the_codex: (Porn)
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Written as a shameless groveling to [ profile] capslock_zutara for someone to draw fanart of.

Title: Turnabout Is Fair Play
Fandom: Avatar
Pairing: Zuko/Katara
Rating: R

Disclaimer: I own not, you sue not.


Turnabout Is Fair Play


He struggled fruitlessly against the ropes, succeding only in scraping up his back against the bark of the tree, and certain other overly sensitive parts of him against the bonds themselves. Not that he minded that part. It was certainly better than staying still and watching her torture him this way.

She perched on a rock a few feet away, half reclined and looking content as ever, clothed in naught but a royal blue sarong about her hips. Her hair was down, out of its braid, just barely long and thick enough to cover her very naked breasts, but only as long as she or the wind deemed to stay still. And both seemed to be against him today.

For in her hand was one of the special treats she'd made all of them after dinner. Something she called an "ice pop." Really it was nothing more than a frozen tube of fruit juice with a stick to hold while eating it. In this case, she had been evil enough to use peach pureƩ, which gave the treat a pale, pink-orange -- distinctly flesh-toned -- color.

This did not help his quickly growing problem as her tongue glided up and down the length of it in slow, decadent licks, her lips covering and sucking on the rounded end for just a moment before going on. He felt his cheeks burn, twisting his wrists gingerly to test the strength of the knots. They held firm. In the back of his mind, he cursed the little minx in front of him a thousand times over.

She'd tied him this way purposely. Arms behind him, wrists bound around the tree with a single length of double-woven hemp that wrapped around his waist and hips and the tops of his thighs. Effectively immobilizing him and at the same time exposing him to whatever devious scheme she had planned. He could barely wait to find out.

"This is it?" he growled. "This is all you've got? You're just going to make me stand here and watch you finish your dessert?"

She hummed softly, pulling the popsicle from her mouth and licking the melted juice off her lips with a grin. "You think I'm going to be that tame?"

"I'm hoping you won't be," he said, trying to control his breathing and imagination at watching that little pink tongue. "Because that would be utterly disappointing."

She chuckled, giving the damned thing another lick. "Oh my dear, dear Prince. I have no intention of disappointing you tonight." She rose from her perch, and he was torn between regretting and welcoming the provocation as the rope binding his hips became even more uncomfortable. She sauntered up right in front of him, the sarong riding low on her hips.

Her hand reached out, lightly stroking his hair from his face. An almost soothing touch, but one that did little to calm him. Quite the contrary. "So...what were you exspecting when you agreed to this little arrangement?"

He shivered and closed his eyes, swallowing thickly as those soft fingertips slowly grazed down the bridge of his nose. "I...don't know."

"Looking to be surprised?"


She soothed over his lips, drawing closer. Enough that he felt the heat of her body close to his cheek. "It's exciting, isn't it? Not knowing what's coming."

He nodded, and heard the soft rustle of the sarong as she shifted her weight. His breath caught a moment later as a small pool of ice cold liquid fell onto his collar, trickling into that deep groove of muscle down the center of his chest. Only to be smoothed away a moment later by something warm and wet and silky smooth, that it took him a shameful two seconds to realize was her tongue.

He could not have stopped the small moan from escaping his throat if the alternative was death by leeches.

"Like that, do you?"

He could only gasp in answer. And he was sure he would have been blushing if all the blood in his body had not rushed elsewhere. Another pool of freezing cold, a little lower. Running down the right side of his chest. And again that damnable tongue smoothing it away. Sucking gently at his skin, even after the juice had been collected.

He shuddered, whimpering as she licked and vaguely kissed her way down to an already stiff, swollen nipple. "O-Oh God..."

He didn't need to open his eyes to know she was smirking. "You really want to continue this little game?"

He fought to control his breathing, to open his eyes and tear his gaze away from those soft, far too inviting breasts to meet her face. "No," he growled. "I want you to get this little game overwith and stop being such a fucking tease."

She laughed. That pretty, tinkling laugh. Followed by another slow, sensual lick and suck of the melting popsicle, pulling it from her mouth with a sound that bordered on obscene. "Can't take the heat? At your limit already?"

"Is this really just a game to you?" he growled, the thought tempering his lust with a feeling that bordered on hurt. "And me just a toy? Because if it is, then let me go back to my tent. I have more important things to do than entertain you."

She pursed her lips, pouting slightly. "What makes you think that's how I see you?"

"I don't know," he sniped. "How many other guys have you stripped topless for?"

Her eyes flared. And behind the indignation at what he was insinuating, he saw the same sting he was feeling. Along with a tiny sliver of something that might have even been shame. "Just you."

The thought made him feel both proud and humble, something he hadn't thought possible until this moment. "So why all this?" he asked. "Why the rope and the popsicle and the taunting?"

She smirked again, as if she knew some dark, horrible secret she couldn't wait to share. "You're saying you don't like it?"

He averted his eyes, feeling his cheeks redden.

"That's why I do it," she said, leaning close. "You enjoy it, much as you like to say otherwise. And I enjoy watching you."

His breath was starting to shallow again. She backed away, and as he watched in a mixture of fascination and horror, she slid her lips over the end of the popsicle, tipping her head back and slowly pushing it into her mouth, until her lips closed around the stick.

Those lips parted slightly, letting him see the wood caught gently between her teeth as she pulled it out with the same calculated slowness. It was bare, all the sweet, frozen treat gone. The pronounced swallow that followed made him harden painfully, letting out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in a tiny, tiny whimper.

She came back to him, tossing the stick aside. "Ready?"

He answered that grin with one of his own. "Bring it."

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June 2012


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