A/N: All characters have been aged up.

This chapter contains:

- rough sex

- spanking

- dom/sub undertones


The Avatar had no right to be this good at sex.

This burned town, it seemed, was full of surprises.

Azula runs her nails along the scar she gave him, and uses his resulting shivers to muffle her moans in the crook of his neck.

Long. Languid. Strokes.

The Avatar thrusts into her like he's trying to carve a message; sending waves of pleasure with every stroke of ink and joining their skin together in a series of loud punctuations. The resulting heat is enough for her to momentarily disregard the scorch marked wall against her back and the fact that they were practically fucking outside like animals. The stone rubble around them providing more of a mockery of modesty than any real measure of privacy.

She clenches and sinks her teeth into his shoulder. His neck would, sadly, have to leave unscathed.

Secrecy. And all that.

Azula settles for pressing her mouth sans teeth along his neck. Licking, nibbling, not quite marking. She smirks against his sun-kissed skin when the swears begin to roll off his tongue.

The Avatar was a filthy hypocrite.

She smacks her lips and presses them against his cheek.

"What would you do," she says, keeping her voice even, even as his pace picks up and his hands drift down from her waist to her ass. "If I did burn down this town? Hmmm?"

He palms her ass, fingers digging in just so as he continues to pound into her.

He lowers his mouth. Azula allows him to mouth at her breasts. His lips alternating between the barest of brushes and the filthiest of sounds as he laps and kisses.

She flicks his ear as her toes curl and the Avatar blows a gust of air against her nipples before biting down hard.

That's better.

They were way past foreplay and, if the heavy heat thrusting in between her thighs was anything to go by, they were both close.

Azula softly keens and absentmindedly rubs the place on his ear where she flicked him earlier before she remembers herself.

The Avatar pretends to not have noticed, but Azula can feel the hint of his smile even as he fastens his mouth around her nipple to quietly chew and suckle.

"Avatar," she pants, bringing her nails up the back of his neck and along the markings on his forehead.

It was a real shame she couldn't mark him. The sounds he made when she left the barest of scratches...if she could dig deeper she'd probably send him into the Avatar state.

The Avatar pauses in his wet worship to look up at her with a heavy lidded gaze that tells her they share the exact same sentiment.

She opens her mouth.

Answer me, is what she would have said had the Avatar not then lurched forward to press his mouth insistently against hers.

No kissing. Not on the mouth. It's a rule, not a hard rule, but one she is unwilling to break even as the Avatar retaliates against her closed mouth by moving his cock away so that she has only the tip to squirm against.

Azula briefly wonders if the world knows their savior has a demanding side.

She locks her legs around his back and pushes herself up to grind against him. Ignoring the way he sucks at her bottom lip.

He sinks into her just so but he also removes his hands from her ass. Azula frowns against his mouth. The mouth still pressing against hers.

filthy hypocrite

She thinks, a moment too late as firm hands are brought down in a resounding slap against her ass.

The shock, whether from the fact that the Avatar just spanked her or from the fact that he spanked her hard, makes her gasp.

The Avatar presses his advantage. His tongue painting the inside of her mouth with gusto as he resumes his deep strokes.

Azula bring her hand to the side of his neck and digs the other one into her scar as a reminder that she is the one allowing this.

If it bothers him, he doesn't let it show. Instead, he sucks on her tongue with a perverse fondness and wears an expression that she can't quite place.

She pushes him away abruptly with a plop, a line of spit, and, on his side, a high pitched whine.

"Answer me," she hisses, trying to subtly gulp down air.

There's that expression again.

She tilts his head, pausing to admire the strong lines in his jaw, and kicks his back. Just because they're talking doesn't mean he has to stop.

He takes the hint and resumes with quick, shallow, thrusts that are achingly sweet but not enough. She wiggles her ass back against his hands and he obeys her unspoken command with a series of stinging slaps accompanying his light prodding.

THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!

Azula groans and squeezes her thighs around the Avatar after a particularly vicious one sends a pleasurable vibration through them both. She then locks him in place with her legs and heats up her hands against his neck and their scar. "Answer me."

The Avatar responds by heating up his own hands and pressing his thumb in slow, casual, burning circles against the sensitive juncture of her hip before moving down to cup her now red bottom and give a firm, too warm, squeeze.

Azula's hands crackle with her final warning. She won't ask again.

He huffs, and leans back in.

"No," he whispers, more than a little bit breathless, and again lays claim to her mouth. This time, Azula parts her lips unprompted.

That damnable expression.

Regardless of her rules, Azula was utterly fucked.