Visiting the spirit world was a bad idea in hindsight. Not that she had a choice, given that the skyscraper spirit had dragged her in feet-first, but it was just a terrible idea in principle. Korra didn’t do spirits; she hadn’t gotten to that part of her training yet! She was here to fight Amon, not to mess around with spirits! She could at least have a guide show up so she wasn’t completely lost!
And, though she had informed the spirit world of this at the top of her voice, nothing happened. Korra scowled and kicked a rock; this place was nothing like the Spirit World that Aang had described in his journals. Instead of a jungle full of sarcastic monkeys, beetles made of gears crawled up and down the oily skyscrapers. Car spirits grumbled on the riverbed roads, stretching their wheels and rubbing mirrors like cats in heat. Stoplight fireflies helped Korra find a path, but their red-and-green lights were just as soon flickering over cars as illuminating the sidewalk.
Even familiar places like the Bending Arena were strange in the spirit world. It glowed sickly green, and the people inside it were distorted with wasplike waists and overlarge heads through the windows.
The view from the Silver Pass Bridge was glorious, though. The city glittered like silver chains, and Air Island was a ruby inset that glowed softly on a diamond background. The spirit world of the city was all metal and water and lightning,
“Hey, Avatar,” said something.
Korra spun. A woman was standing on one of the downward-swooping cables of the bridge, although standing was not the best word – she was upside down, after all. She wore silver – no, she was silver, six silver arms and two silver legs and a dress and gloves like the bridge’s thick black cable, with mismatched eyes like the stoplights on the bridge. “Who are you?”
“I am the Silver Pass Bridge,” said the woman, smiling. She has fangs, and her eyes are multifaceted like a spider’s. “I have come to guide the Avatar.”
“Then show me!” Korra replied. The woman swung her hand around and pulled a cord from her back, then tossed it to Korra. Once she grasped it in both hands, Korra floated above the ground and grinned. “This is more like it!”
“Follow me,” said Silver Pass. She climbed up one of the bridge poles; Korra was tugged up with her.
“So, why was I brought here? Did someone need me to fight someone?” Korra asks, twirling in mid-air.
Silver Pass does not look at her. “There a dispute you must end. We all need you to do this.”
“The entire city. All of us.”
Korra looked around and noticed, for the first time, that spirits have gathered below them. A rainbow of cars, stoplight bugs, a few inky-eyed skyscrapers peering from the distance, all of them focused on her. And there’s a noise, now, something soft and muffled that she can’t place yet. “You’re all here? It must be big!”
“It affects the whole city,” said Silver Pass. The noise is getting louder, but Korra can’t place it; she’s too busy gazing at all the spirits who are gazing back at her. “We all need this battle to end.”
“So, who is it you need me to beat up? I’m ready for them! Bring it on!”
“You misunderstand,” said Silver Pass. “You must end your dispute with the other human so that you all stop destroying our city.”
Silver Pass whipped Korra to the highest point of the bridge, scuttling after her like a spider. “You must make peace with each other,” she repeated, pointing up. “Because you keep on wrecking this town.”
Korra followed Silver Pass’s point. A blimp spirit was floating towards them; tangled in the wires hanging from it was Amon.
It was amazing how Amon could still manage a dignified pose while hanging from the cords of a blimp spirit. It had managed to gag him with a cord, at which point some thoughtful spirit had replaced his mask; it couldn’t have been Amon himself who put it back on because his arms were twisted out to his sides, his fingers bound tightly together, and forced onto his toes.
Korra couldn’t help herself. She laughed.
Amon gave her the dirtiest look he could manage while hanging from a blimp. Korra just laughed harder. Amon had haunted her dreams for weeks, he had the city cowering under his grip, and here he was: trussed up like a turducken and hanging helplessly from a blimp. She couldn’t deal with it.
Silver Pass, meanwhile, was weaving cords over the top of the bridge to make a small floor. Some great winged spirits were laying down mats on the floor – futon spirits, by the looks of them, with great green wings and pillow-like heads. Silver Pass gestured to Korra, who hopped onto the makeshift arena. The blimp swung Amon onto it across from her; his knees buckled, either from the impact or from the stress of being stuck on his toes for however long he had been there.
And now Korra had a situation she had never dreamed about: Amon in the same position he had put her in, on his knees and arms bound. She was probably – no, she was definitely enjoying this more than she should.
“So, how do you want me to deal with him?” Korra asked. She knelt in front of him, pressing his chin up so that he had to face her.
“You must make peace in the traditional human way,” said Silver Pass, crossing her arms. The spirits flocking around her cooed in agreement. The traditional way, the traditional way! “It is the way humans have made peace between each other for many generations. As the Avatar, you should be familiar with it.”
Amon attempted to say something through the gag, glaring. Korra ignored him. “What’s the traditional way? Do I need to beat him up?”
Silver Pass grinned, all fangs, and kicked the small platform away from the top of the bridge; it came to a halt over the middle of the bridge, too far for Korra to jump back to safety, and tugged Korra’s cord away from her. “Are you so green that they haven’t taught you that yet? If you don’t know, you should ask him. He’s read enough to know our ways.”
Korra turned back to Amon. The blimp was disentangling his limbs from the cords, leaving him limply kneeling before her. Amon was coughing with the removal of the cord from his mouth, which wasn’t helped by Korra jerking his chin up to face her again. “What are they talking about?”
Amon shoved her hand away from his face, adjusting his mask to cling tighter to his face before glaring up at her again. “Weren’t you listening to me? I told you to run.”
“What? Why should I run from this? They want me to finish our battle, don’t they? What’s to worry about?”
“The traditional way of making peace for humans in the spirit world,” Amon said, eyes narrowing, “is sex. They want us to have sex or they’re going to kill us.”
Korra stared. Korra stared some more. Korra’s face twisted up in horror, and she spun on her toes to yell at Silver Pass. “Is he serious?! You don’t really expect us to-”
“Your past fights have injured us,” Silver Pass said, crossing her arms. “You remember your fight with the large robots? You wrecked a good chunk of the city, including several of my arms. Or what about when you both destroyed the upper half of the professional bending arena? Not to mention what you’ve done to the poor motorcycle spirits, the house spirits, the library spirits…I can go on for some time. We, the spirits of the bridges and roads and houses and vehicles and factories, are the blood and bones of the city. We would kill two humans to protect our body, even if it meant dumping the Avatar and one of our nephews in spirit (ha) into an early concrete death.”
Korra was again struck by how many spirits were watching her. They crowded the cords of the Silver Pass bridge, and lined the road of it below. Amon, too, seemed unnerved by the spirits; he moved to the center of the makeshift bed-raft they were trapped on, rubbing circulation back into his wrists and being very careful not to bump into Korra.
“What now?” Korra asked. She sat down facing away from him; their backs were close enough that she could feel his heat.
“If you had listened,” Amon replied, “you would have left before this had happened. The Equalists can afford to lose me to the spirit world; we can’t afford to wait another twenty years for another Avatar to show up.”
“Maybe if I could understand what you were saying, I would have,” Korra snapped. “I can’t read your mind!”
Amon said nothing. Korra rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands and stared at the floor. This was not as planned. This was the opposite of planned. This was a disaster. How was she supposed to – how – what even – she, she knew how to have sex, of course she did, Katara had explained it very well and there were scrolls in Tenzin’s library and there was this one time she walked in a couple of White Lotus guards but. But. With Amon? And what kind of sex would they want? Would she have to go all the way? She’d only ever managed to get to the first zone with Mako; how was she supposed to do a knock out with Amon?
She groaned and sprawled out on the platform.
Some of the spirits were starting to cat-call now; one with blinking red lights down it’s sides was calling for them to take it all off, all of it! while a group of stoplight fireflies were chorusing advice on how to get started. Korra made a rude gesture at them, and they tittered like broken glass and swarmed away.
Finally, Amon turned to her. “Avatar. We can’t stay here forever. Our bodies will wither and die without our spirits, and these spirits are impatient.” He shifted. “Do you want to die? Or will we honor their ‘tradition’ as quickly as possible so we may return to our battle?”
“Of course I don’t want to die! But –“ Korra growled and smacked the platform. “How am I supposed to have sex with you?!”
Amon reached out to her, then rethought it and withdrew his hands. Then reached again. Withdrew. Then, gingerly, he reached out and honked her boob.
Korra gave Amon a Look. “Is that supposed to be foreplay? You can’t just honk the Avatar’s boob!”
Amon squeezed. Korra batted his hand away. Amon, somehow, managed to look petulant with a mask on. “I don’t see you with better ideas.”
“Let me think!” Korra sat up and rubbed her forehead, then poked Amon in the red spot on his mask. “Take this off. I’m going to kiss you.”
She growled and hopped onto his lap; Amon teetered over and ended up on his back, with Korra straddling his waist. “We are going to have sex somehow, so stop being such a baby about it!”
A round of applause floated up from the spirits. Korra shot them a dirty look before turning back to Amon, who was gingerly touching her boob again. She yanked his hand away and stuck two of his fingers into her mouth, sucking hard on them. His fingers tasted like…fingers, mostly. The faintest of earthy aftertaste from the blimp’s cords. She was not getting wet at all from pleasuring her partner, which was not what Jinora’s dogeared copy of Airbender from the East had promised her.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m sucking on your fingers! It’s supposed to be sexy!”
Korra facepalmed. “It’s better than your- it’s as if you’ve never touched a breast before!”
“Running a revolution has kept me busy,” Amon drawled.
Korra, again, stared. Stared more. And then she keeled over from laughing so hard that snot flew out her nose.
“Well, I don’t think it’s funny,” Amon said, putting a miffed hand to his chest. “Sex isn’t everything, young Avatar.”
“You – hahaha – you’re not allowed to say – hahahahaha, that, you’re still a virgin! Amon hasn’t even – ahahahahaha!”
“I can still do this,” Amon said, and honked her boob again. Korra huffed, grabbed his hand and licked it, at which point he withdrew it hastily and wiped it on his pants.
Korra lay giggling for a good few minutes, spirits forgotten. She was only interrupted when Amon sat up and pulled his belt-sash off, smoothing it out before offering it to her. “Put this over your eyes.”
“What, so you can roll me to a horrible plummeting death? No!”
“I’m not going to kill you. You’re more useful to me alive,” Amon said. “I’m going to take my mask off so we can do this properly, but I won’t allow you to see my face. So put this on.”
“Fine, fine,” Korra grumbled, and blindfolded herself. “I bet you’re just self-conscious about your ugly face. It’s not even scarred or anything; you just look like a lionpug with a squashed up face.”
“Hush,” said Amon. Then he bit her earlobe. Korra squeaked, jumped, and her head collided with Amon’s nose. He squawked and shoved down on her shoulders. “Hold still!”
“You hold still!”
Amon hissed something unintelligible and, instead, went for the hem of her shirt, rolling it up until it was over her breasts. His fingers and hands were rough and warm and felt better than Korra had imagined they’d be. Not that she’d been imagining his hands. No. It wasn’t as if being blindfolded was making her feel everything more intensely and wow, he knew what he was doing now. And, when he started to lightly thumb her nipples and press soft, rough kisses to her neck, that felt pretty good too. Mostly.
“Can you press my nipples harder? That’s tickling me.”
Amon did. Korra shrieked. “I said harder, not twist them off!”
“Make up your mind,” Amon muttered, and pinched for good measure. Korra smacked him through his hood.
“I’ll show you,” she muttered, and ran her hands down his chest, searching for his nipples. However, his shirt was too thick for her to feel much through, so she made some strategic adjustments. First, she shoved his knee between her legs because now she was starting to feel wet and having a little pressure helped a lot. Second, she started searching for the hem of his shirt so she could roll it up, but –
“The Avatar demonstrates the wonton destruction that is unique to bending,” Amon said, dragging his tongue over the hollow of her neck. “Unlike non-benders, who can get what they want without massive damage of private property.”
“Shut up. I know what you did with that giant robot. There’s a reason why you’re here too,” Korra replied, and punctuated it by digging her fingers into his nipples. Amon made a strangled sound and pinched hers again, and she shoved him, resulting in her straddling him again.
The spirits hooted. “Do you mind?” Amon growled at them, voice muffled by the sudden proximity of Korra’s boobs to his breath. Korra pondered the situation for a moment, then decided she could roll with it.
“Alright. Since your face is already there, you’re going to suck my boob,” Korra explained, grabbing Amon’s wrists before he could shove her off. “And while you do that, I’m going to find your pen - your co – di - none of these words sound sexy at all! I’m going to put a hand on your throbbing man-stick and get it hard so we can get this done properly!”
“No, no, and no. Get off. I am not doing that with anyone who calls it - that. You’re barely half my age. Get off!” Amon bit her nipple hard, and Korra boxed his ears until he let go, then pressed one hand over his mouth and another over his wrists until she could get her bearings. Despite his size advantage, Amon let her pin him.
His lips felt chapped. The skin under her hands was rough, almost scaly, and as she traced his face experimentally, seemed to remain scaly from just under his cheeks to down over his neck. Amon’s breathing was unsteady, rapid, and though his eyelids were fluttering heavily under her touch, he did not turn away. Korra drew her hand down to his bare chest until his breathing had steadied; then she kissed his chin chastely-
And then Amon broke her pin and shoved her face away roughly with one hand, her hand with the other, and Korra’s heart almost snapped at the fear of my bending my bending-
“Don’t touch my face,” Amon snapped, his whole body rigid under her.
Korra sat frozen, heart pounding. They stayed there for a few moments before Korra wiped her brow and smacked Amon’s chest. “Get your mask. I’m tired of being blindfolded.”
Amon twisted under her, then back, then sat up and pulled the blindfold off her; his mask was back on as if nothing had happened. “Now what?”
“Hey, Silver Pass,” Korra yelled, avoiding Amon’s gaze, “how far do we have to go?”
“You must both come to pleasure at least once!” Several other spirits added: You can do it, Avatar! Remember what you read, foxy! Make him take it all off! Eat her out!
“Shut up, you’re ruining the mood!” Korra yelled, then turned back to Amon. “So, how do you want to do this, foxy~?”
“Call me that again and I’m shoving you off the platform,” Amon said, “regardless of the plan.”
Korra decided not to push it after that last scare; instead, she ground the heels of her hands against his nipples, drawing an incoherent sound from him, and asked, “How do you want to do this? Water Tribe style? Earth Kingdom? Air Bison?”
“Air Bison is fine,” Amon managed, plucking her hands away from his chest. “You’ve been sitting on me all night, anyway. Let’s get your pants off.”
“O-oh, right.” Amon’s fingers hooked over her pelt and gently took it off, followed by helping her slide her pants down to around her knees. She then helped him pull his pants open, revealing a…a thing.
“It looks like an overfed earthworm.”
“It’s not very inspiring,” Amon sighed, giving it a tentative squeeze. “Your eloquence continues to impress.”
“Shut up! I’m new to this!” She poked it on the head, grimacing. “It’s more charming than you are.”
“It out-charms you as well.”
After a few false starts, Amon got the earthworm up and solid. It wasn’t particularly impressive to Korra, but she’d never had any experience with them outside of books anyway, so she. Just stared at it. “How am I supposed to get that…inside?”
“You have no experience?” Korra shook her head. “Don’t you do anything when you experience menses?”
“Mens- oh, the moon blood! Yeah, I – ooooh. Now I get it.” Korra peered down. “I’ve never done it with anything so big before.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Amon crossed his arms over his chest. “You can take care of that because I am not risking something going wrong.”
“Good, because I don’t want your fingers there anyway!”
Amon huffed at her. Korra rolled her eyes and pressed her fingers into her slick folds. She had – well, training on her moon blood was soggy and miserable, and so Katara and Pema had conspired to get her the best of what Republic City had to offer to mitigate that. Tampons were expensive but boy, did they make her more comfortable. And this wasn’t that much different, wasn’t it? She’d never had to put in one so. Uh. Thick. But she could handle this. She was slick enough to do this, and so she opened herself up with her fingers and slowly slid onto Amon.
She squeaked because oh wow, Amon’s co- di- his penis was a lot bigger than a tampon . Warmer, too. It was like she was sitting on a volcano. And now he was making a strangled noise, his fingers digging into her waist, and she gripped his shoulders tightly enough to draw blood until she was. Full.
“That feels weird,” Korra finally said.
Amon could only nod in return, any words he had dying in his throat. Korra rocked experimentally, sending shivers down Amon and sending a wave of heat through her body. She wiped her brow, then said, “It’s good, but it’s not that good.”
“Thanks,” Amon choked out. Korra rocked again, and Amon made a noise like a cross between a lemur and a satomobile. She grinned like a shark and started to rock on him. “You don’t – have to – do that – so rapidly,” Amon snapped at her, and Korra just grinned wider.
“You’re the air bison, aren’t you? Generally you’re not supposed to talk while you’re ridden.” She tapped the nose of Amon’s mask, then added: “Yip yip!”
“Will you – stop that- “
“Air bisons don’t talk! Yip yip, Amon; I want you to take me to the highest peaks of pleasure!”
“’m not an – air bison, you – “
“What’s that, boy? You’re getting tired already? What little stamina you must have!”
Amon snarled incoherently, then covered his face with his hands as Korra rocked on him. “Giving up yet, Amon? You’re not so strong when we fight on equal terms, you without chiblocking and me without bending.”
“Who says – I can’t – “
“The spirits would probably toss you into the bay.”
“Behold – the Avatar’s – violent sex talk – “
“Like you’re one to talk!”
Amon uncovered his face. If looks could remove bending – Korra was not going to finish that thought. “Two can play – at this game – so I’ll ride – a satocycle – and warn the pedestrians – of my arrival!”
And with that, he reached up and executed a two-fisted boob honk.
Korra shrieked, ramming one fist against Amon’s mask and the other on his arms. The blow to his elbows would have loosened his grip; unfortunately, the fist square on his nose had made Amon tighten his grip, and instead Korra ended up doubling over Amon . Blood leaked out from the openings under his nose, and Amon made a sound not unlike holding back tears from the suddenness of Korra, if not breaking his nose, smacking it against his mask enough hard enough to cause a nosebleed. And Korra, meanwhile, groaned in pain from Amon’s fingers digging into her breasts hard enough to bruise.
They sat there, wallowing in their mutual misery, until Korra decided she had had enough and started to pry Amon’s fingers off of her one by one. Amon retorted by pinching her nipples harshly. Korra retaliated by twisting his, her fingers digging into him, and Amon replied with another almost-sobbing noise and –
Korra was suddenly aware of a wetness inside her. Amon’s hard, hot penis now only had one adjective to it’s name. She boggled. “We’ve only been doing this for two minutes! How are you already - ”
“I’ve been busy!” Amon snapped back, and shoved himself up so he could yank on her hair. “What are you expecting from me?! I’m running a revolution, not a pro-bending team!”
“Leave Mako and Bolin out of this!” Korra started ramming her fists against Amon’s face as he started attempting to yank her hair out in fistfuls. His nose ended up between her breasts again, and so she ripped the back of his shirt open so she could rip it open with her nails. She ground her hips against him, and Amon hissed; she had read in several of Pema’s borrowed books that men were more sensitive after climax, so she was going to drive Amon as far up the wall as possible. “I’m allowed to have a social life! Don’t blame me for yours being nonexistent!”
“I’ve been – nngh, training to face you for years,” Amon grunted, ripping out Korra’s hairtie so her hair fell around her shoulders, “my most – potentially fearsome opponent – and I end up having to read gossip magazine drivel to keep up with you because you wouldn’t know – the political and – ah, socioeconomic troubles of society if they bit you!”
“I suppose you’re that situation, considering I can’t get you to stop biting me!” Korra slammed Amon back onto the platform. He grunted and attempted to roll himself on top of her, but Korra had enough leverage on him to slam him down again, the heel of one hand pressed light against the hollow of his throat, the other mashed over where his mouth should be.
Amon glared up at her. His visible skin was shiny with sweat and trails of drying blood from Korra’s nails, and the line of his chin was lined with bloody rivulets from his nose. “Look,” he managed, catching his breath. “Can we just. Get this over with.”
Korra hadn’t expected – what? For him to sound so tired? They had been fighting and fucking for what felt like hours, though it couldn’t have been much more than half an hour. For her to have been the one who had worn him out? He’d never been hit in any of her – in any battles he was in, period. To have him like this, exhausted and bloody and she’d never gotten someone injured to such a, a colorful extent in her life before. She rarely bloodied her opponents, not when she could knock them out with her bending. And she was aware of her own body was starting to ache, both inside and out.
“Fine,” she said. “Fine. I’m game. Let’s get this done with so that we can go fight like proper people in the real world.”
Distantly, she could hear the ambient noises of the spirits fading down; could almost feel their eyes glued to the two of them. She was acutely aware of the smell of their sweat.
“Thank you,” Amon said, quiet. “Now, close your eyes again.”
Korra sighed, but she picked up her abandoned hairtie and pulled it around her eyes. Amon rested his hands on her hips; she felt him breathe in deeply, felt one knee pull up against her back as if to steady her.
Then his hands flew. He hit her thighs, her shoulders, her hips, with jabs that stung for a moment before welling into great waves of pleasure between her legs. Korra gasped, head lolling back, and shoved her hand to her clit to help stroke herself to climax. Amon made a breathy noise of approval; Korra did not smack him for his insolence, too caught up in her, her, oh –
She wasn’t sure if she cried out. Her brain had become fog and light; smiled woozily as Amon helped her off of him, as he pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. It wasn’t until he had gotten his mask and the tattered remains of his shirt firmly back on that she shook out of it, pulling the tie off her eyes and re-tying her ponytail.
“What was that?”
“What was what?” Within a minute, Amon had returned to his usual intolerable smugness.
Korra scowled. She had meant – well, the kiss, surprising in it’s tenderness; his unexpected request for an end earlier; but the thing biggest on her mind was: “What was that stunt with all the jabbing? That sure didn’t act like your typical chibending stunt.”
Amon chuckled. “Did you think that spiritbending was the only gift I had? I’ve studied pressure points extensively, and hitting the right ones can –“ He was interrupted by a “woo!” from a fox spirit perched next to Silver Pass, who he ignored until it quieted; “Hitting the right ones can bend chi in ways that are restorative to humans.”
“Why didn’t you just tell people about that? I bet you could get a revolution done a lot faster if you sent flyers to the high council offering free orgasms.” Amon gave her a Look as she pulled up her pants. “What?”
“I’m not a sex vending machine. That was not what this power is for. I am to bring justice to the world.”
“Justice of causing terror and mayhem, maybe,” Korra snapped. “The whole ‘kill all benders’ gig isn’t going to make you popular.”
“It’s worth it.”
That, Korra had no reply to.
The platform shuddered, then moved slowly to the solid end of the bridge. Silver Pass stood up, clapping with all three sets of arms; the rest of the spirits joined in, surrounding Korra and Amon in an avalanche of applause. Korra waited until it died down, then: “We don’t have to do anything more, do we? No post-sex cuddling or anything?” Amon, behind her, shuddered at the thought.
Silver Pass shook her head. “You’ve proven your dedications to peace. As long as you don’t wreck our city again, we won’t drag you back here again.”
Amon and Korra looked at each other, then back at Silver Pass. “Definitely not.” “Never. It’s simply not happening.” “We won’t worry you again.” “If I never have to see the mutated earthworm he calls a-“ “Avatar.” “-it’ll be too soon!”
Silver Pass put her hands on Korra’s arm and shoulder. “This way,” she murmured. Behind her, the fox spirit ran up and onto Amon’s shoulder, nuzzling his mask as Amon cupped it’s face. Korra pointedly ignored all of them as Silver Pass floated her to the ground. It was only when her feet were on the ground that Korra made a realization that sent her spinning around to glare up at Amon.
“If you touch my forehead again, you - !”
The small figure that was Amon shook with what she could only assume was laughter. Korra growled at him until Silver Pass hurried her back to her body and Korra fell back into her body.
A week later, Avatar Kyoshi contacted Korra in her dreams.
“I came to apologize,” Kyoshi said, sitting cross-legged opposite Korra; “we would have come to assist you, but Roku was so overcome by the sheer awkwardness of the situation that by the time we pried him out of his hiding place, it was too late.”
“It’s fine,” Korra said, smacking her fist into her palm. “Now I know that Amon is human under that mask, and I think I can hit his weaknesses a bit better.”
“Good.” Kyoshi nodded to her. “You did well under pressure, Korra. The city spirits are more in tune with humanity, and I feel that they did well in tipping the scales of this battle to save their homes.”
“Tipping the scales?”
“Amon’s spirit host is powerful, but his temper is even worse. Were he to find out what Amon has – “ Kyoshi stopped, shook her head. “I’ve said too much. Suffice to say that the sooner this battle is over, the better the spirits will feel.”
“Okay. I can do that!” Korra flexed, then. Paused. “There is one thing I wanted to ask you.”
“Can people get pregnant in the spirit world?”
“Only people of great spirituality can become pregnant in the spirit world.” Korra gulped. “So fear not; Amon is more at risk of a spiritual pregnancy than you are, Korra.”
“That’s goo – HEY.”
Korra woke up pouting. She lay staring at the ceiling for a long moment, then stuck her hand into her pants and screwed up her eyes. With her other hand, she honked her boob, pretending to feel Amon’s calluses rubbing roughly against her nipple, that the stickiness between her thighs was partially composed of his blood.
With any luck, when Amon found out what she’d been fapping herself to sleep to for the past week, he’d be so shocked that she could knock him out before he could do anything. She imagined his eyes going huge under his mask at the idea, his shoulders going rigid, and became doubly wet. She would get off on the idea of him to spite him, then rub it in his face as she dragged him to the police, and then she’d have some peace everywhere except her bedroom.
Amon would just have to deal with it.