"What are you thinking about, Korra" he asks from his spot on the grass beside her, arms behind his head, eyes glued to the stars because she's quiet, and with her, that's never a good sign, and he can almost hear it in the way her bones creak and her fingernails dig into the earth that will never be her home because I miss him, Wing.

I miss the city and probending and the way his arms felt like coming home.

And even though it's not fair to him, she tears her eyes from the sky and rolls onto her side and buries her head into the crook of his neck, and he lets her, a hand falling lazily to rest in her hair because he's selfish too, and something about having the Avatar to himself is just too tempting to pass up, so he threads his fingers into her locks and whispers something along the lines of I know, baby, I know.

And it's nice to forget, to leave her identity behind as she folds herself into a pair of arms that aren't quite long enough and drowns herself in lips that are far too full, and maybe they need each other because just like his home, her identity is under attack, and really she's just sick of being alone.

He shifts so that his arm is free to stroke from her hip to her waist, teeth expertly biting at her bottom lip because this isn't the first time he's helped a woman drown her past, and honestly it's better like this, better when there are no strings attached, when all that's left behind is animalistic passion and the way bodies slide like fire against each other, nothing but scalding flesh and ash.

She feels his lips move to the spot where her neck and shoulder meet, sucking until she's marked, and she can't help the way her head falls back and her mouth opens and her fingers thread through his hair because I need you.

His body pushes flush against hers, forcing her flat on her back, legs straddling her hips until she can feel every inch of his pressed against her, fingers slipping beneath the fabric of her shirt, leaving trails of warmth in their wake. Never one to be outdone, her hands hands make quick work of his top, fingers brushing toned muscles, and she swears she can hear his breath catch before he's back in control.

Maybe they were always meant to be a power struggle as she pushes back against him and her fingers get lost somewhere in the sweaty mass of his hair, and before she has a time to question what little morality she has left, clothes are flying and teeth are clinking and there's something so right about the way her fingers slip into the waistband of his pant and pull.

And it's a familiar feeling when she wraps her lips around his member and watches his face contort in complete bliss as she moves rhythmically around him.

She squeaks as he shoves her demandingly back onto the grass, pushing apart her legs with sudden vigor his voice hoarse as he tells her to relax.

Let me help you, love.

His tongue is skilled as it trails down her neck and wraps around her breast, fingers clutching teasingly around her thigh. She wants to scream at him to hurry up, but all her energy seems to be tensed in her muscles as he bites his way to her heat and lets his tongue assault her.

Ahhh!

.Yes. And everything is burning in the most beautiful way possible as her spine arches and her hands grip his hair violently and every thought of Republic City and ocher eyes is replaced by green, green, green.

Spirits Wing, please!

Please! Please!

She can feel him smirk against her before inserting a finger and pumping until his fingers are soaked with her.

Everything in her feels like it's wound tight, toes curled, legs shaking, breathing nothing but broken gasps

YES! YES!

"Just let go, baby, go ahead."

Fuck, Wing!

And the world collapses into fragmented reality as she clenches her thighs around his head and screams into the empty night, and her body shakes in relief because she needed this.

Damn does she need this.

As soon as her limbs regain control, she's pushing him on his back and hovering teasingly over his member, hands rough against his chest as she impales herself, hips rocking against his as he lunges up towards her. Her hands rake across his chest, leaving scratches for the next girl to see as his hands reach to cup her breasts, pulling at her nipples until all she knows is red as her name slips like a prayer from his lips.

Spirits Korra! You feel so good baby!

Fuck…!

Her body is lost in the way they fit together, in the way every nerve is tingling, she doesn't even complain as he pulls out of her, and flips her on her knees, grabbing a fistful of hair before slamming back into her. The scream that rips through her lips is primal as she pushes back against him desperately, begging for more, moaning as she feels his body bend around hers, chest to back, his hand creeping expertly down her body to flick her clit.

She feels him bite down roughly on her ear.

You think that city boy could make you feel like this, he grunts, each word its own thrust.

No! Only you, Wing!

And she can feel it in the pit of her stomach, like a dam waiting to break, the pleasure coursing through every inch of her body, until suddenly his teeth dig into her neck, and her body surges is euphoria, clamping violently around him as she rides out the waves of pleasure.

Fuck,fuckfuck!

.

Please baby, cum with me.

And that's all it takes as his hips freeze inside her as her name slips through his lips, a broken scream, and she is filled with him in the most intimate way possible, as they rock through the surges, moans burning in the back of their throats.

They don't dress themselves when it's over, they are no star crossed lovers, they simply look at each other, relief sprawled like a virgin blush against their faces before sneaking back into Zhaofu one at a time.

And maybe they're both selfish because she's in love with the city, and he's in love with the idea of making her moan.

But really, in Kuvira's world, feelings mean nothing.

So maybe they're just learning to adapt.

A/N So I've seen a lot of interest in Wing/Korra related matters, so I decided I might as well just smut it out.