It's a lot healthier to go for a daily walk than to sign up for a gym membership you won't be using because you hate that kind of exercise. It's a lot healthier to eat a frozen meal than to skip a meal because you were too tired to cook something healthy. It's a lot healthier to take a quick shower than to procrastinate an elaborate routine for days. Don't aim so high that you won't be hitting anything!
in love best friend! dunk who carries the heavier bags without thinking twice because âIâve got it.â
in love best friend! dunk who remembers every tiny detail you mention, even if you only said it once months ago.
in love best friend! dunk who pretends not to notice when youâre stealing fries off his plate because heâd already planned on giving you half anyway.
in love best friend! dunk who drops everything the second you text, âare you busy right now ?â
in love best friend! dunk who blushes every single time someone mistakes the two of you for a couple.
in love best friend! dunk who lets you steal his hoodies because seeing you wear them somehow makes his week.
in love best friend! dunk who never hesitates to defend you, whether youâre standing beside him or not.
in love best friend! dunk who secretly keeps every little handmade gift or birthday card youâve ever given him.
in love best friend! dunk who quietly falls in love all over again every time you smile at him like heâs your favorite person.
in love best friend! dunk who never tells you how he feels because he canât bear the thought of losing your friendship.
in love best friend! dunk who becomes the biggest supporter of your dreams, even when they would take you somewhere he canât follow.
in love best friend! dunk who accidentally stares at you during conversations before looking away the second you notice.
in love best friend! dunk who instinctively reaches out to steady you whenever you trip, even if you were never actually going to fall.
in love best friend! dunk who lights up whenever your name appears on his phone, no matter how bad his day has been.
taglist : @pinkdoeweirdo, @lustedbby, @silkaurum, @sczlxdy, @starxs-s, @vlarrtrgryn, @killa-mermaid, @sockz306, here to be add <3
a/n | hi!! i'm so so grateful for all the support i've been getting recently. like i would never imagine people would actually read my avatar works so wifjefweijf đ i've also gotten a few requests and i'm so excited to work on those aswell!! also, neteyam is kinda ooc in this, but i think he's rlly funny in this so :,)
synopsis | neteyam says sky people kiss their close friends. you donât understand it, but you let him show you. you donât know what it means yet, only that you want more.
The wind sifted through the canopy above, weaving restless fingers through the vines that draped lazily from the thick limbs of the trees. Sunlight filtered in narrow golden columns, slipping across Neteyamâs shoulders as he crouched beside you, his braids falling forward, a shadow of amusement curled in the corner of his mouth. His eyes gleamed like the jungle after rain; bright, sharp, and watching you with an intensity that shouldâve burned. You were busy weaving, fingers threaded with fine strips of bark, tongue pressed between your teeth in concentration, completely unaware of how long he'd been watching you. He wasnât subtle, but youâd never looked up in time to catch the grin twisting on his lips, or the way his gaze softened when your brow furrowed just a little in thought.
âWhy do you always sit like that when you work?â he asked, voice low, teasing, with the kind of lazy inflection that meant he was trying to get under your skin. His tail swayed behind him, betraying his amusement.
You blinked up, frowning. âLike what?â
He leaned closer, his arm brushing yours, heat trailing over your skin. âLike your whole life depends on what your fingers are doing. Like if you make one mistake, the forest might fall apart.â
You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips before you could stop it. âBecause I do not want to make a fool of myself. You know that.â
âYou could never be a fool.â He said it with ease, like a truth that needed no argument, but the way he looked at youâhead tilted, eyes liddedâwas a look akin to what mates give each other.Â
You missed it completely.
âIâm serious,â you huffed, scowling at the strand that slipped from your braid-in-progress. âThis is supposed to be for Tuktirey. I want it to be perfect.â
Neteyam made a soft sound, barely a hum, and sat beside you. His thigh pressed against yours, warm and solid, his skin smelling faintly of crushed leaves and sweat. âShe will love it,â he said. âEven if you tie all the pieces backwards. It is from you.â
Your fingers stilled. âYou think so?â
âI know so.â
It came without hesitation. Like he was already certain of every word you hadnât yet said. Like heâd spent moons learning the rhythm of your voice, the exact pitch of it when you doubted yourself. There were so many things he knew about you. How you tucked your hair behind your ear when you were nervous. The way your tail curled around your ankle when you were cold. That you never called him by his full name when you were truly angry with him.
But still, somehow, you didnât notice when he flirted.
He shifted closer, the curve of his mouth sharpening. âDo you want to know a secret?â
You turned to him slowly, wary but curious. âWhat kind of secret?â
His eyes glinted with mischief, teeth catching in the brief grin that flashed across his face. âOne from the sky people. My father told me. It is something they do when they are⊠very close.â
You tilted your head, shoulders tense, unsure if you were meant to feel wary or honored. âClose? Like mated?â
âNo,â he said, voice dropping, ânot always. Sometimes just⊠very good friends.â
âFriends do this?â
He nodded solemnly, though the corner of his mouth twitched like he was trying not to laugh. âYes. It is called⊠kissing.â
Your brow furrowed. âKissing?â
He leaned in. âYou press your lips to anotherâs lips. Soft. Maybe warm. It is not about touching bodies. It is⊠how they show trust. Care. It is not like the Naâvi ways. But it means something.â
You considered him carefully. âYou say they do this with friends?â
âVery close friends,â he repeated, his voice dropping even lower, smoky, touched with a sweetness that curled in your chest like the first flickers of a fire. âFriends who mean⊠very much to one another.â
He saw the hesitation in your eyes and reached for your hand slowly, reverently, like he was handling a wounded bird. His thumb swept the back of your knuckles. âWe are close, are we not?â
You blinked. âOf course we are.â
Neteyamâs smile widened just a breath, but there was no cruelty in it, only the soft swell of affection, fond and burning. âI have always known your heart. I see you. And I know you trust me.â
You nodded. âWith everything.â
The moment hung there, suspended between heartbeats. The wind didnât move. The forest seemed to hush, holding its breath. Your pulse beat heavy in your ears, not from fear, but from the strange warmth beginning to unfurl behind your ribs. You hadnât known Neteyam could look at you like that. Like you were more than bark-woven necklaces and careful hands. Like you were more than a friend.
Still, you asked, quiet but unflinching: âWhy do you want to do it?â
He didnât flinch either. His gaze didnât wander. âBecause you are important to me. I want to⊠show you. Not just say it.â
You stared at him, eyes narrowing slightly, trying to gauge if this was another game, another soft trick of his tongue, like when he teased you about your clumsy knots or your wild braids in the morning. But he was still, the kind of still that felt sacred, like he was baring something raw and rare.
âAlright,â you said, finally. Your voice didnât shake. âI trust you.â
Neteyamâs laugh was quiet, breathy, a sound that tasted like joy. He squeezed your hand, then guided you down until you both sat cross-legged, knees pressed together, your palms still joined. His hands were large, warm, and gentle, holding you with a care you hadnât noticed before, or maybe hadnât wanted to.
He brought his other hand to your jaw, fingertips brushing the skin just below your ear, and your breath hitched. His touch wasnât demanding. It was reverent. Careful. Like he was asking permission every step of the way.
âYou just⊠close your eyes,â he murmured. âLet it happen.â
Your heart stumbled, but you obeyed. Your lashes lowered. The forest behind your eyelids seemed brighter, painted in strange colors. You could feel every inch of him. His warmth, his breath, the slow rhythm of his thumb against your cheek.
When his lips met yours, it was soft, curious, like a question. His mouth was warm, and the press of it was light, but sure. You felt the world tilt, just slightly, like the ground beneath your legs had shifted.
He didnât move fast, didnât deepen it. He stayed there, close, his lips grazing yours like a whisper, like a vow. You exhaled through your nose, instinctively leaning into him, and the smallest, trembling sound escaped youâhalf a sigh, half a question.
Neteyam pulled back only a breath, his lips still barely touching yours. âDid you feel that?â he whispered.
You nodded.
âThat is how sky people show their hearts.â
Your eyes stayed locked on his mouth, the fullness of his lower lip, the way it glistened faintly where it had just touched yours. His breath fanned across your skin and you didnât lean back, didnât blink, barely remembered to breathe. The world around you had not changed, but it felt newly born, as if the trees stood taller and the light had melted gold across every leaf. It was your heartbeat that filled your ears, your pulse that echoed, a thrum against your ribs like distant drums. There was a strange pull in your chest, an ache both exhilarating and unknown, as though your body recognized something before your mind had named it.
His fingers tightened around your hand, with a firm kind of intimacy that grounded you like a vine anchoring into earth. Your breath fled your lungs in a stuttering exhale, and the small, involuntary giggle that escaped your mouth was light as air, startled and soft.
âSoâŠâ you tilted your head, eyes closing just slightly, your voice touched with curiosity, ââŠyour father did this with all his close sky friends?â
Neteyamâs expression fractured in real time. First, his brows lifted, the color visibly draining from his face in a rush of disbelief and horror, his mouth parting as if he meant to answer but hadnât yet found the words. The silence between you stretched taut, and for a moment, he only blinked, as if caught by a dart to the chest. But then his shoulders shook once, and he let out a shaky, unconvincing laugh.
âYâyes,â he managed, barely above a whisper. âAll of them.â
You gave a solemn nod, like you were weighing this new custom with the same reverence you gave the sacred rites of Eywa. âI see,â you said. âI think I understand now⊠why they do it.â
He gave a sound, half-strangled in his throat, and his eyes searched yours, frantic and unguarded. The lie hung between you like smoke, transparent but cloying, and he mustâve known how little you believed it. But your tone held no accusation, only a quiet, curious honesty, warm as the hand still nestled in his.
âWould youâŠâ he began, voice hushed. âWould you want to do it again?â
The humming sound you made was quiet but clear, the vibration of it rising from your chest with the ease of certainty. He exhaled, a breath that seemed to unspool all the tension from his spine, and without needing to be told, he moved.
He lifted his hand to your face, palm gentle against your cheek, fingertips tracing just beneath your eye with the caution of someone brushing pollen from a flower. You hadnât expected him to touch you like that, with a reverence usually reserved for prayer. His thumb rested against your jaw, and your lips parted slightly at the feel of it, a soft intake of breath betraying how much it affected you. He leaned in closer, until your noses brushed. The contact was tender, barely there, a subtle rub of bone against bone, warm and close and achingly gentle.
âMaâ yawne,â he whispered against your mouth, the words trembling on the edge of sound, caught between truth and confession. His voice was velvet, low and hoarse, shaped by the weight of something he hadnât dared to say before. You didnât ask what it meant. You only smiled, mouth curling beneath his, your breath warm as you leaned into the kiss he gave you.
This one was not shy.
Where the first had been a question, this was an answerâfull and certain. His lips pressed to yours with a quiet urgency, deeper, fuller, hungry in a way heâd tried to hide. His hand slipped from your cheek to cradle the back of your neck, holding you in place as he tilted his head, guiding the kiss into uncharted territory. Your breath caught in your throat, and your hands, once limp between you, rose on instinct to clutch at his shoulders, fingers curling into his skin like vines wrapping around stone.
Your bodies tilted inward, the space between you vanishing until his chest pressed to yours, his thighs bracketed against your knees. The heat of him soaked through every layer of skin, and your pulse drummed wildly where your heart met his, your stomach tightening with a deep, curling ache. He kissed you like he needed you to understand what his words couldnât say yet, like every press of his mouth was a piece of language, building a story only you could read.
When he finally pulled back, it was only by a breath, his mouth still brushing yours. His voice came ragged, his words shaped against your lips like a spell.
âRelax.â
Your whole body shuddered with the weight of that word. You hadnât realized how tightly youâd drawn yourself inward, how every muscle had gone taut with the effort of not dissolving. The way he said it. Soft, coaxing, protective, cut through your defenses. Your exhale was slow, trembling, and you melted beneath his hands, your weight pressing into him more fully. The kiss that followed was less urgent, but no less intense. There was trust in it now, not just curiosity, not just wonder, but a sense of giving in.
Neteyam made a sound in his throat, deep and low, like he hadnât expected the way you melted into him. His hand slid down your back, just enough to steady you as you shifted, your thighs sliding over his, bodies drawn together like branches in a storm.
âI did not think you would let me,â he murmured, forehead resting against yours as his breath fanned over your mouth. His eyes were still closed, lips still parted.
âWhy would you think that?â you asked softly, barely more than a breath, your voice threading between you. âWe are friends.â
He didnât answer with words. His silence wasnât awkward, wasnât heavy with guilt or uncertainty. His silence was controlled only by the last, fraying edge of restraint. He leaned forward, erasing the space youâd left him, lips closing over yours with a suddenness that stole your breath. This kiss was not shy. It was quiet, but insistent. A low-burning ember set against the skin, smoldering hotter than before. His breath came harder through his nose, warmer now, and the tremor that passed through his body wasnât subtle.
Your hand moved without thinking, splaying over his chest, your palm landing just above his heart. His skin was hot beneath your touch, his muscles taut, breathing ragged and uneven. He made a sound that was sharp, surprised, almost a growl, shook through his throat and into your mouth, and your body reacted before your mind could make sense of it. Your gasp was soft but clear, lips parting, and in that instant, he surged forward, tongue sliding against yours in a motion so smooth and shameless you whined into the kiss without meaning to.
Neteyam did not wait. His hands slid down your sides, fingers pressing into your waist as he pulled you fully into his lap, positioning you over his thighs with a possessiveness you had never seen from him before. His body was hot, his pulse thudding beneath your hand like a drumline, and when your hips settled against his, the moan he swallowed into your mouth vibrated through every inch of him. His hands moved freely now, no longer hesitantâone gripping your lower back, the other slipping up your spine, fingers brushing the knots of your necklace, the dip of your waist, the curve of your ribs. The noise that left him was low, pathetic, as if he couldnât contain the sensation of having you so close, so pliant, so willing.
Your tails flicked between you, brushing, curling, twisting in the chaotic rhythm of your bodies. His moved like it was alive with its own hunger, wrapping and twitching, a mirror of his building tension. Yours betrayed every spike of surprise, each involuntary thrill that coursed through you with every glide of his tongue against yours, every possessive pull of your body closer. Your breathing grew unsteady, helpless against the way his touch mapped you like a newly discovered land, like he wanted to learn every inch of you through fingertips and lips alone.
Neteyamâs hand slid up, into your hair, searching with purpose. His fingers caught the thick braid that lay over your shoulder, and he gave it a firm tug, sharp enough to jolt your attention. Your lips parted from his with a wet gasp, eyes wide, lips damp and swollen. You blinked up at him in dazed confusion, a sound barely escaping you. You didnât speak, but your expression asked everything: What is it?
He stared at you, lips parted, chest rising in quick, uneven heaves, his golden eyes darkened and wild. His mouth opened, the beginning of a thought taking form on his tongue, the truth curling just behind his teeth.
But before he could speak, the branches overhead rustled.
Not in the distant way of wildlife. Not in the idle, lazy way wind tousles the leaves. This was footsteps.Â
Neteyam froze.
The tension in his body snapped taut, like a bowstring drawn too far, and his entire frame locked beneath you. His hands went still. His eyes widened in alarm, lips still hovering close to yours, his breath caught like a trapped animal.
Neytiriâs silhouette slipped through the canopy.
The sight of her; tall, radiant, fierce, descended like cold water over hot stone, hissing through the air. Her presence was quiet but impossible to ignore, a gaze sharp enough to pierce bark and bone alike. She said nothing at first. She only stood, eyes moving slowly between you and her eldest son, face confused.
Neteyam reacted fast. Too fast.
His hands gripped your waist and lifted you off him in one fluid, practiced motion, depositing you onto the soft ground beside him as though your body had burned him. His posture straightened, jaw clenched, tail tucked tight around his thigh, ears snapping back flat in alarm. He looked every bit the warrior-in-training again, despite the rapid flush of color that still stained his cheeks, and the unmistakable wet shine on his lips.
Neytiri stared at you both, her brow arched, arms crossing over her chest. âWhat is this?â
You blinked at her. A beat passed. Neteyam looked one gust of wind away from fainting, and your own heart thudded high in your throat.
You smiled.
Sweet. Innocent. Like the question was about gathering berries or collecting beads.
âKissing,â you announced brightly, tilting your head. âWe were kissing!â
Neteyam made a noiseâa strangled, horrified groanâas his hands flew to his face, dragging down across his features in sheer disbelief.
LMFAOOOOOO i struggle with writing him so much but like i said he is such a funny character. just lying abt what his dad said.. ik what u r neteyam.
the avatar's girl âËđđËâ aang x reader
âËđđËâ synopsis: ember island always holds surprises, and this time it's no different when aang surprises you with how jealous he can get.
âËđđËâ content warningsïŸtags: very suggestive, fem!reader, jealous!aang, established relationship, bickering, possessiveness, ass grabbing, neck biting, hickeys, light hair pulling, marking, overstimulating, lowercase intended, not proofread
âËđđËâ author's note: i think aang is my new muse lmao!! i'm still learning how to write him, as i'm not confident with how i characterize him. but i love him so much, and he's my absolute favorite to write! <33
the sun over ember island was relentless, but for once, it didnât feel like a burden.Â
it was a burning, golden heat that soaked through aangâs skin and settled deep into his bones, melting away the tight knots of tension that had lived in his shoulders for months. back in republic city, every breath he took felt like it belonged to a hundred different peopleâcouncil members, builders, acolytes who bowed too low and looked at him like he was a statue instead of a person. here, the only thing he owed anyone was a decent pass in beach volleyball.
he stood on the sand, toes digging into the warm, white grains, and let out a long, slow exhale. it was strange to be an adult and still feel that same giddy buzz in his chest heâd had as a kid. the war was a lifetime ago, a heavy shadow that had finally receded into the background of history, leaving him with this: a quiet afternoon, the smell of salt spray, and the sound of his friends laughing. he didn't have to be the bridge between worlds today. he was just a guy on vacation with the people he loved.
the ocean air was crisp, carrying the distant scent of charcoal and roasting sea-prunes from a nearby vendor. aang watched appa lounging in the shallow surf, the massive sky bison letting out a low, rumbling groan of contentment as the waves lapped against his fur. it was perfect. his mind, usually a cluttered mess of treaties and air nomad restoration plans, felt completely still. he felt lighter than he had in years, as if the gravity of the world had finally decided to give him a break.
"zuko, check this out!" aang shouted, breaking his own peaceful silence. he shifted his weight, his feet carving arcs in the sand as he moved through a firebending form heâd been practicing. it was a dragon dance variation, fluid and bright. he punched the air, sending two spiraling ribbons of flame into the sky that twisted together like braids before dissipating into orange sparks.
zuko was sitting on a nearby rock, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression fixed in that familiar, stony scowl that had barely changed since they were sixteen. he didn't even blink as the fire scorched the air inches from his line of sight. "your footwork is sloppy," zuko muttered, his voice dry and bored. "you're overextending your lead hand. youâre showing off, not bending."
aang puffed out his cheeks, his brows drawing together in a mock pout. "iâm not showing off, i'm expressing my joy through the medium of combustion! plus, that spiral was perfectly symmetrical. admit it, youâre impressed."
"i'm moderately annoyed," zuko corrected, though the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed him. he adjusted his position, his eyes drifting away from aang's fire and toward the spot where you were lying out on a towel.
you were a few yards away, eyes closed, soaking up the afternoon rays. the sun turned your skin into something glowing and warm, and you looked so peaceful that aang felt a fresh wave of affection hit him. he started to turn back to his forms, wanting to try a more complex kick, but he noticed zukoâs eyes narrow. his brow furrowed, a sharp crease forming between his eyes as he stared past aang.
aang tilted his head, following zukoâs gaze. two guys had approached your towel. they were typical ember island typesâbroad shoulders, deep tans, and expensive-looking silk trunks. they were standing over you, blocking your sun, and you were sitting up now, blinking against the brightness. your expression was one of mild confusion, your head tilted as they spoke to you.
"hey there," one of the guys said, his voice carrying easily over the sound of the waves. he had a wide, confident smirk that looked like it had been practiced in a mirror. "don't think we've seen you around this part of the beach before. you from the city?"
you smiled, that polite, friendly smile you gave to everyone. "just visiting for the week," you told them, rubbing the back of your neck. "the water's great today, isn't it?"
the second guy leaned in, his eyes scanning you in a way that made aangâs stomach do a weird, uncomfortable flip. "the water's fine, but the view up here is way better," he drawled, his voice dripping with an obvious, oily charm. "that's a great bikini, by the way. color really suits you."
you laughed, a small, genuine sound, and thanked them. you started chatting with them about the local shops, oblivious to the way they were looming over you, their intentions written in every hungry look they exchanged. to you, they were just locals being nice. to aang, they were two guys who were very clearly trying to take something that wasn't theirs to take.
aang felt a prickle of heat beneath his skin that had nothing to do with the sun. he turned back to zuko, his eyes wide and frantic. "zuko, what are they doing? they're talking to her. theyâreâtheyâre doing the thing, aren't they? the flirting thing?"
zuko let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping. "yes, aang. they are very obviously hitting on your girlfriend. itâs not exactly subtle."
"well, what do i do?" aang hissed, his hands flying up to grip his own head. "do i go over there? do i blow them away with a gust of air? no, thatâs too aggressive. do i just... walk by and casually mention that i'm the avatar? no, that's arrogant. help me out here, you're the one who grew up in the fire nation! whatâs the ember island protocol for this?"
zuko looked at him like he was a particularly dim-witted turtle-duck. "just go over there and be a person, aang. stand next to her. remind her you exist. itâs not a military maneuver."
"i can't just 'be a person'!" aang whispered-shouted, his face flushing a bright, embarrassed pink. "itâs weird! if i go over there now, i'll look like i'm hovering. i don't want to be a hovery boyfriend. but look at them! the tall one just touched her arm! heâs touching her, zuko!"
"then go stop him," zuko snapped, though he made no move to get up himself. "or don't. but quit vibrating. youâre making the sand jump."
"you're useless at advice," aang grumbled, his heart hammering against his ribs as he watched you laugh at another one of their jokes. "honestly, how did you ever get mai to date you? did you just scowl at her until she gave in?"
zukoâs eyes flashed with annoyance. "we are not talking about me. we are talking about you and your complete lack of social backbone. either go claim your territory or shut up and let me tan in peace."
aang opened his mouth to retort, his face flushing a deeper shade of scarlet that matched the trim of his air nomad robes, but he was cut off by a heavy arm dropping over his shoulders. sokka stood there, looking far too smug for his own good, with his other arm slung casually around sukiâs waist. he was holding a half-eaten skewer of grilled squid, gesturing with it toward the two guys hovering over your towel.
"i hate to say it, buddy, but the fire lord is right," sokka said, taking a loud, aggressive bite of his snack. "youâre letting those guys move in on your perimeter. theyâre basically planting their flag on your beachhead while youâre over here playing with matches. itâs embarrassing for the whole team, really."
zuko rolled his eyes so hard he practically groaned, leaning back against his rock. suki, however, leaned forward, giving aang a look that was less judgmental and more filled with genuine pity. she saw the way his fingers were twitching, the way his gray eyes kept darting back to you as you laughed at something the blonde guy said.
"ignore him, aang," suki said softly, reaching out to pat his arm. "you don't need to be aggressive. but you should probably go over there and just remind them who you are to her. be confident. youâve faced much worse. two guys in silk shorts shouldn't make you sweat this much."
aang huffed, kicking at a mound of sand. "i know! i don't know why i'm so jumpy. people flirt with me all the time, and usually, i just laugh it off. itâs just... theyâre so close to her. and theyâre looking at them like theyâre a prize or a trophy."
the feeling in his chest was a strange, hot pressure. he was used to being the center of attention, used to being the avatar, but seeing you being targeted by that specific kind of predatory charm made his air feel thin. he wasn't a mean personâthe monks had taught him about detachment and peaceâbut those lessons felt miles away whenever someone elseâs eyes stayed on you for too long. he felt less like a master of four elements and more like a nervous kid who didn't want to lose his favorite person.
finally, aang took a breath, puffing out his chest and trying to channel some of that earthbending stubbornness toph was always yelling at him about. he started walking, his feet heavy in the sand, moving with a purpose that felt forced and natural all at once. as he got closer, his enhanced hearing picked up the blonde guyâs voice.
"look, there's this bonfire tonight at the cove," the guy was saying, leaning down further so he was practically in your personal space. "lots of music, lots of drinks. youâd be the star of the night. why don't you let us pick you up around eight?"
aang didn't wait for your answer. he moved with a sudden burst of speed, his hand reaching out to grab your arm and gently, but firmly, pulling you up from the towel. you let out a little gasp of surprise, stumbling against him, and his other hand immediately dropped down, landing squarely and heavily on your ass. his fingers curled slightly, a possessive grip that sent a shock through your system.
"hey there!" aang chirped, his voice bright and airy, though his eyes were sharp as flint. he turned a beaming, thousand-watt smile toward the two guys, who both straightened up, looking startled by his sudden appearance. "sorry to interrupt! i hope my girlfriend hasn't been boring you with stories about the city."
before you could even get a word outâbefore you could ask why his hand was currently squeezing your backside in broad daylightâaang leaned in. his hands moved to cup your face, his thumbs pressing into your cheeks, and he pulled you into a kiss that was anything but his usual sweet, chaste affection.
it was long. it was dramatic. it was an ownership statement written in the language of breath and heat. he tasted of the salt air and the lingering warmth of the sun, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips with a hunger that made your toes curl into the sand. he tilted your head back, exposing the line of your throat to the two strangers, making sure they saw exactly how you melted into him. his heart was hammering against your chest, a frantic thud that betrayed his nerves even as he dominated the space. your brain felt like it was short-circuiting, your hands coming up to clutch at his bare chest for balance as the world narrowed down to the feeling of his mouth on yours.
when he finally broke apart, he didn't let go of you. he kept you tucked into his side, his hand returning to its firm grip on your hip, his fingers digging into your skin. you were dazed, your lips swollen and your eyes wide with confusion. "aang, whatâ"
"a party?" aang cut you off, looking back at the two guys who were now looking a bit less confident. "that sounds like a blast! my friends and i were just looking for something to do tonight. we can all go together, right? the more the merrier!"
he forced his smile to stay wide, but he was glaring at them over his cheeks, his eyes narrowed into slits of gray ice. the tall guy cleared his throat, shifting his weight. "uh, yeah. sure. everyone's welcome. weâll... see you there, i guess."
"great! can't wait!" aang said, his voice dripping with a cheerfulness that felt like a threat.
the guys took the hint, mumbles of "see ya" following them as they quickly made their exit. the moment they were out of earshot, aangâs smile dropped. he didn't even look at you; he just grabbed your wrist and started dragging you toward the path that wound up toward zukoâs massive beach house.
"aang! stop! what is wrong with you?" you protested, digging your heels into the sand to try and slow him down. "and what was that back there? you were being so weird!"
"i wasn't being weird," he snapped, his voice low with a tension youâd rarely heard from him. he didn't slow down, leading you toward the house. "i was being thorough. they didn't get the hint, so i had to give it to them."
"thorough? you practically marked me!" you shouted as you reached the stairs of the house. you wrenched your arm away, standing your ground on the porch. "those guys were just being friendly, aang. they were inviting me to a party. there was no reason to go all... intense on them. it was embarrassing!"
aang spun around, his face flushed and his eyes blazing. the air around him began to swirl in sympathetic agitation, a small dust devil forming at his feet. "friendly? you think that was friendly? they were looking at you like you were a piece of meat! they were flirting with you right in front of me! and you were just smiling and laughing along like you didn't even care!"
"i didn't notice they were flirting!" you yelled back, stepping into his space. "i thought they were being nice! and even if they were, so what? don't you trust me?"
"of course i trust you!" aang cried, his voice cracking slightly with the sheer weight of his emotion. he dragged you through the front door and slammed it shut, the sound echoing through the empty hallway. "i don't trust them! i don't trust the way they looked at you. i don't trust the way they thought they could just walk up and take your attention away from me. you're mine. youâre with me."
the bickering continued as he pushed you toward the stairs. he was pacing back and forth in the hallway, his hands flying through the air as he ranted about the "disrespect" and the "audacity" of the locals. he looked so young when he was angry, his eyes wide and wild, but the power behind his voice was all man.
"you have no idea how it feels," he hissed, not meaning to pin you against the wall near the top of the staircase. he wasn't trying to be scary, he just looked desperate. he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "to have the whole world always wanting a piece of me, and then to finally have one thing thatâs just for me... and then see some random guys try to touch it? no. absolutely not. i won't let them."
you tried to speak, but he silenced you by resting his forehead against yours. he was shaking, his breath coming in short, shallow bursts. his hand reached out, his fingers tangling in your hair, holding you in place not with force, but with a need so deep it felt spiritual.
"youâre the avatarâs girl," he whispered, his voice thick with a raw possessiveness that sounded more like a plea than a command. "and you better not forget it. i'm not sharing you with anyone. not today, not at some party, and not ever. i can't, i just can't."
without another word, he gripped your waist and practically hauled you toward the master bedroom, the door clicking shut behind you as he pulled you into his space. the sound of the latch was a final, heavy punctuation mark on the argument outside. aang didn't let go of you for even a second; he moved with that fluid, airbender agility that always made it feel like he was gliding, even when his footsteps were heavy with frustration.
you almost fell flat on your back as aang gently but firmly pushed you toward the center of the bed. you hit the soft mattress with a small bounce, your breath leaving you in a surprised puff. the yellow silk sheets felt cool against your sun-warmed skin, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating off of him.
"aang, stop!" you squealed, half-laughing and half-breathless as you tried to sit up. "weâre going to get sand everywhere! zuko will kill us if he has to hire someone to deep-clean the upholstery because we were too impatient."
aang didn't even pause. he hovered over you, his knees sinking into the mattress on either side of your hips, his shadow falling over you like a protective cloak. he dismissed your concern with a flick of his wrist, his eyes never leaving yours. "let him be mad," he muttered, his voice sounding deeper and raspier than usual. "iâll earthbend it away afterwards. i'll bend every single grain of sand out of this house if i have to. but right now, i don't care about the floor."
he leaned down, capturing your mouth in a quick, bruising kiss that tasted of urgency. it was over before you could even respond, his lips trailing down your jawline with a desperate kind of hunger. he found the sensitive spot just beneath your ear, his breath hot and ragged against your skin.
you giggled, the vibration of it traveling through your chest as your arms wrapped instinctively around his neck. your fingers tangled in the short, soft hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. "you really shouldn't be so jealous, you know," you whispered, your voice softening as you felt the tension in his shoulders start to bleed into something more primal. "youâve got me wrapped around your finger, aang. you're my favorite person. those guys don't even exist to me."
aang let out a low, muffled groan against your skin, his lips never leaving your neck. he pouted, a small, stubborn sound escaping his throat that was almost a whine. he was being kinda pathetic, clinging to you like he was afraid youâd evaporate into spirit-smoke if he loosened his grip. he began to suck at the soft skin near your collarbone, a persistent, rhythmic pressure that made your head tilt back.
"i don't like sharing," he murmured, his voice vibrating against your throat. "i have to share my time, my energy, my bending... i have to share everything with the world. i just want to keep one thing for myself. is that so wrong?"
he was being needy, his possessiveness manifesting in the way he kept his weight pressed firmly against you, pinning you to the bed. you felt a sharp, sudden sting of a hickey forming, and you let out a small gasp, your hands moving to his chest to lightly push him back.
"aang! stop, you're giving me marks," you scolded, though there was no real heat in it. "everyone will see! weâre supposed to go to that party later, remember? i can't exactly hide that with my dresses."
aang didn't pull away. instead, he became even more handsy, his touch wandering with a boldness that was usually reserved for the dark of night. one of his hands slid up, his palm cupping your tit through the thin, damp fabric of your bikini top. his thumb brushed against you, a slow movement that made your breath hitch. his other hand was already busy, his fingers hooking into the side of your bikini bottoms, tugging at the string with a focused intent.
he looked up at you then, his gray eyes dclouded with a mixture of lingering jealousy and overwhelming adoration. he watched your reaction, his chest heaving as he worked the fabric down your hips.
"good," aang said, his voice dropping into a gravelly promise that sent a shiver straight to your core. he paused for a second, his gaze sweeping over the marks heâd already left on your skin, his expression turning smug and fiercely satisfied.
he sat back on his heels for a brief moment, his hands moving to the waistband of his beach shorts. he tugged them off with a quick, decisive motion, discarding them somewhere on the sandy floor. he looked back down at you, a slow, complacent grin spreading across his faceâthe look of a man who had finally claimed his territory and had no intention of letting it go.
 "then everyone at the party will know you're my girl. they can look all they want, but they'll know exactly who you're coming home with."
i wanna write a part 2 of this ughgerguiersgheuarg
no because nobody understands how hard it was to find x reader fics of anyone in the gaang or atla fandom in general before this movie came out. now thereâs new fics coming out daily. I USED TO PRAY FOR TIMES LIKE THISâŒïž
Ghost doesn't like to touch people, everyone knows that. So why the hell is he touching you so often?
A hand cupped around your bicep in crowded halls, dragging you to the side when boisterous recruits pass through. Or on the small of your back in the tiny recroom kitchenette, as if steadying you against some unseen force.
You try not to acknowledge it. Privately, you kind of enjoy the touch and fear it will stop if you point it out.
But...the question still nags. Why? Why does his hand brush over your knee in the briefing room when he refuses to even wear short sleeves in fear someone will touch his bare skin?
You won't ask ghost, so you turn to the next best source.
"He's got a crush on you, dumbass." Kyle states, voice flat. He doesn't even look at you when he says it, instead placing a card down that makes soap swear.
"...what?" That can't be. You think back to all the interactions you've had with ghost, and none of them really stand out as flirty "no. No way. You misunderstood me, garrick, it's not like a flirty touch, it'sâ"
"Casual?" Soap cuts off, drawing a card from the deck "like holding your shoulder or back when you walk together?"
"Uhm. Yes." You nod, brows furrowed. Sure, it's a bit familiar, but nothing more than what two friends would do. "Yeah, and sometimes hold my knee when we sit together. I think it's a comfortâ"
"Ooh, knee holding? He wants to fuck you real bad, huh?" Kyle snorts, placing down another card and completely ignoring your indignant gasp. Finally, he actually turns to you with the fakest sympathetic look you've ever seen.
"Think of it like this." He offers "ghost isn't touchy with anyone. So doesn't it make sense for it to be a big deal when he does touch someone? Like, I don't know, a crush?"
"Uhâ" you open your mouth to retort, but actually...kyles logic makes sense. The idea makes all those feelings you've been ignoring about ghost resurface. "I...I need to go. Bye."
"Use a rubber!" Gaz yells as you speed you. You still manage to flip him off.
JOBE is sitting on the bathroom floor of your room while you finish getting ready in front of the mirror. His gaze never leaves your profile, drawing a suppressed smile from youâthough, truth be told, you can't keep it suppressed for long.
When he grows tired of beingâoh, so far away from youâhe stands up and lean against the vanity right where your makeup is spread out, occasionally leaning in to press quick, light kisses onto your cheek, all while being careful not to ruin your makeup.
You still can't quite wrap your head around how Dortmund's number 7âthe guy who argues with referees and looks downright terrifying when he gets frustrated during a matchâcan be so gentle and loving with you.
Perks of being his girlfriend, you suppose.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured casually after planting another kiss on your flushed cheekâflushed either from makeup or in reaction to the way he was looking at you, as if you were the most beautiful woman in the entire galaxy.
His accent becomes more pronounced whenever his voice drops, making him look far more attractive than he already is.
"Yeah?" you said, your hand resting gently against his cheek; you felt his head nod as he planted a kiss on your shoulder, looking at your eyes through the mirror.
"Well," you added, knowing the reaction youâd get from what you were about to say, "you're not far behind."
His immediate response was to bury his face in your neck, making you feel his smile against your skin, and you let out a soft laugh.
Thereâs that shy version of him you loved.
You both remained in that positionâhis face buried in the crook of your neck while his long arms wrapped around your waist, holding you from behind as you applied the finishing touches to your makeup before finally putting on your lipstick.
âI'm going to put on my lipstick; if you're going to kiss me, do it now.â
You offered with a smile, and just as you had imagined, you didn't have to wait long for him to pull away from your neck and cradle your face, kissing you with a blend of intensity and tenderness that made you laugh at his eagerness and brought a smile to his own face.
Reader who has a real job and actual bills. Reader who prioritizes her own peace over his feelings. Reader who has hobbies that donât revolve around a man. Reader who actually has a life outside of him. Reader who says ânoâ and means it. Reader who isn't easily impressed. Reader whoâs petty. Reader who has trust issues. Reader who chooses her girls every single time. Reader who has a body count and isn't ashamed of it. Reader who is exhausted by male fragility. Reader who holds grudges. Reader whoâs a mess. Reader whoâs mentally ill. Reader who makes mistakes. Reader whoâs manipulative. Reader whoâs selfish. Reader whoâs morally gray. Reader whoâs awful. Reader who genuinely doesnât give a fuck.
