#poly kataang

[bootyscalling]

Don’t think about getting sandwiched between Aang and Katara—where your back is pressing against Aang’s chest and Katara’s pushing her chest against yours. And everything is warm and soft, and you’re getting tingles in your hoo-ha because Katara’s hand is tightening around your throat to aggressively stick her tongue in your mouth, and Aang is reaching under to fondle your breasts against Katara’s. And his fat dick sits on the top of your ass bc he’s dry-humping you for stimulation.

[mastermindnothere]

…

Republic City at night felt softer from your apartment window. The noise blurred into something distant and low, like the ocean heard through walls, and the lights below stretched into gold streaks across the water. You had left the window cracked just enough to let the air in, cool against your skin, carrying the faint scent of rain and metal.

You weren’t waiting.

Not exactly.

You told yourself that as you adjusted the kettle for the third time, as you straightened the already straight edge of your table, as your attention kept drifting toward the door without your permission. He said he would be back tonight, and Aang was not someone who broke his word. Still, there was always a difference between knowing something and feeling it.

The hallway outside shifted—footsteps, familiar in a way your body recognized before your mind did. Then a softer sound, a quiet laugh you hadn’t heard in days but knew instantly. You didn’t make it to the door before it opened.

Aang stepped in first, light on his feet even after travel, like the city itself couldn’t weigh him down. Katara followed just behind him, her hand brushing his arm as she stepped inside, steadying and grounding in the same motion. It was instinctive between them—unspoken, easy, something that didn’t need attention to exist.

“There you are,” Aang said, and there was nothing dramatic in it, no urgency—just warmth, like returning here had always been part of the plan.

You leaned back against the table, arms crossing loosely. “You found your way.”

“I always do,” he replied, smiling, and Katara’s eyes softened at the edge of that smile like she’d seen it a hundred times and still felt it every time.

She closed the door behind them, glancing around your apartment like she always did—quick, assessing, making sure everything was as it should be. When her gaze landed on you, it softened. “You’ve been up.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you said simply.

Aang tilted his head slightly, studying you in that quiet way he had, like he was listening to something deeper than your words. “City too loud?”

“Something like that.”

Katara moved further in, slipping off her outer wrap and setting it aside like she’d done it here a dozen times before. “It’s quieter near the harbor tonight,” she said, half to Aang, half to you. “You picked a good place.”

“I didn’t pick it for the quiet,” you replied.

Aang laughed softly at that, stepping closer, his presence filling the room in a way that didn’t overwhelm—just shifted the air, made everything feel a little more alive. “You picked it for the view.”

You didn’t deny it.

Katara moved beside him without thinking, her shoulder brushing his as she looked out the window. He leaned slightly toward her, not enough to be obvious, but enough that it was there if you were looking. And you were. You always noticed the small things between them—the way their movements aligned, the way their attention bent toward each other without effort.

He reached for her hand without looking, and she let him take it just as easily, her thumb brushing lightly over his knuckles. It wasn’t showy. It wasn’t something meant to be seen. It was just… them.

And you stood there, watching it, feeling something tight and quiet settle in your chest—not sharp enough to hurt, not soft enough to ignore.

Aang glanced back at you, still holding Katara’s hand. “We brought food,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world to return from a trip and end up here, in your space, like this. “Well—Katara did. I helped carry it.”

“I did most of the work,” Katara corrected, though there was no bite to it. She nudged him lightly with her shoulder, and he leaned into it with a grin.

“I offered moral support.”

“You complained about the weight.”

“It was heavy!”

You exhaled a quiet laugh despite yourself, the tension in your chest loosening just slightly. “You can put it down before you start another argument in my doorway.”

They moved in fully then, settling like they belonged—Aang setting things down on your table, Katara already moving to organize without asking. You didn’t stop her. You never did. She had a way of fitting into spaces like she was meant to improve them, not change them.

“You didn’t have to bring anything,” you said, though your voice lacked any real resistance.

Katara glanced at you briefly. “We wanted to.”

Aang nodded. “It’s better when we’re all here.”

The words lingered longer than they should have.

You busied yourself with the cups, pouring tea you hadn’t meant to make for anyone but yourself. When you turned back, they were closer than before—Katara leaning slightly into Aang as she said something too quiet for you to catch, his attention fully on her, his expression softer than it had been a moment ago.

He brushed a loose strand of her hair back without thinking, his fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary. Katara’s breath hitched almost imperceptibly, but she didn’t pull away. If anything, she leaned into it.

You looked down before they could notice you watching.

“Here,” you said, setting the cups down a little harder than intended. “Drink something before you both fall asleep standing.”

Aang took his immediately, smiling in thanks. Katara followed, her fingers brushing yours briefly as she did. The contact was light, but it grounded you more than you expected.

“You always take care of us,” Aang said, lifting the cup slightly.

“I don’t,” you replied. “You just don’t pay attention.”

Katara’s gaze flicked toward you again, thoughtful this time. “No. He’s right.”

You stilled slightly.

She stepped a little closer, not enough to crowd you, just enough to close the space. “You do more than you think.”

You held her gaze for a second longer than usual, then looked away. “Someone has to keep things from falling apart.”

Aang shook his head softly. “They wouldn’t fall apart.”

“They would,” you said, quieter now. “Just not in ways you’d notice right away.”

That made him pause.

Katara didn’t argue.

Instead, she reached out—slow, deliberate—and adjusted the sleeve of your shirt where it had twisted at your wrist. The gesture was small, almost absent-minded, but her fingers lingered for a moment after, resting lightly against your skin.

“You don’t have to carry everything quietly,” she said.

Your throat tightened slightly. “I’m not carrying anything.”

Aang stepped closer then, drawn in by something he didn’t fully understand but didn’t want to ignore. He looked between you and Katara, his expression softer now, more aware.

“You don’t have to pretend with us,” he added.

You let out a slow breath, shaking your head faintly. “I’m not pretending.”

But your voice didn’t sound convincing, even to you.

Katara’s hand slipped away from your wrist, but not far—just enough to give you space without fully leaving. Aang’s presence stayed steady, warm, close enough that you could feel it without being touched.

The room settled into something quieter then, not awkward, just full.

Aang glanced at Katara, something passing between them in a look that didn’t need words. She nodded slightly, and he smiled—small, certain.

Then he looked back at you.

“We’re here now,” he said simply.

Katara stepped just a little closer again, her shoulder nearly brushing yours. “You don’t have to figure everything out tonight.”

You let out a quiet breath, tension easing in a way you hadn’t expected. “I wasn’t trying to.”

Aang smiled faintly. “Good. Because we’re not leaving.”

Katara huffed a soft laugh at that. “Not tonight, at least.”

You glanced between them—at the ease, the quiet affection, the way they existed together without forcing it—and something inside you shifted. Not breaking. Not resolving. Just… moving.

“Then you might as well get comfortable,” you said.

Aang brightened immediately. “See? I knew you wanted us here.”

“I didn’t say that.”

Katara smiled, softer than his, but just as certain. “You didn’t have to.”

They settled in after that, naturally, like they’d done it before—Aang leaning back against the couch, Katara beside him, her head eventually resting lightly against his shoulder. His hand found hers again without looking, their fingers fitting together like they always did.

You stayed where you were for a moment, watching them—not from a distance, not entirely outside it, but not fully inside either.

Somewhere in between.

And for now—

That space didn’t feel as empty as it used to.

[bootyscalling]

Hiii I love ur work smm!! If you don't mind, can you write Poly katara x aang x reader relationship headcannons? What if the reader was like an ex assassin sent out to kill the avatar at one point for money? (If not regular headcannons is fine too <3) again, no pressure! :D

omg ok reqs are hard i'm kinda nervous

it's 3am and the only thing I know is that you would be a bottom for katara and a top for aang. and yes, this would be altogether, at the same time.

i'm thinking you as an ex assassin just fell into the wrong crowd and the dynamic kataang duo of goodness kinda reeled you out of it. you're extremely loving and doting, but you don't share a lot of your more jaded thoughts about things—although, Aang knows you try your best to see the better of it, he still chimes in every so often just to make you smile.

You have a tendency of getting hurt during fights, using your body to defend them when your skills can't. Katara gives you an earful every time she heals you, but you don't mind. You enjoy listening to someone who really cares.

that's just me spitballing, i'll take suggestions