AN: Cracky, fluffy, probably OOC, and the fucks I give are nowhere to be found. Enjoy.
If there's one wonderfully rewarding thing about sleeping in the Beifong mansion, it is that there is a large, feathered mattress beneath him and sleep seems to come much easier here than back on Air Temple Island.
Sleep dances before his eyes, beckoning him with promises of sweet dreams and a restful night. And just as he reaches it, he feels something soft, warm, and deliciously round press itself against his groin.
He cracks one eye open to face Lin's curved back and long, black tresses tangled on her pillow. Glancing down, he sees his girlfriend's backside pressed against his lower body. Then, as if that weren't enough, he sees it move insistently.
"Lin."
She doesn't say a word but at least she stops.
"I know you're awake."
"I'm not."
He purses his lips in annoyance. The beat of silence is enough to give Lin the idea to move again, pressing harder. His lower half is traitorous and obviously the stupider part of him, and it rises to attention with very little coaxing.
"Will you stop that?"
"I'm the victim here," she sighs. "I was just about to fall asleep when I felt something."
Tenzin has the decency to blush and pull back, nearly groaning at the loss of contact. Stupid body, he chides silently. Out loud, he tells Lin, "I can't control that."
She turns around to face him, pale green eyes gleaming in the darkness. The moon filters through the blinds, painting her in slits of glowing light, and he decides that too-beautiful women are dangerous and should be illegal. Not that he minds. He really doesn't. He goes to bed every night thinking about just lucky he is to have Lin by his side, to have such a wonderfully amazing woman putting up with him.
Her lips turn down in a pout, full and inviting.
He takes everything back. He hates her.
One hand lifts to graze his arm, fingernails scratching against his muscle, blindly following the path of his tattoos. She has memorized every inch of his body. He's seen her trace the blue ink with her tongue while wearing a blindfold.
"I can help you," she whispers. Her voice is not suggestive; in fact, she looks almost bored, eyes half-lidded, face blank. As if this were a chore. As if she, Lin Beifong, were merely doing something for his sake and not at all for her own instant gratification.
But he knows her game. So he shakes his head. "I'm fine."
Her hand dips down and flutters over the growing part of him. He scowls at her when a smirks plays on her lips. "Are you sure?"
He uses one hand to stay her movements. Of course, feeling her skin under his palm does the exact opposite of what he wants, and he closes his eyes against the sensation. Fooling around with Lin always makes him feel like he has a fever, like he's dreadfully sick, because he's hot and bothered and it is almost impossible to think clearly when he can feel the heat radiating from Lin's body.
"You know," she begins, annoyance creeping into her voice, "I feel as if our roles are reversed. Most women try to get their boyfriend's pants to stay on. I have to struggle to get your pants off." And then, because she's a little pissed off and a little irritated at being rejected, she rolls over and makes sure to keep their hips from aligning.
He's not actually angry with her. It's just that he likes sleeping beside her, feeling her body fit his so perfectly, as if they had been made for each other, as if the universe had planned their meeting from their creation. There's something about waking up to her in the morning, watching her hide her mouth behind a large hand when he leans in for a kiss, seeing her stretch before she pads off to the kitchen to make him tea. Of course, it's nice to wake up in the morning with their limbs entangled, her hair matted, lips bruised, questionable marks littering the surface of her porcelain skin. But sometimes he wants to keep it simple.
He struggles from chuckling under his breath. Reaching over, he wraps an arm around her waist, dragging her flush against him, before letting his hand wander downwards. She is hot and pulsing, stiffening in his grip.
"I can't sleep now," he argues, his breath tickling the hair around her ear. He can't see it, but he can practically hear her eyes roll in annoyance.
"Not my problem."
He presses against her. A soft gasp fills the air. His hand dips under her nightgown and that's all it takes before she rolls over, throws one leg over his hips, and sits on his crotch.
It's rather difficult to get Lin's underwear off from this position but he manages somehow. Quickly, her nightgown is thrown haphazardly in some dark corner of the room and she pulls his sleeping tunic over his head and throws it over the bed. He's always made it a point to try to get Lin to unravel beneath his careful ministrations but she shakes her head and insists that she needs him, right now. When he's sheathed inside her welcoming, blazing heat, he has to remind himself not to be loud.
After only a few minutes, he feels her tighten around him. She throws her head back in silent awe while he thrusts a couple of times before he, too, goes off the handle. She settles on his chest, fingers tracing the markings along his arms. Sighing contentedly, she smirks against his skin.
"That was nice," she whispers. He trembles at the low timbre of her voice, every hair on his body standing on end.
"You are such a challenge," he accuses half-heartedly. If he closes his eyes, he knows he'll fall asleep without hesitation—
Her eyes are mischievous when they meet his, and belatedly he feels a hand travel downwards to hold him. "Are you up for it?"
AN: And yes I'm aware I add a new Linzin story every few days. I have thirty-three half-written stories littering my stupid docs folder.
This is the first time I've ever published something remotely "~~~~sexual~~~~" so don't be harsh. Or abrasive. Because if you are, I will never upload anything again and I will watch everyone suffer from their unsatisfied Linzin feels.
I'm kidding I can't do that I'm not heartless.
Also: Look, actually fluffy, happy fic with no ambiguous ending.