#aang avatar

[renariontea]

sıllıes

[bae-fong]

꩜𖦹༄ avatar aang who cries when you're riding him

aang didn't expect this.

he never expected sexual acts to be so… animalistic, profound, and extremely filthy. missionary was all he knew—then, with your encouragement, he started leaning into different positions like doggy style and the mating press. but this one you were doing right now?

this was his favorite of all.

you with his cock deep inside your tight pussy, your walls warm and tight as you rode him sensually back and forth—taking every agonizing inch of him like the good girl you were.

your face was twisted with pleasure, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you rode him. it was too much, he was too big—aang knew that for a fact. but your little whimpers as you tried your best to take him all made his heart clench.

fuck. you were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on.

"don't stop, baby," aang rasped, his hands tightening on your hips. "fuck. mph.. just like that."

"aang…?" you whimpered, your hips faltering just slightly.

he paused. oh no. had he hurt you? did he grab your hips too tightly? was he stretching you out too much for you to handle?

"you're…" you swallowed hard, a finger coming up to wipe away a tear that he hadn't even realized had slipped down his cheek. "crying!"

crying? he couldn't believe it. he was the avatar, for fucks sake. and now he was reduced to a crying man, completely undone and helpless over his girlfriend's little pussy.

"sorry—it just… feels too good. you squeezin' me like that… can't help it, sweet girl," he choked out.

"are you hurt?" you asked softly.

"i'm not hurt," he promised, his thumbs rolling soothing circles against the warm skin of your hips to reassure you. "fuck, i'm the exact opposite of hurt. just keep going. please."

[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.”

[littlesillyladybug]

aang just wants to make it up to you :(

Includes: sub!aang . dry humping. nipple play . piv . teasing . whiney aang . dom!reader if youd call it that . artcreds : cruxifixe_

──────────────────────

“thanks katara..” aang lets out quietly, fiddling with his fingers in his lap. she just smiles sweetly, “no problem.”

Standing near the entrance of the tent holding a bowl of water that she just used to heal aang, walking out she makes sure to wish you both a good night, “goodnight guys.”

“night.” you both reply yet yours comes out short and blunt, tone a bit stiffer than usual. standing on the other side of the tent occupying yourself with anything else other than the sad puppy sitting behind you.

the tent was filled with awkward silence. the two of you inches apart while he tries to figure out how to make this up to you. him and his recklessness messing things up once again.

he glances up, your back the only thing within his view. you could hear the blankets shift under him, then the sound of his light footsteps getting heavier the closer he gets to you. refusing to even acknowledge him, you continue to fold the cloths in front of you.

he hesitates wanting to slide his arms around your waist, feeling the heat of your body radiate off of you, he decides to just wait.

“i’m okay.” he reassures. you keep yourself facing forward, away from him acting as if these cloths are much more important than anything he has to say. “really. look i’m okay!”

he tries again after being met with your silence, he frowns looking down, hands messing with the fabric of his pants.

“I’m sorry. look—” his tone holds a bit more panic behind it, he hates the silent treatment especially from you. he reaches, turning you around abruptly. “see i’m fine!”

your eyes were red and swollen from crying a bit ago, watching him fall in the snow after fainting in the air. at first glance you didn’t know if he was okay, so when you ran over to him in the thick snow tripping over your own feet you couldn’t stop crying. all for him to lay there and wake up with a stupid grin on his face, “wow, that hurt..”

like he didn’t just fall feet from the air. then proceeded to wonder why you were so sad but then your sadness turned to anger when you felt he didn’t understand. so yea you were mad at him. really mad.

so why is his tongue basically down your throat right now? your palms pressed flat against his chest while he held the back of your head in his hand, holding you in place even as you squirm around in his arms.

why is his leg wedged in between your legs? yet, you lightly grind against him despite yourself, pushing him back at the same time. He smiles against you, earning himself slight burns from you. The pads of your fingertips leaving small marks on his chest.

The small smell of burnt skin filled your nostrils, biting the bottom of his lip as he winced.

Why were you still climbing on top of him despite being pissed right now? your thighs settling on each side of him, his hands sliding up your bare thighs onto your hips after you left your pants on the floor.

“I’m still mad at you.” the cutest pout on your face even as you leaned a bit back to angle yourself better against him, grinding into him ever so slowly. His brows furrow at the friction, “Yea?”

“yea.” you didn’t stop, keeping that slow torturing rhythm. The damp spot on your panties becoming more and more visible with each passing agonizing second. His grip tightens the harder you press, pre leaking at his tip.

He bucks his hips up into you just barely, creating more friction. You whimper at his sudden movement, glaring at him to meet his oh so unapologetic eyes. Aangs fingers slip up into the waistband of your panties, tugging lightly.

“Stop it.” He only hums in response, eyes dropping and dragging over the way you rock your hips against his, coming back up to meet your flushed gaze.

“Stop what?” he asked innocently, lips curling up into a lazy smirk, bucking his hips once more. This time you fall forward, smacking your hands against his chest, palms heating as one reaches back to stroke over the hardened cock twitching in between your clothed folds.

His smirk falters immediately, a small pathetic whine leaving his lips. Slowly, you pull his waistband back, freeing his sticky hot and bothered cock. He throws his head back into the pillow, biting his bottom lip in sexual frustration.

“Please..” he whispers. “Please what?”

“Let me feel you.” he begged desperately, tired of your endless teasing, he digs his fingers into the fat of your sides. Your eyes widened when he looked back at you with tears prickled in the corner of his eyes. The sight did something to you, and for the first time in tonight you smiled.

“Oh.. well..” you drag. “I don’t think you deserve it.”

You push back against him, dangerously smirking with this teasing look in your eyes. The palm of your hand twisted against his tip, wrapping your hand around it and pressing your thumb over his slit. His whole body jerking underneath you.

“Shit, shit. I don’t.” He whimpered, head falling back on the pillow in pain?

“Yea, you don’t.” Yet, you find yourself pushing your underwear to the side anyway. Find yourself lining him up with your slick soaked entrance. Lifting and sinking yourself onto him steadily. The stretch burning you to your core, burning just the way you need it to.

And Aang? He feels like he could cum just from the contact alone. It takes you a moment to adjust to his size before you set a gentle body rocking pace, your hands set on his chest. Fixing your thumbs over his hardened nipples, Aangs face twisting in new found pleasure as you twist and pull at them.

He closes his eyes when you lean down, expecting you to put your mouth around it, instead you suck a hickey right below it. Smiling at the flustered look on his face after you looked back up, giving him exactly what he wants, you stick your tongue out to lick and flick the swollen nub, rolling the other in between your fingers as you do so.

Grunts turned into breathless whines escape his throat, “Fuck.”

He lies there helpless as if he couldn’t do anything about this punishing pace you set, in fear of you getting more upset with him. You let go of him, pulling yourself off with a wet pop, licking your lips as you stare at his bruised pec on the left side, feeling the upmost proud of yourself. But, you hadn’t moved in minutes, basically cock warming him at this point, he winces at the throb of his cock.

Catching his pained expression in the corner of your eye, you glance up, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek, “Sorry.”

You lift yourself up far enough to sink back down onto him, throwing your head back in pleasure as you picked up the pace. Rubbing his fat tip along your honeyed walls, soft moans slipping past your lips while you close your eyes in bliss. Aang moans under you, cursing under his breath when you tighten around him as he hits that spongy spot so deeply.

He thrusts his hips up, meeting yours in a mean snap, a fuzzy feeling coiling up in your stomach. His thrusts never falter chasing the way you squeeze around him as he bullies that one spot. The pupils in his eyes turning into little hearts as he watches you ride him so sensually, “Mm.. you look so pretty like this.”

Oh, but you hear nothing he says, stars sitting in your eyes as you mutter ‘Im cumming’ body pulsing as you come undone on top of him, slowing and rocking while you come down from your high. Aang hasn’t come yet, and he was fed up. You just played and toyed with him, cumming all on your own and not even worrying about him.

In one swift motion, he flips you flat onto your stomach.

“Aang!?” you yell in confusion. He grips your hips, pressing them into a mean arch as he slaps his hips against yours. Filling you so deeply, you cum all over again, eyes rolling into the back of your head when he ruts into a spot you didn’t even know you had.

You melt into straight putty, letting him thrust and rut into you as he pleased. The base of his cock coated in your mixed stickiness. “Fuck, baby, I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, I love you.” he babbled, painting your insides with his thick pretty load, hips stuttering as your tight pussy clenched around him, squeezing him of every last drop. “Mmph— baby, I’m so sorry.”

You don’t even know what he’s apologizing for anymore, being stupid? fucking you stupid? Who fucking knows.

[tteokdoroki]

🛞 TAKING SPACE ✩  aang .ᐟ

🏁 pit stop ! 𖦹 aang has always taken up space, in your heart, your mind and amongst the things that you own. he's larger than life and perhaps, larger than what you can physically take. (6K)

🏁 safety car ! ⋆ not safe for work ⋆ smut ⋆ eighteen plus only. aang the last airbender, sorta canon compliant, characters are adults, established relationships, size kink, strength kink, condescension, fingering ( f!receiving ), just the tip, unprotected sex, cumming inside, he glows when he cums. avatar aang, fem reader.

🏁  team radio ! ⋆ hey ... hi ... what started out as a little silly thought turned into something very crazy. so very crazy. this is for @peachversace with a little help from @bfbkg at the end hehe !! aang is so fine guys im gonna tear my teeth out. anyways i rlly hope u like mwah sorry for any typos !! click for more. 

── © tteokdoroki ╱ 2026.

aang has always taken up space.

if you were to try and pinpoint the exact centre of the solar system, you would probably start with him. his personality glows, like the golden delicious flicker of sunlight on your skin as it wades through tree leaves and breaks through a canopy with ease. if a planet were to die because the sun stopped burning, you think you’d feel the same if aang suddenly went away. the two are comparable. objectively. 

he regards strangers with the same amount of kindness as a child with no clue on how the world works would. wide eyed, uncaring — a friend of a friend until there is a reason to find someone an enemy. one might say that it’s his greatest weapon, another, his fatal flaw. aang’s larger-than-life smile, all teeth and dazzled eyes, is the glue that keeps you all together, the one person that seals the space as though it were some kind of bonding. the same space he takes up. his heart is large with room for all, including you, always you. even if it took time to see beyond the blinding light and notice.

aang takes up physical space too. 

you have no idea when you started having to crane your neck up to get a glimpse of him. when the short boy, with the wildest dreams and weight of everything on his shoulders, started towering over you without looking down at you. you can’t remember when he turned stocky, and his shoulders broadened to rival the wingspan of those who feel just as at home in the sky as he does. it’s hard to place when his welcomed hugs stopped feeling like a warm kiss from the sun and started stoking the same level of heat deep within as if someone had thrown coal onto a fire and left it to burn into ash for the wind. if aang were to hug you now, you’d only be able to think about his size, and how it could crush you. with all that muscle and all that strength — it fills you with greed.

vacancy and blankness become common themes in your mind whenever the avatar dares to be near. he leans down to your height, an easy going smile slanted onto his lips with the type of carelessness that comes with throwing caution into the wind too many times to count. “hm?” he’ll often say, as though the added height makes it harder to hear and aang is always so keen to listen, clinging onto your every word as though it’s ancient scripture. you’ve never had this problem before, not growing up glued to his side and watching him become the world’s hero — at least you think. 

perhaps your heart has always fluttered for him like petals in a breeze.

it’s just worse. now that you know each other intimately. 

aang takes up space.

the tent you’ve set up for the night feels cramped, fit for a bird who doesn’t dare fly free. what one might call a prison, another would call a dwelling for something precious. the width of his shoulders, down to the angular taper of his torso are somehow large enough to shield the bare bones of your body from any one who may happen to pass by. you feel sheltered underneath him, daunted by his mountainous shape that seems to cast a shadow over you — one where you can hide the quiver in your bottom lip, not from fear but from anticipation. a root in your lungs that intermingled with the bronchial trees that help you breathe. the root then florets and flutters, bringing a pleasant tingle south of where your mind grows misty as though a cool fog has broken over a calm body of water. 

it’s all because of how…thickset and strapping he’s become. 

your dainty fingers traverse the mountainous man like an explorer trying to reach the top, you feel the way the jus les in aang’s back ripple and interlock underneath his clothes that strain to keep him contained. he peers down at you with a kind of … alluring patience. the fact that he’s willing to wait, won’t use his strength against you, worsens the lurch of lust in your lower stomach and between your thighs which part to make room for his waistline. through the smog that clouds your sensibilities, you manage to take a peek at the avatar, let your gaze fall over the edge to admire the sights of his plush heaving chest and the sky blue arrowhead markings that he wears proudly on his sleeves — you can’t believe how beautiful he is. that he’s yours. that he puts his shoes next to your own when he steps into your home, that he’s got a favourite pillow on his side of the bed that you share, that he—!

“are you sure you want to do this?” his voice breaks through the clouds like a striking ray of sunshine ready to ghost its warmth over your skin. when you blink, aang is already looking, already analysing you the way one would read over their favourite passage in a book to make sure they hadn’t missed anything. he drinks in the details of your visage, the breathless part of your lips and the dilation to your sparkling eyes — there’s hunger within them, an appetite only aang has the ability to appease. he knows the answer to his question before he’s even asked it, unspoken as the words hang his perfect pearly white teeth. hooked there like they’re the keys to your heart.  

“aang,” your heart, that organ of yours — the one that keeps you alive and present and in the moment. it skips a beat, enough to make you notice but not enough to make you worry. it won’t beat out of your chest, you won’t die of a heartache if the way he looks at you doesn’t kill you first. something out of history, something timeless to be admired for generations to come. you wait for your heartbeat to settle under the nightly ambience outside of your tent, though you’re sure aang might have picked up on it already. “i said yes.” 

he leans away from you to shrug off a flurry of orange and yellow fabrics — revealing a battle scarred and well-carved body. there’s so many colours within aang, the sun, the sky at golden hour, the brilliant blue of the morning, the stormy grey whirling in his eyes. he could be a painting, a work of art they’d speak of for millennia to come… but he’s yours. taking up space in your mind as though he hasn’t a dime of rent to pay.

there were times where you’d hesitate to reach out and touch the avatar, to smooth over the sketching of his scars in the middle of his chest. now you’re sure, certain, pressing your fingers into it because it has to mean something. you have to affect him as much as he affects you. 

“aang.” you repeat all the letters of his name, seriousness stirred between them — blending like honey in milk.

an infallible, perhaps teetering on the edge of omniscient, beam breaks out on the smooth canvas of the avatar’s face. no longer youthful like you remember, but older, handsomely aged like a brew perfected over time. “if you’re positive.” he says, cheerful — so maybe a little childlike, tongue darting out to playfully nip your fingers that now cup his chin. wagging his clean shaven head from side to side.

so handsome, there’s barely enough room in your head to think anything else in the world could be this pretty.

you almost forget that you’re bare. naked as the day you were born. you shudder when aang’s bare hand presses firm against your sternum — warm because, of course, he’s the avatar who can bend the elements at his skilled will. it’s heated a touch, but still goosebumps rise on your skin in a tidal wave, and your nipples harden into whipped peaks. aang ignores them in search of something more, not that he doesn’t want to take his time with you. you’re just undeniable, you’ve been waiting all day for more than intimately placed touches and soft lips against your forehead. there’s more he intends to give to you. 

the avatar finds your slick entrance with the kind of practised ease only a man in love would possess. there’s no need for guidance when he can effortlessly find the points and spots that have you dulcetly drawling his name as though it’s one of your prized possessions. a best kept secret. a hidden treasure. two digits, thick and calloused, slide in with little to no resistance and curl almost instantly in search for your sweet spot — pressing down hard on the gooey nub nestled further along your walls. for the whole duration, aang waits for your silent please, consent for more, with baited breath. his lungs full of enough anticipatory air to give birth to a thunderstorm.

that’s all the sign he needs to navigate further south, follow the pulse of your blood flow to the aching buzz hardening in your clit. cheekily, the avatar tacks the pad of his thumb to the pleasure button, brushing it from side to side, round and round in tight circles — launching you into the stratosphere with what feels like a gust of blistering hot wind. meanwhile, his deft fingers between pudgy thighs get to work — the pace aang begins with reflects exactly who he is, unyielding and unpredictable. the intensity doesn’t build slow, it’s rapid akin to that of a dangerous river sectional. though his movements are not rushed, the flex of his wrist aids the two digits scissoring you open for the stretch that’s yet to come.

your entrance grows sappy and filthy around what manages to fit inside — filling you and dragging along your molten ichorous walls, so hot you’d put a fire bender to shame. the little squeaks  that escape you, airy and feather light layer messily over lewd squelching sounds echoing from between your shaky legs that tremble as though the earth has decided to split in two. grey eyes start to glimmer, mimicking the moonshine through nightly cloud cover, and a wry grin splinters on the avatar’s soft lips — a result of your precious cunt, making a spectacle around aang’s fingers. rippling and drooling down arrow shaped tattoos that twist around the length of his muscled arm and wrist. 

aang maps you out, travelling your gooey walls as though he’s trying to rediscover a place he once called home. familiar. welcoming. like discovering a new island, he pinions against pleasure spots lining your walls that you’d never be able to reach without him . although your tightness presents as resistance, the manner in which you paw at his wrist in a quiet plea for more and anything further to placate the twist in your gut, tells aang that you want this. need this. soaring high, aang flies you to new heights of ecstasy — sets your body adrift, floating above cloud nine.

he’s mesmerised, watching his favourite view, the squeeze of your cunt around him to prevent escape. each time his digits pump in and out of you, you cutely clench at the knuckle, as if to stop him from going too far. under the candle light, the avatar can’t help but flux into the giddy feeling like a slow drip of pale candle wax pooling at the base of its holder. simply knowing that he is the one making your pussy gush, translucent essence sliding down the length of your swollen slit and into the rustling fabrics below, licks his ego. stokes it like coals on a flame. 

“so wet here, so soft.” aang makes a sort of chuffing noise against your hairline, swooping down to level flat against the flooring of your tent. chest to chest, hearts beating in sync as though they’re drums following a similar tune. though aang’s voice dips low, the baritone register winding ropes within your lower stomach,  his intonation is cheery — bright like the sun at noon. “pretty baby, just look at you chasin’ it.” 

your hips twitch upwards at the avid taunting, called upon by his convincing siren’s song. you wonder if he’s bending your body in the same way he does with the four elements because you arch your back into the centre of him, magnetised by the lull of his heart beating for you. 

“someone’s impatient, easy baby.” neither mean nor gentle, aang divulges objective fact — sweat settling into the smile lines that bracket his subtle smirk. his teasing is as relentless as the press of his digits against the one special spot that clears your mind completely. he gives, gifting you another slab of arcadia until it stacks high to come tumbling down because aang has always been so, so kind. your quivering hole stretches wide over the broad stroke of his fingers, clear and sticky essence a glimmering glaze over them, wetter and wetter by the second beside you can’t stop bucking against their force. 

you point him in the right direction as he navigates your ecstasy, helping him erratically assault your pussy even though the avatar is more than capable of crumbling you like precious stone. but you burn everywhere, in your pelvis and your muscles pulled tight with the tension of holding back — flames burn at the oxygen nurturing your lungs and if aang weren’t the center star that boils to a billion degrees, the heat in your face would be enough to rival him. 

a dopey, delirious smile creates a habitat amongst your sweat-slicked features — carved against them like ancient scripture on stone only a man such as aang has the skill to decipher. “been waiting all day...” waiting for more than just hands under clothes. more than just yearning gazes swapped between the motions of your friends. “please, please, please. need you more…” the plea tastes like desperation against the tip of your tongue, the kind you only feel when your whole world is about to cave in, the sort that brings a tear to your eyes with the same sharp rapidness of a tidal boar. 

aang grounds you, soothes you, becomes the very force that brings you back to land out of fear the waters may wash you away. he takes up that space around your heart that knocks the beat down to a level that’s sustainable. with sweltering kisses marked against your hairline, chaste balmy from his own layer of perspiration, appearing almost like a second skin.  in response, a heatwave crashes through your body like a desert breeze — particles of unadulterated lust and hunger catching on the high points of your body. 

the back of the avatar’s head is clammy where you reach to it for leverage, crossing your arms at the back of his head. you bring the hardline of aang’s body against you, his stomach meeting yours with a wet slap because so much arousal has pooled there. his cock, leaky, hard and monstrous, rocks against soft flesh — jumping between you both like a glaring warning sign because he is just so big. 

“i don’t want to hurt you, might not be ready yet.” he says with the same restraint as a child being told to wait until after dinner for a sweet treat. aang is good, he regards you gently as though you’re something that might fracture with too much pressure — yet he knows what you can take, how much you can endure for the sake of losing yourself to him for a little while. just like his body on top of yours, aang’s large palm slots perfectly against your pussy — the seat of his palm grinding against your puffy clit alongside the rhythm of his thrusting fingers. nirvana begins to flash behind your eyes, blurting your vision as you blink up at him meekly. 

you like the burn. the stretch. the pain that comes with taking aang and he reads it in your darkening eyes, open like a book.

“it won’t hurt,” you argue back, though your words carry no weight. they taper into a cottony sigh, whisked away from the night’s breeze — icy against your temperate skin. sweat drops from his shoulders to your chest, glueing him to you. he’s a solid mass on top of you, contrary to the silky webbing of your mound, ruined beneath his fingers that work you unrelentingly. pleasure breaks through you like the sun rising above the horizon, highlighting the glow of your body as an orgasm nears. “please don’t make me wait, aang…”

aang chuckles, the weight of it carried by whirling winds and his fingers leave you for just a moment, an empty hole waiting to be filled – trembling without him. seamlessly, his delicate caress glides over your throbbing mound, growing cold and slick as time passes by. strings of clear, tarry elixir pruriently prevents his touch from straying too far from where you need him most. “you’re so pretty when you say please.” he exhales through his nose in a serene gust, spreading his fingers to watch your arousal web amidst them.

“aang–!”

“how about i make you cum?” he volunteers, and you despite the steamroll of fog starting to cloud your mind, you fail to miss the playful lilt that clings to his every word. it’s more of a statement than a suggestion, with aang riding the clouds between your thoughts, there’s no room to argue either. he acts first, on the same kind of brave impulse you’ve seen from him in battle many times before, delivering a few sappy love taps to your unattended sex. toying with you through a guise of a half-lidded smile that lures you into feeling safe.

he discerns your swollen clit from equally swollen folds once more, a muddlement of sin to be solved by one of the most powerful beings on earth, and draws his name across the hood of the sensitive little nub — drawing back the extra skin just to press your own slick into it. your back peels away from the tent’s flooring from where sweat had gathered to cleave the skin to it, trembling and twitching as you bow into aang, invade his space, crawl into it for sanctuary. though, in this safety net – you find yourself pincered, caught between his lips that descend upon yours and the lengthy, agile pointers that act with the alacrity of the sky’s breath. aang licks into your mouth briskier than your brain can keep up, stealing every soft breath and shackly snuffle that lays underneath your tongue. he tastes you like he’s losing a memory he wants to keep, tracking your flavour in your breezy breath before you have the sense to plead for more.

in due time, he’ll give it to you.

he’ll instimulate the careful crease between your brows and the petulant little pout that drags down the corners of your mouth even as you meet his with the same balance of the elements. harmonious and restorative all at once. he kisses you like it’ll heal him, the dulling phantom ache in his scars, the mass of loss in his past and the burdens of the future. you take it all to your lungs, inhale it into the space within your vital organs because pain like his should never be borne alone.

even still, the avatar hisses with a mix of awed ail when your nails break carmine crescent moons against the blue sails of his arrowhead tattoos. you grasp at his sinewy forearms for stability, something grounding like a plant taking root in new soils, and clench around dexterous digits that once more reclaim the claggy path of your ruined insides. whilst you howl like a storm’s winds and chase the seed of pleasure flourishing within your bubbling tummy – aang has a vision, like one of those who have walked the same path before him, casting imagery of hurricanes pulled from skies and storm clouds torn to little tufts in the name of you. 

because he loves you. 

your struggling, shuddering thighs and aerated gasps. the way you hold onto him like a lifeline as your orgasm brings you right to the edge of balance – the pendulum threatening to knock you off. aang’s fingers twist and brush amongst your sensitivity and it’s not long before all the pleasure that had been building crumbles under the tidal wave of arousal that crashes through you. “let go for me, baby,” he whispers earnestly against your cupid’s bow, hoping that it coaxes you along and unties the tightness lingering there. “there you go, good girl…” 

his words undo you like your binding holding you together never existed, weakened by time and attention. the care aang takes to bring you to heaven pushes you into release, one that has your juices splashing down the length of aang’s burly arms as though he’s squeezed a ripened fruit. all at once, you seize beneath him and gush into his palm seat, quaking through aftershocks where your cunt is the epicentre. he finds your mouth, fallen open in a whiney mewl, and wheedles you into a soothing wet kiss where tongue’s tangle and breathing draws ragged like the sharp edge of an earth-bended mountain.

once you’re calm, reduced to the gentle rock of a boat on the very water aang controls, your needy screams retreat too. everything melting  into soft pants and a dreamy gaze through your droopy eyelids. 

your appetite remains unruly, however.

“wan’ more.” you mumble in a quiet wisp – demanding, nearing playful. a challenge laying in the candle light like a trap for the avatar, plans barely concealed by the mirth swirling in your clearing, glassy eyes.

in their reflection, aang sees himself. body worn but spirit never tired of the games you play with one another. he heedily lowers you back to the flooring of the tent, arranges you neatly amongst fur pelts and blankets that soften like his leer on you.a picturesque view, skin shining like the surface of silk, thighs sticky with your body’s syrup, bare chest heaving like you’ve got oxygen to spare. you’re so beautiful it's easy to give into you. if there were any weakness the avatar were to possess, it would be you.

silence, bearable and conservant, is born between your bodies. it steals space, not unkindly, because you know aang’s quiet  gives way to his next actions, the plan he’ll take to bring you to bliss once more. his large palms, coarse from weathering the elements, span down your being again – through the valley of your breasts, down your sternum and into the soft fleshiness of your tummy.

“you’re sure?” he laughs, holding breath under his tongue. even as he questions you, aang shuffles onto his haunches to shred the last of his dignity – the fabric of his pants whirring across the tent.

your vision stoops low, following the arrows that point to the one thing you’ve been craving all evening. to say the avatar is … gifted… would be an under estimation – his shaft is ample in both size and weight, dripping from the dull tip and seedy slit, slightly curved with balls that are pink and plump. ripe with seed. you feel your stomach twitch underneath his touch and he does too – as though its preparing to take his size fully. grey eyes darken with a storm of lust once you find aang’s face again – merriment dawning on his features.

“you’ve asked me that a million times already,” you huff, cadence carrying petulance. “you don’t think i can handle you, avatar?’

he shakes his head. “i know what you can handle, i pay attention to your limits.” he says it like he knows something you don’t, a trick up his metaphorical sleeve to be unveiled the further this game advances. your move. it reads.

crawling over you once more, broad upper body blocking out the world and a slender waist shuffles between your thighs. aang is at your neck this time, gently nipping at your neck to leave his mark in the same manner that you’ve left one on his heart. saliva soothes the crease of his teeth indented into your skin, warm and distracting while the hands once at your stomach press into the lissome fat at your hips – manhandling you in the position he desires most. 

there’s no space between you know, not even a millimetre, ardent flesh bonding and soon to become one. the beat of your heart links like the next note of a song, nipples brushing sensitively as they harden under the night air. aang throws your legs over his wide-set shoulders, spreading you open and parting the webs of slick glueing together your swollen folds. a warm, gooey pressure burns against your entrance, his hips jutting forward to run his cock through the length of your slit – the sensation is not unwelcome, the slight sting of pain feels just like returning home after a long journey. where everything aches and nothing seems to settle.

his tip dully breaks through the translucent netting gathering at your entrance, gradually filling you inch by inch until you physically feel swole just from the tip. you flutter around him weakly, once for every throb of his girth against your nociceptive ridges.

only half of what he has makes it in, and even then, you experience the kind of fullness that comes with that of a full moon. hard to ignore, a sight to behold. you lift your lower half, circling your hips down to swallow what he offers, because too much is never enough and you have always been greedy when it comes to aang.

he’s a hero to the world, barely something you get to keep sacred and to yourself.

it’s hard to miss, impossible not to notice and aang bucks forward ever so slightly, rewarding you with more stretch, more burn, more of his cock. you suction around the rippling pang and clasp the back of his damp neck while your body accommodates for his size. “aang…m-more!’ your voice is raw, throat bobbing from the delighted tears you’ve been holding back and the avatar’s strong hands lift your lips higher, hoping it’ll alleviate the ache for more.

“baby, you’re being so greedy tonight, what’s with that?” the question slips into the sudden torrid atmosphere, though it’s amused – sitting behind a smile you can’t see ( it blurs as you sniffle ), aang groans. fractured, lust living between the cracks. “just take this much for now,” he doesn’t bottom out, only thrusts shallowly, letting the sweltersome head of his cock nudge your ribbed walls. “can’t give you all of my cock… have to be somewhere you can get help if it goes wrong,” 

that should be enough to destroy you.

aang fucks you half way down his length all whilst caging you in, his sweet mouse caught in a trap, pushing and pulling from your adorably selfish hole – beginning a sensual, swing to his own hips. you feel the wiry muscle of his thighs crook against your ass as the avatar practically puts you through the bedding. in your mind, aang makes up the middle of the universe, yet to him, your pleasure becomes the heart of his – he uses the strength bursting from his biceps to jerk you back and forth on what plugs you full. 

he is not rough, but focused, relishing in the juices you baste him in – smearing your juices along his hard stomach, where it pools against his tattoos and his belly button. the force he uses to roll into you lulls a symphony of whiney bleats from between your wet and kiss swollen lips, a sweet song that mingles with the soft slap of skin on skin filling your tent.

your body threatens to break once more, your arms like a loose neck tie around his thick throat and your shaky  hands finding purchase on his clean shaken head. all you can do is sink into him, let him overrule your body, taking it over— mind, body and soul. in return, he frees a hand to angles in your roots like the winds rushing through your hair, hugging you close so that you never fade away. even then he kisses you as though the world has taken you from him, too much all at once, overwhelming you with the curve of his tongue breaching realms beyond your pearly white teeth. aang tastes you, and tastes you, lips balmy  moving against yours with such vigor it nearly distracts you from the intensity of his thrusts.

where aang usually carries the scent of freshly cut grass and freedom – the fragrance twists into something more profane, the husk from your cunt and the sweat evaporating on your skin from how frequently it all meets. the atmosphere tingles with his devotion to you. 

your calves start to tingle where they violently shake on aang’s shoulders, every part of you spasms even down to your cunt that wraps around him like a vice. you feel ravaged, fractured, pathetically split open on his thickness even though it’s still only half. 

it doesn’t matter how you thrash and whine in a desperate effort to swallow another inch, aang remains sturdy above you. immovable. where the blankets and pelts begin to slip from the motion of your bodies working together, the avatar allows his mouth to cover you – silken spit drying against your breasts that bounce from passionate motion. he acts with the motion of a starved man who cannot go a second without another meal, tongue circling your areolas at a speed that matches the feverish punch of his weighty girth against your g-spot.

you cannot imagine a world without aang in it, without aang’s presence filling every corner like the sunrise in an empty room. kisses golden and glowing. the way he looks down at you like you’re worth a war and regards you with cool toned eyes that feel free of burden when you’re in view – draws you closer to a peak. there are so many feelings in aang’s eyes, slithering between your bodies, he fills you with more with each rut of his hips into yours, a creamy and lewd ring frothing around what doesn’t fit inside. 

“y-you’re so good,” you babble him earnestly, losing breath to his intensity, pussy pulsating over the prominent veins and ridges twirling around aang’s chubby girth. his thrusts pull and push at your spongy insides – bumping against pleasure spots you didn’t even know you had. “c-can you please just…give me more…?”

“you’re so needy, baby,” aang circles an arm around your waist and leans back on his haunches. his knees resting pelts whilst he manoeuvres himself  in a kneeling position. this time, he is able to bottom out fully, unexpectedly. he hits the hilt with a low, rumbling sound against the crown of your head – as if finally being sheathed inside of you has pulled him to pieces before you.“how’s this? d-deeper? fuller?”

in this new position, you’re sure you’ve crossed over to the spirit world. the new pressure is blinding, the assault on your g-spot is constant and mimics the ever-turning of the planet you live on. if you could, you’d cry out for the aid of a spirit but instead, through the lasciviousness lodged in your throat, his name is born like a prayer on your lips. “a-aang!”

“yeah, i know,” he mutters, overcome with emotion, eyes on you everywhere. the angelic contortions of your face, the drip of nectar from your hypersensitive cunt to his balls. everywhere.  “gods i know, you’re practically choking me out down there. that’s nice… so nice.”

your eyes become misty and aang’s voice becomes a murky strain, breaths of exertion coasting over your heated face as he strikes up an almost bullying, breezy pace to his slender hips as they pummel into your sex. now, he is able to hit deep — twist and turn your gummy organs up and drag over the sensitive ridges you can’t reach normally.

clawing at aang’s neck, you use the last of your vigour to grind against him. futile but sweet. your second release borders on pain since you’re spread over him, dull head of his cock near kissing the entrance to your womb. you asked for this, now you’re slumped and weak in his lap. a pathetic ragdoll that’s loved more than it’s toyed with. neither of you mind the fade in your endurance, after all the support and care you’ve given to aang through his hardest moments – he adores being able to return the favour like this. watch himself bulge in your tummy whilst your mind slips away from you. watch the faint part of your lips as you cry his praises and flit of your lashes whilst you attempt to hold his gaze.

“you like it better like this, i know.” aang coos, tone not too far off from wonder. lilt a little more than condescending. without disparaging his strength, he hauls you back and forth on his soiled shaft, a crude mix of precum and the sweet nectar your cunt drools helping him glide through your tightness.   “when i…. move you up and down up and down… there we go,” for the millionth time that night, he laughs. pure and bright, sparking your nerve endings. that’s when you gush, when the chord of tension snaps and you begin to violently convulse with your second orgasm.

he leans an arm past your back to steady himself with balls of air at his finger tips, other hand jumping up to span into the curve of your spine whilst you keen into him. wailing high like whistling winds. “you’re so cute when you’re cumming.” he purrs, boyishly devoted to your pleasure  just as you reach the summit on the mountain, your peak, squirting all the way down aang’s thickness. 

the world around you blurs as though water has mixed with wet paint used to capture darling memories,. a scream rips through you and burns at the fraying edges of your voice. clear streams of arousal shoot from your sluice sex and dampen the pelts, soak aang to the bone – nearly forcing his drowning dick out of you.

his rhythm barely wavers; not even when he is chasing both of your releases, running with the wind as his tip nudges against your pleasure spot over and over. moans rising in octave with every step he takes closer to orgasm.

for a moment, you think, your presence fills aang with as much light and life as he does with you. 

a thumb winds down to your clit with a brand new purpose, noting the aftershocks running through you that bring him his own sense of euphoria. he’s careful with you now, gently jerking you in his lap while his thoughts turn blank, mind crowded with thoughts of only you.  “so small… compared to me. it’s adorable, god, you really are —!” when aang cums, his forehead falls to yours, grey eyes brimming with a glowing blue that extends to the tattoos painted permanently into his body. he glows bright, a beacon of love in the night. then he hiccups, airy and low, succumbing to your shuddering warmth – ecstasy twisting through him like a tornado that’s grown over time. “perfect.”

opaque white shoots into you in viscous ropes, clinging to your wet walls – gathering in a frothy ring at your entrance. none of it is wasted, the avatar insistent on plugging you full. he finds sanctuary in the curve of your neck, breathy curses tattooed into your skin which tickle pleasantly. aang keeps you in his arms before exhaustion settles into your bones and his body threatens to cop out completely—  he just about manages to land on his side before his weight crushes you.

a pregnant silence takes up space in the tenant. tender as your weary eyes meet and heart rates slow to a standstill. aang’s face creases with adoring attachment, triumphant and adoring and childish. you don’t need words to know that he loves you, that he would give up anything to stay right here with you.

i love you.

it comes easy, reciprocating – you find his fingers in your heap of lips and brush a kiss against them so briskly one might mistake your light affection for a breeze.

i love you always.

aang takes up space, in your room next to your things. in your mind where all your best memories lie. and most importantly, in your heart.

end ! likes are appreciated, but just liking doesn’t do much on tumblr! to support and motivate myself and other writers, reply, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!! — asks are open to thirsts and thoughts! join my taglist ! love you!

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED © TTEOKDOROKI 2020-26. all fanfics & layouts belong to me. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai, or recommend elsewhere.

[gyarujo]

❛ 𝗪𝗜𝗡𝗗 𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 降世神通

contents. nsfw! mdni. adult! aang x fem! reader. breeding kink. size kink if you squint. improper use of airbending ⇢ consensual restraint. unprotected piv ac: heyhanibee on twt

there’s something special about the way aang shifts the air around him. you can’t tell where the man ends and the wind begins. you’ve seen him bend the air to his will a hundred times, a thousand even, but it never fails to take your breath away. he doesn’t command the element violently. he coaxes it, becomes it.

and it’s that softness that makes you forget just how strong he really is

it wasn’t as noticeable when you were younger because he was so small— but he’s not the slender, wiry boy from your childhood anymore. years of training, of mastering the most demanding physical art known to man, have carved him into something else entirely.

he’s grown into his body the way he’s grown into everything else: with patience, with discipline, with an unsettling ease. his shoulders are broader, his chest a solid plane of muscle, his arms corded with a strength that can crush a boulder to dust.

he takes up more space now. it isn’t just height, or breadth. it’s everything. he’s a force a nature in the body of a mortal. every inch of him, every muscle and sinew, speaks to the immense power he keeps just beneath his skin.

he possesses the ability to level a nation with a single finger and the tenderness to stroke your hair with the same hand. the strength to shatter mountains, and the softness to hold a great mormon on his fingertip without harming its wings.

his hands, which can weave the most delicate currents of wind are capable of enveloping yours completely, of spanning the curve of your hip with ease. when he holds you, you feel small, like a butterfly cupped in his palms.

although he’s the embodiment of a gentle giant, he’s too big, too strong. that’s the only coherent thought your mind can process as he presses into you. his face is buried in the crook of your neck, his breathing hot and ragged, and the words he’s murmuring are a jumble of desperate pleas.

“mghh,” he groans, voice strained with a need that borders on pain. “wanna have a —hck— baby with you. please, let me.”

“aang—” you sigh, instinctively clenching around him. the thought of you swollen with his child makes him grow harder inside you. he wants to fill you up until it takes.

“mmh need it so bad” he whimpers, “need to — hah —make you completely mine”

the thought of you carrying his child consumes him. his thrusts are desperate and sloppy, driven by this singular goal. each time he drives into you, the force of it jolts your entire body up the futon. your hips shift, just an inch, but it’s enough for him to slip out with a wet, frustrating sound

“nonono stay still” he whines, a sound of pure anguish against your collarbones. as if the fault isn’t entirely his. his hips jerk forward to no avail, “please baby, just—mghh— let me stay inside you”

his voice betrays how close he is to tears

“aang” you murmur, reaching up to cup his face. your thumb brushes away the moisture gathering at the corner of his eye, “i’m not going anywhere”

you shift your legs, wrapping them around his waist to tether him to you. his grey eyes are dark and hazy, clouded by the vision of you round with his child, leaving only a ring of silver around his dilated pupils. he fumbles between your bodies, hands shaking ever so slightly as he lines himself up again. he pushes back in with as much self-control as he can muster, and for a moment, it’s perfect.

then his hips snap forward again, and the same thing happens. you’re jolted away, and he slides free. it’s a deeply frustrating cycle. your hand traces the blue arrow on his forearm tenderly, “i’ve got you” you whisper, “i’m right here”

“please please please” he cries. he wants to hold you down, to pin you in place and take what he wants, but his hands are already occupied. his right holds him firmly above you while his left hand is laced with yours, fingers intertwined and pressed into the pillow above your head, a connection he refuses to break. he won’t let go. he can’t. not now. not ever

his hips falter again, slipping free with a squelch that has him whimpering against your throat. he keens forward, trying to maintain the shallow angle that will keep him buried inside you. but his need is too potent and his control is too frail

“relax aang” your voice a soothing balm against his fervor. he lifts his head and you can see crystal tears trickling through the sweat on his flushed skin. your free hand, the one not trapped in his grip, comes to rest on his shoulder. rubbing circles on his slick skin

“i can’t . .” he trails off, his breath hitching, “can’t i can’t mmh . . i keep losing you” his fingers tighten around yours, his chest rising and falling with ragged gasps.

for a moment, you think his overwhelming need has shattered him completely. his expression is one of pure anguish. then, within seconds, it shifts from frustration to something you can’t quite place your finger on.

“aang are you okay?” you ask softly, trying to offer what little comfort you can. he takes a shuddering breath. silver eyes dropping to where your bodies are joined, or rather, where they should be joined. he swallows thickly, “can i” he starts, then lifts his eyes to yours once more, “need to try something but i don’t want to hurt you”

even now — in the most intimate of moments — his fear of his own power and the destruction he’s capable of looms.

“you’ve never hurt me before,” you whisper, voice unwavering. it’s the honest truth. aang holds you with a tenderness that contradicts the power that hums beneath his skin. he’s always been so careful with you, so gentle.

he shakes his head miserably. he can’t quite meet your eyes, gaze darting away to the pillow beside your head.

“i can’t think straight anymore” he mumbles, voice barely audible. “feels like all my control is gone. s’much noise in my head right now, i just need you so bad”

he shifts his weight restlessly. the blush dusting his cheeks and the tips of his ears is a testament to his utter mortification at having to admit this.

he takes another shaky breath, “i was thinking. . . i c-could use my bending.” he pauses, and the blush deepens, if that’s even possible. he looks utterly humiliated. “to. . . hold you still”

he finally forces himself to look at you, silently begging you to not be disgusted by him, to not be afraid. “i’ll be careful just. . need you to stay still. s-so i can . . .please. i won’t be rough, i p-promise, i. . i—”

aang is the most powerful being in the universe, yet the weakest in your arms. you nod, you trust him with your life, with the universe.

a shaky exhale leaves his lips, and you feel the wind shift. the air in your room grows heavy, pressing against your skin. you feel a caress against your skin that isn’t his hands. a soft, swirling current of air that traces the curve of your waist, the dip of your hips. it's like being held by a pair of strong, invisible hands, one on each side of your pelvis, anchoring you in place.

it’s unyielding but it doesn’t hurt. you test it, trying to shift your hips, and find you can’t move more than an inch

“hold on” he murmurs, eyes screwed shut in concentration. the blue arrow on his forehead seems to glow faintly. you feel the air pressing against your back, your shoulders. a man-made cocoon that prevents any further movement of your lower body

he opens his eyes, watching your face intently, searching for any sign of pain. “is that okay?” he asks, voice tight with restraint. “does it hurt baby?”

“no” you shake your head, “it’s fine aang, can barely feel it”

“good,” he breathes, relief washing over his features, “that’s really, really good” he doesn’t waste another second, lining himself up at your entrance and pushing in slowly. this time when his hips snap forward, the air holds you steady

“ohhh,” he chokes out, his pace immediately becoming more confident, more stable. “yesyesyes, you feel so g-good. you’re so perfect for me.”

the blue arrow tattoo trailing from his temple, seems to be pointing right at you, marking the path of his lewd intention. his forehead presses against yours. huge hand never letting go of yours, silver eyes fixed on you. even as his hips pound into yours with a brutal rhythm. “take it. all of it. gonna fill you up so good.”

his words are pure filth. they make your whole body clench around him. you’re completely at his mercy, “aang please,” you whimper, the only word you can manage. you’re not even sure what you’re begging for. but he seems to understand anyway.

“i know, baby,” he murmurs, “i know what you need.” he unravels your grasp from his, thick fingers sliding down your side and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. he traces the curve of your hip, the dip of your waist, before coming to rest on the soft swell of your stomach.

“right here,” he says, pressing his palm flat against your lower belly. “gonna put our baby righttt here.” his hips snap forward again, harder this time “gonna fill you up so much you’ll be able to feel it for days”

the thought makes your whole body clench around him, “don’t do that,” he gasps. “won’t last much—hck—longer, i want . . . want to savor this”

but you can’t help it — the way he’s talking, the way he’s looking at you like you’re the most fragile thing in the world while simultaneously rutting into you like he wants to break you— it’s too much. your body responds on its own, tightening around him again and again.

“aang” you whimper, tears beading your waterline

“baby” he curses, hips stuttering, each thrust growing sloppier, clumsier by the second. “you want it too, mmh don’t you? want me to breed you until you’re carrying my child?”

“yes,” you manage to gasp out, the word dripping off your tongue mindlessly “yes, aang. wan’ it. want you."

his hips lose all semblance of rhythm. “gonna do it,” he pants against your lips, his silver eyes wild and unfocused. “gonna make you round and full with my airbender.”

his hand presses harder on your stomach, as if he can already feel the life he’s determined to create there. “our little air nomad,” he whimpers, a sob of pleasure. “gonna have your pretty eyes. . . gonna fly before they can walk.”

your inner walls, slick and swollen from his relentless pounding, clamp down around him, milking his cock, pulling him deeper.

“ohh baby” he stutters, burying himself to the hilt as the first real wave of your orgasm hits. his cock is trapped in the vice-like grip of your release. every time your walls convulse, they drag against his length, the sensitive ridge of his tip catching on your clenched muscles. it makes his whole body shake.

you can feel him twitching inside you, a telltale sign of his own impending release, and the thought only intensifies your own.

“that’s it, baby, that’s it,” he’s chanting, words barely coherent. “take it. take all of me. mghh, you’re so tight. so perfect. my —hck— forever girl”

he’s trying to move, to keep thrusting into you, but your body won’t let him. you’re squeezing him too tight. he’s trapped, and the realization seems to push him over the edge. his whole body goes rigid, a strangled cry tearing from his throat as he spills inside you.

a hot, sticky pulse that seems to go on forever. tangible proof of his desire, making good on his promise to fill you up, to breed you. it feels like he’s pouring his very soul into you.

he collapses on top of you, his full weight pressing you into the futon, but you don’t mind. his face is buried in your hair, his breathing uneven against the shell of your ear. for a long time, the only sound is the frantic beating of his heart against your ribs and the wind still whispering at the edges of the room

then he presses a soft, kiss to your shoulder, lips gentle against your glistening skin. “are you okay?” he whispers frantically, “did i hurt you?”

you turn your head to look at him, his silver eyes full of a love so profound it makes your heart swell. “no,” you whisper back, and you mean it with every fiber of your being. “it was perfect.”

he pushes himself up on his elbows, he looks down at where you’re still joined, pulling out carefully. you whimper at the loss, at the feeling of his cum beginning to trickle out of you.

“i’ve been thinking about it for such a long time.” he shifts, settling beside you and pulling you into his arms. you rest your head on his broad chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.

“hmm?” the tremors of your voice vibrating against his bare skin

“air nomads,” he says, “we’re gonna bring them back. you and me.” he kisses the top of your head, arms tightening around you. “gonna have a whole tribe of them”

“a whole tribe?” you ask. “don’t you think we should start with one?”

“one,” he agrees, his hand sliding down to rest on your stomach again. “and then two. then three. and . . .” he trails off, “we’ll see where it goes from there.”

© GYARUJO 2026. please do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works on here or any other websites. do not feed to ai

[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.

[bat1nsignia]

drabble #2! 18+, mdni, adult!aang

—————————————————————————

if you told your past self that you would get with the avatar, you’d laugh and call yourself crazy 

because what do you mean the same bald tattooed kid who went around the world to ride on animals with that stupid grin on his face was now the same bald tattooed man who was pressing you into a mean breeding position and making you feel so so good

you lost track of the number of times you came, and aang lost track of the times he came in you— but let’s be for real, who’s counting?

“one more” he panted, lustful silver eyes as he pounded his cock deep in you with loud and lewd sounds bouncing all over the room. the position you were giving aang with your legs thrown on his shoulders was allowing him to hit areas you didn’t even know were possible, which was why he wanted you to come for him again— and why he wanted to come in you for the nth time

“please baby i— fuck” he whimpered, feeling your walls clench all over him with familiarity. it left aang no choice but to silence his own sounds by pressing his lips sloppily on yours, swallowing your sweet sounds as he continued to blabber 

“wanna feel her—” thrust. “—all over me—” thrust. “baby, please—” thrust. “pleasepleaseplease—”

and judging by the way his sounds got more whiner and his tattoos glowing, you could tell he wasn’t gonna last again before you’d give him your answer

oh how time flies by so fast

—————————————————————————

masterlist!

(a/n: ana you KNEEEEWWW what you did when you sent me that whimpering aang reel)

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