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lysapadinTitle: Some Strange Inversion
Characters/Pairings: Sokka/Suki
Summary: Suki gets the best ideas sometimes.
Notes: For Porn Battle X, prompt "Avatar: The Last Airbender, Sokka/Suki, crossdressing." Smut and crossdressing. 1334 words.
~~~~~~~~~~
Some Strange Inversion
So it's not a secret that Sokka will do pretty much whatever Suki asks, whether it's within reason or not. He's easy-going like that, and she generally makes it worth his while.
Even so, he surveys the bundle of clothes she's holding and can't quite stop himself from saying, "What, really?"
But Suki just looks at him, face bare and eyes hopeful. "For me?"
And what's a man supposed to do in the face of that, say no? Of course not.
So Sokka takes the bundle of green robes out of her arms and ducks behind the folding screen to peel out of his clothes, throwing the tunic and leggings over the screen and shaking out the full skirts of the Kyoshi uniform. "So what is this, some kind of special training?"
If it is training, then Suki forgot the protective gear that went over the robes.
"You'll see." And then Suki whisks his clothes off the screen, like she wants to make sure he has no choice—dress up in green robes or go naked.
Not that going naked in their own rooms would be such a bad thing. But—later, perhaps, after he's figured out what she wants him all dressed up for.
Sokka's had plenty of practice in undoing Suki's robes and in watching her put them on again; even so, it takes a little while to figure out how to pull on the layers himself, wrapping silk over silk and letting the full skirts fall around his legs. It feels strange, certainly not what he's used to. He'd wonder how anyone could fight with those skirts to tangle around their legs, if he hadn't seen just how effective Suki and her comrades could be and had done it himself, once, when he'd had no other choice. "Do I need to do my face?" he asks when he's twitched the last layer into place.
"No, I don't think that's really necessary."
He's behind the screen; Sokka permits himself a sigh of relief before coming around the screen. "Okay, so what gi—erk."
Suki's leaning against the wall, arms folded under her breasts, and she's wearing his clothes. Well, sort of—she's got his tunic on, anyway, and it fits against her curves like a second skin, looking better on her than Sokka suspects it has ever looked on him. She's got her hair pulled back, too, in a wolf-tail, and she's smirking at him.
Sokka finds that his mouth is hanging open. "Not fair," he manages. Suki arches one perfect eyebrow at him, and he raises a finger. "You're not wearing the whole outfit." Which is very true; the panels of his tunic fall between her legs, highlighting the bare curve of her hips.
Suki just smiles and prowls away from the wall. "It would have gotten in my way."
That seems to call for some kind of witty remark, but Sokka is fresh out of wit as he watches Suki stalk across the floor, bare feet silent against the mat and cloth swaying with her hips. Then Suki closes her hands on his shoulders and presses her mouth against his, and the time for talking is past them.
That's just as well. Sokka settles his hands on her hips, fingers finding the skin under cloth and stroking over it as her mouth opens to his, and this he can do even if his thinking has gone stupid slow with lust.
Suki makes a pleased sound against his mouth, pressing against him as he curves his hands over her rear, feeling the cloth draping over his knuckles as he palms silky skin and tight muscle. There's something about the fact that he can touch her like this, even though she's technically clothed, that makes heat knot low in his stomach as Suki presses against him.
The full skirts he's wearing want to tangle around his legs; that and the fact that he can't really think about anything but Suki's mouth against his and heaviness of his cock conspire against him by the time Suki gets him backed up as far as the bed. All it takes is her ankle hooking around his to send him over backwards.
Suki's a warrior just like he is, has trained for it from childhood. She takes the opening as soon as it's there, pouncing him and kneeling astride his hips, hands spread against his chest to hold him down as she claims his mouth again. Not that Sokka's objecting to that at all, really. He's just as happy to sprawl on his back and let his hands stroke over the long muscles of her thighs, tense beneath his palms, and slide his fingers up between her legs, stroking against the softness of her. She gasps and arches over him and the cloth of his tunic stretches taut across her breasts, not really cut for the fullness of them. Sokka can't quite tear his eyes away from the shape of them as they move under blue cloth. They rise and fall with the way Suki is panting now as he slides his fingers into her, stroking them deep, the way she likes it best, until she makes a sharp sound, shaking over him as her body throbs around his fingers.
She closes her eyes as she catches her breath. There are wisps of hair falling around her face, damp with sweat, and it strikes Sokka breathless when she opens her eyes again and smiles at him.
He says her name, soft, and curves a hand around her nape as she leans down to kiss him again, playing with the hair that is falling away from its tie. Then Suki pulls away from him, and laughs at the sound he makes. "Wait," she tells him, and leans down.
Her hands are just as rough as his are, calloused from the hours of practice. They drag up his legs, pushing heavy silk ahead of them, and Sokka can hear the sound he makes as he gets it, maybe just a little bit shocked by the way Suki rucks up the skirts he's wearing, pushing them up over his hips.
Somehow, when he'd thought about how these skirts work, he'd always pictured himself doing this to Suki.
Not that he's complaining; far from it, especially with the way Suki is smiling down at him as she kneels over his hips again. "You cheated too," she tells him as her hands curl around him.
"You didn't give me anything to wear under them," he says, or tries to. It comes out kind of garbled, what with the way her fingers are dancing over him, sending pleasure climbing his spine. In any case, Suki just laughs and settles over him, sliding down on him and gasping.
Sokka gasps, too, shuddering with the heat of her and the way she begins to move over him, rocking herself against him. The sound of her moans are soft and bright, winding around him like silk as he begins to move with her, curving his hands around her hips and driving them up to meet her. He groans, shuddering as his hips roll against Suki's, grinding against her. Suki groans too, head tipping back, and again as Sokka runs a hand up her thigh, slipping it under the edge of the tunic to stroke his thumb against her until she comes undone again, this time with her hands fisted in green silk as she shakes.
They must make a sight, some strange inversion of their normal selves; that thought is all it really takes to send Sokka over the edge. He bucks under her as pleasure sweeps down on him, closing over his head and washing through him in long waves.
"Wow," he manages when he can finally think again and Suki is a warm weight sprawled over him. "That was... wow." Suki hums something in reply, something satisfied and wordless, and lets him snuggle her closer.
They've got to do this again some time.
end
Comments are lovely! Comment here at Dreamwidth using OpenID, or at LiveJournal.
Characters/Pairings: Sokka/Suki
Summary: Suki gets the best ideas sometimes.
Notes: For Porn Battle X, prompt "Avatar: The Last Airbender, Sokka/Suki, crossdressing." Smut and crossdressing. 1334 words.
Some Strange Inversion
So it's not a secret that Sokka will do pretty much whatever Suki asks, whether it's within reason or not. He's easy-going like that, and she generally makes it worth his while.
Even so, he surveys the bundle of clothes she's holding and can't quite stop himself from saying, "What, really?"
But Suki just looks at him, face bare and eyes hopeful. "For me?"
And what's a man supposed to do in the face of that, say no? Of course not.
So Sokka takes the bundle of green robes out of her arms and ducks behind the folding screen to peel out of his clothes, throwing the tunic and leggings over the screen and shaking out the full skirts of the Kyoshi uniform. "So what is this, some kind of special training?"
If it is training, then Suki forgot the protective gear that went over the robes.
"You'll see." And then Suki whisks his clothes off the screen, like she wants to make sure he has no choice—dress up in green robes or go naked.
Not that going naked in their own rooms would be such a bad thing. But—later, perhaps, after he's figured out what she wants him all dressed up for.
Sokka's had plenty of practice in undoing Suki's robes and in watching her put them on again; even so, it takes a little while to figure out how to pull on the layers himself, wrapping silk over silk and letting the full skirts fall around his legs. It feels strange, certainly not what he's used to. He'd wonder how anyone could fight with those skirts to tangle around their legs, if he hadn't seen just how effective Suki and her comrades could be and had done it himself, once, when he'd had no other choice. "Do I need to do my face?" he asks when he's twitched the last layer into place.
"No, I don't think that's really necessary."
He's behind the screen; Sokka permits himself a sigh of relief before coming around the screen. "Okay, so what gi—erk."
Suki's leaning against the wall, arms folded under her breasts, and she's wearing his clothes. Well, sort of—she's got his tunic on, anyway, and it fits against her curves like a second skin, looking better on her than Sokka suspects it has ever looked on him. She's got her hair pulled back, too, in a wolf-tail, and she's smirking at him.
Sokka finds that his mouth is hanging open. "Not fair," he manages. Suki arches one perfect eyebrow at him, and he raises a finger. "You're not wearing the whole outfit." Which is very true; the panels of his tunic fall between her legs, highlighting the bare curve of her hips.
Suki just smiles and prowls away from the wall. "It would have gotten in my way."
That seems to call for some kind of witty remark, but Sokka is fresh out of wit as he watches Suki stalk across the floor, bare feet silent against the mat and cloth swaying with her hips. Then Suki closes her hands on his shoulders and presses her mouth against his, and the time for talking is past them.
That's just as well. Sokka settles his hands on her hips, fingers finding the skin under cloth and stroking over it as her mouth opens to his, and this he can do even if his thinking has gone stupid slow with lust.
Suki makes a pleased sound against his mouth, pressing against him as he curves his hands over her rear, feeling the cloth draping over his knuckles as he palms silky skin and tight muscle. There's something about the fact that he can touch her like this, even though she's technically clothed, that makes heat knot low in his stomach as Suki presses against him.
The full skirts he's wearing want to tangle around his legs; that and the fact that he can't really think about anything but Suki's mouth against his and heaviness of his cock conspire against him by the time Suki gets him backed up as far as the bed. All it takes is her ankle hooking around his to send him over backwards.
Suki's a warrior just like he is, has trained for it from childhood. She takes the opening as soon as it's there, pouncing him and kneeling astride his hips, hands spread against his chest to hold him down as she claims his mouth again. Not that Sokka's objecting to that at all, really. He's just as happy to sprawl on his back and let his hands stroke over the long muscles of her thighs, tense beneath his palms, and slide his fingers up between her legs, stroking against the softness of her. She gasps and arches over him and the cloth of his tunic stretches taut across her breasts, not really cut for the fullness of them. Sokka can't quite tear his eyes away from the shape of them as they move under blue cloth. They rise and fall with the way Suki is panting now as he slides his fingers into her, stroking them deep, the way she likes it best, until she makes a sharp sound, shaking over him as her body throbs around his fingers.
She closes her eyes as she catches her breath. There are wisps of hair falling around her face, damp with sweat, and it strikes Sokka breathless when she opens her eyes again and smiles at him.
He says her name, soft, and curves a hand around her nape as she leans down to kiss him again, playing with the hair that is falling away from its tie. Then Suki pulls away from him, and laughs at the sound he makes. "Wait," she tells him, and leans down.
Her hands are just as rough as his are, calloused from the hours of practice. They drag up his legs, pushing heavy silk ahead of them, and Sokka can hear the sound he makes as he gets it, maybe just a little bit shocked by the way Suki rucks up the skirts he's wearing, pushing them up over his hips.
Somehow, when he'd thought about how these skirts work, he'd always pictured himself doing this to Suki.
Not that he's complaining; far from it, especially with the way Suki is smiling down at him as she kneels over his hips again. "You cheated too," she tells him as her hands curl around him.
"You didn't give me anything to wear under them," he says, or tries to. It comes out kind of garbled, what with the way her fingers are dancing over him, sending pleasure climbing his spine. In any case, Suki just laughs and settles over him, sliding down on him and gasping.
Sokka gasps, too, shuddering with the heat of her and the way she begins to move over him, rocking herself against him. The sound of her moans are soft and bright, winding around him like silk as he begins to move with her, curving his hands around her hips and driving them up to meet her. He groans, shuddering as his hips roll against Suki's, grinding against her. Suki groans too, head tipping back, and again as Sokka runs a hand up her thigh, slipping it under the edge of the tunic to stroke his thumb against her until she comes undone again, this time with her hands fisted in green silk as she shakes.
They must make a sight, some strange inversion of their normal selves; that thought is all it really takes to send Sokka over the edge. He bucks under her as pleasure sweeps down on him, closing over his head and washing through him in long waves.
"Wow," he manages when he can finally think again and Suki is a warm weight sprawled over him. "That was... wow." Suki hums something in reply, something satisfied and wordless, and lets him snuggle her closer.
They've got to do this again some time.
end
Comments are lovely! Comment here at Dreamwidth using OpenID, or at LiveJournal.
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