Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Makorra
Korra had gone shopping recently.
In the times she had stayed over at his and Bolin's place and had gone from sleeping on the couch to in his bed to ending up naked in his bed, he had gotten her down to underwear and bare skin enough times to know what she liked to wear under her clothes. It wasn't that he was into details, but he was almost too aware of the fact that her bottoms didn't seem to match with her personality entirely well: soft cotton panties in pastel colors he'd become an expert in recognizing, but would never admit to or say out loud, like sherbert...and rose. He could've sworn at least one pair, maybe the rose-colored one, had a tiny bow on them.
However, he had never seen what she was wearing right now ever: it was a lingerie set, black, something you went to buy at the stores in the shopping district. The bra had bits of lace at the top, but the bottoms she wore. They weren't as simple as the ones she usually showed him—they were skin-tight, like they were painted on and the only way he'd get them off is if he could peel them off of her. Like a present.
His eyes followed her as she walked towards him, her breasts bouncing a little in the bra cups, and turned around, modeling for him. There was more to the bottoms, some sort of rippling design that went across her waist and the curve of her ass. Her entire body looked amazing, toned and muscled. She smelled like her, a mix of the soap, shampoo, and lotion she used.
Her clear blue eyes were staring at his expression, trying to figure out why he wasn't saying anything. "Do you like them?"
He swallowed and looked up, trailing his gaze from her flat stomach to her face. "...Yeah."
"Really?" The streetlights from outside made it easy for him to see her eyes light up.
His hand reached out for hers, and pulled her closer until one of her legs made their way between his and her knee rested on the bed beside his leg. The other made its way down the curve of her spine and slid down her skin until he reached the dimples at the small of her back. His finger hooked under the waistband, ready to take them down in one swipe.
In the morning, he would think about what the night they would spend meant: that the change in their relationship, when late-night Equalist riots or Probending training sessions and practices kept her away from the island and in his bed for the night were no longer things that kept happening "by accident" when it was dark and Bolin's snoring could be heard through the wall.
He would think about the fact that they had skipped another series of steps again, and how he was aware that dating came before excuses to have sleepovers and sex. He would think about the story his dad had told him about how his parents had met: their meeting through friends; the first time he had asked her out, appearing in front of her door with roses; the moment he knew that she had been right for him and he had asked her father for permission to marry her; and the fact that in the end, he himself had come into the world and then Bolin had come after. In the morning, he would think about how, in spite of the fact he cared about her and had wanted to do things right, he had shirked his responsibility to make sure that he had done the same.
He'd think about how he had somehow forgotten to make it clear what he and Korra were; that he didn't just like the moments in the dark when she was underneath him, wet and flexible and sighing, but the moments when it was light out as well and she was laughing or practicing and safe beside him or fighting with him. That maybe the reason why Korra had pretty much seduced him was because she was ready to be serious, but maybe didn't think that she could just say that for whatever reason: because he wasn't ready; because he didn't know; because he seemed too comfortable with how things were.
"Yeah."
He'd think about the ways to make it right in the morning, when she left to catch the first ferry, getting on the boat and acting as if nothing had happened and hoping that Tenzin wouldn't bite her head off or notice her sudden unwillingness to swim in the bay to get home.
But for now, in the dead of night, he began to slide those black panties off of her.
Korra pushed him back unto the bed and began to climb on top of him, coming at him like a tidal wave as he crawled backwards until his back touched the wall behind his bed. She practically crawled into his lap and her lips pressed on his, sucking and pulling on his bottom lip; her hand found its way underneath his shirt, sliding over his stomach.
He felt the blood in his body pool below his waist. This whole thing was different: he was used to her saying when she wanted it and then letting him lead, not her starting things.
Her lips traveled their way down his jaw and neck, across the skin and over his Adam's Apple before pulling back. Her eyes had darkened slightly and she began to pull up his shirt, lifting it over his head and throwing it...somewhere. He thought her bra would follow, but she was back to kissing him again.
His hands kept trying to open the back of her bra with no success; she kept pushing them away. "Korra...Korra..." He began to say forcefully when his hands were moved away from her clasp for the fifth or sixth time. He stopped when she pulled away and undid it herself. He didn't waste any time as she let him—because that was she was doing, letting him—pull the fabric down her slender shoulders and toss it wherever his shirt had gone.
She brought herself close to kiss him again, her tongue sliding in his mouth. Her nipples were hard against his chest.
He inhaled sharply when he felt her hands trail down his stomach again and slip into his pants. They played with the band as they made their way to his hips and began to inch them down. His hips lifted high enough for her to take them and his boxers off.
She smiled at the sight of his naked body, his length fully erect, his pre-cum beading and leaking out and dripping down; she now knew how hard she had made him. He was about to complain again until she began to rub her hand against him to make him slick two, maybe three, times before stopping.
It wasn't that he didn't want her to be dominant; he just couldn't be patient.
His hands made their way to her waist again, ready to do what he had been trying to do since this started, to have her as naked as he was.
His hands were pushed away, clasped and placed above his head. "Korra...let me—"
"No." She straddled his lap again and began rubbing against him, her eyes slipping closed.
He hissed, feeling it, feeling her and enjoying what she was doing. "Korra—" He bit through the urge to moan.
"No."
He could only watch through half-lidded eyes and hold back as she continued rocking her hips against him. She was wet; he could feel it through the material. Her back arched and she placed her hands on his shoulders to keep from falling back too far. The hair in her loopies was sticking to her skin. Her moans were breathy.
He just about lost it when she pulled herself up and she stared at him with half-lidded eyes and fanned eyelids and full, parted lips, not stopping what she was doing. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingertips running across his scalp.
He switched their positions, putting her on her back and hovering over her. Her chest was heaving, her breasts shaking lightly. His hand made their way to her hips, where the waistband was. He had been right earlier; one tug had them practically crinkling in his hand, off and thrown to whenever the fuck they landed. His right hand grasped her hips, moved to keep her from pushing him away.
His free hand brushed her hair away from her face, trailed down her cheek, lips, neck, and chest. He touched her breast, rubbing his thumb against her nipple until her back arched and he moved to the other one. He kissed her stomach, licked around her belly button and made his way to between her legs, his fingers combing her triangle of hairs.
He licked against her lips and then lapped at the wetness that met his tongue. She had had a papaya earlier and he could taste it now. His fingers opened her, and he inhaled her smell. His tongue licked her clit and made its way inside and he hooked his arms around her thighs to keep her still. He felt her pull at his hair, but he wasn't sure if that was to keep him there or to push him away.
So he kept tasting her.
"Mako...Mako, your tongue...it's too hot." Korra told him maybe the fourth time they had ended up in between the sheets that his body temperature went up when the two of them had sex, but she usually didn't stop him when he was down there.
Of course, he wasn't as aggressive as he was being right now.
He pulled away. "Sorry." He climbed and hovered over her again. He shifted his weight on one arm to free the other long enough to brush away her hair. "You okay?"
"Yeah."
"I'm sorry."
She smiled.
He gave her a few moments before heading towards the edge of the bed and positioning himself between her legs. Spirits, he wanted her. "You ready?"
"Yeah."
He got himself ready, pressing himself against her. His warmth met hers, slick and hot, and he slipped into her fully, not taking the time to inch inside.
They moaned and she adjusted to him and his hips moved. Four full strokes and her hands were already reaching up towards him. Her fingers dug into his back, giving him marks he'd have to hide because she'd be out of the arena before he could ask her to heal them. Her breathing hit his chest and her sighs reached his ears, speeding up as he moved faster. And then all of a sudden, her hands were pushing him away. "Mako...Mako...you're still too hot."
He pulled out and he twitched at the loss of her tightness around him. "Sorry!" And he was sorry, but unhappy that he wasn't inside her.
"It's okay..." She pulled herself up to stare at him and her hand moved between her legs to open herself up. She smiled at him, the cocky smile she flashed in the day now her seductive grin in the night. "Come back."
He did. He took a few deep breaths and walked back to her, slipping his fingers inside her to get her ready again. She hadn't stopped being wet; his fingers were coated.
He moved his fngers and repositioned himself again, rubbed against her again, ready to get back inside her.
And then found himself flipped and slammed on his back.
His eyes narrowed at Korra straddling him, her naked body above him and an impish smile on her lips. "Did you fake me being hot to do that?"
"Kinda...Your tongue was really hot the first time, but you weren't as hot the second time around...I just want to be on top."
"Why?"
"...This is the sixth time we're doing this...I guess I just want to give you something to think about in the morning."
"What? Korra—"
He cut himself off as he felt himself being guided back inside her. He was melting.
Her hips moved up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down and her eyes slid close. There was nothing he could do except watch her bounce on him, grab her hips, and meet her. Her breast bounced with every move and his eyes watched them do so. She was moaning at the friction he was making inside her, tightening around him, slapping against him. There were sounds of skin on skin and breathing and springs creaking, and they were getting faster and faster.
She came with a tapering moan and he didn't do a thing to quiet her, just kept pumping in and out of her, helping her ride out her climax. His own was almost finished building and he pulled out a few moments later, unable to handle the final squeeze she gave him and came. His seed was hot as it slid down his length. His hand grabbed at the corner of his sheets and wiped himself and her down as well as he could. He was going to have to do laundry in the morning.
She'd be gone in a few hours, catching the first ferry. She'd probably be sleeping through breakfast there, maybe lunch.
And he'd be too lethargic to even cook his own damn breakfast or come up with some explanation when Bolin filed in their kitchen, a little too knowing about what they had been doing.
And she'd be right; he'd think about her.
But for now, in the darkness of the night, they were entwined, her head in the crook of his neck and shoulder. And he, with his hand on the curve of her ass, would think about sleep.
Afterthoughts of the Night In The Morning
Inspired by drabble "Not an 'Accident'" of my oneshot "XI" in my fanfic Shots of Green, Red, Gold, and Blue. A lot more dialogue, a lot more descriptions.