, but your daily wear remained with the colors of your home. 

when their nagging finally became too loud to ignore, you stepped into the fitting they had arranged, letting them attempt to mold you into a ‘ proper ’ fire-lady. under the cinch of their measuring tapes, you found a secret comfort knowing that zuko not only loved you, but worshipped the ground you walked on, irregardless of the threads on your back. if anything, he preferred the blue, captivated by your beautiful stubbornness they could never burn away. 

“so, they had the most dazzling assortment of silks, just marvelous. i saw such a rich shade of red, it shimmered like rubies . . . anyway, it reminded me of you! and, well, it obviously gave me other ideas.” 

a low, helpless chuckle rumbles in zuko's chest, his golden eyes crinkling with absolute adoration at your sudden rambling. even pinned to the bed frame, he's still entirely captive to the chaos of your charming thoughts, flattered to be the center of them.

“this,” he gestures towards his confines, his bicep tightening as he pulls experimentally against the silk, “is your idea?” a dark ember of amusement flares in his right eye, challenging your authority even as he willingly surrenders to it. 

“patience, husband,” you coo, rising to your feet to close the distance between you. “you’ll see.” you bring a thin strip of the same colored silk up to his face, gently drawing it across his brow. the fleeting warmth of your sweet smile is the last thing he catches before all his vision is stolen away — plunging his senses into a blotted world of unintelligible red. trapped in the thick, crimson dark, he settles into his restraints with a quiet sigh. 

. . .

that’s how the fire lord finds himself entirely bound — captured effortlessly by the one woman he would never, in his wildest dreams, desire to escape from.

around you, the grand bedchambers glow with traditional finery, bathed in shades of warm orange, pristine gold, and burning red. the drawn-open windows invite the moon’s silvered light to spill through flowing gossamer curtains, blessing your union of water and fire. 

but the gentle peace of the night dissolves the moment you shatter the quiet.

still bound to the frame of your shared bed, zuko tests the limits of his confines, a low groan escaping him as he tugs at the fiery crimson ribbon. a restless prisoner, he is, playing into the torment of your game — for a time. he always indulges his darling wife, but only for now. minutes long since passed; several long, countless ones. 

and the wait is finally managing to break him. he sits trembling on the edge of the mattress, staring up at you through a hazy, amber-yellow gaze; blindfold long since fallen, and his vest halfway discarded while it hangs over the round of one brawny shoulder. a teasing smile graces your lips as you lean in, catching his lifted chin with the delicate edge of your manicured finger to lock his eyes with yours. 

your sweet excuse for trapping his wrists had been that his crowned duties have left him far too tense; and what he desperately needed was to dissolve into your cool touch, even if he didn’t know it himself. but as your fingers drifted from the edge of his chin to settle heavily in his lap, the promise of relaxation shifted into the purest form of torment. the clock has fractured into an unmerciful blur. was it twenty minutes? thirty, forty? 

zuko loses all track and meaning of the time that follows. he can't tell, nor can he bring himself to care — not when you spend every agonizing second stroking his weeping cock so painfully slow. you know just when to alter your speed, bringing him to the absolute precipice just to rip it all away. 

it was pure torture when the red silk kept him blind to it; you know how much he loves the sight of his fat cock within your dainty hand, almost too thick for your fingers to touch around it. the last ruined orgasm had been paced so brutally fast, skin shlick-ing with every stroke. the wet, rhythmic sound of your hand jerking him off left dull, wet smacks filling the room until his body was twitching — and as he nearly arrived at his peak, the red satin eventually slipped down his face. when you finally locked eyes, he’d almost been crying . . . almost.

“hnghh, no, no, no, please— not again . . i beg you, my queen, just let me cum for you—fuck!” 

the words melt into a breathless plea as his pelvis strains upward, starving for even the slightest graze of your palm. his hips give a desperate involuntary buck, chasing the ghosting pleasure of your friction, but you hold the line; hand going completely still.

a dark, heavy whimper vibrates deep in zuko’s chest, a sound so beautifully broken it nearly falters your resolve. but not quite. his climax is ruined yet again, the fifth unmerciful theft of the night, and his entire frame shudders with a deep, aching fatigue as he reaches the absolute limit of your torment.

thanks to your doing, he’s now you in complete disarray — scattered hair falling wildly over his eyes, his sweat-sheen chest heaving with every ragged breath, powerful arms bound to the bedposts at the mercy of your every sinister whim. he can’t fucking stand being unable to touch you.

“i did what you asked,” zuko says bluntly, his voice clipped and raw. his amber gaze burns dark, hopelessly locked onto the sheer blue fabric draping carelessly over the bare expanse of your brown thighs. “I finished my duties . . I am here, yet you tease me.” 

“you sound rather impatient, zuko,” you hum, your manicured finger tracing a slow, agonizing circle over the sticky, weeping crown of his sensitive cockhead, delighting in the way he quivers. “tell me, my love . . . is the fire lord begging?” 

zuko's jaw tightens, the flexor muscle of his wrists tensing against the silk of his confines. “I w-wasn’t begging,” he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave into a rough, raspy lower register. “please, just . . . tell me what you want from me. i’ll do anything, just let me—” he breaks off with a rough swallow, and the words die in his throat.

you let out a content hum, moved by how completely unraveled he’s become, just for you. you slide your body flush against his, letting the cool cerulean silk of your dress drag over his burning thighs. “anything I want, huh?” you murmur against his lips, teasing him with a ghost of a kiss. a desperate nod escapes him, the unraveled strands of his hair swaying with the motion. 

“well, i'm about to tease some more, so I need you to stay absolutely still for it.” 

a dark realization dawns upon the fire lord; he never knew his darling wife held such a sadistic streak. he silently mourns the countless times he could have made you cum by now.

“thought we'd be . . pleasing one another tonight,” he mumbles, chest heaving. the plush bow of your lips curve into a slow, knowing grin, your gaze dropping to the lewd display of his twitching dick before you reply, “but i’m enjoying the sight of you like this. you have no idea how much it satisfies me, love . . . do you not want to please your wife?” 

“. . . you're a sly woman when you wish to be.” a pained, breathless laugh escapes him, his rigid length twitching helplessly between his thighs. the sweltering heat of his blood chills slightly against the open air of the room, a brief, phantom relief. “you know I need more from you.” 

“I think what you need, zuko, is to cool down.”

“what I need is to cu—”

“don’t worry, my love.” you cut off his breathless demand with a soft, shushing hum. your palm cradles his jaw as you smooth out his unraveled hair, your lips catching the heat of his skin as you press a kiss to his sweating temple. “I have just the thing.” 

in that very moment, you decide to shift the game and draw upon an element of your own. zuko’s no mere stranger to adding a heavy scorch to the bedroom, and the sweltering effect of his bending is never anything you can't handle or easily heal with your own two hands. tonight, you see no harm in turning the tables.

your focus shifts to the nearby glass pitcher, siphoning a liquid ribbon into the air. with a sharp twist of your wrist, the droplets solidify, crystallizing into smooth, firm blocks of ice. 

before he can utter a word, you plant the frozen ice against his bare skin with intention. one block rests at the divot of his lighting-scarred solar plexus, and another the subtle dip between his thick, firm pecs, while the third one slides smoothly down the rippled plane of his abs. with a flick of your will, a final piece glides across the delicate ridge of his collarbone. as the ice begins to melt atop his heated skin, the thawed water tracks down his torso, pooling at his pelvis until it drips heavily down his cock. 

a full-body shudders wracks zuko's frame as the sudden cold slides down the throbbing length of him. the ice cubes glide over his flesh, weeping condensed streams of melted water that dribble down his muscled form. the natural heat of his body takes over to act as a forge; with a subtle hiss, the water sizzles against his skin, instantly evaporating into a misted steam that lifts in lazy, curled wisps off his bare chest. it's an instinctive reaction — like splashing lukewarm water directly onto lava-hot coal.

“are you cooling down already, husband?”

“hah, please . . did you think it would be— mm, t-that easy?”

as he predicted, the frost doesn't last. 

the fever-heat of his skin conquers the cold in seconds, rendering the ice useless against his burning flesh. a slow smile curves your lips at the realization, prompting a sudden shift in your approach; to fight fire with fire. a flame, you might not have, but you can always trade your element for the raw heat of your own body.

dropping low, your robe pools around your ankles as you settle between his parted, muscled legs. your palms anchor securely against the warm caps of his knees, pinning his attention. locking your gaze with his hazy gold eyes, your tongue slowly glides across the tip, collecting the warm salt of his precum as your lips part to swallow him into the pliant opening of your wet mouth. 

“— ohhh, fuck.”

beneath folded legs, you feel your clit throb against the heel of your foot in response to the rough moan that practically vibrates straight from his chest and down into your throat. you pull back enough to loll your tongue out, swiping it slow and wet across his reddened, weeping tip. your crystalline eyes are lively, full of mirth as you hold him captive under your stare. zuko’s amber gaze squeezes shut at the sudden onslaught of your tongue, a sharp hiss catching in his throat.

“so naughty, baby . . .” he groans, "gonna keep me here all night, hm? punish me?” 

“it isn’t a punishment, zuko,” you break the contact with a soft pop, a sliver of saliva tethering your lips to him. the words leave you breathlessly, trailing off your tongue like the sweet, contoured sound of half a moan. “i jus’ wanna play with you. don’t you wanna play with me?” 

“I would if I could,” he manages to choke out, teeth gnawing hard on his lower lip whenever your tongue swirls back under the ridge of his spit-streaked cock. “y—you’re the one who doesn’t wanna play fair. I didn’t tie myself up, now did I?” 

you drink in the ragged heave of his chest beneath the garnet vest, the tensive muscles of his forearms bunching hard against his constraints. the sheer intrigue of his submission intoxicates you, and a wicked thrill sparks within you at the thought of it — how delicious it would be to have him whining, crying for you, completely unraveled as he tugs fruitlessly against the red satin.

“I should punish you, now that you mention it,” you muse, drawing back just enough to catch your breath while your palm strokes a slow, wet path down his pulsing dick. 

before he can manage out an answer, you dive back down again, burying his thickness to the very hilt until the tip of it hits the back of your constricting throat. you have him swallowed to the base, so much so that your senses are entirely overcome; your husband is the only thing left to taste, to smell, to breathe. a faint, involuntary tinge of smoke permeates the air as his internal fire flares in shock. 

 “shit! you’re s—so bad,” zuko heaves, his muscled arms straining powerlessly against withering ribbon. 

“am I?” you wipe a wet shine of moisture away from your plush, spit-streaked lips with the back of your hand, rising slowly to your feet. zuko’s darkened gaze follows you, his heart hammering against his ribs as he realizes exactly where you’re steering this game. you had already unburdened him of his trousers and reduced him to that open vest, and now you're matching his nakedness with your own. 

slowly, you unloop your robes and step out of your soft blue silk, letting the cerulean fabric carelessly drop away. you step onto the mattress to mount him, completely stripped— your legs throwing themselves over to bracket his wide, meaty thighs as you straddle his lap, the your bare mound of your cunt sliding a mess of arousal over the hardness of him, cock jumping at the brush of hot, wet skin.

“you are troublesome, wife,” zuko manages out through grit teeth, his jaw dropping as his head tilts down to watch the exact moment you sink onto him. you settle over every wide, throbbing inch until you've taken the entirety of him into the tight, melting warmth of your creamy cunt.

“hngh, and you should . . . s—stay still,” you mewl, your teeth sinking into your own plush lip while your nails dig deep crescents into the solid breadth of his broad shoulders.

you lift yourself up, slow and agonizingly careful, before letting gravity drop you back down onto the raw entirety of his length. a shared moan tears from your throats at the impact, your bodies pulsing deliriously around one another. zuko has always been a massive stretch, so you shift into slow, shallow rolls of your hips, taking in the immense width of him until the initial, stinging burn begins to ebb away.

“untie me.”

“mm— noooo, zuko . . .” you both know that entirely defeats the purpose. 

“can’t believe you’re— fuck —doing this to me,” zuko groans, his patience finally shattering as he rocks his hips upward beneath you. the sudden, deep shift of his length inside you forces a pitched whine from your throat. he's reached his absolute limit, both with these confines and his own composure — starved of your touch, driven mad by the sight of his beautiful goddess of a wife bouncing on his cock while his hands remain pathetically, incapably pinned.

glaring down with pure disdain at the obstacle of fabric cutting into his straining wrists, the fire lord decides that your lengthy game is over. 

with carefully exerted bending, he coaxes just the slightest spouts of fire out of his warmed palms, letting the heat of a focused spark catch onto the crimson silk until it begins to catch in flames.

you're so caught in the intensity of riding him that the change goes unnoticed, until the scent of smoke reaches you; fire. your eyes snap open to see the speckled remnants of inflamed fabric and ash dissipating up into the air in burning, golden specks. 

“z—zuko!” you whine, just as he rubs his wrists where they were bound. an anxious laugh leaves you once the realization settles in; the constraints are gone, and he's no longer bound by your rules. now that he’s freed, you know he’ll have his way with you. when you meet his eyes, it concludes that the game is over, and he’s won. he peers at you with a dangerous, burning hunger, like that of a fucking predator. 

“what shall I do with you . . .” the fire lord muses, “now that i’m free?” you aren't able to argue, or comply. there simply isn't any time. 

he loops a strong, thick forearm around your waist, pulls you flush to the solid wall of his body, full breasts squished to his broad pecs, your peaked nipples grazing his chest in a way that makes you shudder against him. he tightens his hold around your middle, hot fingers stroking down the curve of your spine. 

then, the roots take hold with a searing, digging grip.

“start bouncing.” 

frozen by the shock of his freedom, you hesitate — and your husband immediately claims the movement to take absolute hold of you. his hot fingers cling to the soft flesh of your waist, and he wastes no time lifting your hips, hoisting you up only to drop you back onto his erect cock.

the loudest moan of the night slips from your throat, a bruised, sweet thing that sounds something like a whine, and half like a wail. it's pure nectar to him, so saccharine it’s almost cloying. zuko leans into the sound, aiming to pry out so much more.

he sets a brutal, drilling pace from beneath you, bucking upward to crash against the rise and fall of your pliant body, all as his hands slink up to give your bouncing breasts a thorough squeeze. his firm hips piston up to meet you with relentless, driving thrusts as he forces your weight to slam down hard against his own. 

all you can do is cry out through every heavy drag of his fat cock within you. a vulnerable whimper escapes your lips, arms looped tightly around his neck, fingers dig frantically into his skin for any semblance of an anchor while the girth of him stretches you out with every upwards surge of his tilting hips. your tongue lolls out to trace the slick heat of his throat, dragging slow and wet up the line of his perfect jaw. you press your lips against the thick vein pulsing in his neck; pulled taut from all the raw energy he exerts into fucking himself deep inside you.

“you win . . . fu—fuck, zu, y-you win,” you whine, the globes of your ass jiggling helplessly against his pounding. “zuko, p-please, too fast— you’re too fast, my love . . . i can’t — hngh!” 

a dark, gravelly laugh vibrates right against your throat, his hot pulse hammering against your chest. “oh, no. you don't get to call a timeout,” he grunts out, a rough, commanding rumble that cuts straight through your whines as he watches your face unravel — lips agape, eyes welled up with precious tears. his thick forearm locks tighter around your waist as his pelvis crashes up into yours with unmerciful force, giving you absolutely no room to breathe. “you wanted to play, yes?" more than anything, he'd consider it provocation.

"so don’t scream for a 'slow down' now — take it. it's all for you.” 

before your lungs can even claim their next breath, zuko slides out of you entirely; having decided you deserve it much rougher for the constraints you placed upon him. a small pout touches your lips at the sudden ache of his absence, but the fire lord pays your frustration no mind. he's far too focused on delivering the consequences of your little stunt. 

effortlessly, his heavy palms flip you over and guide you flat onto your tummy — your lower back dipping into a sharp, deep curve that hoists your hips high into the air; the most perfect arch. left exposed and shivering with anticipation, your ass impetuously wiggles against the heavy bob of his waiting erection, desperate to feel him. a low, raspy chuckle vibrates in his throat, deeply satisfied by the hunger that now consumes you; just as it did him. 

“you want it? huh?” he lilts, his breath hot against your skin as he deliberately presses the crown of his cock to your opening. instead of sinking inside, he slides around your fluttering pussy, dragging the thick, veiny underside over your rear.

he taps the sticky crown of his cock against the soft flesh of your supple ass cheeks, a deliberate, maddening friction that denies you the very thing you're begging for. a dry laugh catches in his throat as your posture shudders utterly reveling in the sweet, broken whines that spill past your lips at the torment.  maybe now you'll get it. you're only feeling a fraction of what you put him through.

“n—need it so bad, d-don’t tease, husband . . .”

“of course, my sweetness.” his voice is a low, deceptive whisper right before his hips crash forward. it's downright mean, how he pushes inside you with a sudden, ruthless depth. zuko stuffs every last inch of him to the absolute hilt, done so viciously that the air is knocked clean from your lungs. your chest heaves against the mattress, voice cracking into broken, stuttered pieces as his name shatters throughout the room, like that of a priceless gloss vase.

“zuko, s’deep — y-you’re so . . so deeeeep,”

“hm . . what was that?” zuko murmurs out feigned ignorance, his wide palm flattening against the small of your back to enforce a deeper, sharper curve to your spine. the visceral slap of skin on skin rings out like thunder with every punishing smack, a lewd tempo that fills the grand bedchambers — a thick, sweltering sound so loud you're certain the advisors and palace maids a world away could easily track the . . . scandalous nature of your night. 

“zu—zu-ahh . . z—ukooo!”

“is that how you properly address your husband?” he taunts, his voice a low rumble as he bites back a growing smile. the damp end of his tongue flits out, lazily running across the edge of aligned teeth, “how you address the fire lord?”

“p-pleaseeee—” before the word can fully escape you, zuko answers your whine by stalling his momentum, feeding you long, agonizingly slow strokes. with every deliberate thrust, your body is throttled forward, melting deep into the crimson bed as you lose all coordination. a helpless sob catches in your throat, your drooling mouth agape against the mahogany bedding as you take the full, thick mass of him in slow motion, his damp skin dragging within yours. his pelvis presses hard against your ass, the heavy stickiness of his balls tapping your puffy slit

“d-do . . . mmph, wh—whatever you want." you exhale through a whining plea, weight sinking into the foam of the bamboo mattress. maybe if you appease him, stroke his ego, he'll take it easy on you. "p-punish me, zu . . . please, jus' punish me.” 

“and get you off so quickly? impatient little thing,” he only tsks, his hand comes down hard against your backside. the reddening sting forces out your small gasp. “you're not cumming until I deem it fit.”

zuko shifts his weight, sliding his stance closer until his torso pins your back flat against the mattress. leaning his upper body forward over your shoulder, his arm snakes around to trap you by the sensitive curve of your throat. he loops the thick, solid crook of his elbow right beneath your chin, pressing the rounded meat of his massive forearm against your windpipe.

with an deliberate flex, he brings about a deliciously suffocating squeeze. your throat is locked tight in the vice of his strength, constricting your oxygen until your lungs begin to burn hollow from the desperate lack of it. unable to draw a clean breath, every heavy push of his length inside you makes him feel twice as thick. 

the room spins into hazy blur, making you acutely aware of how his unhurriedly he drags inside you; stretching you out in agonizing slow motion while you choke out muffled, desperate whines against the crushing authority of his arm.

he fucks into you slowly from behind, his large frame completely curled over your spine while he holds you trapped in the thick vice of his headlock. you helplessly muffle your whimpers and drool all over the solid breadth of his meaty, flexing bicep. from above, the fire lord ignores the chaos of the room to simply stare down at your face, a wave of profound adoration breaking across his features for third time today, because you belong entirely to him — his pretty, precious baby.

“that’s what it takes for you to act right?” zuko huffs out an incredulous laugh, “you’re finally being so good, love . . . taking me so fucking well.” the words are thick with an intoxicating pride as his warmed breath dusts your cheek.

never does it come with one; but without warning, his palm delivers another sharp, loving smack to your right cheek, leaving a trailing sting that audibly sizzles against your damp skin. before another sound can fully leave your throat, his lips drop lower, a searing kiss pressed possessively to the very base of your neck, the curve of your spine, the crown of your hair. in every aspect, he consumes you.

you're balanced precariously on the absolute edge, and zuko can tell. your vision begins to spot, your entire frame stringing tense and your mind going beautifully dumb the exact moment you finally release your sweet, gushing juices all over him. eyes brimming over with heavy gemmed tears, he fucks you thoroughly through the crash of your orgasm; rocking deep into the stubborn squeeze of your convulsing pussy.

zuko's rigid and twitching inside you, his amplified volume matching the gradually careless rhythm of his thrusts. a rough groan tears from his throat as he openly relishes the slick, heavy friction of his veins dragging wet and sloppy from deep within your walls. even with the lingering shock of your own orgasm, it's clear to you that he’s soon to follow suit. truthfully, you're amazed that he managed to hold out up until now; though, not for much longer.

“you’re being so good to me, sweetness . . . letting it all go just for your husband, cumming all over me . . . ooh, you’re making me feel too fucking good, can’t hold back anymore — i'm next, my love, m’right behind you — fffuck.”

you can feel the very heat of his seed flooding your inner walls as he cums hard and deep, muttering jumbled obscenities out into the humid air. misted puffs of smoke curl past his agape lips along the calls of your name. his hips give a final, desperate jerk, his throbbing cock spouting thick ribbons of white until he’s completely drained himself inside you. 

his chest heaves, glistening in the low orange lighting as he settles beside you, his hands instantly shifting to trace soothing, balmy circles over the flesh he so ruthlessly manhandled. a quiet moan escapes your lips, your dazed body sinking into the scrunched, damp bedding as his touch releases your strung muscles. the cooling sweat on your brow makes you shiver, while the deep, deep ache from being so thoroughly stretched begins to settle into your bones.

you give a small, helpless whine when his fingers find a particularly sensitive spot, his touch a tender mercy. you know, of course you do that you are covered in the visual evidence of his hunger, but you choose to pay the marks no mind until the sun rises. after all, your ladies-in-waiting are far too used to seeing the fire lord’s signature handprints painted across your skin when they wash you in the morning.

his chest heaves in the dark as he settles beside you, his hands instantly shifting from manhandling to tracing soothing circles over the skin of your body he so ruthlessly possessed. you let out a soft, trailing moan, your dazed body sinking into the scrunched, damp bedding as his touch unties your muscles. the cooling sweat on your brow makes you shiver, while the deep, deep ache from being so thoroughly filled and stretched, in all those creative positions, begins to settle into your bones as a sweet fatigue. 

a small, sharp whine slips from your lips when zuko’s calloused thumbs knead an especially tender spot. you know that he's ravaged you. you probably look as undone as you feel, and it's going to be painfully obvious for anyone looking at you to tell. though you can't yet see the crimson marks he left in his wake, you've already decided those are tomorrow’s problem. after all, your ladies-in-waiting are already far too used to seeing the fire lord’s permanent signature painted across your skin when they wash you in the morning.

“i'm sorry, love . . i'm so sorry,” zuko whispers into the crook of your neck as he continues his slow massage, his touch smoothing over the marks he left behind. “just can’t control myself when it comes to you, my queen.” 

“mmmnn . . . it’s, ah . . s’okay,” you slur against the mahogany bedding. a thick, post-orgasmic drowse claims your senses, your eyelids fluttering wearily the last of your strength dissolves into the sheets. he’s truly managed to unburden you of every last ounce of your energy. 

tenderly, zuko rolls you onto your back and gently cleanses your skin, taking a soft handcloth from your drawer to wipe away any slick evidence of love-making; even as the dark temptation to stuff himself back inside your sweet pussy and keep you plugged with his dripping cum starts to become a greater urge. zuko fights it, deciding he can save the intention of impregnating you for another, more purposeful night — that is, if your womb hasn't already . . . taken his heir after the dozens of positions he molded you into all in one night. 

a feather-light kiss grazes your forehead, tender and warm, just before the red covers are drawn up over your shoulders to ward off the chill. zuko watches you drift into slumber, a soft chuckle escaping him as you mutter a sleepy, incoherent complaint about the 'unfairness' of him being able to melt away your icy defenses. settling into bed, he spoons you close, wrapping his thick, strong arms around you to keep you snug against the solidity of his chest. 

“rest while you can, love," he whispers adoringly into your hair, smelling of rich imported oils, a tinge of his own smoke, and the salt of your sea. "because when the sun rises . . . i’m taking my turn with you and that ribbon.”

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