A/N: Another chapter! Thank you illustrate for being my 100th reviewer (and special thanks for this not being your primary ship)! Thanks to everyone that has reviewed, favorited, and alerted this story!

Disclaimer: I don't own.

She hates her title. Not Avatar, she's grown up with that. From the moment she accidentally bent fire her parents cautioned her with that name. She's grown into it.

Fiancée. Engaged. Those are the titles she hates. It's in between and as firm as smoke. Daily she toys with her necklace and wonders if this will actually form into something more permanent. To her it always has been.

Make is her one and only. In all things. She's grown up on tales of her past lives and their one true loves. She assumed she was one of the few who never had one. Little Korra had spoken of how she didn't need anyone and was perfectly happy alone.

Little Korra learned how wrong she was when she met Mako. It was gradual and sudden. The moment she saw him some deep hidden part of her knew. Reality took longer to make it happen.

Now here she is: engaged and living with her one, but not married. It's funny, before she never thought about marriage or how important the title is. Now she's not married but living with him; not he's not hers but close enough.

Most days she's fine with this distinction. There's something so final about marriage, even if she's already so certain that he's the one. Usually she reminds herself that everything will happen in time and they're already living together. What does a formal ceremony even mean to the Avatar?

Then she has days like today. Where it's not enough; where she wants to rush to City Hall and get the papers signed now and she just needs the legal proof because she's certain he'll disappear. They only shared a bed, nothing more. He's off to work and she has nothing pressing to do. She reads reports from the Council about new laws that are being proposed. She can't concentrate on any of the sentences. Her imagination wonders.

He's going to come home and pack his things and leave (even if the apartment is technically in his name). She's not worth the hassle or the pomp.

For a second she's scared. Then sad; then angry, then she's enraged. She burns her papers and airbends the ashes.

She wasn't sure how long she'd sat there, stewing in her anger, until he called out a soft "Korra" as he opened the door. She's on her feet in record time and as soon as he's closed the door she's on him.

She tackles him to the floor because if he's going to leave she's damn sure he's going to regret it. Her lips crush his. This isn't a kiss, this is possession. She'd carve her name in his flesh as a reminder.

He returns her kiss with as much insistence. Her doubt heightens. This is their last time, her mind whispers. If it is she's going to make it count. He tries to sit up, to gain some sort of leverage so he can kiss her and be dominant.

She's not going to allow this. Instead she begins to literally rip off his clothes. Buttons fly and seams tear but she doesn't care. She yanks off her shirt and her pants soon follow. She's naked except for her upper wraps.

His eyes look hungry and she drinks it in. She doesn't bother trying to remove his pants. Instead she frees him; he's hard and ready. She impales herself and it stings a little. She's not as ready as she should be but it doesn't matter.

He tries to sit up, to kiss her. She pushes him back down and begins her frantic movements. This is about her. She doesn't care if he feels anything.

Faster she moves. She's close; she flexes her inner muscles eliciting a groan from the firebender underneath her. His hands are on her hips. He tries to make her slow down and she slaps his hands. Her right hand moves down to tease her button. She flicks and tugs at it and cries out. He whimpers underneath her but she's too lost in seeking her own release.

She pushes herself over the edge and cries out, leaning back as she tries to steady her breathing. He takes the opportunity to sit up. Her eyes meet his and she can tell he wants more. He smiles and suddenly she's on her back and he's kissing the breath out of her. He props her legs on his shoulders and he takes her hard.

She cries out because she's still sensitive and it's hard and fast and slightly too much. It feels amazing.

She comes (too soon) with a shout. He follows shortly after as he screams her name. He collapses on her before quickly moving to the side. He lazily kisses every inch of her skin he can reach.

"I love you Korra," he murmurs into her hair.

In that moment she doesn't care that her back is starting to hurt or that they are lying on the floor right by their door. The words reassure her that he's not leaving and even if she feels like she's in between he's there with her.

"I love you too," she whispers before snuggling into his embrace.

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