#tw dubcon

You let out a sigh of relief as the sharp pain slowly fades, involuntarily bucking your hips against his face without realisation as it feels very soothing.

The wetness seeps out of you in embarassing amounts, which only serves as a device to mock you later when he does this all over again.

“Oh fuck— she's soaking f'me.” You hear his muffled voice, his breath felt warm in between your thights.

You drop your head in shame, because you can hear how disgustingly wet you've gotten due to his actions, the slurrping noises echo in your ears like a mockery and a reminder of how your body chooses to betray you everytime.

All because of him.

He feels his cock twitch in his pants, getting harder and harder each and every second. But he stays focused, continuing to devour your cunt like a man starved.

He groans into it, causing vibrations to shoot up in your core, making you shiver in an unwelcomed satisfaction.

He drinks up all the juices you were leaking like it was nectar, letting out satisfactory noises as if he's eating a fancy meal. You're chest breaks out involuntary moans no matter how much you try to contain them, which only makes him feral knowing that he's the reason, it makes him feel very validated to and egoistic.

“Mhm? At least some part of you is honest with me.” He mutters, rubbing salt into your wound, adding more to the shame you were feeling.

He presses kisses all over it, sighing when he feels your clit flutter in his mouth when he traps it in his mouth.

“Fuck, you're so divine baby. I love you so so so so so much.” He adds breathlessly, face flustered as he dines on your cunt.

You swallow the lump in your throat, toes curling in pleasure when you feel a familiar knot tighten in your stomach. You start squirming again, not wanting the knot in your stomach to snap and betray you wholly.

But it was impossible not when he's below you, working his mouth like he's desperate.

You brace yourself for the impact.

Yet, nothing happens, in fact, you feel the absence of his mouth which makes you look down, he had pulled away right before you could cum.

The feeling in your stomach fades, but not in a way that you expected it to, it left behind a frustrating ache that gnawed in your gut, it made you irritated. You let out a huff in disappointment reflexively.

You thought maybe he'd stop, maybe he's had his fill? whatever that means.

You expect him to pull you off him, but he doesn't do that, he reattaches himself again, once again capturing your cunt wholly, tongue prodding at your entrance as he slowly tries shoving the wet muscles in.

You're left confused, wondering what he's planning, but nonetheless you feel the knot form in your stomach again.

You expect it to snap, but once again, it's abruptly interrupted, leaving a sense of frustration behind. You open your mouth to question— but you're quickly shut up when you feel his mouth on you again.

He repeats it everytime you're near a few more times.

It leaves you more frustrated than ever, overriding every other emotion. You whine in disappointment as your orgasm is abruptly stolen once again.

You let out a frustrated cry, brows furrowed as you feel tears welling up in your eyes, you press your hips down, pushing your cunt against his mouth involuntarily as the irritation of being denied your bliss was driving you insane.

“What is it baby? Wanna cum?” He asked, huffing against your bud. You looked down, staring into his eyes as he gave you a smirk.

He was doing this on purpose.

“If you don't use your voice, I'll just have to keep on doing this.” He mumbled, pressing a kiss to your bottom lips.

You stayed quiet, trying to break away from his grip, hands tugging against the rope to loosen it but it doesn't work.

He starts his shenanigan once again, maneuvering you down and pressing you flush to his face.

You gasp, feeling your high build up slowly, you squirm against his face, pressing your cunt flat against his mouth but he turns his head away, causing you to almost collapse forward in exasperation.

“Please...” You bite your lip, voice coming out meekly.

“Please what baby?” He asks, smooching your inner thigh. “You want to cum?” He adds.

You nod, head moving up and down as you look at him with a neediness you've never experienced before.

“Beg.” He comands, thumb drawing circles on your thigh.

He is so fucking mean, asking you to beg for something you didn't want in the first place— usually he'd make you cum without asking you for anything, but today, he shifted his plans, dead set on making you betray your own self.

You didn't want to, but you know that he'll torture you like this for hours if you didn't.

“P-please, I want to cum.” You murmer, voice shaky as he drags his tongue across your slit after hearing that.

“More.” He tuts.

“Please, I wanna cum, I want to cum so badly. Please let me cum.” You beg, humiliation churning in your gut. “Oh fuck—!” You choke on your words when he pushes his tongue inside you. You could feel the warm muscle invade your depths causing you to see stars, your cunt clenches around it, trying to grip it but it causes the soft muscle to be pushed out instead.

He continues working his mouth, soft pants leaving from him too as he makes out with your pussy.

“Tell me you love me.” He utters, fingers digging into your flesh, causing a little amount of pain.

You shut your eyes, feeling the same knot build up in your stomach for the nth time.

“I'll stop if you don't. I can play the long game.” He threatens, slowing down but you panic, shaking your head.

“No! Please, I love you, I love you.” You chant frantically, not wanting him to stop as the knot begins to feel like it's about to rip apart.

“I love you— I love you so much! please please please,” You repeat it over and over again, earning a satisfactory groan from him. “Ahh! oh!— fuck fuck—” You choke, letting out a loud moan as your high crashes down on you.

It hit harder than any other orgasm you've experienced before, you collapsed forward due to the sheer intensity, face landing into the soft mattress of the bed that you learnt to call your home.

Your body twitched as you collected yourself, hips bucking into his face, riding your orgasm out. Your thighs trembled, body shaking visibly due to the aftermath of your orgasm.

His hands slide up your waist gently before they come down, he lifts one of your thighs planted on the side of his head to pull himself away from beneath and sits up straight as he turns to look at you.

You collapse to your side, hands still behind your back as you gasp for air, chest back and forth.

He smiles cruelly, pushing you onto your back before undoing his pants and lining himself against your freshly abused cunt, he could see the way it was still swollen, still throbbing in desperation.

“I love you too.” He cooes before pushing himself inside without a warning.

— gojo satoru, geto suguru, yuta okkotsu, yuji itadori, tamsy caines, dabi, katuski bakugo, + feel free to imagine any character you like!

all characters mentioned are all obviously aged up.

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

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

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

It had worked.

And how you regretted it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Toph.

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

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

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

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

Fuck. His hands.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She was talking about your skirt.

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

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

"Thanks!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which you were.

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

It made you nauseous.

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

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

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

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

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

It made you sick.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You tried not to stare at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It took everything in you not to stare openly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Had she and Sokka slipped away for some privacy?

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

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

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

Katara.

You nearly stopped breathing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You could hear Katara hesitate before she answered.

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

You froze.

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

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

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

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

"Why?!"

"I panicked!" she admitted. 

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

Slowly, you pulled away from the door.

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

That was it.

Your chance.

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

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

"Oh Katara, I am so mad at you—"

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

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

Their conversation had given you everything you needed to know.

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

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

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

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

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

Because in the end, it had not been pointless.

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

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

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

He hadn't.

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

This was your only opportunity.

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

Only upon reaching the topmost level did you finally slow.

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

There he was.

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

Just as you were about to take a step forward—

"Just what are you plotting?" 

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

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

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

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

Toph snorted.

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

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

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

"I am not lying."

"Please." Toph folded her arms. 

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

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

Heat rushed straight to your face despite your irritation.

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

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

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

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

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

Toph peeled your hand off her face with visible offense.

"Rude."

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

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

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

"How is it wrong?"

Toph folded her arms. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Toph clicked her tongue.

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

You exhaled slowly, trying to keep your composure intact.

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

"What makes you so sure he will?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Toph let out a slow breath through her nose.

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

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

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

Yeah.

She really was a good friend.

Unlike you.

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

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

He turned around quickly. "Katara?"

The name struck harder than you expected.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Feeling better now?"

"Much."

He smiled again before glancing back toward the streets below.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wait, Aang!"

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

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

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

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

"What's up?"

"Aang..."

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

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

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

The girl he had apparently already shared a bed with.

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

Toph had been right.

Spirits, she had been completely right.

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

"Hey, what's wrong?"

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

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

It completely ruined your ability to think straight.

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

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

Well.

You had already said it now.

There was no point trying to take it back.

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

Aang looked genuinely taken aback by that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aang's expression fell almost immediately.

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

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

"Why would I hate you, Aang?"

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

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

"That means a lot to me. Really."

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

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

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

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

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

His looked taken aback at that.

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

You shook your head lightly. 

"But I'm grateful for it now."

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

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

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

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

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

And it does, almost predictably so.

"Which is why?" Aang prompted gently.

You hesitated just long enough.

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

The apology appeared on his face instantly.

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

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

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

"I didn't want to bother you."

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

"You could never bother me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But never you."

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

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

"I think I just expected you to know."

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

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

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

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

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

"No, it doesn't."

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

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

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

You looked at him for a moment before smiling faintly.

"Aang, we were children."

The embarrassment on his face deepened instantly.

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

"That is not true."

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

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

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

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

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

"But...you do now?"

There it was.

Just a sliver of hope in his voice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's not true." 

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

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

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

"You did more than that."

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

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

"You were important to me, Aang."

His throat shifted around a swallow.

"You were important to me too."

"Were?"

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

"Are. I meant are."

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

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

His attention was rooted to you. 

"But I didn't miss the Avatar."

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

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

"I missed you."

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

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

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

"Didn't you?"

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

Katara.

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

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

His attention remained on you.

Interesting.

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

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

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

"And what do you need?" He asked.

There it was.

Not the Avatar speaking.

Just Aang.

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

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

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

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

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

"Wait—" 

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

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

You really did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I really need you...Aang."

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

"Hahh...!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not when you were so close to having him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was torn.

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

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

"Have you...done this before?"

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck...he was doing so good.

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

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

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

He disagreed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Katara spoke next.

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

There was none.

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

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

So you put on a usual cheeky smile.

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

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

You smiled sweetly while speaking to her.

"It's alri—"

Katara barely managed half the sentence before Aang interrupted unexpectedly.

"Could you guys give us a moment?"

Even while speaking, he never looked away from you.

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

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

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

The lie came easily, effortless beneath your smile.

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

You nodded along lightly at his teasing.

"Come on, Katara."

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

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

She was waiting for him to answer.

You truly expected him to.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Aang..."

He said nothing.

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

Still, you forced yourself to continue.

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

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

He did, meeting your eyes quickly.

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

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

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

So you leaned in first.

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

You waited.

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

You released him completely after that.

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

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

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

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

"Let me help."

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

Several minutes later, Aang finally returned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You noticed immediately how carefully he avoided looking at you.

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

So, you decided to play your final card.

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

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

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

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

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah." You forced a faint smile. 

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

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

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

"Wait—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Behind you came the soft sound of approaching footsteps.

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

"Let's go."

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

"Goodnight."

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

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

Perhaps Katara already understood he would not be returning tonight. 

Perhaps all of them did.

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

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

Enough for Sokka's expression to flatten beneath confusion.

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

Enough for Katara to go completely still.

No one spoke of it.

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

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

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

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

You noticed it after the second block.

His hand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You watched him step past you.

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

"Come to my room, Aang."

He stopped instantly.

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

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

You tilted your head slightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aang hesitated slightly before walking in.

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

Because all you could think now was—

It was now or never.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's not that simple."

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

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

He shudders at the proximity, his breath hitching. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He finally asks—

"What do you need from me?"

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

"I just want you." You say simply.

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

You don't make him wait. 

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

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

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

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

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

Finally, he finds his voice. 

"Why...?"

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

"I want to be your wife."

Aang's entire body stills. 

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

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

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

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

"And I want you to be free."

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

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

It was something between awe and sheer terror.

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

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

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

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

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

You were snapped out of your wallowing thoughts. 

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

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

Then the meaning finally settled into place.

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

"Are you...agreeing?"

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

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

"Thank you, Aang!" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your movements are swift as you undo the knots. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then you lean in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You keep your movements agonizingly slow. 

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

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

His hand moves, finding the top of your head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He can't even find words. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Did she not do this...?"

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

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

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

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

"Then I tried to..."

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

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

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

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

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

"Had she asked you to do it?"

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

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

You pout.

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

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

"And then what happened?"

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

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

"We never spoke about it after..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He looks completely undone. 

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

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

"Hahh!" 

You arch slightly, your fingers digging into the bedsheets. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Lower. Right...there." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You did it.

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

You actually did it.

The thought is more intoxicating than the sex itself. 

The realization that you've dismantled the Avatar, stripped away the hero and the monk until all that's left is this raw, exposed boy who is so desperately trying to please you...it's better than anything you could have imagined when you started this a day ago.

"Y-you're doing so good..." You whisper the genuine praise that makes him shudder. His tongue sweeps again, longer this time, more confident, and you can't help the way your thighs tighten around his face, pulling him in. 

"Just like that, Aang. Don't stop. Don't you dare stop...!"

You listen to the wet, slurping sounds of him working on you, the way he swallows every moan you let out, and you feel that possessive heat blooming in your chest. 

He's not yours yet.

Not entirely. 

But you can feel the shift in him. 

The way he's clinging to you, the way he's listening to you.

When he finally presses his face harder against you, his breath hot against your damp skin, and you feel that first surge of your orgasm building. 

You meet him halfway, your hips arching up, your fingers digging into his skin as you whisper his name like a prayer.

"That's it...oh spirits, Aang..."

You watch him through heavy eyelids, the way his jaw works, the way his eyes go unfocused as he feels you writhe under him. 

And you realize that you're already planning how to make him do this again. 

And again. 

And again. 

Until he doesn't even remember what it was like when you weren't the only thing he wanted to please.

"Aang, I'm—!" The words catch in your throat as a wave of pleasure begins to build harshly.  "I'm going to—!"

"I've got you..." He mumbles against your skin, his voice thick and unrecognizable. 

He presses his face into you, his tongue working with a sudden, focused intensity that shatters your last thread of control.

Your orgasm hits like a physical blow, your entire body going rigid as you cry out his name, sinking your fingers into his scalp as you come apart beneath him. 

You feel him catch every drop, his tongue sweeping over you with a greedy thoroughness that leaves you shaking and breathless.

When you finally slump back, your chest heaving, your skin slick with sweat, he pulls back to look up at you. 

His face is feverish, his lips wet, and his eyes are completely glazed with something that looks terrifyingly close to worship.

"Was that..." He starts, his voice cracking. 

"Was that okay?"

You can't even find the words to tell him it was better than perfect. 

You just reach down, your fingers trembling as you cup his face, pulling him back up for a kiss that tastes of you and him.

You guide his back to the pillows with gentle pressure from your hands on his shoulders, watching the way he settles beneath you, all broad shoulders and lean muscles, his tattooed arms splayed out like he's surrendering to something inevitable. 

He looks utterly wrecked, his breathing still coming in ragged puffs, his gaze following your every movement with a mix of curiosity and unadulterated terror.

"I've got you..." You assure, your voice like honey as you straddle his hips. 

You do not rush it. 

You don't even move to come down on him yet. 

You just sit there, your knees on either side of his thighs, feeling the heat radiating off him. 

"Just breathe, Aang. Look at me."

His gaze snaps up to yours, so wide and vulnerable. 

You reach down, your thumb grazing over his lips to wipe the remnants of your pleasure, and he lets out a choked sound when you touch him.

"Shh..." You coo, leaning forward until your breasts brush his chest, your nipples grazing against his skin. 

"I'm going to be so careful with you. I promise."

When you finally lower yourself down, the way he gasps a broken, shattered sound that rips straight through your chest is almost enough to make you stop. 

But you don't. 

You sink down slowly, agonizingly slow, taking him in inch by inch. 

You watch his eyes pull open before screwing shut the next second, his head falling back into the pillows as you fill yourself completely. You can feel his hands hovering just above your waist, trembling, wanting to grab you but terrified to do so.

"That's it..." You moan, your voice thick with the pleasure he's giving you. 

"Oh Aang...you feel so good."

You start to move, but it's not fast. No matter how desperate you were, you do not pick up your pace. 

You move slow, grinding back and forth on him. 

You're taking your time, riding him with a languid motion that forces him to feel every single corner of you. You lean forward and whisper in his ear.

"Tell me what you want me to do, Aang. Tell me how you want me."

"I..." He swallows hard, his hands finally coming to rest on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin with a desperation that makes your smile.

"I want you to...just like that. Please." His sentence was incomplete, but you understood plenty. 

You let out a throaty moan, arching your back as you grind down on him, your moans getting louder, more shameless. 

You want him to hear it. You want him to hear exactly what he's doing to you. You press your palms flat against his chest, feeling his heart hammering like a trapped bird beneath your touch.

"You're so beautiful..." You whisper, your voice trembling with genuine awe as your eyes brim with tears. 

"My perfect, beautiful Aang."

The way he says your name after, in that broken, wrecked manner is when you know you've really done it. 

You've broken him open. 

And as you find your rhythm, as you ride him with the motive to give him that devastating pleasure, you know you're never letting him go.

You lean forward, as you press your chest against his, burying your face in the crook of his neck. Your fingers find your own aching heat, working in a rhythmic counterpoint.

Aang is completely lost now, his head lolling back, his throat working around a broken moan as you guide him toward the edge.

"Aang..." You whisper against his skin, your breath hot making him shudder. You pull back, looking at him softly as you ghost your lips over his.

"I need you to...I need you to let go. Just like that. For me."

His fingers press into your waist with strength. 

His eyes find yours, and for a moment, you finally see it.

The moment he decides to stop fighting.

When it happens, it's so beautiful. 

You feel his entire body seize beneath you, his hips arching off the mattress as he finally breaks. 

You don't even flinch when he gasps your name with a sob, pressing yourself down hard, grinding against him, ensuring every single drop of him is claimed. 

You take it all, swallowing his release with a greedy, possessive whimper, your own orgasm crashing over you in that leaves you trembling.

You stay there for a long time, collapsed against his chest, listening to the frantic, uneven thudding of his heart. 

You can feel the warmth of him still inside you, a thrumming weight that makes your stomach flip with triumph.

Slowly, you pull back. His eyes are still blown wide, staring at the ceiling with a look of complete, hollowed out shock. 

He's breathing hard, his skin flushed, the arrow on his head a stark against his pale skin. 

He looks utterly shattered, completely undone by you.

"Aang?" you whisper, your voice innocent.

He doesn't answer. He just lies there, staring, still taking long inhales through his nose. 

You know exactly what you've done. 

You've crossed a line he can never uncross. 

You've claimed him in the most irreversible way, and you did it while making him think it was his choice.

"Oh, Aang..." You murmur, your hand coming up to stroke his cheek, your thumb tracing the curve of his lower lip. 

"You were so good. So perfect."

His eyelashes flutter, and for a moment, you think he might cry. Then, his hand moves slow, hesitant and rests against your thigh. It's not a push away. It's still there.

“Weren’t you…supposed to…move?” he managed to choke out eventually, his eyes searching yours while you stared back at him in confusion.

For a moment, you genuinely had no idea what he meant.

So you simply waited for him to explain himself.

Except he never actually said it.

Instead, his attention dropped lower, landing where your bodies were still pressed together intimately, and realization hit you almost instantly.

You giggle, lowering your chest to his, as you hold him.

"I wanted it." You confess softly, leaning forward to press a tender kiss to his temple. 

"I wanted you. All of you."

You stay there, wrapped around him, waiting. 

Waiting for the moment he realizes he can't go back. 

Waiting for the moment he accepts he's yours.

And as you feel him exhale, a long, shuddering breath that dissolves into that of relief, you know.

You've already won.

Months later, sometimes you still thought about the look on Katara's face when you and Aang announced not only that you were together, but that the wedding would follow two months later.

You had not enjoyed it.

That was perhaps the cruelest part of all this. 

Beneath the jealousy, the selfishness, beneath the quiet satisfaction curling inside your chest, Katara had still been your friend. 

The sight of her standing there so perfectly composed while grief leaked through the cracks of her face had filled you with immediate guilt.

But guilt did not undo anything.

She had her chance, and she let it pass her by with trembling hands and too much hesitation. 

You had been offered the very same thing only once, and you had taken it without allowing yourself enough time to think twice.

That alone had decided everything.

It did not matter now anyway. 

The damage had already settled itself between all of you. 

You still saw them, of course.

Toph remained unchanged, thankfully immune to awkwardness, still insulting you with the same affection she always had. 

Zuko treated everything with neutrality, though every now and then you would catch the faintest exhaustion in his eyes whenever tension filled the room for too long.

But Sokka had grown quieter around both of you, his easy laughter no longer arriving naturally, while Suki watched situations unfold with patience, refusing to interfere. 

And Katara—

Katara tried.

Spirits, she really tried.

Yet there was only so much grace a person could carry before it started collapsing under its own weight.

The worst part was that none of them even lived in Republic City anymore except for her.

Despite it, you moved to the city.

You had promised Aang you would, and unlike everyone else, you never made promises to him you did not intend to keep.

The pregnancy had complicated things almost immediately. 

Explaining why your stomach had already begun rounding before the wedding was difficult enough, though the true horror came when four months into your marriage you could no longer disguise it beneath layered robes and loose fabric.

People counted months cruelly.

Especially your own friends.

Still, none of them said anything directly. 

Not even Katara.

Marriage itself settled around you strangely fast. 

Domestic life came naturally, and it unexpected how easily your fell into it.

Slipping into place piece by piece until you could no longer imagine waking without Aang somewhere nearby.

Though 'nearby' often meant temporary.

He was gone more than he was home, forever chasing disasters across nations, disappearing on Appa before sunrise whenever the duties of the Avatar demanded him elsewhere. 

Sometimes he would return exhausted enough to barely stay awake through dinner before collapsing beside you still half dressed.

Other nights he came home restless, carrying the weight of too many people needing too much from him all at once.

But whenever he was home, he loved you openly.

That was what mattered most.

By the seventh month of your pregnancy, Aang had developed the habit of kneeling in front of you every evening, pressing his ear against your stomach with complete seriousness while the twins shifted violently beneath your skin.

"They're arguing again." He would say thoughtfully.

You laughed every single time.

"They are not arguing."

"They definitely are. This one keeps kicking the other."

"They must have inherited your inability to sit still."

Aang only grinned before pressing another kiss against your stomach, completely unbothered by your jokes.

He was convinced both babies would be girls.

You remained certain one would be a boy.

Neither of you won.

The labor lasted nearly an entire night, leaving you exhausted beyond reason by the time the twins finally arrived screaming into the world shortly before dawn.

You gave birth to two boys. 

Two impossibly tiny boys with lungs strong enough to wake half the district.

Aang cried harder than either of them did.

You would remember that forever.

The sight of him sitting beside you with one baby clutched awkwardly against his chest while the other rested in your arms, tears slipping down his face faster than he could wipe them away.

You knew he was overwhelmed by something too enormous to fit inside him.

They looked more like him than you from the very beginning.

Those very grey eyes. His nose. Their pale skin that scrunched impossibly whenever they cried too hard.

You could feel it already, that they would be very powerful.

He held those boys carefully, almost fearfully, as though he could not quite believe they were real.

Months later, late at night. you would often find yourself curled against Aang’s side in bed while the twins slept against his chest, tiny bodies rising and falling steadily.

Something deep in Aang seemed to settle whenever the twins were in his arms. The sight softened something deep inside him every single time.

“What’s wrong?” You asked once after catching him staring at them for far too long, distant thoughts clouding his face while one of the babies slept soundly beneath his chin.

Aang blinked before smiling faintly.

“Nothing.”

You leaned closer, pressing a gentle kiss against his shoulder before settling back into his side again, one hand moving instinctively to pat the back of the baby resting on his chest while Aang carefully adjusted the other higher against him.

Then, after a while, his hand drifted absentmindedly toward one of the twins, fingertips brushing softly through the wisps of hair on his head just as a tiny gust of air stirred weakly around the tiny blankets.

The movement was small, but it made you go completely still.

Because suddenly, you understood.

After all, you had not simply become his wife.

You had become the future of the Air Nomads.

The only future left.

a/n: i laughed OUT LOUD on many occasions as i was editing it. but i still like it very much. so, i will sit in my shame like the clown that i am.

masterlist :: atla masterlist

It's almost a routine at this point, except you're already higher than you usually are. Or maybe it's just a different strain, you're not familiar with the details. You've always let the two of them figure it out. Why bother with it when they can just deal with it?

Right now your focus is on Suguru’s hand on your leg, on the way his fingers softly stroke the inside of your thigh and occasionally dip under the hem of your shorts. He's intimately aware of how horny you get when you’re high and he enjoys torturing you. Quite the sadist, he only fucks you when you’re reduced to a begging mess, tears glistening in your eyes, bruised mouth pleading “Fuck me, please. I need it please please please-”

“It's your turn, lightweight” Gojo laughs and you’re pulled back into the present. Your eyes open slowly and turn your head in his direction. Slender fingers offer you the joint whilst his bright blue eyes twinkle with something you can’t quite place. As usual, neither he nor Suguru seem that affected by the weed. Contrary to Satoru's statement you’re not actually a lightweight, but whenever you smoke with them, they manage to make you look like a fucking teenager trying weed for the first time. It’s ridiculous.

So you scrunch your face before shaking your head, you don't need to be even more out of it. Your expression makes Suguru chuckle and press a soft kiss against your temple. “Come on, baby, you can handle a bit more.”

You don't have to look at your boyfriend to see his stupid grin. His tone is condescending, a tone usually reserved to tell you “I know, baby. But you can take it.”

Fingertips ghost under the hem of your shorts again and your head spins. Just a bit higher. Please please please just a bit more.

His fingers disappear again.

Bastard.

Maybe you’d been nodding—or more likely, Gojo just did not care— because he places the lit joint between your lips. Fuck it, you decide and take a deep drag, exhaling when he removes the joint. Your cherry-colored lipstick stains the white filter, and the sight of him then placing it between his own lips suddenly feels weirdly obscene.

You let out a shaky breath; your mind is cloudy—and you like that, like the disconnect from your thoughts—but the weed and Suguru’s fingers on your leg border on too much. Your head falls back against the couch, your body is somehow loose and heavy at the same time. A sigh escapes your lips and you close your eyes again.

“What’s up baby?” Suguru asks, the faux concern in his voice makes you want to slap him. It also makes you want to fuck him more. That’s the struggle of dating him. You can never quite tell if you want to scratch his eyes out or if you want him to fuck you senseless (most of the time it's the latter).

Gojo says your name and places a hand on your knee. When you don't respond, his other hand grabs your chin and pulls your head in his direction. You’re met with a barely hidden grin while Suguru’s fingers dip under your shorts again, ghosting over the hem of your panties. You feel your face heat up even more —your body is always betraying you, there’s no pretending with him— and you clench your hands into fists.

“Hmm, you’re flushed,” Gojo states and strokes your cheek, his thumb brushing over the corner of your lips. It’s no wonder he’s Suguru’s best friend. He’s just as much of an asshole as your boyfriend and the way they enable each other is annoying. You hate them both, truly.

 “’s hot,” you rasp out and Suguru laughs softly. Your head turns in his direction and your breath catches in your throat when you look at him, whatever insult you wanted to throw at him dies on your tongue. His amethyst eyes are dark and hungry. Your mouth is dry, you want him so bad, want his mouth, his teeth, his hands, anything. Why he hasn't already thrown out Satoru to tear you apart is beyond you.

“Maybe you need to take off some of your clothes,” the hand on your thigh moves upwards and his skilled fingers play with the hem of your crop top, “you’d be less warm.” 

Heat flares in your stomach and your brows furrow in confusion. The lines between the three of them have always been…blurry. Gojo’s fingers tend to linger on your body, tend to gravitate towards you even when there’s no reason for him to be touching you. When the two of you are out alone, strangers often mistake you as a couple. Cooing how sweet your boyfriend is, how affectionate. And when you try to correct them, Satoru pinches your skin and thanks them with a shit eating grin.

Then there’s been a drunken kiss during truth or dare. A kiss so intense it left your lips swollen and bleeding. You’d never quite known how to deal with his overbearing presence. The kisses on your cheek, the arm thrown over your shoulder and pulling your hair like you're in preschool. And it's not that you didn't find him attractive, you're not blind, but there was still that pesky personality off his. The one that had problems accepting any boundaries and the word "no". So when you and Suguru officially started being a thing, you thought it’d put an end to Gojo's behavior. If not for your sake, then for his best friend's.

It didn’t. And Suguru never said anything. You never questioned him about it, just chalked it up to whatever weird fucking thing is going on between the two of them.

So you open your mouth to protest—you're not wearing anything underneath your top, which Suguru knows, and being topless in front of Gojo is all kinds of wrong—but it doesn't stop your boyfriend from pulling the top over your head while you're too sluggish to stop it.

He throws it away and entangles your hair from the many necklaces around your neck, and tucks it behind your ears. It’s a loving gesture, his thumb softly stroking your jaw, meant to soothe your nerves. And while your body sings every time he touches you, it doesn't quite work this time.

Gojo takes in a sharp breath and embarrassment flushes through you—you ignore how you feel your underwear dampening even more—and you want to cross your arms in front of your chest but Suguru anticipates your movement, grabbing your wrists and leveling you with a commanding stare. You test his grip once—only once because his darkening eyes are warning enough for you to become pliant—before letting your arms drop to your sides.

You're still not looking at Gojo, the humiliation of him seeing you like this is written all over your features. It turns him on how your roles are almost reversed. Usually, he goes too far and is greeted with your annoyance or even your absence when you're pissed off enough. Always on this high fucking horse, and now you're here—tits out, thighs clenched together and Suguru on his side for once.

While your mind is still clouded, your body is tense. The discomfort of the situation has an almost sobering effect. Suguru notices—of course—because the joint is pressed against your lips again, though this time you shake your head.

Geto's expression twitches in annoyance at your disobedient antics. Usually, you're the most pliant, the most behaved when you're inebriated but this time that unnecessary blanket of shame makes you difficult. While he doesn't take it personal, considering you just don't know any better, he finds it irritating of you to misbehave in front of an audience.

So he takes a deep drag of the joint and grabs your jaw. His long fingers dig into your cheeks, hard, effectively forcing you to open your mouth. Without pause, his lips are pressed against yours—pure muscle memory and desire coaxing you to open your mouth—pushing the smoke into your mouth. You let out a gasp when his tongue touches yours, the spark of electricity going through your body prompting you to forget all about your previous unease. The kiss quickly turns into a mess of spit, teeth and tongue. Suguru knows how to play you like a fiddle, just how he has to touch and kiss you to successfully empty your brain of any silly thoughts.

Your fingers grip his shirt, desperately pulling him closer. You want to mold yourself to him, to feel him all over you and Suguru adores you like this. All desperate and willing to let him do whatever he wants to you. He fondly hums into your mouth and his fingers move from your jaw to the nape of your neck, fasting your hair into a ponytail and pulling.

The action elicits a whine out of you. When Suguru pulls away—you chase after him, but the grip on your hair stops you—there's a line of spit connecting the two of you and Satoru wants to lap it up. You look thoroughly debauched, all heavy breathing, lips swollen and wet with spit. Last remnants of your lipstick are smudged around the corners of your bruised mouth, not quite helping your frazzled expression. Like an act of sympathy—and it's just that, an act—Geto lets go of your hair and leans back against the back of the couch. You mirror him since the weed makes it difficult to keep yourself upright. You feel yourself sinking into yourself, into the couch while this warm current flows through your veins. The previous feeling of anxiety dissipates in the air like smoke and you smile.

"I think you've been mean to our friend, baby," your boyfriend tsks while tucking a loose lock of hair behind your ear. "Just look at him."

It's then that you finally grace Satoru with your attention. There's a sizable tent in his boxers and he's practically panting like a dog. His eyes are glued to your tits, to your perked up nipples and he's just itching to touch you. He wants to tug at them, to put them in his mouth and suck on them until you sob. Ever since he got to hear the little whimpers and gasps you let out when he kissed you during truth or dare, he's been desperate to hear more.

Like he can read his mind, Suguru's thumb starts to lazily circle your left nipple. The contact, despite it being feathery light, closer to an almost touch than an actual one, makes you twitch and the sound that escapes you—a pathetic little cry—makes precum leak through Satoru's boxers.

“So mean,” agrees Gojo, his voice dropping multiple octaves. His pink tongue darts out to wet his plush lips but his eyes remain fixed to your chest, on Suguru's finger circling your pretty, puffy nipple.

Your skin is flushed, your panties are drenched and all you want is for your boyfriend to finally throw out the white haired menace so you can be folded in half and fucked til your cunt is sore. Want and shame have you feeling dizzy, so you nuzzle into his shoulder mumbling a desperate "Please". You're seconds away from climbing his lap and humping his leg like a dog in heat.

"Poor baby," Suguru smirks and kisses the top of your head, "Satoru, you should take her shorts off." He looks at his roommate, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. “I don’t want my baby to overheat.”

You open your mouth to protest, but are cut off by Suguru shushing you.

"You trust me, right? You're so needy, I just want you to be taken care of."

Satoru resembles a dog, perking up and practically salivating. It’s no question he’s wanted to fuck you for a long time now. Technically, he wanted you first but it's Suguru you wanted. It's Suguru you gravitated towards. Which is no surprise, he's always had an easier time getting girls, and guys. Even in high school, people fell to his feet. And it wasn't like people weren't into Gojo, he just always ended up scaring them off. He is always a bit too much. He's too eager and his non-existent respect for personal boundaries is off-putting. So when he finally got offered the chance to kiss you as a dare, he'd leapt at it. Pulled you close and almost devoured you. He still jerks off to the memory of your whimpers, to the memory of your taste and the warmth of your mouth.

He gets on his knees in front of you and it's ridiculous how he's almost as tall as you this way. His large hands run up and down your thighs and you shiver despite the warmth of the room. Through your hooded eyes you gaze at him and you think he might have never been more beautiful than this. Cheeks flushed, the tips of his ears tinted red and pupils huge.

"Hips up, baby," he grins, still all confident despite his obvious arousal, and his fingers dip beneath the waistband of your shorts.

“Fuck,” he hisses when he sees your panties —lacy, green and completely soaked. Humiliation churns in your stomach and you want to press your thighs together, want to hide your arousal because they haven’t even done anything to you yet. But as soon as you try to, Suguru slaps your thigh, hard and a wince escapes your throat.

“You don’t need these,” Gojo decides and his fingers grab a hold of the waistband, urgently pulling down the ruined scrap of fabric. The world spins slower than usual and God, you’re so fucking wet it’s ridiculous.

Before you have any chance to observe his expression of seeing you completely bare, Suguru grabs your jaw and presses his lips onto yours. His mouth is warm and hard, his nails dig into your skin, making you whimper into his mouth. It’s so easy for him to coax open your lips, to rob you of oxygen and whatever shred of doubt might be left.

You’re panting when Suguru pulls away and he takes advantage of your dazed state by grabbing your left thigh and pulling it over his own. Like an offering, he exposes your gleaming cunt to his best friend.

You twitch for a second, your body overcome with the urge to snap your thighs together but you know better than to listen.

Gojo knows this. He doesn't even look at you, no, instead his eyes observe Suguru’s and whatever he sees in them is enough confirmation he needs. He leans forward, his face mere inches away from your core, and you hold your breath, unsure whether it's in anticipation or dread. Maybe it's neither. Maybe it's both.

He’s slow, careful, when he touches you, pulling open your lips like he’s inspecting you. And then his thumb grazes your clit oh so softly—the touch barely even there—but it’s enough to make you cry out and buck your hips. You feel like you might actually combust when you’re touched properly.

 “Is my princess sensitive?”, Suguru coos, his grip on your thigh tight while he presses wet kisses against your neck.

“Fuck you both,” you groan and close your eyes. You can't bear to look at either of them. Somehow it’s both too much and not enough at all. you miss the glance Suguru and Gojo share, you boyfriend’s nod.

Suddenly there's a harsh slap on your cunt and you let out a surprised gasp. You body startles but Suguru’s large hand, splayed over you stomach, keeps you down.

“You wanna be good now, or do we have to do this the hard way?”, Suguru asks and while his voice remains soft and pleasant, you know better. He’s not afraid to hurt you, to make you sob and shatter you into tiny little pieces.

“I’m gonna be good,” you whisper and you cunt throbs.

Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your skull when Gojo finally puts his mouth onto your dripping core and the sound that escapes your throat is loud and desperate.

Gojo’s mouth is skilled and you’re too high to care about any of the cries that escape you. He laps gently at your folds, sucking on them before his tongue wanders up to your throbbing clit. He circles the bud as many times as he pleases, occasionally flicking it back and forth before sucking on it.

While Gojo assaults your cunt with his mouth, turning it nice and puffy, Suguru starts kneading your breasts. Pinching and pulling your hard nipples, soothing them with his tongue before biting them. His mouth attacks your neck, your tits and your collarbones, leaving bite marks and hickeys all over you. If you weren’t so far gone, you’d comment on that, like you always do. You’re acting like a fucking teenager.

It's embarrassing how easy it is for Gojo to get you towards the edge. How messy and desperate he's got you. You've soaked his face in your juices and a pool of arousal gathers on the couch. With every flick of his tongue, more of your slick gushes out. stopping when your hips buck up and your cries become louder. At one point, you thread your fingers into his hair, desperately trying to keep his talented mouth on your cunt so you can finally come, but he doesn’t care. Just grabs your wrists and pulls them away like it’s no effort at all.

“Oh, is something wrong?”, he coos and blows air on your sensitive little nub. 

Your hips jut up, and you let out a breathy whine. 

“Please,” you beg with trembling lips. 

“I think you can do better than that.”

Suddenly there are two long fingers inside your tight core. You let out a high-pitched moan. The stretch hurts in the best possible way. Suguru adds to that painfully pleasant sensation by biting your neck harshly. You’re gasping, arching your back. Your core is throbbing, desperate for Gojo’s skilled fingers to start moving, but he doesn’t. 

“Please, Toru. I- I need to come. Please,” you whine. Your hips want to grind down on his skilled fingers, but Suguru presses a hand on your stomach to keep you in place.

“I’m not convinced,” Satoru sing-songs. A mean grin takes over his face while he starts pressing soft kisses against your trembling thigh. His dick presses uncomfortably against his jeans, begging to be touched, but he thinks he might be okay with it forever remaining untouched if he got to keep seeing you like this.

“Fuck, please…I- I’ll let you do whatever you want, I don’t care, just let me come. Please.”

Your breath catches in your throat when Gojos fingers start to move. They’re stretching your cunt, moving in and out in a slow rhythm to get you used to it. When you’re used to the stretch, he adds a third finger. He starts moving them, changing his aim with every hit like he's looking for something. Every cruel thrust punches out a mewl put of you and makes your thighs twitch.

When he finally hits that sweet spongy spot inside of you, you spasm and your eyes roll into the back of your head. It's like an electric shock cursing through your body. You can't help but cry out, limbs twitching while your heart speeds up.

You miss the grin on his face before he starts to attack that spot with the tips of his fingers. A high pitched keen escapes your lips and he suckles on your clit, all while pumping his fingers fast and hard into your core. The noises your sticky cunt makes are so loud, the constant schlick, schlick, schlick almost as loud as your cries.

Gojo's pace is a brutal one, one that hurts as much as it makes your insides clench in pleasure. Your poor pussy is so overwhelmed, unsure whether she wants to suck Satoru's long fingers in or push them out. Slick gushes out of you, pooling into a small puddle under your ass and covering the entirety of Satoru's hand. Pleasure pulses through you and you feel the coil in your stomach tighten and tighten and you think you feel prepared for your orgasm. But suddenly a finger presses against your untouched rim, not entering just yet, but nudging against it and god, your slick adds just enough lubrication for his finger to slip inside, just a bit, and your vision goes white.

You come with a soundless cry, your body tensing up, cunt clenching oh so tight around his digits, digits he's still moving inside out of you, while liquid gushes out of you. It's so intense, your body completely overstimulated and it's only when you start sobbing, writhing around like you're in pain, that Satoru stops and slides his fingers out of you.

It appears you actually passed out for a hot second, because when you finally return to your body, Suguru is pressing soft kisses along your jaw, cooing how well you did. You're utterly spent, eyes remaining closed while you nuzzle into his neck.

Suguru notices your slowed down breathing, how sleep is tugging at you senses but that just won't do. So he grabs your jaw, the action waking you right back up, and smiles at you. A smile that reminds you of a predator.

"Oh, baby. You don't think we're finished with you, do you?”

The first time you meet Sukuna is at a nice restaurant your parents made reservations for. Your mother is smiling at his father, Jin; both hoping that you will get along with each of his sons.

Yuji is sweet, bubbly and outgoing. Choso is kind but far more reserved and keeps to himself, except when Yuji urges him to join the conversation. And then there is Sukuna, quiet except to say comments that had the whole table falling into complete silence.

He's huge and has a menacing look across his face, eyeing you like he was measuring up how worthy you were of his time. As a third year collegiate rugby player he is a mountain of a man. tattoos streaming down his face and arms, and piercings accentuating the sharpness of his features.

Each move you make is strategic, not wanting to disappoint your mother in impressing her new beau. Everyone seems to be getting along with the exception of the broody oldest son. It doesn't help that the only chair available was seated at the end of the table, right next to Sukuna. 

Your mother prompts you to tell everyone what you’re studying in college and just as you speak up a rough, warm hand lands on the middle of your thigh. Not moving or inching any higher, just claiming its place on your lap. The look Sukuna gives you is a challenge, are you going to disrupt the peace and say something, or will you stay silent and keep everyone placated?

And you do just that. You keep the conversation going despite trying to subtly remove his hand from your leg. It doesn’t work anyway, the warm palm remains in place until he decides to move it.

After testing the waters during your first time meeting, Sukuna can’t help but lay it on heavier once your families merge and move in together after the wedding. ‘Just until you’ve graduated’ is all they asked of you all, your parents wanting to live as a real family for even just one year.

Your mother had always wanted a large family and after the incident with your father this was her one chance to live out her dream. Who were you to deny that happiness you thought. Sukuna on the other hand would have told his father to fuck off and continue living on campus but the idea of such a tempting juicy peach living under the same roof was too good to pass up.

The first day of living together and he’s already grinding against your ass as he passes by you in the crowded kitchen before heading off for practice. If you showered too late at night he was standing right outside the bathroom, catching an eyeful whenever he could. Rationalizing it as a coincidence only lasted so long before you realized he was just a massive pervert.

Then you try to avoid him, leaving an hour after he heads off to campus, showering and locking your door before he gets back home, even settling for eating in your room if you had to. Tonight you pray that he’s off at some frat party with his teammates where he can bother some other poor girl.

You’re tucked in bed, scrolling aimlessly through videos until you feel exhausted enough to sleep when you hear a single sharp knock on your door. Half asleep, you don't think twice about who was on the other side. Opening it carefully, just a sliver of light from the hallway illuminates your vision, and you see him. Sukuna towers over you and wedges himself between the door frame.

“What do you want?” you ask, disappointed that it was him at your door. You should have kept it shut. You attempt to close it but his foot blocks the motion.

“Need your help.” Is all he says before pushing the door wider and walking inside your room. He turns on your desk lamp, offering the room a small amount of light.

“With wha-“ you couldn’t finish your question due to him completely removing the tight t-shirt that covered him. You just stared, stunning and unsure of what to do.

You checked your phone, it was midnight and you knew everyone else was already asleep. “What the fuck are you doing?” mustering just enough courage to whisper angrily at him.

“I have a muscle strain. You don’t want it to turn into a full injury do you?” Sukuna asks before laying across your bed, taking up nearly the whole expanse as he lays on his stomach.

You feel sick, unsure of how you’re going to get him to leave, yet not wanting to wake up your mother when you know she has work in the morning.

“So why are you here? Go to your room.”

“I want my new baby sister to help me out. Use those pretty little hands to ease my pain.”

“I'm not touching you. Get out!” you keep your voice as steady as you can manage with the lump forming in your throat.

“Come on, be the good sister your mommy wants you to be and help me out,” he waves the arm he wants attention on, “lower left shoulder. I fucked it up during a tackle.”

He has you stuck between two impossible decisions; start a rift in the harmony your mom has been wishing for, or give in to the brute on your bed.

He lets out a satisfactory chuckle as you approach the bed and stare down at his back. There is a large bruise there, it looks painful so you’re careful as your hands ghost along the tanned skin. Your eyes trace the markings of his tattoos, hypnotized by the way they curve along his developed muscles.

“What am I supposed to do?” you ask, trying to hide the nerves in your voice.

“Just massage it until the swelling goes down. If you're good, I'll return the favor.”

You let out a disgusted scoff, not trusting your speech to give him a more suitable response.

You work your fingers around the edges of his injury, listening intently for any sound of discomfort. Your back strains as you hunch over the bed to reach his left side but you don’t make any fuss, not wanting his attention brought back to you.

“You’re pretty good at this. I might have to keep you around when the season actually starts up.”

“This wasn’t even from a match?” You question before thinking better. Do not engage in conversation with him, you chide yourself.

“Hell no. This is from practice.” Sukuna turns himself over onto his back and looks at you clearly. “I’d probably have a broken tooth or a fucked up leg if this was a real match.”

You can't stop your eyes from roaming over the expanse of his chest in the low light of your bedroom, scars and bruises litter the front of him as well. “Why do it then?” you ask.

“Full tuition, room and board paid for by the college. Plus I get to break the noses of a few dickheads every week. What’s not to like?”

Just when you let your guard down and think you can have a normal conversation with him, Sukuna proves you wrong. He sits up and grabs your arm, dragging you over him onto the mattress. Within seconds you go from carefully standing away from him to completely straddling his lap.

You try to pull yourself away from him but his broad hands keep your hips in place on his lap. Each buck of your hips only serves to make him crazier. You freeze once you realize that your movements were causing a smile to break across his face.

“My clavicle hurts too. Get to work.” He punctuated with a playful but sharp smack on your ass.

You ask yourself why you’re still doing this but the way he looks at you has you pinned to the spot. His body is a work of art you regretfully notice, maybe you can just pretend it’s someone else as you get to massaging. Your hands move towards his shoulders as both a way to balance yourself and to work on the tense muscles.

You regret all of this now, wanting to go back in time and keep your door locked, wishing you had the guts to just tell your mother or Jin that you couldn’t stay in the house with his son any longer. Sukuna shamelessly stared at your tits through the v-cut camisole you wore tonight, his cock stirring underneath you.

And you bit your tongue, staying silent about the way you could feel his length pressing between your legs. The silk sleep shorts you had on did little to stop you from sensing the heavy prod of his bulge through his sweatpants.

You feel the hands on your hips tighten, fingers digging into flesh as Sukuna slides your back and forth on his lap. Each attempt to lift yourself off of him only made the movements that much more intense.

“Stop it, Sukuna.” You try to warn him despite knowing it will fall on deaf ears.

“Fuck, say my name again, baby.” He groans under his breath, eyes focused on the way your chest begins to rise and fall with each increasing breath.

“Don’t call me that,” you manage to gasp out just before one of his hands yanks your flimsy shorts and underwear to the side and makes your bare cunt grind against his hard-on.

Tears form in your eyes; a mixture of frustration, embarrassment, and the disgust at how quickly you were being affected by the bucking of his hips. He lifts a hand to wipe at your tears with his thumb before taking the digit into his mouth and savoring the salty stream running down your face.

“Baby, don’t cry. Your big brother will fix everything, just be a good girl for me, okay?”

Sukuna uses that same saliva coated thumb to press circles over your clit. You nod and throw your head back, able to do nothing except take the pleasure he’s offering, at least that’s what you have to tell yourself to stay sane.

As you get lost in the feeling of your building climax, he slips his cock out of the confines of his sweats, pulling you forward to grind on his length. You moan at the feeling of your slick meeting warm skin, taking a moment to realize what he’s just done.

Hands push on his chest for leverage, once again fighting him, but his own strong arms shift to grab the back of your thighs, keeping you trapped right where he wants you. You beg him to stop but he doesn’t listen.

“Call me big brother and I promise I won’t put my dick inside you yet.”

“No! Just stop!”

Now you have him running out of patience. Little did you know, this was Sukuna on his best behavior. You brought out something in him that he couldn’t control.

“Do it or I’ll knock on the wall until our parents walk in the room. And trust me, I’ll hold you right here,” he ruts his cock even faster against your slit, your whole body jolting with the force of his arms moving you, “and let everyone in this house get a good look at how fucked out you look on top of me right now.”

“Hnnnn-” You cry out as you clench around nothing, aching for more contact and yet wanting it to all end. “Big brother, please. I just wanna cum!”

Sukuna pulls you closer to him and his mouth sucks on your nipple through the silk of your camisole. The new angle has your clit rubbing directly along his shaft causing electric-like pulses to flow through your body.

Each nip and tug of his teeth mixed with the twitching of his cock has your head swimming. You can’t hold back the moans that slip out between your clenched jaw.

“Fuck…” Sukuna takes a moment to look down as your thighs begin to tense and shake, “you’re soaking my cock, you little slut.”

There’s no more holding back, your clit cannot take anymore of the slick friction it’s receiving. You clamp a hand over your mouth as you cry out a slew of names and insults at him while riding out your climax.

Once your hips still on their own Sukuna has you flipped onto your back, him now straddling your hips. He dips two fingers between your folds, gathering a pool of your slick to lube the rest of his cock with.

You did not get the chance to see it very well before but your eyes widen at how large and girthy his cock was. The thickness alone makes you want to run and hide. It also causes the most disgusting impulsive images of him fucking you with that big dick to run through your mind.

Sukuna positions himself between your legs, as if he was going to fuck you in missionary. One arm pressed into the mattress by your head and the other stroking his cock, all while staring into your eyes intensely.

You feel more naked under his glare now than you did on top of him with his mouth and hands roaming your body. Despite how badly you want to, you can’t look away, like you’re being frozen in place by his ruby eyes.

His face tenses, jaw ticked and brows furrowed. He grunts your name once and then you feel splatter after splatter of his cum hitting your stomach and bare pussy. The silk shorts you’re wearing are completely ruined by the stains setting in.

Your high is gone, everything turning stone cold sober. With a raised hand you unleash your anger onto his cheek. The slap was louder than you intended but not harsh enough to wipe the satisfaction off his face. He grabbed you by the back of your head, pulling your faces closer before claiming your lips. His tongue invades your mouth as you try to kick and push him away.

“You’re gonna be a good baby sister right? I’m not gonna have to show your mom that stash of weed you have in your drawers, will I?” Sukuna coos at you despite the severe threat laying underneath the sweet voice he used for you.

He’s been in your room? Of course he has. It’s no wonder the lock on your door sticks and sometimes doesn’t work at all. Sukuna had probably been picking the lock since you first moved in together. But the last thing you needed was her to hear about the weed you have. The first time she caught you smoking she nearly called the cops on you.

“What’s your problem? Why me? Why are you doing this to me?” You plead.

Sukuna gathers a stream of his cum between his fingers, smearing his spend between your folds, amused by the tempestuous expression you gave as he mixed your releases together

“Because I can. Because I want to. Because I want something that’s only mine.” He says all of this so flippantly, as if his harassment against you was destined fate. “You’re my type, you know that? Pretty eyes, cute face, smart as hell, secretly kinky.”

Your brows crease in confusion, “you know nothing about me. You’re fucking delusional.”

Sukuna finally removes himself from on top of you, putting his softened but still too large of a cock back inside his underwear. He’s half way across the threshold of your room, ready to finally leave you alone before he turns back casually.

“You know, baby sister,” he enjoys the way you cringe at that name, “your laptop and phone sync your history and logins. The shit you’ve been watching on there makes me look like a saint.”

“Leave me the fuck alone!”

“Maybe that’s what we’ll do later. I’ll show you my collection and you show me just what makes that pretty pussy of yours so wet. Maybe your big brother will let you try some of it out with him.”

He’s taunting you and it’s working. You hate how your cheeks flush and your eyes gloss over as his deep voice hits you in ways that make you want to die.

“That’s no amateur shit you're watching. Cages, rope, anal, fucking piss and spitting. Yeah, you’re my dream girl.”