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service dom AANG has this terrible habit of robbing you of your movement during sex. it’s like the balance is tipped too extremely to one side, he’s trying to make you feel good, but he gets carried away in the moment trying to control it for you. you’re riding him, a position in which you have the power to take what you want, to decide the pace, to tell him what to do. instead, you’re reduced to a hot mess as he locks you in place with a hard grip on your waist, hands biting into the soft down of your flesh as he fucks up into you at breakneck impact. skin smacking skin so it stings, bucking up into your greedy hole as it eagerly swallows every inch of him. he curses to himself over how you’re clenching down on him, and he watches your pretty eyes roll back as he bullies that special spot inside you. you’re being used, you’re being handled, you’re being robbed of your power in this position - and you’re letting it happen. it feels too good to stop, you don’t want to be responsible for everything right now, you just wanna pretend to be a toy, that’s how close you are right now. what puts it all over the top, however, the glaring detail you can’t ignore, is this: aang has taken charge, is forcing you to take what he’s giving you, his focused eyes glue to where your bodies conjoin, his teeth grit hard, but he can’t stop grunting out a rushed, pathetically slurred, and whimpery, “fuckmefuckmefuckmefuckme!”
he never expected sexual acts to be so… animalistic, profound, and extremely filthy. missionary was all he knew—then, with your encouragement, he started leaning into different positions like doggy style and the mating press. but this one you were doing right now?
this was his favorite of all.
you with his cock deep inside your tight pussy, your walls warm and tight as you rode him sensually back and forth—taking every agonizing inch of him like the good girl you were.
your face was twisted with pleasure, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you rode him. it was too much, he was too big—aang knew that for a fact. but your little whimpers as you tried your best to take him all made his heart clench.
fuck. you were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on.
"don't stop, baby," aang rasped, his hands tightening on your hips. "fuck. mph.. just like that."
"aang…?" you whimpered, your hips faltering just slightly.
he paused. oh no. had he hurt you? did he grab your hips too tightly? was he stretching you out too much for you to handle?
"you're…" you swallowed hard, a finger coming up to wipe away a tear that he hadn't even realized had slipped down his cheek. "crying!"
crying? he couldn't believe it. he was the avatar, for fucks sake. and now he was reduced to a crying man, completely undone and helpless over his girlfriend's little pussy.
"sorry—it just… feels too good. you squeezin' me like that… can't help it, sweet girl," he choked out.
"are you hurt?" you asked softly.
"i'm not hurt," he promised, his thumbs rolling soothing circles against the warm skin of your hips to reassure you. "fuck, i'm the exact opposite of hurt. just keep going. please."
if you told your past self that you would get with the avatar, you’d laugh and call yourself crazy
because what do you mean the same bald tattooed kid who went around the world to ride on animals with that stupid grin on his face was now the same bald tattooed man who was pressing you into a mean breeding position and making you feel so so good
you lost track of the number of times you came, and aang lost track of the times he came in you— but let’s be for real, who’s counting?
“one more” he panted, lustful silver eyes as he pounded his cock deep in you with loud and lewd sounds bouncing all over the room. the position you were giving aang with your legs thrown on his shoulders was allowing him to hit areas you didn’t even know were possible, which was why he wanted you to come for him again— and why he wanted to come in you for the nth time
“please baby i— fuck” he whimpered, feeling your walls clench all over him with familiarity. it left aang no choice but to silence his own sounds by pressing his lips sloppily on yours, swallowing your sweet sounds as he continued to blabber
꩜𖦹༄ avatar aang who tries to talk you through it, but cums instead.
your boyfriend hovers over you, sweat dripping down his temple as he grits his teeth in pleasure. he watches the way his cock disappears in and out of your pussy, a creamy white ring decorating his base every time he pulls out.
"ohh, yess. that's it, sweetheart," he coos, veins and muscles popping as he props his arm up near your head. "just breath in and out. nice and slow. let me in baby."
aang can feel every flutter and squeeze your pussy gives him, and each sensation drives him more and more insane. in truth, he's only been inside you for at least... five minutes. but with how good you squeeze around him, he's like a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at any second.
one hand holds your thigh up and over your chest, pinning you down. he dips his head, nose nuzzling against yours. he adjusts his hips slightly, sinking even deeper and hitting that sweet and sensitive spot that drives you crazy.
"oh, spirits. aang!" you moan out.
"ssh, i know. i know. you're doing so well," he tries to reassure you, but he chokes on his words. the pleasure is too overbearing. "i'm gonna be pushing a little deeper, okay? just hold on to me. keeping breathing in and out. and look at me-"
when he instructs you to look at him, your eyes flutter open to meet his. your brows pinch together while your body endures an agonizing and pleasurable stretch around his length. at the sight of you—so utterly debauched, breathless, and perfect for him—he feels his balls draw up tight and his muscles tense.
"oh-no," aang chokes into a gasp, his hips spasming and his body pulling taut as he feels himself getting unbelievably close. "oh. gosh. wait! d-don't look at me like that. ah—i'm cumming! i'm so sorry, sweetie!"
hot, scalding ropes of thick cum shoots out of his tip and coats your sensitive walls. you gasp, back arching off the bed as he fills you up.
earlier that day, aang had promised you a long night of bliss where he'd help you take his cock and walk you through it. but instead, he lasted all of five minutes and... thirty two seconds.
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sokka likes to lie back and watch you stubbornly do all the work until you need it. arms folded behind his head, blue eyes mirthy but not cruel, lips tight with the smirk so familiar and teasing it makes your tummy do backflips. his gaze travels downwards, over your soft stomach and chest that bounces with every lewd lift and drop of your cunt down on the stretch of his girth. how you struggle to make it to the hilt every time. how he can see himself kick deep inside you.
“atta girl,” sokka purrs with pout, kind of mocking you and the manner in which your face twists with frustration because just riding him isn’t enough. “look at you go, just aching for it.” he doesn’t mind when you switch from bouncing to grinding, swirling c shapes in his lap like the rush of water around a river bend — in fact, he prefers it, because sokka knows it feels so much better for you. fuller like a glass with a never ending pour of luxurious liquor, your movements are slicker and your thighs shiner as they bracket his lap — spreading your streaming arousal across his pelvis and abs filthily.
if even for a second, you slow down to catch your breath where its rhythm hiccups, sokka lands a cheeky tap to the curve of your ass. not harsh, not painful, rather encouraging — like you would to get a pretty show pony moving when it turns sluggish. “c’mon sweetheart, don’t give up now,” he coos with the air of someone who knows what he’s doing, pulling you to pieces and being the only one who can put you back together. “are you tired? need my help?”
i think riding sokka only goes on for so long, he gets impatient. hungry. finding your wrists where your palms brace either side of your head and slotting your fingers with his. he doesn’t take over, just adds to the motion — being the wave beneath your boat as he bucks up into you, languid and leisurely. pushing his cock past the right, clenching muscle of your entrance every time you push down onto him. his moans turn open mouthed, needy and follow your cadence — higher when he brushes against your g-spot, lower when you squeeze him and milky white runs down to his balls, marrying the fabric below your tangled bodies. he moans and whines and hiccups when you do, as though your pleasure is connected in an endless feedback loop.
when he really gets impatient, sokka’s fingers land at the nape of your neck and drag you down onto him. nipples brushing, stomachs contracting against one another — he bends his legs at the knee for leverage, pumping into you with short, deep thrusts that help his blunt cockhead glide against your sensitive walls, marrying your cunt with his claim of slick pre. you’re almost always squirting in sokka’s lap because he never lets up on the pressure spots you need him to find most…
Boyfriend!Sokka is the epitome of a lover boy and is literally head over heels for you, having been that way since you met. He’d literally drink your bathwater. Follows you around like a lost puppy and drowns you in kisses at every opportunity. You truly have become the center of his universe, so much so that he's named his boat after you.
Boyfriend!Sokka never stops trying to wow you. He plans elaborate date nights regularly, and even gets everyone to help out to make it really special. Like that time he commissioned Katara to make an ice sculpture of the two of you. Sokka also spends his free time in the workshop constructing gifts in the form of gadgets that make your life easier. He's even tinkered with special inventions for after dark.
Boyfriend!Sokka is obsessed with your scent. To him, you always smell like flowers and fresh vanilla, and he can't help but bury his nose into you. The crook of your neck, the middle of your chest, and the inside of your thighs are the best places to nuzzle into. You smell so good, he can’t help but take a bite every now and then.
Boyfriend!Sokka is definitely a cuddler. His love language is physical touch, of course. Sokka holds you close at night, one arm anchoring your waist and chest pressed tight to your back. Every so often, his arm breaks away to allow his hands to caress your thighs. The higher his hands roam, the more your legs melt apart. He's always so smooth, working his way unnoticed until he presses his fingers between your puffy, slick lips.
Boyfriend!Sokka, his touches always start off so soft and sweet. Drawing delicate circles on you sensative clit. Slowly at first, before he begins to pick up steam, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp and your legs flinch apart. His free hand comes around to tweak your pert nipples over the thin material of your night gown. He's never surprised by how wet you get for him; he only wishes you'd spoken up sooner. “You weren’t gonna say anything?” He leans into the shell of your ear. “My shy girl.” He teases.
Boyfriend!Sokka lives to make you feel good. He relishes pulling moans from you with his experienced fingers. Even if your moans are hushed and strained, he adores them all the same. “Let go f’me baby, I wanna hear you.” He downright begs as his fingers circle your clit faster with a bit more pressure. Sokka loves it when you can’t hold back anymore, and your mouth falls open into a silent scream.
Boyfriend!Sokka loves to watch your face twist and contort as fucks into you. His hands grip your hips, while your legs are secured over his shoulders. The pretty anklet he made for you is dangling near his ear as he kisses the back of your womb with every weighted thrust. "Oh my God, Sokka, yes," you hiss as he bullies into you. His teeth clench when he feels your pussy cling to him tighter. "Fuck baby, you feel so good," He groans, losing his restraint as thrusts become sporadic. His hand is stroking your clit to bring you over the edge with him. Sokka loves it when you finish together.
Boyfriend!Sokka is the undespuited king of aftercare; he always makes sure to kiss and massage where he knows your grip was tight on your waist. He always gets a bit carried away with the massage, moving down your legs until he's working the knots out of your feet. Sokka pats himself on the back for having created a functioning towel warmer, so that he always has a fresh, clean towel to clean you up-- anything to make you feel pampered. It always ends with you curled up into his bare chest and kiss 'goodnight' on the forehead.
Author's Note: Yay, I've done it!!! I've proved to myself (and all of you) that I can write for more than MHA. Need a break from that anyway... But I hope all my Sokka lovers enjoy this little bit of something, it seems like my boy gets no love fr. Also, btw idk why yall be spamming Zuko under the Sokka tag (very weird), stop doing that. He's his own person and deserves his own thirst lol
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cocky stem student! sokka who doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut until you're stroking his cock and he's reduced to a stupid whimpering mess. || idea by @/tsukiboo <3, mdni 18+ content ahead, sokka n you are early twenties cuz i aint weird
ꫂ᭪݁ it was true, sometimes sokka just couldn't hold his tongue but god it was just too satisfying when you both would rival each other so perfectly. every comeback had its own reply, and that reply got its own snappy response.
he didn't want to admit his academic rival turned him on though, i mean, that's just losing!
but would it still count as losing when your warm hand would drag itself up and down his abnormally large cock that ached harshly for your touch specifically?
"oh come on, sokka... you should know this... what about if a watermelon falls with a weight of nine kg?"
"or is mister number two still busy trying his best not to thrust into my palm?" you grinned, you could see his scowl quickly turn into another embarrassing whimper.
"nngh, fuck- you already know the answer! that shit is so e- easy..." barely managing out when you flip the page of the book on the table. you keep your legs crossed while your body keeps facing him. your right hand stroking him while you traced the words of the book with your free hand.
"you said you wanted to review. answer it right or i'm gonna keep edging you like the loser you are." smiling sweetly in the poisonous air of your words made him feel hazy.
"you know you're so sexy when you do that shit to me? it's-" his breath hitches when you momentarily let your fist meet his base, "holy- fuuuck... it's eighty eight point two newtons... jeez.." letting out heavy breaths, you mark the question check on the questionnaire.
"aw, you finally admit you find me attractive?" - "when i'm in my grave yeah. i said sexy, not attractive."
was it weird you were helping your academic rival study by stroking him faster whenever he gets it correct? not really. with all your arguments it feels like it was bound to happen anyway.
you roll your eyes, "it's the same thing you idiot." his eyebrow raises, a smirk appears although his expression stutters for a moment. "then how about you show me the difference between stroking and riding? i think they're the same thing."
cw: cunnilingus, oral fixation, teasing, hair pulling, orgasms, intimacy, dirty talk mentioned, whining, freaked out Sokka, not proofread. requested.
ⓘ Featuring Sokka eats it like he'd die without you.
munch!sokka warms you up by planting hot kisses down your stomach & ghosting his breath over your panties before sucking hickeys on your inner thighs, slowly pulling your panties down.
munch!sokka always whispers how pretty you look while wrapping his arms comfortably around your thighs, blowing over your clit teasingly as he watches the flush cross your cheeks.
munch!sokka lets out a gasp whenever you get sick of his antics & pull his hair with a groan, he'll smirk for just a second before finally giving in & darting his tongue out for a taste.
munch!sokka can't pretend he isn't dying to eat you out after the first lick & pulls your thighs around his head as he gets to work, swirling his tongue expertly around your clit & proudly taking in all your pleas for him: to "Don't stop."
munch!sokka likes to watch your expression twist in pleasure with each roll of his buttery soft tongue, the eye contact doing absolutely nothing to help maintain your pleasure.
munch!sokka feels so proud of himself the first time he brings you to orgasm, pulling back for just a minute, you press a soft kiss to your thigh and praise how pretty you look when you're messy for him.
munch!sokka goes slower after you finish, almost lazily lapping his tongue over your clit, intertwining your fingers with his & strokes your hand slowly while listening to your soft moans.
munch!sokka loves the way your thighs tense around his head whenever you get close, the way your free hand scratches at his scalp, & of course, the whimpers of his name.
munch!sokka sits there, catching his breath after bringing you to a second orgasm, pulling back just enough to blink at your soaked cunt before teasing you for getting so wet for him.
munch!sokka ends up kissing up your abdomen slowly, leaving a trail of your wetness up your body before pressing a swift kiss to your lips & offering to help you wash up in the stream outside.
Friends with benefits, but make it with your close friend Sokka. . .
FWB!Sokka. . . who comforts you when you're down. Stroking your back in a soft motion. Telling you to let it all out, because he doesn't want to see you bottling all your feelings. Sokka, who makes the dumbest faces when his best friend suddenly cries at the dead of night, only the two of you awake by the fire, taking you shift as look-out while the others sleep.
FWB!Sokka. . . who fixes all your weapons and little toys, all to see that smile. Even though some inventions may leave an explosion of smoke on top of that pretty face of yours, the giggling fits you have along with the black soot on your cheeks, send him to another level of euphoria.
FWB!Sokka. . . who has your back through thick and thin. Maybe he only has the boomerang on his back, but so what? He’d fight off thieves with a wooden spoon if it meant to protect you—and possibly impress you as well…
FWB!Sokka. . . who quite obviously glares at Zuko every time you go along with the fire lord anywhere alone. And the later complains about how close he was to you while smooching your lips off. Hands scouring around your hips, searching for a grip as his tongue found solace against your own.
content.ᐟ 18+, stress-relief with your best friend! ꨄ︎; fwb!mark, porn no plot, handjob, orgasm denial, crying, begging . . .
MARK GRAYSON has been running on fumes lately.
between cecil breathing down his neck and the responsibility of having oliver around, he feels like he can't catch a break.
he's so wound up he feels like he might snap. which is exactly why he spends his rare moments of off time with his very best friend!
"shitshitshit!" the words break out of him in a high, desperate whimper. his head lolls back, eyes fluttering shut as your hands wrap around his length, jerking his flushed, aching dick with a merciless rhythm.
he looks gorgeous like this; hot tears running down his face from the sheer amount you've edged him, pink puffy kiss-swollen lips, and those big glossy puppy dog eyes you've always adored. can it get any better than this?
he's bucking into your hand, trying his best to listen to you telling him over and over again to stay still. "mark.." you coo at him, your hand slowing down a fraction, "stay still for me, okay?" he nods frantically at your request, but it's easier said than done :(
"m'sorry, i-" he's cut off by another whine as you speed up the strokes. his body jolts up and one of his hands grip the sheets next to him so hard his knuckles turn white, his other on your hip, not squeezing as tight because he knows he needs to control himself.
"please" he cries, "pleasepleaseplease lemme cum!" he looks up at you with big desperate eyes, "i'll be good, i'll be so good!" he promises. you can't count how many times he's said that in the past 10 minutes.
"yeah? you wanna cum, mark?" you tilt your head down at him with a patronizingly sweet smile, bringing your free hand up to move sweaty strands of his black hair away from his forehead tenderly.
he nods so fast you're afraid he'll get whiplash. he mumbles nonsense as you praise him and turn him to putty, though he doesn't realize it's nonsense in his fucked-out, dazed state.
once you finally give him the permission to cum, he's blabbering incoherent thank you's and arching his back off the bed as he pulses rhythmically and coats your hand in globs of warm sticky release.
viltrumites sure do cum a lot.
he's panting and recovering from his orgasm, falling into you and clutching the hem of your shirt. "thank you..." he mumbles,
"s'good.." you smile at his words, rubbing his back. and to no one's surprise, he's still somewhat hard.
i’m not sure if you talk requests but i may i ask for mark with a sensitive/crybaby lover? If you don’t take requests please do ignore this! I love your writing tho!!
hello anon! I'm not confident in doing requests, so no… requests are not open… but here is something for you 🤍 thank you so much for reading
mark grayson with a sensitive lover
cw. praise, crying, overstimulation, cuddling.
mark learns very quickly that you cry when it feels good.
not in a hurt way. never in a hurt way.
it’s always that pretty, overwhelmed kind of crying, where your lashes clump together and your lips part around soft little sounds you try so hard to keep quiet. you get embarrassed every time, turning your face into the pillow or covering your mouth like you can hide from him, like mark doesn’t know every sound you make by heart.
“baby,” he murmurs, voice low against your ear. “don’t hide from me.”
you whimper, fingers gripping at his shoulders. “i can’t help it.”
“i know.” his mouth brushes your cheek, catching the tear there with a kiss. “that’s why i like it.”
that makes you squeeze your eyes shut, your whole body going warm beneath him.
mark groans softly, dropping his forehead to yours. “there you go,” he whispers. “you’re so sensitive, huh?”
you nod before you can stop yourself, breath hitching when his hand slides down your side, slow and possessive, holding your hip like he’s grounding you. keeping you there with him. keeping you from floating too far into all that feeling.
“talk to me,” he says, kissing under your jaw. “too much?”
you shake your head quickly.
his thumb strokes your hip. “baby” he firmly says, dick pushing impossibly deeper when his hips ground into you.
“no,” you breathe. “not too much.”
“good girl.”
the praise hits you worse than anything else.
your eyes fill again, and mark sees it immediately. of course he does. he always does. his expression softens, even though his breathing is rough, even though his hair is messy and his cheeks are flushed and he looks like he’s barely holding himself together.
“oh, sweetheart,” he says, almost teasing. almost fond. “that’s all it takes?”
you cover your face with both hands, mortified. “mark…”
he laughs quietly, but there’s no cruelty in it. only warmth. only affection. he catches your wrists and pulls your hands away, pinning them gently beside your head.
“no, don’t do that.” his mouth finds yours, slow and deep. “let me see you.”
you melt beneath him, helpless to the way he kisses you like he has all the time in the world, like there isn’t a whole city outside that might need saving, like there isn’t anything more important than making sure you feel loved while he has you like this.
every slow roll of his hips makes your breath break.
every murmured “that’s it” makes your thighs tremble.
and mark, unfairly attentive mark, notices exactly what makes you gasp. exactly when your nails dig into his back. exactly when your body starts getting too tense, too overwhelmed, too close.
“you’re doing so well,” he whispers.
your lip trembles.
“mark, please.”
“i’ve got you.” he kisses your forehead, then your nose, then your mouth. “i’ve got you, baby. you can cry. i don’t mind.”
that breaks you a little.
the tears slip down your cheeks before you can stop them, and mark groans like the sight ruins him. his grip tightens just slightly, not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you that he’s there. solid. warm. yours.
“so pretty like this,” he murmurs. “all sweet for me.”
you make a sound that barely resembles his name, clinging to him as the pleasure builds too fast, too hot, too much. your body shakes, and mark slows just enough to keep you with him, his voice soft and steady in your ear.
“breathe for me.”
you try.
“that’s it. good girl.” his lips brush your temple. “you’re okay. i’m right here.”
you come with a sob caught in your throat, your face pressed into his neck, and mark holds you through all of it. he doesn’t stop talking. doesn’t stop kissing you. doesn’t stop telling you how good you are, how pretty you sound, how much he loves feeling you fall apart for him.
after, when you’re limp and warm and trying to hide again, he doesn’t let you get far.
he gathers you into his chest, one hand smoothing over your back while the other cradles the side of your face.
“hey,” he says softly. “look at me.”
you peek up at him, embarrassed and teary.
mark smiles like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen.
“you're so pretty, baby.”
you pout. “i cried again.”
“yeah,” he says, brushing his thumb beneath your eye. “you did.”
“that’s embarrassing.”
“no, it’s not.”
“you’re just saying that.”
“i’m really not.” he kisses you softly. “i like knowing you feel safe enough with me.”
your chest aches at that, tender and full.
mark tucks you under his chin, arms wrapping around you carefully, like he could crush mountains but would rather spend the rest of his life being gentle with you.
“besides,” he adds, voice dipping into something teasing, “you’re cute when you cry.”
you smack his chest weakly.
he laughs and catches your hand, kissing your knuckles.
“mean,” you mumble.
“crazy about you,” he corrects.
and because you’re sensitive, because you’re soft, because mark always knows exactly how to make your heart spill over—you cry a little again.
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And the thing is, when Mark is fucking you into the mattress, drool dripping from the corner of your slack mouth and your eyes rolled back into your head, all he's thinking about is how just a few minutes earlier you were trying to convince him to "let himself lose control."
"I'm not gonna break, Mark," you'd pouted, giving him those big, pleading eyes. He'd just smiled down at you and nodded, then kissed you and gave you what you thought you wanted.
He knows though, if he actually let go, let himself lose control, he'd kill you or at the very least leave you permanently injured. There's something sick about it that thrills him. The way you feel around his cock makes him want to give into the Viltrumite part of his brain that's telling him if you're worthy of his seed, you'll survive what it takes to get it. He's ashamed of it and will never let those thoughts see the light of day, but he can't ignore them. You begging for him makes it even more difficult to keep that grip on his self control.
It's easy to see how much you trust him when you're gushing around his dick as it rocks in and out of you, Mark's hands pressing bruises into your waist and teeth leaving angry red patches on your neck.
So yeah, he could break you with one thrust- even less than that.
Missing Your Touch || soft dom!Sokka x wife!reader
Warning: MDNI!, breeding kink, not that great at smut… you’ve been warned, pnv, underage = BLOCKED sorry not sorry!!!
Synopsis: Sokka took you serious for once and respected your decision to take things slowly after having so many kids. However…you miss his touch and regret saying anything.
Pt1 Hands To Yourself
It had been a few months since your whole “we have too many kids” talk, and Sokka had actually toned things down. Yes, you were still intimate—but not nearly as much as you’d like… how ironic.
You think you might’ve gotten used to Sokka always having the hots for you, because when he finally calmed down, you felt almost… ignored. Silly as it sounded, you almost regretted saying anything. Every time you saw him, you wanted to pounce. He always looked incredibly handsome especially when he slipped into that “dad” mode, or when he was working. Something in you ignited every single time he was near.
Especially now.
You were visiting him late at night in his work shed. Tools and random parts were scattered everywhere, his head buried in whatever he was building. But all you could focus on were his arms—buff, flexing under his sleeveless tunic.
He looked so damn good.
“Hey, baby. You busy?”
He set his tools down, pushing his goggles to hang around his neck.
“No, princess. Never for you, what’s the matter?” You let out a small huff as you walked toward him.
“I dunno… I just miss you, that’s all.”
He smiled, opening his arms, silently beckoning you to come closer. You did, wrapping your arms around his torso and resting your chin on his chest.
“Miss me for what?” he chuckled, glancing down at you. “I’ve been here all day.”
You shook your head, looking up at him with wide, soft eyes. “No, honey… I mean I missed you…”
Your voice came out more needy than you intended. It took Sokka a second but when it clicked, a grin spread across his face.
“Oh—OH, you mean— like— oh, okay, let me just finish here and—” You shoved him back against the table. His tools rattled from the impact.
“No more waiting. I need you now.”
Your hands slid to his waist, already working at his belt. You undid it in seconds, tugging his pants down just enough to feel him harden under your touch.
His breath hitched. “Baby… wa—wait, the door—”
“Shh. I locked it on the way in.”
You held his gaze as you dropped to your knees, pulling his pants and underwear down completely. He was fully hard now. Slowly, you leaned in, licking from the base to the tip, lingering there teasing, swirling, tasting. The faint saltiness made your lips tingle as you licked it away.
“Fuck… baby, I th—thought you said you wanted to ease up on the sex…”
You spat lightly on him, wrapping your hand around him and stroking slowly.
“I changed my mind. Is that a problem?” He shook his head immediately “Good.”
You gave him one last slow lick before taking him fully into your mouth, moving steadily, deeper each time.
“F-fuck, baby—” he whimpered, grabbing your hair, guiding you. Each push sent him further down your throat. A small gag slipped out, but you swallowed it down, breathing through your nose, eyes still locked on him.
The heat between your legs built fast, making you press your thighs together as a quiet moan vibrated against him.
His head fell back with a groan. One hand tightened in your hair, the other coming to your throat as his control slipped, hips starting to move on their own.
Tears pricked your eyes, spit trailing down your chin as your hands gripped his thighs. He was close you could feel it in the way his thrusts turned uneven.
His whimpers became louder "Oh shit—baby, I’m—f-fuck—”
A few more broken thrusts, and warmth flooded your throat. He kept moving through it, riding it out with rough, breathy sounds until he finally slowed. When he pulled back, you swallowed, wiping your chin with your sleeve.
“You did—wow… that was amazing.”
You stood, tugging some of your clothes off, letting them fall one by one.
“Sokka?”
He looked at you, those steel-blue eyes dark with need. “I want you to fuck me.” A faint blush spread across his cheeks.
“Whatever you say, baby.”
He spun you around and lifted you onto the edge of the table, wasting no time pulling your panties aside. He dragged himself along you first, making you shiver before slowly pushing inside.
“You’re so wet, baby.”
You whimpered, gripping his shoulders. The stretch felt so good— like you’d been missing it. He started slow, careful, controlled. But once he felt you relax, he picked up speed, hands gripping your hips tighter.
“Fuck, Sokka— yes, please f-faster.”
He listened, moving quicker, harder. Your gasp turned into a moan as he kissed you, messy and deep, swallowing every sound. The shed filled with the lewd sounds of both of you— breath, movement, everything.
He pulled away, a string of spit breaking between you before he buried his face in your neck, biting and kissing, finding that sensitive spot that made you lose it.
Your moans grew louder, more desperate, your walls tightening around him.
“You’re doing so well, baby… h-hold on just a little longer,” he murmured, thumb brushing your lips. His thrusts deepened as his hand slipped between you, circling your clit.
Your back arched, a broken whine leaving your throat. “M-more deeper—please.”
He obeyed, losing rhythm as he got closer. You were right there with him.
“Fuck, baby… I’m gonna fill you up… you want that? You want another baby?”
The way he moved, the pressure, the pace—it sent you over the edge.
“I’m cumming—f-fuck, Sokka please!” Your body tensed and released, gripping him tight as you came. He kept moving through it, chasing his own high until he finally stilled with a low groan.
Neither of you moved at first. Just heavy breathing in the quiet room. He slowly pulled out, eyes dropping between your legs with a lazy grin before pushing two fingers back in.
You jolted. “Shh… it’s okay.”
He leaned down, kissing you softly. “I knew you’d come back for more. You like it, don’t you? You like it when i fill you up?” you lazily nodded.
You whimpered against his lips, your body already missing him. Without thinking, you grabbed his hand, shoving his fingers into your mouth, sucking them clean.
That seemed to snap something in him. His ears flushed bright red. You glance down with a smirk and just like that, he was hard again.
“You’re not leaving until you’re filled with all of me.” He lifted you off the table, your legs wrapping around him as he carried you to the mattress pad in the corner, laying you down gently.
The rest of your clothes disappeared quickly, your bodies pressing together again as he lined himself up again.
He paused just long enough to kiss you softly. “I love you so much, baby.”
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