laur !

❛ i wanna be the king ❜ <3.

[ephmeralss]

𐙚⋆.˚𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓪𝔀𝓫𝓮𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓻𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮...

°❀ 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝑜𝒹𝓁𝑒𝓈 𝒾'𝒹 𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑜

.☘︎  ݁˖  laura/laur.  she/her.  8teen.  silly  lover  girl  who  is  over  emotional.  outer  banks.  supernatural.  atla.  spider-man.  teen  wolf.  stranger  things.  jensen  ackles.  jack  champion.  folk  music.  noah  kahan.  yapper.  dean  winchester  lovebot.  unserious. 

°❀ 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒿𝑜𝓀𝑒 𝒾 𝓉𝑜𝑜𝓀 𝓉𝑜𝑜 𝒻𝒶𝓇...

.☘︎  ݁˖  i  write  mostly  oneshots  on  here  with  the  exception  of  two  ongoing  fics  right  now!  happy  reading  <3.

°❀ 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 °❀

[ekashuu]

ZUKKA DRUNK🍻

I thought that Sokka would be the type to be a hyperactive drunk, while Zuko is the sleepy one😂 oh and of course Zuko consider Sokka’s bone structure really beautiful😌💕

[erlie]

Me and my friends were talking about how Zuko and Mai are just the worst canon relationship in AtLA, and decided that Zuko would find his true passion with Sokka.

I haven't seen the movie, so this happens at some unspecified time at an unspecified place.

[trashpocket]

and the wip is done! :3 (now back to work on comms)

[thisiscareless]

you could do it on your own (while you're looking at me).

adult zuko x reader nsfw | smut | minors dni.

summary: after a long day trapped in meetings, zuko returns to his chambers only to find you already halfway undone by thoughts of him.

content: fire lord adult!zuko x fire lady reader, explicit sexual content [masturbation, watching/mutual pleasure, bit of dirty talk], steam/firebending imagery, pet names (“love”), established relationship.

note: this is what happens when i try writting a blurb, a short one-shot comes out - loosely inspired by ´sports car´ by tate mcrae, and s/o to fandom_fire on tiktok for the "lord" hc.

𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

It began with a memory.

You found yourself thinking about the way Zuko had looked that morning: the early sunlight tracing the edges his scar, the sharp line of his jaw as he fastened his belt, the lingering heat in his gaze before duty finally dragged him from your chambers. Even half-dressed and distracted by royal obligations, he had looked at you as though leaving you behind was a personal offense.

Then your thoughts drifted further back, to several nights before, when he had pulled you into the shadows of an empty corridor because, in his own strained words, he “couldn’t wait anymore.” One hand had braced against the wall beside your head while the other covered your mouth to swallow your cries, his desperation unraveling through every thrust until your knees had nearly given out beneath you.

Hours had passed since he’d disappeared into meetings. Dinner had come and gone without him, leaving the palace unbearably quiet. And alone in the privacy of your bedchambers, wrapped in silk and memory, your hand couldn't help but slip beneath your robe.

Your fingers found the slick heat between your thighs. Slowly, greedily, you began to touch yourself, chasing the ghost of his mouth, his hands, the weight of him. The memory alone made your breath falter.

You were so lost in it that you barely heard the heavy doors creak open.

Your head snapped up.

Zuko stood in the doorway, hair slightly disheveled as though he’d spent the evening dragging frustrated hands through it. His robes hung loose at the collar, and his amber eyes (usually controlled and unreadable in court) darkened the moment they landed on you. Your legs pressed together on reflex.

“Zuko, I—”

He crossed the room without a word.

The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he climbed onto the bed and moved toward you until he knelt at your side. His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair away from your face with gentleness before trailing lower, covering the hand you had instinctively hidden between your thighs.

His mouth curved faintly.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he murmured. “Let me see what you do when you think about me.”

Heat flooded your face. Even so, you let him pull your hand away. Your fingers glistened with your own arousal, and his gaze lingered on them for only a moment before he brought them to his lips.

The sight of his tongue sliding across your skin made your stomach tighten.

His eyes fluttered shut briefly, a quiet shudder passing through him, and when he looked back at you, his expression had gone molten.

“Keep touching yourself,” he said under his breath. “I want you looking at me.”

You sank back against the pillows, your robe falling open completely as you obeyed. Silk pooled uselessly around your waist, leaving you bare, thighs parted just enough for him to see the evidence of your arousal between them.

He did not touch you. Instead, he reached down and freed his cock from his trousers, wrapping his fist around the shaft with a low exhale. It was thick and flushed, the head dark and wet. He began to stroke himself slowly, his gaze fixed on your body.

You watched the muscles of his stomach tighten, his lips part and his eyes glaze with lust which was more than enough for your fingers to resume their work, circling your clit with torturous slowness, matching his pace. A curl of steam escaped his lips. The sight of it sent a shiver through you.

"Zu—"

“Keep going,” he said, the words leaving his mouth in a breath warm enough to send another thin ribbon of heat through the air between you.

Your robes had long since ceased to be clothing. They were forgotten fabric, silk tangled around your elbows, bunched beneath your shoulders, clinging to the damp curve of your ribs like a second skin soaked through with sweat. The firelight around you caught the glisten on your collarbone, on your stomach, on the insides of your thighs. The heat from his mouth and his breathing turned the air thick and wet.

Your hair was everywhere, against the pillows, strands plastered to your temples, a few stuck to the corner of your lips. You hadn’t bothered to push them away. You couldn’t. Your hands were fisted in the sheets, knuckles white, your body growing steadily more restless beneath the weight of his attention.

“Faster,” he groaned softly, and his hand moved quicker on his cock. “Don’t even dare to slow down.”

You increased your rhythm, wet sounds filling the space between your ragged breaths. His strokes grew more urgent, and so did yours, each of you chasing the same release. Your waist was pressed flat to the mattress, your hips tilted up just slightly, enough to offer yourself fully. Your thighs were open wide, the muscles shaking, knees bent and falling apart. Your feet were planted on the bed, heels digging into the rumpled linen, toes curled as you arched into each stroke of your fingers.

"That's it," he rasped, his voice strained. "Don't look away. I want to see you, you look so ruined and beautiful, touching yourself in front of me."

Your thighs trembled harder, falling open as pleasure dragged through you in waves. Every movement of your fingers sent another pulse of heat through your body, tightening low in your belly until it almost hurt.

His hips began to thrust into his own fist, his composure cracking, his forehead beaded with sweat.

"Zuko… I'm so close," you whimpered, your fingers working desperately.

"Then come for me," he commanded, his strokes becoming erratic, matching the wild rhythm of your own. "Now."

Your body obeyed, convulsing as the orgasm broke over you, your cry dissolving into his name like a prayer. Your hips jerked against your hand as waves of pleasure rolled through you. Through blurred vision, you saw Zuko break with you.

A strained groan left him as his head tipped back, his hand pumping desperately before he spilled across your stomach in hot streaks. He shuddered through the release, heat ghosting from his mouth with every uneven breath.

His eyes never leaving yours, he lowered himself to his knees at the edge of the bed, hooked his arms under your thighs, and pulled you toward his mouth. The first stroke of his tongue through your soaked folds made your back curve against the mattress beneath you.

“Oh, lord…” you moaned softly.

“Yes, love?” he said smugly, the heat of his breath surrounding your aching thighs in slow waves. “If you started without me, it’s only fair that I finish it.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair as his tongue returned deeper and devastating. He began to feast on you, his grunts and the wet sounds of his devotion filling the room. He devoured you like a man starved, lapping at your folds, sucking your clit between his lips, pushing his tongue inside you until your thighs were shaking around his shoulders all over again.

𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

note: i hope you liked itt! lmk if we like this format too or not at all. i didn't feel like writing a full shot or fic, so i tried a blurb out and this happened, curse or blessing? xx

[gyalcapone]

You're play-fighting with Aang when he suddenly traps you in a headlock. You freeze, sagging in his hold before a whimper escapes your lips. Aang startles before immediately releasing you, and he opens his mouth to apologize until he sees the look on your face.

Later that night, he's got your back in a deep arch as he folds himself over you, his chest plastered to your back with your neck tucked in the crook of his elbow. The hold tightens, and your eyes roll with each snap of your hips. Aang shudders as he drives his cock deeper inside you, the flushed, fat tip striking your g-spot like a dart to a bullseye.

"D-didnt know you liked this." Aang pants hotly into your ear.

"Me either." You choke out and Aang's hips stutter.

He groans out a curse at how wrecked your voice sounds, and you drip even more at how good the ancient language sounds on his tongue. Aang can feel how your gooey walls keep clamping around him like a spring trap and he just knows you're close.

"You're really gonna cum for me, like this?"

© gyalpaladin. 2026

[arctvros]

gettin’ handsy

[multi-fandom-imagine]

A/n: THANK YOU @gaangsign for giving me permission to write this wonderful HC out!

Sokka absolutely refused to admit the anklets were for selfish reasons.

“They’re practical,” he insisted proudly while holding up yet another delicate chain decorated with tiny silver bells and polished blue beads. “See? Water Tribe craftsmanship.”

You stared at him from across the room.

“Sokka.”

“They also match your other jewelry.”

“Sokka.”

“And,” he continued confidently, “if you get lost somehow, I can hear where you’re walking.”

You narrowed your eyes. “…you made them because you like the sound.”

His grin immediately gave him away as he scratched the back of his neck.Maybe he should have looked ashamed.

Instead, the idiot looked proud of himself.

The first time he heard them during sex, he nearly lost his mind.

Your legs rested over his shoulders while he held you beneath him, broad hands gripping your thighs as he thrust slowly into your pussy. The room was warm, filled with soft breaths and the occasional creak of the bed beneath you both,

And then the anklets jingled.

A tiny delicate sound.

Sokka froze.

Your brows lifted slightly. “Sokka?”

Another thrust.

Jingle.

His pupils visibly widened.

“Oh no,” you whispered, immediately realizing what was happening.

Sokka looked down at you with the expression of a man discovering religion. “You wore them.”

“You made them!”

“You wore them during this.”

The jingling happened again when he shifted your legs higher onto his shoulders, and the sound dragged a groan straight from his chest.

“Oh spirits,” he muttered weakly. “That’s…that’s unfair.”

You burst into laughter, your head turned to the side to stiffen your giggles but unfortunately for you, Sokka enjoyed your laughter all a bit too much too.

“You think this is funny?” he asked, already sounding breathless.

“Yes?”

“Okay. Cool. Great.” He nodded once. “I’m about to become the most annoying man alive.”

“You already are!!! ah!” You cried out as the rest of the sentence dissolved when he suddenly thrust deeper, forcing another chorus of tiny jingles from the anklets.

Sokka made a sound somewhere between a groan and a whine. “There it is again,” he muttered.

Warmth creeped up your neck as he deliberately moved your ankle slightly just to hear the charms chime.“Sokka!”

“I made these with my own two hands,” he informed you seriously while rocking his hips again. “I deserve this.”

“You’re insane.”

“You love me.”

Another thrust.

Another jingle.

Sokka’s head dropped dramatically against your thigh that was rested against his shoulder as he placed a kiss to the exposed skin. “I’m never surviving this.”

You were laughing again now, though it kept breaking into breathless little gasps every time he moved. The position had him deep, his cock dragging against that sensitive spot inside you while the metal charms sang softly with every shift of your legs.

And Sokka was obsessed.

“You have no idea how pretty you look right now,” he muttered, eyes flicking constantly between your face and the anklets around your ankles. “Spirits…”

His hands slid up your thighs slowly before he kissed one of the anklets directly.

Your stomach flipped, one of your hands gripping his bicep as the other clutched the sheets.

“Sokka,” you breathed softly.

“Hm?”

“That was weirdly attractive.”

He grinned immediately. “Yeah?”

“Yes. Unfortunately.”

“Good.” He kissed your calf this time before dragging his gaze back up to you. “Because I’m about to get worse.”

And he did, of course he did.

Every little sound from the anklets made him more worked up. He’d shift your legs just to hear them. Roll his hips slower so the charms chimed softly against each other. Sometimes he’d pause entirely just to listen while you whined beneath him.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” you accused breathlessly.

“Oh I Absolutely am."

“Sokka—”

“You sound so pretty when these little things jingle,” he groaned, gripping your thighs tighter. “How am I supposed to act normal?”

“You’ve never acted normal a day in your life.”

“That’s fair.”

The laugh that escaped him melted quickly into another moan when you clenched around his cock.

“Spirits..…” His forehead pressed against yours as his pace finally started breaking apart. “You’re gonna kill me.”

The anklets chimed again.

Sokka visibly suffered while you couldn’t stop giggling.

“Stop laughing at me while I’m inside your pussy,” he complained weakly.

“No.”

“Cruel woman.”

But his grin betrayed him completely as he kissed you again, hips snapping harder now that he’d finally lost whatever composure he started with.

The anklets jingled wildly between you both and Sokka looked like he was ascending.

[mitrakats]

i do nawt play abt kataang

[ephmeralss]

𝓼𝓲𝓬𝓴 𝓭𝓪𝔂𝓼... — husband!sokka x sick fem!reader

you  knew  what  was  happening  before  it  even  happened.  one  day,  you  were  helping  out  fine  in  the  tribe.  sewing  clothes  for  the  newborn  babies,  weaving  baskets  for  fish,  collecting  berries,  and  even  telling  stories  to  the  children.

and  then  your  head  began  to  throb.  you  dismissed  it,  continuing  to  work  but  sokka's  eyes  lingered  on  you  longer  than  normal,  he  was  oddly  intuitive  towards  you.  then  the  body  aches  started,  the  shivers,  the  runny  nose,  the  scratchy  throat,  and  finally,  the  fever  broke.

sokka  kept  you  firmly  in  bed,  even  when  you  protested  and  tried  to  tell  him  you  were  fine,  he  was  not  having  it.  you  sniffled  and  groaned  as  sokka  tucked  you  further  into  your  bed,  wrapping  you  up  in  the  furs  you  had.  "sokka.  'm  fine."  you  tried.

it  didn't  work.  he  shot  you  a  look  that  you  could  only  describe  as  annoyed  beyond  measure.  "you're  not  fine.  would  you  relax  and  let  me  take  care  of  you?"  his  eyes  narrowed  as  he  tucked  you  in  once  more  a  little  too  tight.

"sokka!"  you  squirmed  beneath  the  furs  but  he  just  shook  his  head.  "this  is  unnecessary!"  you  shouted  but  then  fell  into  a  fit  of  coughs.  he  was  at  your  side  in  an  instant  with  a  cup  of  water  and  worry  all  over  his  face.

you  downed  the  whole  thing,  your  throat  feeling  drier  than  that  desert  you  had  lost  appa  in,  fatigue  starting  to  creep  in  on  you  and  you  expected  sokka  to  give  you  one  of  his  signature  'i  told  you  so'  looks  but  all  he  did  was  help  you  get  comfortable.  you  sighed,  pouting  like  a  petulant  child.  "i  hate  being  sick."

your  loving  husband  smiled,  stroking  your  hair  out  of  your  face.  "i  know,  baby."  he  leaned  down  and  kissed  your  forehead.  you  reveled  in  it,  finally  letting  into  his  babying.  "get  some  rest.  you'll  feel  better  when  you  wake  up."

you  reached  for  him  before  he  could  get  up.  you  knew  he  had  duties  to  tend  to  as  chief  but  hey,  you  just  accepted  the  fact  that  you  were  sick  and  now  all  you  wanted  was  him.  his  face  softened.  "you  want  me  to  stay  with  you?"

you  nodded  slowly,  the  nausea  starting  to  roll  again.  he  placed  a  basket  next  to  your  side  of  the  bed  to  have  something  for  you  to  vomit  in  if  needed  but  you  were  determined  to  not  use  it,  you  hated  throwing  up  more  than  you  hated  being  sick. 

sokka  didn't  need  anything  more  from  you,  he  stood  and  stripped  off  his  shirt,  blowing  out  two  of  the  lanterns  in  your  hut  to  leave  one  flickering,  lighting  just  enough  for  you  to  see  his  shadow  moving  until  he  settled  into  bed  beside  you.  he  didn't  take  long  to  gather  you  up  in  his  arms  and  kiss  your  shoulder,  your  neck,  your  cheek,  then  your  mouth.  you  groaned  again.  "'m  gonna  get  you  sick."

sokka  laughed  softly,  just  a  puff  of  air  that  blew  against  your  hair  and  made  a  strand  tickle  your  chin.  "do  i  look  like  i  give  a  single  damn?"

you  smiled,  shaking  your  head  as  you  turned  in  his  arms  to  face  him,  pulling  his  hair  out  of  his  'warriors  wolf  tail'  as  he  likes  to  say  so  you  could  play  with  it.  it  was  always  oddly  really  soft.  his  eyes  roamed  your  face,  taking  you  in  like  you  were  a  work  of  art.

"pretty  girl,"  he  breathed,  rubbing  his  thumb  against  your  cheekbone.

you  sniffled,  one  side  of  your  nose  annoyingly  stuffed  while  the  other  ran  like  crazy.  "nothing  about  this  is  pretty."

sokka  rolled  his  eyes  but  there  was  no  malice  behind  it.  "of  course  there  is.  my  hair."

you  laughed.  he  always  knew  how  to  make  you  laugh.  and  as  you  fell  asleep  with  your  fingers  in  his  hair  and  your  head  pressed  against  his  chest,  listening  to  his  heartbeat,  you  realized  you  had  hit  the  jackpot  with  him.

( dividers by @cursed-carmine )

[ephmeralss]

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ 𝓵𝓪𝓾𝓻 𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓴𝓼 .ᐟ.ᐟ

watching tlok for the first time and am i the only one who thinks they totally nuked aangs character bcuz realistically he'd be a good dad to all three of his children?...oh just me...okay!

[multi-fandom-imagine]

My Spot || Aang ||

↪️Or how Aang got upset over Momo for laying on his wife's breasts.

Tagging: @sylveonfx98 , @mattsunchist , @straylovingwhore , @nahhoz , @sweetheartlizzie07

Aang had been patient.

Very patient.

He told himself that as he stood in the doorway, arms crossed, staring at the absolutely ridiculous sight in front of him.

You....his wonderful, beautiful wife was lounging comfortably on the bed, wrapped in one of his robes, the fabric slipping just enough to show soft skin and curves he knew very well……and right in the center of your chest laid...

Momo.

Curled up like he paid rent.

Aang blinked slowly. "That’s my spot, Momo.”

Momo didn’t even look at him.

The little traitor just snuggled in deeper, tail flicking lazily as if to say no, actually, this is mine now.

You bit back a smile, glancing over at Aang. “He was here first.”

Aang scoffed, already walking over. “That doesn’t make it legal.”He reached out, trying to gently scoop Momo up.

Chomp.

Aang jerked his hand back instantly. “Ow—!”

Momo hissed, tiny fangs bared, before settling right back into your chest like nothing happened.

You laughed.Actually laughed because how could you not laugh at something like this.

Aang stared at you, offended. “Did you just see that?! He bit the Avatar!”

“He defended his territory,” you said sweetly.

Aang stared at you for a long second. Then, dramatically, he flopped down beside you with a heavy sigh, resting his head on your stomach instead.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered.

Momo’s tail immediately started swishing.

Right into Aang’s head.

Smack.

Aang froze.

Smack.

He looked up slowly, eyes narrowing. “…He’s doing that on purpose.”

You were absolutely no help, trying and failing not to laugh as Momo continued flicking his tail, each hit perfectly aimed.

Smack.

Aang sat up. “That’s it.”

Before you could stop him, a soft burst of air slipped from his fingers, controlled, precise and suddenly Momo was gently lifted off you, tumbling through the air with an indignant screech as he glided across the room and landed in his little cat hut.

“MEHHH!!”

You gasped. “Aang!”

“He’s fine,” Aang said immediately, brushing his hands off like he’d just handled a minor inconvenience.

Momo screeched again from his hut, clearly offended.

You crossed your arms. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

Aang turned back to you, completely unapologetic and without hesitation, climbed over you, settling right between your legs before lowering himself down.

And then he buried his face right between your breasts.A soft, content exhale left him immediately, smile on his face.

“There,” he muttered. “Much better.”

You blinked. “…Wow.”

His arms wrapped loosely around your waist, holding you in place as he nuzzled slightly, clearly claiming his victory.

“Jealous Avatar,” you muttered under your breath.

“I am not jealous,” he said, voice muffled.

You raised a brow. “You airbent a lemur across the room.”

“He started it.”

From across the room Momo screeched again.

“MEHHHH!!”

Aang didn’t even lift his head. “He knows what he did.”

You laughed, shaking your head as your fingers slid into his skin, tracing the arrow for a moment before, resting there gently.

Aang hummed softly against you, completely relaxed now, like nothing had happened.

Like he hadn’t just declared war on a flying lemur for your attention.

“…You’re ridiculous,” you said fondly.

He smiled, still hidden, still stubborn, still right where he wanted to be.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “But I’m your ridiculous.”

Aang didn’t move right away.

Not when you called him ridiculous. Not when Momo kept screeching from across the room like a tiny, furious gremlin.

He was far too comfortable.

Curled against you, arms loosely wrapped around your waist, his face still buried between your soft breasts like he’d just won something important.

You felt him shift slightly then the press of his lips, warm and slow against your chest.

A soft, lingering kiss.Then another.

“All mine now,” he murmured, voice low and satisfied, like he was staking a claim he had no intention of giving up.

You huffed a quiet laugh, fingers sliding into his skin. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I had to fight for it,” he muttered. “That lemur plays dirty.”

As if summoned by the insult and sheer pettiness.

“MEHHH!”

You barely had time to react before a blur of gray and white launched across the room.

Aang didn’t even lift his head at first. “Momo, don’t—”

Too late.

The lemur landed squarely on Aang’s head with a triumphant chirp, tiny hands gripping his skin as his tail flicked dramatically.

Aang went completely still. “…You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You burst out laughing.

Momo chirped again, loud, proud, completely unbothered as he settled in like he had just reclaimed his throne.

Aang slowly lifted his head, glaring upward. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

Momo chirped again.

Smug.

You were still laughing when Aang carefully reached up, trying to grab him only for Momo to hop just out of reach, still perched, still defiant.

Aang groaned, dropping his head back down onto your chest again in defeat. “This is harassment,” he muttered.

You smiled, running your fingers gently over his scalp careful to avoid Momo’s tiny feet.

“Jealous Avatar,” you teased.

“I’m not jealous,” he insisted immediately.

Momo’s tail smacked his forehead.

Smack.

Aang’s eye twitched. “…I’m slightly jealous.”

You laughed again, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the top of his head right next to where Momo was perched like a tiny, victorious king.

And despite everything, Aang didn’t move.Didn’t fight it.

Just stayed there, arms around you, grumbling under his breath while Momo chirped happily above him.

Because at the end of the day, he still had you.

Even if he had to share.

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

may your ankles always have a place on AANG’s shoulders - might as well be a vow. extended to their fullest reach, your legs sit pretty on his chest as your toes point in a beautiful arch, his large hands grasping the fat at the tops of your thighs to keep you moving. the top half of your body is anything but lifeless, writhing as you take what he’s giving to you. “if you could see what i see…” he exhales with a sense of reverent relief and stars in his eyes, thick biceps swelling at the apex of every lift, yanking your hips up and down on his cock like a lever. sitting on his haunches, you’re damn near upside down, blood rushing to your head that lays below your tailbone as it’s raised to meet his thrusts. it’s the kind of angle that has your gaze rolling back into your skull, mindlessly babbling about what he’s doing to you n how it feels. “keep those knees straight for me, okay, pretty girl?” it’s not an instruction he knows you can heed, simply and shamelessly using it as an excuse for your to hear his voice - to hear a command come from his softly dominant persona while he scrubs you out from the inside.

you whine a sharp plea of his name, skewing your features as you jerk your head to the side, and he promptly drops your legs. you grunt as your tailbone lands on the mat and air puffs out from the cushion, the weight of aang sinks in on either side of your waist, his fists digging into the down of it as he collapses into a hover over you. loosely, your legs suspend on either side of him in a lazy split, lulling in a heavy bob as he rolls his hips into you deliberately and deliciously slow. it cools the heated friction that once resided there, deep pleasure rooting inside instead. however, what is relief, swiftly mutates into that need for more—it reminds you of his desire to prolong the experience, and teach you the sensation of patience. not to mention, you could stand to be told no once in a while. you peel your eyes open one by one to watch as he rocks over you, his massive body lumbering in a steady ebb and flow as that formidable length carves its own shape into you. at the end of his sheathe, he flicks his hips in an upwards arc, pushing an, “oh, oh, oh—!” from your parted lips as if you’re tentatively breaking the surface tension of a hot spring.

that charm you gave him dangles from a woven cord around his neck, swinging with his pace, teasing you as it hangs from his sheened neck. his eyes darken, and when he pulls out, he rears, his entire herculean body rippling from the effect of returning to his seat on his haunches and taking you with him with a dizzying grip on your hip bones. he evolves your experience, smacking your skin to his as he enters sharply and at a more shallow depth, his abdomen flexing from each elastic buck. your cream adorns his coarse n curly pubic hair like a necklace circling his base, a heavy droplet of combined pre dangling from his sack like a charm. it gently n lovingly nudges on you when he’s finally close enough, when his tip brushes the very end of you.

the back of your throat sings lofty and shrill cries as aang rearranges your legs again, collecting them from their spread and knocking your knees together when he throws them both over a shoulder like his robes. they’re far less disciplined this time, limp n bent as they bump against him while his arm straps around your two thighs. his palm is warm and sweaty at the side of one, firmly keeping them together so the new position makes you squeal. “you’re doing so well for me - so well. i’m so proud of you.” he praises, sliding his corded forearm up, catching on your knee, until it can fist your ankle closest to him. he watches you take everything he gives you, and tenderly his callused thumb strokes the first knuckles of your toes. obediently, devoted and determined to prove your loyalty to him, you hold his gaze, defiant of all the brain-numbing pleasure he’s giving you keeping you speared on his cock. he rewards that, and twists your knee nigh painfully to place a devoted kiss intimately on the sole of your foot. “oh, my love, i could go all night.”

[lvstqrs]

apologies - situationship!rafe

paring ! situationship!rafe x maneater!reader

summary ! after he messes up again, you ignore him. he gives in and apologies.

warnings ! 18+ mdni. nothing really crazy happens lol. mentions of alcohol consumption, cursing, and a heated kiss.

wc ! 0.9k

author's note ! i lovee this pairing

to be added to my taglist.

The party was in full motion when you arrived. Miniskirt and cropped tank-top on, showing everything but what they all desired most. You applied a layer of lip gloss to your lips before smacking them together. You put the lip gloss back in its spot in your purse, before getting out of your car and locking it.

The first to notice you was Topper, and you watched as he gained Rafe's attention. You rolled your eyes, ignoring the group of guys as you headed inside toward the drink table. You grabbed a beer, screwing the top off and taking a sip.

It didn't take long before Rafe was beside you, a few feet of distance and a scowl on his face. Neither of you spoke, and you didn't look at him, just watched the party. The silence went on for a few seconds before one of your friends called your name, and you smiled, not giving him a glance as you walked over to her.

You were in no mood for Rafe Cameron tonight. Of course, you purposefully showed up here to piss him off, but you had no plans on interacting with him. He needed to be taught a lesson. He was not going to treat you like one of his hookups and get away with it.

You were no one's one-night stand.

Sure, you and Rafe weren't official, and that was fine, but you weren't just fucking, either. If he wanted to act otherwise, you would show him just how easy it'd be to dump him completely. You didn't need to make him jealous. No, you didn't care to make him jealous.

If he wanted you, he had to get you. Not because you were with other guys. Because he wanted your attention. You knew he did, even if he refused to say it, but you weren't going to chase him for it.

His attention was nice, sure, and yeah, you liked being with him—but you were not a man chaser. You would not change your values for Rafe Cameron of all men.

You leaned against a wall, scoping out the party as your friends danced near you. You weren't grumpy, you were just observing. You took another gulp of your beer, and when your head leveled again, Rafe was in front of you.

"You gonna ignore me all night?" he grumbled, clearly over your attitude.

You blinked at him, before looking past him toward the party like he wasn't there. Rafe growled deep in his throat, his jaw clenching. He stepped closer, hovering over you. Your eyes met his, but you didn't speak. "Stop that shit."

You licked the gloss on your lips, pushing your beer bottle into his chest, forcing him to grab it, before you walked away, hips swinging as you did so.

Rafe stared at you. No—glared at you, his jaw ticking. "Fucking drama queen," he grumbled, tossing your beer bottle in the trashcan.

You got about halfway across the room before he was grabbing your arm. "I'm sorry, okay? Stop fucking ignorin' me."

You pulled your arm out of his grip, crossing your arms. "Sorry for what?"

Rafe swiped his tongue over the inside of his cheek, turning his head to look to the side, shaking it. "Fuck, you're a piece of work." You rolled your eyes, turning back around to walk away. He grabbed your arm again. "Okay, okay."

You huffed, pulling out of his grip again. "Would you—" He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "I'm sorry for treating you like shit the other day."

You scoffed. "You call that an apology?"

Rafe huffed, looking around. He grabbed your hands, eyes on yours. "Let me make it up to you. Whatever you want."

You tilted your head. "Show them," you said simply. His eyes flickered with confusion. "Show them how much you want me. I'm not just your fuck buddy, and you better stop acting like it."

His jaw worked, his hands tightening in yours. His hesitation was enough of an answer for you. He felt you pulling out of his grip, and he held on tighter. "Fuck," he muttered. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours.

"I know you're not just my fuck buddy," he whispered, caressing your cheek. You clearly weren't impressed. "Can you just- just be with me tonight, yeah? I'll show you off. I'll fuckin' worship you, ma. Just stop this shit."

"Your ego hates when I ignore you, doesn't it?" You raised an eyebrow.

"It's not my damn ego," he grumbled. "It's me. I- fuck, baby, can't stand when you do this shit."

"And I can't stand when you pull your shit," you rebutted, narrowing your eyes.

He sighed, nudging your nose with his. You let him. "I know, I'm sorry. I just- I fuckin' screw up, a lot. I know that. I'm tryin' here, baby. Just...don't ignore me, okay?" He moved his head, nuzzling your neck. "Please, ma," he whispered.

There it was. The groveling. It's what he always did. You always let him.

You sighed, eyes closing as he started kissing your neck softly. He was clearly serious this time because he was doing it in front of everybody. You dragged a hand into his hair, pulling his head back. "Fine. You're forgiven, for now."

He didn't smile, didn't thank you. He just leaned in, kissing you deeply, tongue slipping into your mouth as he held you close. "Fuckin' missed you," he groaned, one hand on your ass as the other cupped your face.

You tugged at his hair, melting into the kiss slightly. Just enough for it to feel good, never enough for anyone who was watching to think he had a hold of you.

Even if, deep down, he did.

Why else would you forgive him so easily?

tags @angel06babysworld

[tbhsully]

My Kataang heart was BURSTING

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Beautiful || Zuko ||

A/n: Zuko deff crys over his daughter and wife.

The meeting had long since dissolved into murmurs and parchment, advisors droning on about trade routes and coal shortages, when the soft patter of tiny feet echoed against the polished stone floor. Zuko didn’t even need to look up, he felt her before he saw her.

His daughter.

She waddled in with all the determination of a conquering general and none of the coordination, her sleeves slipping past her hands, her steps uneven but relentless. Behind her, you hovered, soft, watchful, ready to catch her if she tipped too far but you didn’t stop her. You never did.

Because this… this was her kingdom too.

Zuko’s voice faltered mid-sentence, his attention snapping completely as she reached him, small hands lifting insistently. He didn’t hesitate. The Fire Lord of an entire nation abandoned his council without a second thought, scooping her into his arms and settling her on his lap like she belonged there...because she did.

She squirmed for a moment, adjusting herself, then went very still.

Curious.

Her tiny fingers reached up, brushing along his jaw, tracing the sharp lines of his face with all the careful wonder of someone discovering something sacred. Zuko held his breath without realizing it. He had faced down armies, stood before his father, his sister, survived Agni Kai and war and loss but this?

This terrified him.

Her fingers drifted higher.

And then… they touched his scar.

The room seemed to go silent.

Advisors froze. Sokka stopped mid-whisper. Even Iroh, watching from the side, softened in a way that felt almost reverent.

Zuko didn’t move.

He didn’t dare.

Her little hand rested against the ruined skin without fear, without hesitation, without disgust—only gentle curiosity. She leaned closer, studying it like it was something beautiful instead of something broken.

Something inside his chest twisted painfully.

He had spent years learning to live with it. Years unlearning the shame carved into him alongside the burn. Years convincing himself it didn’t define him.

He knew you tried, how your fingers would always glide across it gently but he always held that nagging feeling in the back of his mind that you deserved better, could do better and now her...his spark was looking up at him the same way.

Like it wasn’t something to hide.

Her thumb brushed over it again, softer this time, almost thoughtful… and then she smiled.

A bright, unguarded, perfect smile.

“Pretty.”

Zuko blinked.

She patted his cheek, still smiling, still completely certain in her tiny, absolute way. “Daddy beautiful.”

It hit him harder than any lightning strike ever had.

His breath caught, sharp and uneven, and he turned his face slightly, just enough that no one could see the way his eyes burned. He swallowed, hard, his arms tightening instinctively around her small body like he needed to anchor himself.

“I—” His voice failed him.

He cleared his throat, tried again, quieter this time. “You think so?”

She nodded immediately, like it was the most obvious truth in the world, like there had never been a question.

Zuko let out a shaky breath that almost, almost sounded like a laugh.

“Yes,” You smiled as you stood close, hands clasped in front of you. “She has very good taste.”

Iroh chuckled gently, though his own eyes glistened. “Children often see the truth more clearly than we do.”

Zuko didn’t respond.

He couldn't.

He just pressed his forehead lightly against his daughter’s, closing his eyes for a brief, fragile moment, letting her small hands stay where they were. On his face, on his scar, on the part of him he had once believed made him unworthy.

“Beautiful,” she repeated, softer now, like a promise. Her eyes dropping as she lent into her father's chest where she fell asleep.

And Zuko, Fire Lord of the most powerful nation in the world, warrior, survivor.....swore he wasn’t crying.

[lvstqrs]

BRANDED - fratboy!jenko

pairing ! fratboy!jenko (undercover as brad mcquaid) x off-limits!reader

summary ! when ‘brad’ spots you at a party, zook turns his attraction into a game of beer pong.

warnings !  18+, slight suggestive themes, frat boy atmosphere, cursing, jenko undercover so his name is brad lol. fem!reader.

wc ! 804

author's note ! first channing tatum character oneshot let's goooo.

to be added to my taglist.

The air in Zeta was pounding. Booze was everywhere, women all over, and frat boys tearing up the place. You were shotgunning a beer against Rooster, who was losing. From across the room, Zook and McQuaid were playing beer pong, Brad sinking the last ball into their opponents cup.

The crowd went wild, and Brad and Zook jumped into the air, chest-bumping. "Dude, you're a beast!" Zook shouted, shaking Brad's shoulders.

The crowd from across the room roared as you finished off your beer first, crushing the can and throwing it on the ground, tossing your hands in the air. "Suck my dick, Rooster!" You laughed, letting two frat guys pick you up on their shoulders and spin you around.

Rooster cursed, tossing his can on the ground after crushing it. You threw your head back, laughing. Brad and Zook's eyes scanned over the scene, Brad's landing on you. "Who's that?" he asked Zook.

Zook chuckled, hitting his chest. "No chance, man. She's a killer. Like, majorly. Senior and I've heard of max three guys who've gotten past a kiss." Brad looked at Zook, shrugging. Zook shook his head, cupping his hands over his mouth. "Yo, Y/N!"

Your head turned toward Zook, and you chuckled, tapping the frat boys' shoulders to put you down. Once on the ground, you walked over to the two, eyeing Brad up and down. "What's up, Zook?"

"You met Brad yet?"

You crossed your arms, shaking your head. "You're the guy who shoulder checked the fuck out of Rooster at Walk-On Day, right?"

Brad chuckled, nodding. "Yep."

You tilted your head. "You're hot. Brad, was it?"

Zook smiled, hitting your shoulder softly. "You should see his beer pong game. He's better than you."

You scoffed. "No chance."

Brad raised an eyebrow. "Is that a challenge?" He glanced between you and Zook, a smirk on his face.

"I think that's a challenge, dude," Zook responded.

You shrugged. "What's the win?"

"You win, I do your bidding for a week. He wins, he gets a kiss," Zook proposed.

A pause. "Okay, bet. Let's go."

You walked to one side of the table, setting up the cups. Zook whistled, hitting Brad's chest. "Better win dude, I'm not carrying her cheerleading shit for a week," he told him, and Brad laughed.

The game set up quickly, and then it was on. For a little bit, you were far in the lead, and then just like that, Brad was right behind you, neck and neck. Your squad was cheering for you, and the boys were crowded around Brad, shouting at him.

"Could've picked a better beer, Zook," you told him as you downed a cup.

Zook shrugged, winking at you. He was trying the throw you off your game. Your eyes flickered between Brad and the table as you played, a small smirk on your face. You were sure you had this in the bag. No one had beaten you in two years. No way some Freshman was.

You each had one cup left, and you ended up missing your shot. You cursed under your breath, watching as Brad took his shot. The ball sunk, and you groaned, downing the cup of beer. Brad and Zook shouted, chest-bumping again as the frat boys went crazy.

You shook your head, laughing. "Well played." You walked over to Brad, looking up at him. "Deal's a deal." You grabbed his face, pulling him down to your level and pressing your lips to his.

The kiss was supposed to be quick and simple, but hell, he was a great kisser. He pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you, hand on your ass. You deepened the kiss, ignoring the whistles from Zook and Rooster and the murmurs of the crowd as you tugged on his hair.

His tongue slipped into your mouth and you groaned softly, following suit. The kiss lasted about thirty more seconds, before you slowly pulled back, biting your lip. His eyes stayed on you, flickering between yours and your lips.

"Damn," he mumbled.

"Zook, marker me," you said, looking at him. Zook jumped up, whooping as he grabbed a marker from the table. He tossed it to you, and you uncapped it, grabbing Brad's arm.

You scribbled your number down on his inner-forearm, capping the marker and tossing it back to Zook. You grabbed the bandana that was hanging out of your pocket, tying it around his wrist. "Call me sometime," you told him, turning around and walking over to your squad.

Brad stood there, watching as you walked away. Rooster and Zook came up behind him, hollering at him as they shook him. "Dude, she just branded you!" Rooster told him, chuckling.

"W-what?" Brad asked, shaking his head and looking between the two of them.

"That"—Zook pointed toward the bandana tied around his wrist—"my bro, is a brand. Means no other cheerleader can touch you. She just claimed your ass!"

Brad looked across the room at you, and your eyes met his, winking.

"Oh, shit."

@obliviousheartattack