( scandalizing immediately achieved. a pale flush reaches from cheek to cheek on korra, who looks bewildered for all of a second, before an obnoxious laugh cracks between them like an exploding firework, head ducking down to rest on asami's chest. they do love mako, but they also love poking fun at him - it's kind of a result of both your ex girlfriends dating and falling in love with each other. look.
korra's been well on the receiving end of femme domme asami many times before. she'd be a hypocrite if she judged mako for liking it. )
Oh, yes, Ms. Sato. ( correction - ) Mrs. Sato.
( not that they're married yet, but the promise is almost good enough. korra's hands slip out of her blouse, only so far to tend to the buttons holding it together, plucking them eagerly off, one at a time. at the spread of cloth and unveiling of pale, perfect skin, korra softly lays her darker hand in the stretch of space between two breasts, the tip of her middle finger just brushing the gem of the engagement necklace. it's in direct contrast to the pure snow of her flesh - amazing, that for all fire nation asami is, she's so clearly the moon's twin, reflections of water sitting in the ample curves of her body.
that's how they are though, equal parts themselves and each other. the engagement stone is purple, the lovechild of blue and red passion.)
( asami leans back, bracing her hands against korra's thighs as she undoes the buttons of her blouse, each one separating from the taut fabric with a little pop. korra's hand is warm against her skin except for the ring, which is a chilled contrast to the heat of her. asami curls into her like a leaf curls inward in a fire, both her hands slipping to cover korra's one. )
Oh, I think we can call me Mrs. Avatar. Don't you?
( it's teasingly said. asami leans in to rub her nose playfully against korra's, and then to kiss her cheeks, her brow. her other hand slips down between them, fingers pressed up against korra through the fabric of her pants. it's nothing more insistent than a trailing stroke against her clit, slow and easy. )
I know you had this lovely evening planned for us, Korra, but... do you want to go back inside?
( it isn't that she's against the exhibitionism, it's simply that although she will roll around in dirt and grease for hours and never complain, one whisper of twigs in her hair is enough to be an instant and immediate turn-off. sorry, korra. picnic blankets in the middle of the garden may not be the place for love-making. )
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korra's been well on the receiving end of femme domme asami many times before. she'd be a hypocrite if she judged mako for liking it. )
Oh, yes, Ms. Sato. ( correction - ) Mrs. Sato.
( not that they're married yet, but the promise is almost good enough. korra's hands slip out of her blouse, only so far to tend to the buttons holding it together, plucking them eagerly off, one at a time. at the spread of cloth and unveiling of pale, perfect skin, korra softly lays her darker hand in the stretch of space between two breasts, the tip of her middle finger just brushing the gem of the engagement necklace. it's in direct contrast to the pure snow of her flesh - amazing, that for all fire nation asami is, she's so clearly the moon's twin, reflections of water sitting in the ample curves of her body.
that's how they are though, equal parts themselves and each other. the engagement stone is purple, the lovechild of blue and red passion.)
no subject
Oh, I think we can call me Mrs. Avatar. Don't you?
( it's teasingly said. asami leans in to rub her nose playfully against korra's, and then to kiss her cheeks, her brow. her other hand slips down between them, fingers pressed up against korra through the fabric of her pants. it's nothing more insistent than a trailing stroke against her clit, slow and easy. )
I know you had this lovely evening planned for us, Korra, but... do you want to go back inside?
( it isn't that she's against the exhibitionism, it's simply that although she will roll around in dirt and grease for hours and never complain, one whisper of twigs in her hair is enough to be an instant and immediate turn-off. sorry, korra. picnic blankets in the middle of the garden may not be the place for love-making. )