A/N: I know the kinks in this aren't exactly popular (body worship, breastfeeding/lactation, breeding), but I think they suit kataang very well. I wanted to write something that made it feel believable for them even for people who might have a stigma against some of it.
Thanks to my friends at kataang_dungeon on ao3 for validating the heck out of me while I wrote this over the past couple of weeks, and especially to chalk_full for helping me get the details and logistics to a believable place.
Speaking of ao3 (archiveofourown), I have some pieces on there which are not posted to here, because I co-wrote them with others and this platform doesn't let you attribute co-creators. So if you find me at archiveofourown under this same name, you'll see more content than what I have here. And by extension, you'll find the other awesome writers I worked with so far, including mooninglight, SifuGrapefruit, tofuandtattoos, among a few others :) There is a link in my profile here!
Aang rubbed his temples as he exited the council office. For weeks he had been trying to talk them down from erecting a statue of him in the bay, on a small land mass nestled between Air Temple Island and Republic City. It was an embarrassing proposition, primarily because he already had an entire island to be remembered by just across the way. He'd much prefer a modest figure of himself at the temple, similar to what he'd known Gyatso to have.
He tried, for the past several days, to convince them that the person who ought to be immortalized in copper was Katara. She was the person who made it possible for Aang to end the war, more than any of the rest of his friends. She broke him out of the iceberg, revived him from the dead, and carried his heart in even the darkest times. And on the subject of her accomplishments, she single-handedly shook up the Northern Water Tribe patriarchy, she was a master waterbender, and now she was growing a healing practice in Republic City even while also being a mother. She was brilliant.
And yet she didn't have a statue, which was unfathomable to Aang.
He snapped his glider open and took off with a huff. He was eager to see her and calm his agitated nerves from the stupidity of it all. Today's meeting had gone over time by a few hours from their arguing. While it seemed strange to Aang to put such a large dedication upon an entirely unwilling subject, the council insisted that it was something they and the city sincerely wished to do as a gesture of gratitude to him. They were impossible to reason with, and they were increasingly interpreting his refusals as arrogance. He'd been forced to concede, at least for the day.
But he hated it. Katara deserved it, not him. They wanted to put it in the bay, in the middle of the water. Katara was water itself. She was the push and pull of time, the flow of vigor in his veins, the nurturing embrace of life.
The drizzle of summer rain that dampened his clothes as he flew only validated his inner monologue. She deserved to be worshipped.
Katara carefully closed the bedroom door leaving it slightly ajar, still wary of how easily Bumi had gone to sleep. He'd been sleeping well for a couple of weeks, despite Katara nearly weaning him from breastmilk. He'd been holding fast to his bedtime feedings, clinging to that last bonding ritual, but tonight he seemed to have finally forgotten his habit. Maybe it was a perfect storm of him skipping his afternoon nap, a late dinner with some tasty new solid foods, and the rainy weather making the entire day sleepier. Or maybe, she thought with a wince, he was simply ready to move on from it.
Whatever it was, Katara now found herself with an unpleasant pressure in her breasts. Until now, she'd managed to wean Bumi by stretching out time between feedings, but never by an entire night of sleep. The thought of enduring the discomfort all night was not at all attractive.
She made her way up toward the top level of the air temple living quarters, one level above their bedroom. It was an attic, really, but rather than storing seasonal items or collecting dust, Aang had put it to a rather creative use. Attics are quite boring and a little spooky, so it was the perfect place to hide things from the acolytes and from their children, once they were toddling around on their own. In other words, it was the perfect place to hide sex paraphernalia.
This is what led Katara there to seek out something to relieve her discomfort. She vaguely remembered a box of unfavored or broken sex toys, but she wasn't sure what was in it. She was resigned to the reality that she'd have to manually express her milk, but she hoped there was some kind of suction toy stored away that would make it easier.
She reached the top of the stairs and opened the door, grateful for the window that let in enough moonlight that she wasn't startled by the vines hanging from the rafters. They'd been a gift from the foggy swamp tribe. When Huu had heard gossip that they were trying to get pregnant a couple years ago, he'd given them some cuttings of a vine that was supposed to increase fertility when consumed as tea. He warned them that it might grow faster than they could drink it. And then, partly as a joke, he claimed that that was why it worked so well.
Now, two years later, the vines had completely overtaken the rafters to such an extent that it felt like a jungle. And it did seem to work for them—they'd conceived in short order after using it, so they recently started using it again for number two—but it did sort of get in the way sometimes. She pushed aside the hanging vines and made a mental note to cut some of it back over the weekend.
She arrived at the shelf she was looking for and fumbled in the dark to find the box she was remembering. Just then, the sconces on the walls ignited and she heard Aang's voice call to her, alight with hopeful anticipation.
"Katara?"
She turned around and gave him a tired smirk. "Hey, Aang. Sorry to give you the wrong idea, but I'm not here for any monkey business."
He sauntered over to her and held his hand out to take the box from her. She handed it over and he raised an eyebrow at the sight of its contents. "Are you sure about that, Sweetie?"
"Yes," she laughed. Then she turned her eyes down and crossed her arms, becoming somber. "Bumi finally went to sleep without nursing. It's a bit uncomfortable." By the tone of her voice, she wasn't just talking about her physical experience.
Aang put the box back on the shelf and moved to envelop her in a reassuring embrace. He kissed her head and rubbed his hands down her back. "I know how much you'll miss that. I'm sorry."
She swallowed back a surge of tired emotion. "It's bittersweet. I will miss the cuddles, but I'm not sad about getting my body back." She shrugged one shoulder. "Anyway, I thought I remembered some sort of pump toy up here. My boobs are feeling the consequences so I'm trying to deal with that." She sighed, her resignation audible.
Her admission struck him. Her body. She was the most beautiful being he would ever know, both in her own right and for being the mother of his child. In his eyes, motherhood only emphasized how gorgeous and strong she was. He hadn't realized that it was weighing on her autonomy in that way, even if only a little.
"Mmm," he hummed in her hair. He swayed where they stood, rocking her. The more he thought about it, the more foolish he felt for not already knowing what she'd told him. The past year she'd had to make affordances for the baby that were small and easy enough, but likely added up. Dressing for convenience instead of how she liked, scheduling everything around naps and feedings, foregoing some of her favorite foods because they would interfere with her milk supply.
She'd even asked him to stop touching her breasts during sex when Bumi was just a few months old, after his attention to them caused her to lactate in bed. She panicked at the time, fearing irrationally that she might somehow spill enough to leave Bumi hungry. Aang agreed to her request, keeping his disappointment to himself; it was an incredible turn-on for him before he saw how much it upset her.
And now it broke his heart to see her so crestfallen over things she'd been shouldering in silence. She deserved to have the same love and care returned to her that she emitted to the world, to his world. If she was happy to have her body back, then he'd help her celebrate that to the fullest extent he could.
He glanced up at the vines surrounding them and bent the water in them to cradle her in a seat. One of them caught the back of her silk robe and it separated at the front to expose her legs as she sat. She looked at him in surprise.
He cupped her cheek and feathered his lips against hers, almost too timid to suggest what was on his mind. When she sighed and relaxed into his kiss, he became emboldened. He pulled away and his eyes darted down to her chest, then back to her lips. "I can help, if you'd like."
Katara tensed. The thought had crossed her mind, since it would be the easiest and most convenient solution. But her breasts had been reserved for the baby for so long that she wasn't sure he would be interested in doing that. She turned her head away and then looked back at him sideways, bashful. "You'd be okay with that?"
Aang's hand moved from her cheek down her neck, his fingers playing with the hem of her robe, pushing it slightly. "I'd be delighted." His voice was low as it rasped out of him. "I love your body."
All at once, Katara felt embers smolder in her core and a frantic urgency emptied her mind of all else. "Oh," she breathed. It was a foreign headspace for her, two mentalities of herself at odds with each other. She desperately missed the shooting hot pleasure that she got from his mouth on her, but she'd drawn such a hard line between her breastmilk and their sex life that she thought he'd be turned off by it. "Are you sure? Are you sure it's not..."
Aang brought his other hand up to her waist, caressing up her ribs until he rounded the slope of her breast. He passed his thumb over her firm peak, reveling in the sigh that shuddered out of her. He nuzzled her cheek and whispered in her ear. "Are my hands strange to you now, since I've used them to bathe Bumi?"
Katara swallowed and felt her breath escaping her. "No," she gasped.
Aang smirked and nipped lightly at her ear, kissing his way down her neck. He bumped up against her knees as he went, so he used the vines to spread them out of his way and recline her slightly, satisfied when she whimpered pitifully from it. He trailed kisses down her chest until the cross of her robe got in his way.
"Are my lips strange to you after I've used them to kiss our son?"
Katara couldn't stop her hips from rolling against him. He was teasing her past what it took to persuade her, but she didn't care. She let go of the vines to draw his head closer to her. "No—no Aang. I love them more, now. I love you more now," she babbled.
He buried his face in the crook of her neck and held her close to him again. He petted her hair and sighed in satisfaction, smiling against her skin. "Then you know how I feel too," he whispered. "Will you let me help? I want to. I want to appreciate every part of you."
Katara panted and squirmed against him. She hesitated to answer, her eyes darting to the door, before she realized Aang had already thought of Bumi. The door was still open to listen for him, and her suspension off the floor meant Aang could better sense their son if he stirred.
His consideration squashed any last misgivings she had. "Yes, Aang," she whined. "Please." She tugged the back of his robes as if to move him back down to her chest.
He pulled back and looked at her through his half-lidded eyes, flushed visibly pink even in the dim lighting. He untied her robe and gravity pulled it fully open and away from her body, naked underneath it. He loved the extra softness that motherhood gave her. The way her breasts hung heavy, the way her skin was more pillowy where it didn't quite tighten back after stretching, even over the firm muscles she still had. His eyes raked over her and he groaned at the sight, feeling tight in his pants.
He stepped back and moved his arms to manipulate the vines. They tilted her forward and up to position her breasts in front of his face. She grabbed hold of the vines again for balance as the ones around her bottom slid down her thighs to wrap beneath her knees instead, her legs spread open wide and bent up at her hips.
Aang admired his work. Her silhouette had the most alluring dips and curves, her childbearing hips accentuated by the spread of her legs. Already he could see between them that her folds were wet, glistening. Her robe, still hanging from her shoulders, hung behind her as if presenting her to him on a platter. Yet even elevated above him, her face pleaded for his touch as if she were begging on her knees.
He closed the gap between them and stroked her ass lightly, kissing the valley between her breasts. She squirmed and huffed in frustration, and so without any further preamble, he flattened his tongue over his bottom teeth and took one nipple gently in his mouth.
Her reaction was immediate. She sucked in a gasp at the contact, melting into a long whimper when he began to suckle, her nipple brushing along the back of his palate with each lap. Her hips tried to buck forward, but he squeezed her cheeks to keep her in place, denying her any friction on her aching center. He wanted her to enjoy this, slowly.
She mewled feebly, the long-lost sensation of Aang's mouth flooding her mind and body anew. It crossed her mind that even restrained as she was, he'd persuaded her to choose this for herself, to enjoy her body as she pleased without obligation to anyone else. She was in control where he tied her. She felt a dizzying grapple of power and surrender, and his devotion to her made her mind swim in tandem with the rhythmic pull of his gentle suckling—almost too gentle, like he was afraid of hurting her.
"You can go a little harder," she murmured. He obeyed her instantly, his mouth tugging more firmly, drawing moans of both frustration and delight from the deepest parts of her. Soon she felt the familiar warmth of her milk letting down, bringing with it some relief to the pressure that had built up.
Aang shifted and inhaled sharply through his nose in surprise when he tasted it. It had a sweet flavor that reminded him of honey and melon. He suckled a few more times before swallowing a mouthful and hummed against her breast in awe, low and gravelly. He gave her bottom an affectionate squeeze and brought one hand up to massage her other breast, spurred on by her continuous whines of pleasure and the eager caress that he felt on the back of his neck.
"Aang… this feels so wonderful," she whispered. Her fingers pressed delicately against his scalp, reflexively following the rhythm that he played against her.
Her milk dripped down on him as he kneaded her in his hand. He stared openly at it for the first time; every other incident like this in the past, whether triggered by arousal or a baby crying, was always quickly ended by nursing Bumi. But this time, the only priority for both of them was Katara's pleasure. He thought he might never come across anything more erotic in the world of humans nor spirits. His wife before him was the Earth herself, one with water, warm and fertile and giving of life, beautiful, beautiful.
He continued to drink, answering her whimpers with moans of his own, stroking her soft curves, so honored to be where he was. Eventually he tasted a change in the milk; it became thicker, creamier, like he'd gotten to a different phase of it. It took him by surprise and excited him to no end. It was delicious. But he thought it better to leave some, now that he'd removed some pressure, just in case their son woke up with a change of heart.
He pulled his lips away and flicked his tongue over her nipple, teasing it. He felt her nails dig into his skin as he basked in her angelic mewling. Slowly, languidly, he placed open-mouth kisses across her chest as he moved to her other side, head spinning in wonder over her.
"You're amazing, Katara." He planted another kiss at the rise of her breast as it dripped in his hand. "You're an incredible mother. A beautiful mama. Spirits, you're brilliant."
Katara grasped at the back of his neck, her other hand white-knuckled and tangled in the vines, trying to stay grounded as his tender touches and praise upturned everything in her. She moaned helplessly when he latched onto her weeping bud, lolled her head forward when his mouth pulled insistently.
Aang's hand on her breast moved down and back to her rear, his other hand rising to play with the nipple that he'd abandoned. He brushed his thumb over the tip of it, sliding easily from the rich fluid still slowly trickling out.
Katara's hips jolted forward again, and Aang once more held her in place. Despite her swollen sex hanging open and ready yet untouched, she felt a tension pull taut, strung from his attention on her sensitive peaks down to his pull so close to her entrance. It wound tighter with each brush of his fingers, each undulation of his tongue.
"Aang," she whispered, the only warning she managed. And then the tightness snapped her open, taking her by surprise. She cried out and thrashed in her restraints, her dangling feet curling in toward him as her fingers clawed at his skin, reaching for him as much as she could. He groaned against her and pressed his fingers into her soft curves, his grip fierce and reverent.
Surges of liquid fire curled in her belly, feeding the pyre of her lust more than slaking it, floating up and out of her throat in notes of hazy abandon. Eventually her climax tapered, barely. She remained in a heightened state of pleasure, stretched out by Aang's uninterrupted worship of her. She gasped for breath, unable to calm down, stuck between riding her afterglow and the ever growing need for more.
It brewed a madness in her, her hands becoming restless. She moved the vines to support her shoulders like a harness, allowing her to use both hands freely. She cradled Aang's head in the crook of her elbow and cupped his cheek. He rested the weight of his head on her arm and she whimpered, the soft intimacy of it deepening the sea of emotions between her heart and groin. She sank her nails into the skin of his shoulder, her hand on his face moving to his neck.
Aang hummed into her between his gulps, his breath shaking. His pants had grown uncomfortably tight, arousal and pride flooding his shaft with unbearable need. He looked up at her when he felt her thumb settle on his pulse and press down, not enough to dizzy him, but enough to feel the violent rhythm beating beneath his flesh. Their eyes locked and his heartbeat must have doubled in time at the look of euphoria on her face.
Aang tasted the change in her milk again, and he refrained from swallowing the last small amount in his mouth. He closed his eyes and took a moment to savor the richness of it, marveling that her body could make such a thing. He suckled at a slower pace and swished the sweet fluid across his tongue as he did. He only pulled away when he felt Katara press harder on his neck and wiggle her hips in agitation at his idle play.
He swallowed and pressed his face against her breast. "I love you," he sighed. His lips brushed her nipple as he spoke, milk dripping from it down his chin. "I didn't know you could come that way."
She swallowed, trying to wet her throat that had dried from her ragged breathing. "Neither did I," she choked.
"You're so incredible." He paused, and added, "thank you."
Katara almost couldn't process his gratitude. To be thanked after that was overwhelming and bewildering; it seemed backwards, like embracing the restraints she could easily remove, or being worshipped and teased at the same time. He'd bent her perception like it was a trivial thing, effortless and mundane. It left a gaping cavern in her core, one shaped like him, yawning wide and desperate to be filled.
She took his face in both of her hands and tilted his head to look up at her. "I love you, Aang. I need you. Please," she urged.
He smiled and stood on his toes to kiss her. He lingered only for a moment before ignoring her whine as he stepped back and looked down at her sex, finding what he'd been hoping to see. Her creamy fluids of anticipation pooled at her entrance, undisturbed by any contact, giving him a look of just exactly how wet she was. His scrutiny must have excited her further, because her heat pulsed and clenched at nothing as he watched. It caused a drip of her juices to slowly fall from her, stretching a long line of slick before separating and landing on the floor.
He sucked in a gasp through his teeth and felt me might spill his mind on the floor beside it. "Katara, you're dripping," he marveled, nearly hissing. "From everywhere—oh, you're so stunning." He stepped closer and brought his hands to her ass, dragged them up along her hips. "I cannot believe that you're real."
Katara writhed where she hung. "Aang, please," she begged. His awe and flattery only worked her up more without offering any kind of relief. She reached down to touch herself, and he swept his arms up, cuffing her with the vines and elevating her higher as she yelped in protest. His breath tickled her sensitive folds, and she squeezed her fists and curled her toes in anticipation.
"Soon," he promised. He kissed the very edge of her slit with feather-light pressure, a stark contrast to the passion that vibrated out of him. "Soon, Sweetie. I want to do this first. Can I?" His voice was sincere yet teasing, and she felt annoyed that he was making her wait despite the bulge in his pants.
"Oh, just touch me," she flared. She yanked her hands from their cuffs and pushed his face into her. She felt more than heard his low laugh through his tongue against her clit, sending a shiver up her spine and a sigh from her throat. His firm, broad licks were luxurious and agonizing. She pressed into his rhythm, tilting her hips, spurring his movements by her grip on his skull.
She hummed in delight, satisfied with the increase in pressure. She realized then that part of her actually appreciated his teasing. He was always a generous and devious lover, but this time in particular, he was laying it on thick after what she'd told him, pushing her to push for herself. She'd been in a mindset of yielding herself to others. He goaded her out of it.
She sighed and melted into him with gratitude. "Just like that, Sweetie, yeah," she breathed as she continued to rock herself against his mouth. She was already keyed up, sent most of the way there again from his drawn out suckling before. "Take off your pants," she purred.
Her assertiveness delighted him like a flower that finally blossomed to greet the sun. He moaned into her and complied, held in place between her hands and heat. He untied his belt and shimmied out of his pants. He pulled his robes down too, the single shoulder leaving an opening plenty large enough to fall off of him. He kicked his clothes away and grabbed back onto her, one hand on her rear both to steady her and to paw at it greedily.
His instant obedience sent a hum of electricity under her skin, almost as thrilling as the sight of him below her while she used him like a toy. Her breath grew ragged, the air interrupted by the crossflow of adrenaline surging in her blood. "Suck on me," she commanded, "and—oooh!"
The pull of his lips on her nub of nerves knocked the words from her mouth, and only a moan came out. He turned his head for a better angle and shifted his weight between his feet. His adjustment made his cock visible to her, his fingers lazily playing with the flushed pink tip, keeping himself at full mast with the same pace that he kept on her.
Something clawed at her sanity as she watched his foreskin, barely held back by his last two fingers, softly lap over the swell of his head and brush the pad of his thumb as he teased himself. There was so much of him not being pleasured, left wanting, and she felt the other side of that untouched potential in herself, and she couldn't stand it anymore. It felt like a mindless pull within her where his tip reached its farthest, where he entrusted his essence with her each time they made love. The slowing trickle of her breasts sent a drop of milk down on him, and her senses fell with it.
"Aang," she breathed. He answered a moan onto her. "I want you in me when I come this time." She watched his shoulders tense in excitement, felt his mouth work harder on her. "Oh—you want that too, yeah?"
She saw his brow twist with pleasure as a guttural sound thundered from his throat and vibrated through her. Within the pull of his lips, she felt his tongue swirl over her between each beat, her thighs quivering at the nearly overpowering sensation. Warmth bloomed in her belly and began its slow spread out, like the dull glow of embers shriveling tinder just before catching it aflame.
She lightly pulled his head away and moved one hand to replace his mouth. His eyes bored into hers, stormy gray and charged with all the power of a hurricane, and he moved his hand along her body to bring her down. He held her like a treasure landing in his arms, and without any fumbling she was aligned with him, his tip nestling into her slick before splitting her entirely apart at the seams.
Her eyes slammed shut and she wailed at the sudden completion, almost too much, but not yet enough. Her body recognized the intrusion after a second and the warmth within her doubled back as a searing flood. She felt gravity and vines move around her and opened her eyes to see she'd been tilted back, leaning at an angle to take advantage of her makeshift swing. Her supports were now around her back and bottom, her legs free.
Aang grasped her waist and thrust into her experimentally, biting his lip when she bounced and landed back down on him with a wet tap. He widened his stance and pulled back again, and then—
"Aang," Katara chided. "I want you in me."
He felt her legs wrap around his hips and pull him back into her as she rubbed herself furiously. She trembled when he was fully sheathed again, his sack pressing against her ass, and he felt her walls grip him without mercy. He panted in frustration and tried wiggling his hips side to side as he held her down on him by her waist.
"Spirits," she keened, "oh, just like that." He stretched her in all the right ways, his solid presence so thick and deep inside her that he may have reached her soul. She let her head hang back and squeezed impossibly tighter on his cock, his slight motions feeling that much firmer, that much deeper.
It caught what she was chasing. Her lungs emptied in a silent heave and she curled forward as if to pin down her climax from escaping. Her pressure made it burst apart in her grip, flooding her and saturating her shuddering form as she swelled and throbbed around him. She felt him lean down to embrace her, kissing her neck and groaning against her skin, voice heavy with the weight of his need to move.
The touch of her fingers became too much to bear, and she moved her hands to scrape at his back. "Oh—now—" she choked, the peak of her pleasure stilling before the taper. "Fuck me, Aang."
Her command dripped in his ears, down the back of his neck, through his skeleton. It moved him before he was aware of it, and he was suddenly plowing into her with everything he had, bouncing her hard off his pelvis for her to lurch right back down again. Every impact shot up through her and out of her mouth like a chanted song of divinity.
She gasped, finally catching only a fraction of her breath after starting to come down from her peak. "You feel so good, Aang, so good. You treat me so well," she gushed. Her hands slid over him in loving caresses, enjoying the feel of his muscles as they labored to bring both of them bliss. "You're so good to me."
Aang always loved Katara in this state, so gratified by the stretch of him that she could do nothing else but voice her admiration. The embrace of her love and spirit rarely touched him as perfectly as it did in these delirious, feral moments of wholeness with her. He cherished it, the unbelievable knowledge of his world being so singularly focused on him.
"You deserve everything." He leaned down to kiss her jaw and moved one hand to fondle her breast. "You are everything."
He said it so plainly that she didn't think he was exaggerating. Her breath escaped her in a moment of seeing the picture of herself that his mind held. It looked similar in some ways to how she saw him.
She felt him slow down and angle his hips the way he knew would press her in all the right places. It did, but she realized that he was still focused on getting her off. She put her feet on his hips to move him back and cupped his cheek when his eyes asked her what she wanted.
She invited him to please her a different way. "Come for me."
His eyes darted to her lips before his own crashed down on them. His body rolled into her with the same ominous restraint he held at a meal after days of meditative fasting. Ravenous, yet holding back to appreciate every carnal detail of his indulgence. He dragged his lips along her jaw up to her ear, his breath shaking from his tenuous self-control. "Tell me more," he whispered.
"My airbender," she purred, "give me part of you." She hooked her ankles together around his back again. "I'll make it more."
Aang groaned low and long by her ear. He nuzzled her throat and moved his hand from her breast to cradle the back of her neck. The speed of his thrusts started to pick up. "More," he repeated, both her word and his.
"Let me feel it," she urged between moans. She heard his breath hiss out of him and felt his nails bite into her. "Ahh—I love how you twitch inside me when you come."
Aang moved his hand from her neck to her shoulder with a huff. He stood upright and plunged into her at full force, a snarl of unbridled passion on his face as he let loose. He took in all of her. Her face twisted with pleasure, her bouncing breasts, the streaks of wet drawn from them down her body and the stretch marks that they crossed. Her beauty and her words beckoning the surge in his groin to flood higher and higher.
"Ooh, yes." Katara kissed his wrist where he held her down. "Aang, fill me." She reached to feel his abs tightening in his fervor. "Make me drip more. Let me feel it. Spirits, you feel so good," she raved, breathless and dizzy. "That's it Sweetie, please, come in me."
The flood overcame him, the heat permeating his body as his release burst forth. He leaned against her and clung to her as it pulsed out of him, into her, into the warmth of her loving pull. Her ceaseless hold on his spirit.
Katara whimpered beneath him as she pressed her heels into his ass, holding him in close through his final thrusts. "Yes. Oh, Aang. Oh, you feel so good," she breathed.
He leaned against her and clung to her as he rode out his hot surges of relief, her cries softening into contented hums, her inner walls hugging him, everything about her rewarding him for planting his seed. His exhaustion settled and he leaned into her welcoming aura, waving an arm to recline them further in the vines like a hammock. She kept her legs around him and he happily obliged her wish to hold him inside of her, to hug him until every last drop of him belonged to her.
Katara's breath leveled first. She ran her nails softly up and down his back and kissed his temple where his face was hidden in the crook of her neck. "Aang, that was… I love you. You're such a good man. That was so special."
Aang hummed in response, motionless. "Well, you're special." He smiled when he felt her shake in a silent laugh at his response. "I love you too," he said more sincerely. "And our family. You know how incredible I think you are… it feels nice to show you." He turned his head to kiss her just below the ear, and once more on her jaw. "I think we both needed it."
She heard the change in his tone and rubbed his back. "You did get home pretty late. Do you want to talk about it?"
With an exaggerated heave, Aang propped himself up on his elbows over her and gave her a peck on the lips. Then he turned his face away as he remembered the absurdity of his evening. "They want to build a statue of me in the bay. I'm not opposed to having a statue, since every Avatar has one, but… if they want to build a statue in the bay then it ought to be of you."
Katara smiled warmly up at him and held back a giggle. "Really, now? That's very sweet, but what makes you think that?"
Aang looked back at her, incredulous. "It's too big to be me. And it's in the middle of water, so it would be perfect for you. And you'd deserve it." He squinted at her when she continued to laugh, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "What?"
She grinned at him. "Nothing. I'm touched that you feel that way."
He smiled back. It was hard to stay upset about it with her so content beneath him.
"But I sort of like what it would say about you," she conceded.
"And what's that?" he asked with a smirk.
This time she was the one who looked away, her grin softening with a blush. "Well, you're not the one planning it or asking for it, so it would reflect what other people think of you. That you're important, and reliable, and… held by water, in a sense."
"Oh," he said. He searched her face, taken off guard. "Was this your idea?"
Katara laughed out loud and squeezed her hands around his sides. "I may have had something to do with it. But I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable, Sweetie. I didn't realize they would take to the idea so intensely and keep you late over it."
Aang's eyes widened with embarrassment and his eyebrows shot up as he joined in her laughter. "Oh, Katara, I wish I had known! I would have accepted it from the start." He leaned down to pepper kisses all over her face, ending at her neck where he made himself comfortable again. She had all the same admiration for him that he had for her. "I love it, now that I know how you think of it. Really."
"I'm glad." She laughed again. "But now that you mention it, I would look good in copper."
"You would, but you'll have to get through the council first. Not even the bridge between humans and spirits could sway them," he joked.
Eventually they disentangled themselves to seek the comfort of their bed. Katara paused at the crib to check on Bumi. She leaned against the railing and watched him as he slept, her hand resting idly at her belly in thought.
She did deserve the honor of the statue, in Aang's opinion. But as he watched her, he thought that it wouldn't be enough, anyway. To him, she was bigger than everything.
A/N: FYI, the kataang sex room/prison/dungeon is basically canon (why else would Air Temple Island have a prison cell as seen in LoK?) and I'm not trying to claim ownership of the idea. I didn't even think of it myself, I was informed of it by talking with the other mods of kataang_dungeon. But I speak for all of them when I say: please consider this concept to be part of canon that anyone can write about lol.
(ps I'm still working on Lion Turtle ok sorry lol I just needed to get this out of my SYSTEM)