A/N: I've been abducted by Tumblr. Oh, and by Legend of Korra fandom. Sorry, pokemon. I promise I've got some stuff for you too, still... Even some going up tonight.
Long story short, I've been taking prompts for short, usually smut, fics via my ask box over there. A couple have accidentally exploded into full length fics, which are being posted on my lyrakamiya account. The rest are drabbles like this one.
I'm still working out how exactly I want to post these, so bear with me (and my long A/Ns) guys. Thanks for your support, and feel free to drop by and let me know what you think and throw prompts in the bin!
Prompt: Makorra, some comfortsex after Korra is feeling upset about something (post Masami relationship, cheating makes me sad). -fangirlingforeverz
He knew tomorrow morning she'd be on that boat. She was only waiting that long, instead of stealing Uugi and disappearing into the night, because she needed Naga with her. She'd had only ten hours of warning that she'd need to go, and he now only had six hours to figure out how to get himself and Bolin on that boat, too, because he already knew she'd say no.
The details were foggy at best - Korra knew little of what was going on, and told him even less. Messenger seahawks, much less ones that could handle the cold of the south pole, could only transfer so much information, and even that was two days old by now.
Something to do with her parents. That was all Mako knew.
That, and more importantly, that she needed him right now. And six hours of planning was going to have to dwindle down to five or even less. And that he was going to have to get her to get some rest, before he had any hope of making a plan.
Her lips pulled at his between choked sobs, her hand interrupting them occasionally to bend her tears and any stray saliva away with dismissive waves. He kissed back, holding her tight, trying to understand how the bold, unshakable Korra could be this broken girl in his arms.
Then again, he hadn't been so bold in the same place, had he?
Desperately she worked her way out of her clothes, throwing one thing after another away as though convinced one of those pieces had to be the key to lifting the weight form her heart. He followed suit, doing his best not to break contact with her, to keep kissing her, to keep his hand on her back or laced with hers.
His own soul was heavy with the idea he had practice at this comforting thing, and at how familiar everything felt when Korra pulled the blanket over their heads, shutting out the outside world. Asami had been more similar than he cared to admit in the wake of Hiroshi's arrest. Maybe that was why he hoped so strongly that Korra's parents were safe and sound - not just for her sake, but because he couldn't stand the thought of all four of them being orphans.
At least, maybe, he could get it right this time. He could be comforting, instead of conflicted, and not make things worse by being wrapped up in his own emotions.
By the time she pulled him on top of her, he felt like he was suffocating under the heat of their breath, insulated by the linens packed tightly around them. She was more stifling still, her lips robbing him of a chance to breathe, her body too tight around him as he pushed in, making Mako's first few movements hesitant and nearly painful.
Korra's fingers grappled across his back, her legs curling to wrap around his waist and lock him into her. There were tears, still, but they were silent now, streaming down her face with an almost eerie peacefulness in the darkness of their cocoon. His thumb found its way to her temple, trying to dry those tears, but she jerked her head away.
He realized it then, the difference between her and Asami: Korra just needed to let it out. She had always been alone, and could handle herself, her own problems. She didn't need, and definitely didn't want, anyone else to dry her tears. She just needed to get the pain and the frustration out so she could get herself put back together.
He'd help however he could.