a midnight marathon, a prompted drabble compilation
warning: use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes
Katara is going to go completely raving mad. She doesn't remember why she has agreed to this in the first place as she lays on her back, stripped completely naked, while the too smug firebender sits gently on her thighs, his feet shifting the majority of his weight away. He is just a firm, solid presence against her legs.
"Zuko, please," she begs as he traces a pattern across her collarbone with his fingers. His hands roam down her breasts, paying minute attention to rake across her nipples, and then his fingernails are drawing across her stomach. Her body is trembling and she wants to reach to him, pull him close and kiss him, but he's made the rules very clear. Her hands go up and nearly swat at his face.
He leans back with a smirk. "No touching," he says, and goes back to work. His hands feel warmer than they should as he slides back across her legs to better caress her thighs. His rough palms brush her thighs over and over, his fingers slipping in between her legs and not touching her. She fidgets—a mistake as his knuckles brush the seeping wet sensation between her legs.
The loud moan of desire and frustration that she lets out only seems to make him more eager to drag this out for as long as he can. He sits up, crawling towards her on his knees and kisses her lightly. On her forehead, on her nose, in the corners of her lips. He kisses down the side of her jaw and dips his tongue into her collarbone. He kisses between her breasts and down her stomach and then shifts back so he can kiss her thighs.
And then he's sticking his tongue out petulantly, like a teasing child, and he is teasing her because he is so close to where she wants him to be. But of course, he sits there, nipping at her thighs and blatantly refusing to touch her. She growls his name out and is pleased to see him shiver, but he only smirks and leans in to kiss her.
It starts off as a normal, gentle kiss. But it deepens quickly and his tongue is probing her mouth, wet and warm. This is practice, Katara thinks, for what he'll do when he stops withholding what she knows he wants to do. He flicks his tongue lazily in her mouth and she groans gently, fisting her hands in the sheets. There is no way she can go on with not touching him, but there is no way in hell that she'll touch him—because then he'll stop. His hands cup her face gently and then he leans back suddenly, grinning at the breathless look on her face as it quickly morphs into frustration.
When Zuko finally relents—letting his tongue go to work between her legs, his fingers pumping in and out of her steadily, and rubbing his thumb against her slick opening—Katara is relieved.
notes: yeah, that's right. i'm doing smut for the entire 31 days of zutara month. jesus, help me.