A/N: All characters have been aged up.
This chapter contains:
- sex toys under clothing
- cum marking/mild cum play
Smaller than her hand from base to tip the plug was modest at best. Carrying it within her to the washroom was hardly an imposing task.
In theory.
Azula let a soft moan run down her lips as the dildo rocked with her steps, the broad leather-wrapped base was snug against her folds, and the simple motion of lifting one leg after the other made the leather part her pussy in a dirty kiss as the toy slid in and out.
He had filled her quite thoroughly, even without the dildo, and his cum kept sliding down the leather only to slide back up in a hiccup as she brought her leg down. A perpetual, frustrating, reminder.
Azula stopped walking altogether. Her washroom was only a few steps away, but there was already an ache between her thighs. She needed a moment. Azula leaned against the wall and carefully lowered herself down; heat creeping up her neck as the toy was jostled in the process.
She groaned as she sank further down.
She was always sensitive after their encounters, and acutely aware of the blissful ache between her thighs, of her nipples brushing against her barest of clothes, and of the tender marks the Avatar had deigned to leave her.
It was a weakness, and a reason to not see him as often as she could.
Azula groaned when her sore ass finally met the harsh wooden floor; the heat from his handprints sending a pleasant thrill.
It's a nice enough feeling, she supposed, as she felt herself pulse around the plug.
There was no one around but Azula still double-checked to see whether her door was bolted shut. Their clandestine arrangement would never have lasted this long if both of them weren't exceedingly careful.
Alone, Azula closed her eyes, raised her hips, and then carefully rocked back and forth against the wooden floor.
It quickly became apparent that the slight relief the rolling movement brought would not be enough. Azula alternated bouncing her hips off the floor, squeezing the dildo when she hovered in the air and then smacking her cheeks against the floor in a forward rock.
At one point, the base of the dildo clipped the floor in a way that made her shudder and Azula spent an embarrassing minute trying to recreate the motion until, with a frustrated growl, she concluded that the dance—her one-sided fuck—against the floor would never be enough.
Azula stopped moving and without the thumping sound. The only noise left in the room was of her panting and burning shame.
"Avatar," she hissed, using his name in place of a curse, as she leaned back on her heels to better assess the toy he had so graciously left her with.
The dildo bulged out from her slit; black leather spilling out across her swollen folds. Azula made a frustrated sound in the back of her throat as she brought her hands down and, framing the dildo between her fingers, tried to push it out. The dildo bobbed between her legs like a flag, waving at her, before sinking firmly back into her cunt.
It won't slip out, concluded Azula with a huff. She ran her fingers along the base, brushing them across the inscription—"Avatar Aang's"—before pulling them back to circle the rim. Despite knowing—and feeling—the loads left inside of her; Azula's fingers remained dry, without a drop of cum staining them
She stood up, albeit gently, and continued walking, albeit more slowly, towards the washroom. Despite her gentle and slow steps, the leather-wrapped phallic torture device continued to tease. Every step sent a slight bounce. A slight nudge.
Azula squirmed.
Why didn't you bend it into a bigger shape? Azula mentally berated the Avatar as she slid her hand down between her legs and rubbed her palm against the inscription,"Avatar Aang's," to try and quell her ache.
Do you really expect this to stay? When I am used to the fullness of your cock— Azula chased the line of thought away with a scowl. I am not fond of him.
His cock just happened to fit her very well. That is all.
She let out another frustrated growl. He did this on purpose. Of course, he did.
Her impromptu tests had proven that the dildo was too small and too rigid to do anything more than tease. All the toy could do was make her feel as though the Avatar was standing behind her with the tip of his cock eased in. Nudging. Teasing.
The chances that the Avatar had chosen such an insidious size last minute were so abysmally low that Azula would be willing to bet her crown.
He planned this.
Azula clenched and unclenched around the dildo. The leather-clad stone matched the shape of his cock down to the ridges and veins. For how long, Avatar?
An image popped into her head. One of the Avatar, shirtless, with sweat glistening down his torso as he holds the phallic instrument in one hand and strokes his cock with the other; his tongue sticking out in a concentration as he makes sure to bend the stone in such a way that Azula would be able to feel every detail.
Pervert.
She wasn't sure if she was insulting the Avatar or herself. Azula could, after all, choose not to go along with his fantasy and instead seek her own release.
Azula frowned as she reached the washroom. She had gotten so accustomed, unintentionally, to the Avatar taking care of her needs that in all honesty she had never bothered to explore her body beyond the surface.
Staring at the mirror above the basin, she rubbed her palm against the dildo, pushing it even deeper, and watched her reflection gasp.
She could figure it out. The Avatar certainly had. Then again, the Avatar had thrown her a gauntlet. It would be dishonorable to refuse.
And the feeling wasn't bad.
Azula leaned forward to rest her arms against the bathroom counter and that simple motion made her eyelashes flutter as she felt his cum slide against the leather as the toy rocked.
Of course, if she chose to play along with his fantasy then once she left the room there would be no going back.
The festivities would first take place outside, and Azula would be obligated to stand and mingle with the nobility and dignitaries alike. She might be able to sneak away and find respite when all the guests are ushered inside to listen to her brother's speech, but more than likely Azula would have to wait until after the banquet to find release.
And she would be carrying the Avatar's load the entire time.
Azula took in a deep breath—
How dare you have this effect on me.
—and glared at the mirror, at her familiar yet unfamiliar washroom, and at the forgotten tube of lotion clutched tightly in her left hand.
With a flash of fire; Katara's lotion turned to ash.
"I am not fond of him."
The dildo didn't fall out.
Azula almost wished it had.
The dignitary in front of her was prattling for the better part of an hour and no matter how Azula shifted her weight, the dildo would not go any deeper nor would rub against her any faster.
I hate you, Avatar.
"Fascinating," she replied for the ninth time, biting back a sigh as she forced herself to not look around for the Avatar. What's taking him so long?
"I agree, Princess Azula, and, may I say, the Fire Nation looks a lot stronger with you by its side."
A moderate, surmised Azula,Too cowardly to fight for my father, but a potentially useful tool nonetheless. "I agree," she echoed, holding out her hand. "Though your presence is certainly a reassurance."
The dignitary raised her hand for a kiss and Azula nearly jumped in surprise as the dildo began to wiggle.
Avatar.
A quick glance around determined that the Avatar was in hiding.
Azula grit her teeth, So that's how he wants to play, and showed the dignitary an award-winning smile.
"Your support comes as a shock," said Azula as she subtly pressed her knees together, "after all, I am not the strongest candidate."
A calculated moment of vulnerability, a quick swallow of pride, and the dignitary was falling over himself with pleasantries. She didn't have to speak; all she had to do was nod.
Your move, Avatar.
The dildo stopped wiggling and Azula turned, only to freeze as it moved again except into an increasingly demanding pattern.
At first, a leisurely circle like the Avatar was twirling his fingers through her hair, and then into a shorter, more aggressive movement, as if his fingers had curled and were now tugging on her hair.
Tug. Tug. Tug.
Like the minute hands of a clock. The toy was undulating.
Azula glared at the back of a shiny bald head as she fought to keep her composure.
She didn't miss the sly tilt of his lips, as he turned towards and the dildo turned with him in a slow, gyrating, motion.
Azula nearly bit her lip off.
She began to move towards the Avatar; to greet him, as customary, and to subtly pinch his arm, as for her benefit.
The Avatar tapped his foot and Azula shot him another glare as the dildo gave two quick jumps. He met her gaze and Azula suppressed a sly smile of her own.
Aang did look handsome in his robes. Azula briefly imagined pulling them away to see her marks underneath.
"Avatar," she called, managing to keep her tone indifferent.
"Princess," answered Aang, holding his poker face as he made the dildo wave in greeting.
Azula was about to give a reply when she realized that while she hadn't missed the tilt of his lips, she had missed the fact that he had not arrived alone.
She tilted her chin upwards and said, curtly, to the lady at his side, "Katara."
"Azula," replied Katara with a frown.
Azula had a veiled insult poised, ready to spring to life at a moment's notice, when Katara laid her hand on Aang's arm.
And Aang didn't brush her away.
He didn't say anything. Not one voice of complaint.
The insult withered on her tongue.
Azula watched as the hand moved to rest on his back. Over her scar.
She waited for Aang to brush her away.
He smiled.
The hand stayed, and Azula tried to take a breath only for his name to burn in her throat.
Up until that moment, Azula hadn't realized she was in love.
Aang frowned.
Azula brought out the worst in him; a possessive side which, if he was being honest with himself, was part of the reason why his and Katara's relationship didn't work out.
The feeling had reared its ugly head when he had spotted Azula chatting with a richly dressed fancy guy and, admittedly, moving the dildo with earthbending was a petty move, even if the reaction was well worth it, but that was still no reason for Azula to ignore him.
He was about to say her name again when he felt a tug on his arm.
He turned. "Katara?"
"Are you okay with Azula being here?" asked Katara, her voice hushed.
Aang glanced around at the guests who, while they were some distance away, had their ears perked in the distinct manner of an eavesdropper. He followed Katara's example and lowered his voice to a near whisper as he replied, "I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" Katara's hands reached up to pull on her hair and she narrowed her eyes. "I understand if you aren't. Considering what she did, her sudden change of heart is certainly a surprise."
"I think it was long overdue," said Aang. He swallowed and snuck a glance towards Azula. "I hope it's permanent."
He wasn't sure what he'd do if it wasn't. Childhood felt like a century ago and he had spent far too much energy and emotions in whatever they had to go back to awkward crushes.
Aang rolled his tongue over his teeth.
It didn't feel like a crush. With Katara, he was happy being her lover or her friend. With Azula, he wasn't sure if she even considered him an acquaintance but he'd sooner give up his bending than never be able to kiss her again.
"Aang?"
He blinked. "Sorry, I've been frustrated lately."
Katara nodded. "I know, it's been hard. On all of us." She frowned before patting his arm, reassuringly. "But you can rely on us, Aang. We won't let Azula hurt you again. I won't."
"I know you won't…but." Aang winced. These half-lies were the hardest for him. "I'd feel better if I was able to talk to her. Alone."
She's ignoring me.
Aang narrowed his eyes as Azula continued talking to the guy as if he wasn't clearly standing right behind her and waiting to speak.
He glanced around and cocked a grin. Two can play at this game.
Quick as a rat-viper, his hand darted out towards the place he knew still bore his red handprint.
He pinched his target and listened to Azula cover a yelp mid-sentence.
"Can I help you, Avatar?" demanded Azula, with barely suppressed ire.
Aang stepped forward and wedged his hand between her ass and his thigh. He smoothed his fingers, cupping her bottom, lifting it up, and letting it jiggle against his palm. "It's okay," he murmured, leaning forward to catch the slight hitches of her breath. "You can finish your conversation," he said, adjusting his grip until his fingers were splayed out. He gave Azula a slow, firm, squeeze. "I insist."
Azula opened her mouth to argue, but the stranger was faster and evidently eager to please.
He's a talker, thought Aang with a smile as the stranger began to prattle. He ruefully moved his hand away from Azula's ass, in case someone were to walk by them during the spiel, and folded them behind his back. With a few flicks of his wrist, he amused himself by making the dildo shake back and forth.
Azula didn't say anything or even look at him. Is she having second thoughts about all this? worried Aang.
He looked towards her and spotted a bead of sweat on her neck and so, in a show of compassion and bending skill, he made a gust of airbrush against her skin while continuing to earthbend.
Azula turned to him sharply.
"Come to the garden with me?" he murmured, slowing the dildo to a stop and widening his eyes for good measure.
"Child," bit back Azula in a low mutter, but she nodded and, Aang noted with pride, she was no longer ignoring him.
"There are six places we can go from here," declared Azula with a cross of her arms.
"Are there?" replied Aang, with his back toward her as he leaned in to admire a wayward flower.
Azula didn't understand how the Avatar could be so nonplussed when she was standing right in front of him ready to be fucked. Normally, she would have said something, done something, anything to claim a hollow victory in their game.
But she had already lost.
Every step made the dildo slide against her walls, teasing her, leaving her with an aching reminder of what she could have.
Aang brushed his fingers through the petals, shamelessly stroking the center with his thumb. Back and forth and back and forth.
Azula swallowed a moan.
She wanted to feel all of him. His thick cock. His firm chest. His—
She snapped her mind back to the present, but the heat between her legs was persistent; it curled upwards around her perky nipples and unfurled across her face in a creeping rose blush as the Avatar drew back his pollen-coated thumb.
He turned to her and Azula drank in the sight as rays of sunshine, like strands of gold, caressed his arms; illuminating the definition of his muscles against the vivid blue of his tattoos and the softer sea green of his veins.
"You can do more than stare, you know."
Azula blinked. "I'm simply admiring the rare sight of you in formal clothes."
Aang smiled and sheepishly rubbed his neck. The movement made his sun-draped muscles flex and Azula's gaze was drawn to them one again until a flicker of pink stole her attention.
She glanced back to his face in time to watch Aang's tongue run over his bottom lip before retreating into his mouth.
Azula clenched her jaw. "Six places, Avatar."
Aang forgets he's the Avatar when he's with Azula.
Despite the way his title runs down her lips like a prayer, and the way her nails rest on the back of his neck like a death sentence, every moment he spends with her makes him feel, strangely, like himself.
Avatar Aang.
Avatar.
Aang.
Azula wanted to ruin both.
She brought him to a hidden corridor. One of six, he assumed and gestured for him to kneel.
His knees dug into the wooden floor before she'd finished her sentence.
He couldn't break out of her hold now even if he wanted to.
In the shadows of their narrow passageway, her painted eyes and lips seemed to shine.
They beckoned him closer.
Aang, hastily, looked down at the pale curve of her neck, chasing it as it disappeared under fine silk. Her hair, half loose, was a dark curtain that framed her shoulders and begged him to run his fingers through.
His gaze dipped lower.
Her edges have been softened by the finery, he mused almost poetically as he imagined what laid behind the fabric.
Soft and pink. A perfect handful, so eager for his mouth and fingers. He imagined her rosy red nips would be poking at the cloth by now, so desperate for his touch.
He wanted to unravel her. To pop her breasts through the finery and show everyone his marks on her skin. That she was his.
Instead, he dragged his knuckles across his clothed thighs, resisted the urge to tug on his high collar, and pressed his palms to his knees in wait.
She's skittish.
He didn't know why her hands were trembling as she reached down to unravel the loose fabric. Layer after layer she disrobed until her creamy thighs came into view. She didn't touch her shirt.
What are you afraid of?
A flash of crimson and the thought was gone; replaced by another, unbidden.You shouldn't be wearing these.
It was a crime, if not a sin, to cover up freedom like this.
Aang let out a curse, the sound of which caused Azula to chuckle as he reached forward and pulled the offending garment off.
"Eager, aren't we?" she teased, as if the hand on the back of his neck wasn't urging him closer.
Are you okay?
"I can stop," he retorted, even as he moved to bathe her mound with his tongue. He swirled a trail in the same pattern of an Air Sigil and felt Azula shiver.
So sensitive.
Aang smiled as nuzzled his chin against the stray thistles of hair framing his arrow.
He liked her like this.
Being able to make Azula flustered, making her part her perfectly painted lips in a gasp, turning her smug look into a half-lidded gaze, having her porcelain indifference turn heated, was intoxicating, addicting, and the reason Azula had such a hold on him.
Aang delicately trailed his hand along her thigh and placed two fingers against the base of the dildo.
He listened as Azula's breath hitched and he watched with a small frown as she smoothed her expression.
"Good?" He asked.
I want to ruin you too.
Azula nodded and lifted her shirt, likely to avoid any incriminating wrinkles than to give him a show, but Aang appreciated the peak of her tummy and took the opportunity to place a kiss; feeling her muscles tense underneath his mouth as he did.
The dildo bobbed.
Like a pacifier, he thought, with a slight curl of his lip as he tilted his head and nipped the skin right below her belly button.
You're so wet.
He pushed the dildo further in and felt her quiver in his hand, then he kissed his way down to the arrow that he burned, his cock twitching in approval.
"Stop teasing," moaned Azula, arching her back, the motion drawing attention to her breasts as they jiggled.
Aang picked her panties off the ground and wrapped them around his knuckles. He pressed them against his pants, palming himself through them, and focused on making her unravel.
Come on.
He slowed his strokes and let the crimson silk spill between his fingers before sighing softly and quickly glancing up.
Azula didn't say or do anything and, worse, she had smoothed her expression back into that infuriating indifference.
Aang loudly sighed and decided to let her stay plugged with his cum for a moment longer as punishment.
He leaned forward and busied himself by sucking on her mound, over the pale expanse of skin, until it was marked by a pink hickey glistening with spit and then, he made sure to smooth his expression into one of serene indifference.
Then, as he felt Azula's gaze, Aang calmly shook his head, clicked his teeth with audible disapproval, and brought down his teeth.
He could hear her gasp and then whimper as he chewed and sucked but he didn't let go until her gasps turned into a high-pitched mewl.
Better?
Aang drew back his mouth and while her body trembled he ground his palm against the base of the dildo.
Azula writhed. Her nails found the back of his neck and Aang watched as she tried to fuck herself on his hand.
He waited till her expression smoothed once more and then he moved down right below the hickey and repeated the motion.
"Aang!"
He stopped, at the last second, and slid his thumb up to rest upon her clit.
Aang paused to listen to Azula try and fail to hide a whimper.
Am I good enough?
His brows furrowed in concentration. If she's this sensitive now then why … the thought trailed off as Azula opened her mouth and said in a half-pant half-whine, "I can feel your—" she let out another mewl as he teased her clit. "—when I walk."
"My cum?" offered Aang helpfully, stroking the inscription of the dildo as Azula tried to glare at him.
His pants had long past the point of comfortable but the thought of fucking Azula every day, with her growing more sensitive the day after each fuck, was what pushed him into finally reaching down and adjusting himself.
He debated releasing his cock but the prospect of teasing Azula when she was so sensitive was too alluring. He tucked the head into his waistband and giddily danced his fingers up her thighs.
He cupped her ass, matching his hands to the handprints he'd left, and soothed the spot by rubbing his hands in gentle circles over the spot.
Aang felt her clench. He waited for her eyes to shut and for a soft sigh to escape, then he reached down and flicked the rim of the dildo.
He watched his name bounce as she bucked and asked, "Are you usually this sensitive after we fuck?" he peered at her with avid interest, tapping on the base with his nails, "Does it hurt?"
"No," Azula groaned, saying something at last, but Aang didn't have much time to enjoy his victory as Azula moved to rest her foot on his groin.
Aang jerked forward in response but a sudden increase of pressure prevented him from moving very far. He took a sharp breath as Azula dragged her foot over his cock. "Are you…" she mused, tugging on his shirt collar. "...enjoying this?"
Aang wasn't sure what she was talking about at first. He supposed the way she rubbed his length felt nice but he'd much rather prefer her hand, or her mouth, or her cunt, and he was about to say as much when she placed her hand on the back of his neck and squeezed.
"Are you enjoying this?" she repeated, tightening her hands around his neck, "Being at my mercy?"
Do I like this?
Aang meditated on the thought as Azula squeezed his throat.
If he was being honest, it was a stupid question. He was painfully hard and despite choosing the baggiest of formal pants, there was a good chance she could see him straining against the fabric.
But Azula wasn't one to ask stupid questions.
"I like it," he said with a chuckle as he imagined Monk Gyatso giving him a speech about how, one day, Aang would find himself in this precise position with a former enemy and a raging erection.
Maybe it's my destiny, he mused with a flutter of his eyes before Azula let go of his throat.
He gave her a nod as he lifted her legs and placed them on his shoulders.
"Yeah," Aang moaned, as he felt her thighs begin to choke him, "Yeah, I guess I am."
He reached forward and patted the dildo; watching his name twitch as Azula's face tinged a wrathful red.
Aang nuzzled her thigh in a silent comfort and waited for Azula to release him before eagerly leaning in and ghosting his breath over her swollen folds.
"Fuck, Azula, you're drooling."
She made a carnal noise in the back of her throat.
He gently traced his fingers around the base, glancing up at her, before tilting the dildo up. Pearls of cum began to leak out and Aang immediately swiped his fingers over them. He slid two fingers down the dildo, gathering any stray fluid, before plunging them into her pussy.
His cock throbbed as her pussy eagerly swallowed the digits. He thrust his fingers in and out while twisting the dildo and was rewarded with a mewl and a hissed, "Are you going to take it out?"
Aang drew his fingers out, wiping them on her ass, and pushed the dildo back in. Her legs twitched at the action so he ran his thumb against the inscription and watched as she tried to buck against his hand.
"I don't think you want me to," he concluded, and then, when Azula didn't argue, he pressed his mouth firmly against the base and hummed.
"Hmmmmmmmm?"
Azula moaned, a soft low sound that echoed in the empty passageway.
He withdrew his mouth—
"No one can hear us," she snapped, pulling him back.
"That's not a response," he huffed, but obliged in her request by smacking his lips against the base in a series of wet, noisy, kisses.
The toy jostled. Aang danced his hands along her hips, sliding them up her shirt, the scrap of panties forgotten, and stood up.
"Wha—?" gasped Azula, bracing her hands against his chest for a moment before moving them to rest at her side.
Aang frowned at the action and slid his knee up between her thighs, pinning her to the wall.
He moved to kiss her neck and was stopped.
"Makeup," she said, and then, when he slid his hands up her shirt, "Don't wrinkle my clothes."
Did I do something wrong?
"I won't," he said, tilting his head in an unspoken question.
Azula was looking at his body with a heady gaze but her hands remained fixed to the wall.
He moved closer, letting her feel his arousal, and slid his knee further up to rest against her heat.
"I like this look on you," admitted Aang as a peace offering. "I like knowing that you want me."
Azula shut her eyes tight and he paused.
She was aroused, that much he could see and, and with the way she was locking her ankles around him, she clearly didn't want him to stop.
So why are you being so rigid?
Aang chewed his lip in consideration and absentmindedly bounced his knee against Azula, feeling her roll against him even as she curled her hands against the wall and refused to touch him back.
"If you come now you'll be oversensitive," he guessed, "Is that it?"
Maybe I shouldn't let you come then.
Aang rubbed his hands in circles against her belly, feeling the perfect amalgamation of soft skin and toned muscles twitch as she tried to hide her gasps.
"Azula…" He rocked against her thigh and felt her rock back. "Princess…" he said, pushing down on the spiral of hickeys he had made across her stomach. "Do you want to cum?"
"Don't," she moaned and Aang leaned forward, brushing his lips against her neck he asked, "Don't what?"
Azula closed her eyes.
"Don't touch my bra. Wrinkles will give us away."
He dropped his hands from where they were trailing up her shirt and she smirked at him with her eyes still shut.
A flash of anger.
Aang grabbed her chin and squeezed, making her lips purse, then stretched his fingers to cradle her face. "Kitten," he whispered, scratching the underside of her chin, "Are you enjoying this?"
Azula opened her eyes with a scowl.
"Avatar," she growled, and Aang had a brief moment to enjoy the feeling of her hands on his hips before cool air suddenly graced his cock.
"Stop talking," commanded Azula. She turned around and folded her arms against the wall.
"Azu—"
"Mark me."
Aang thought he misheard at first. "Mark you?"
She buried her face into her arms and sighed.
"...Please," she whispered and Aang so dearly wished he could see her face.
A pause, broken only by heavy breathing as Azula carefully rolled up her shirt and centered her ass firmly against his cock.
"...what do you want me to do?" he asked at last.
Aang could see the back of her neck turn scarlet but he didn't say anything. He wanted to know if she wanted this; wanted him, even if it was for but a moment.
At last, she broke.
"I want you to come over me," confessed Azula, and then she reached between her thighs to cup his balls and that was all it took.
Aang jerked forward with a startled moan and painted her ass with cum—creamy white against rosy red.
He felt his cock slap against Azula's ass as she shuddered, whether from the feeling of hot cum or something else, Aang didn't know.
"You like that?" He whispered, leaning forward to nibble on her red-tipped ear.
Azula dipped her head. Aang couldn't see her face.
He gripped her hips— is this okay? —smearing his fluids as he rutted against her and coaxed the last few drops out of his cock.
Azula made a raspy sound from the back of her throat, a half-growl half-gasp, and arched her back further, trapping his spent cock between her thighs.
"I want to hear you say it," muttered Aang with a frown. He cupped his hands underneath the dripping mess and smoothed his palms over the curve of her ass then glanced up to see Azula's neck turn crimson.
Aang sighed, letting his breath cool over her skin. He rested his chin on her shoulder and tried to place a kiss on the corner of her jaw, but Azula turned away.
Aang pressed his smile into her neck.
"Do you want to know a secret?" he mumbled, massaging her asscheeks.
He cupped his hands into a makeshift funnel and let the remaining drops of cum drip down the center of her ass.
Azula shivered, and Aang scooped up the globs of cum that were edging towards her thighs, parted her cheeks, and smeared the fluid in such a way that it would trickle down her crack.
"Princess?"
Her shoulders tensed. He waited.
She gave a shaky nod and Aang leaned forward, his hands dipping around her waist and down her hips.
"I fantasize about giving you a tattoo here," teased Aang, his fingers brushing the remaining few wisps of hair as he traced his name over the arrow. He reached down further, gliding his fingers down to her folds and brushing the base of the dildo.
He cupped his hand, holding her crotch like a trophy. "Would you like that? Having my name?"
"Now?"
Aang froze, blood rushing to his face. He saw Azula smirk.
"No, not now." He mumbled, ruefully pulling his hands away. "...I should get dressed. The speech is soon."
"I didn't expect anything less," sighed Azula as if she didn't know he'd gladly fuck her again.
"I can—"
"You should leave first," interrupted Azula, "We can't be seen rejoining the festivities together. It would be improper."
Improper?
"...okay. I will." Aang hesitated, but he dressed in silence.
Azula had already killed him once. The words stayed trapped on his tongue.