ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ korra and her love languages
i. korra whose love language is physical touch. korra whose love language is physical touch because she finds solace in the warmth of your touch.
if she could, korra would spend the rest of her life like this, with you nestled in her arms as the sun rises to paint republic city in hues of oranges and pinks. there’s nothing like waking up to a beautiful girl next to a beautiful sunrise. korra lays there silently, playing with a strand of your hair.
in about an hour, she has to carry the weight of the avatar, but right now in this quiet corner of the world, korra wants nothing more than to just be ‘(y/n)’s girlfriend.’ and so she does.
her eyes roam over your figure, drinking it all in. how did i get so lucky? from your cascading hair, to your plump lips, to your soft hands that just seem to flawlessy fit in her own, korra never knew it was possible to be this perfect. all her life people have only seen her as just the avatar, but you were the first to see her as just korra. you were the first to treat her as if she wasn’t some expendable end all be all to the world's problems.
“(y/n),” korra starts, the back of her hand grazing your cheek. her voice is barely above a whisper, “i know i don’t say it as much as i should, but you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. i love you so much and i-”
“stupid alarm.” she mutters, reaching to shut it off.
with a soft groan, your eyes flutter open slowly, the warmth of korra's touch lingering on your skin. as consciousness filters in, you feel the strong arms of your girlfriend pulling you close.
“good morning, baby,” she whispers, placing gentle kisses on your forehead.
with a contented sigh, you gaze up at korra, smoothing out her tousled hair, “mm, good morning.”
she chuckles at your groggy voice before placing a final kiss on your crown. making efforts to rise from her position, she untangles herself from the bedsheets, “i’ll get the tea going. we’ve got a busy day ahead of us,” she sighs.
“korra,” you draw out her name. reaching for her arm, you gently tug on the sleeve of her pajamas, a silent plea for her to stay, “please my love, stay. ten more minutes?”
you flash her your signature puppydog eyes, your lips pulled downwards, eyes widened. and as easily as that, korra’s resolve falters. how can she say no to you? especially when you look so beautiful, your tired eyes looking up at her so sweetly and your open arms inviting her back to the comfort of your touch.
“well…” she gives you that saccharine smile you’ve always been fond of, and that’s when you know you’ve got her, “i guess the world can wait another hour for their avatar.”
and she climbs back into bed.
ii. korra whose love language is quality time. korra whose love language is quality time because amongst all of her avatar duties, she'll always want to come home to you.
the arctic hen sizzles beautifully on the pan as you take in the fragrant aroma of the kitchen. it’s savory from the arctic hen, yet delicately sweet from the cookies in the oven. you dance around, tending to the sea prune stew and seaweed stir fry. checking the clock, it reads 6:46pm, serving as a gentle reminder of korra’s anticipated return by 7:00pm.
after all, it is korra’s birthday. it has to be perfect.
you begin plating everything, attempting to replicate the elegant plating from a mover that you had watched over the weekend. a little smear of sauce. some accent dots. and finally…seaweed flakes for garnish. clapping your hands together, you take a step back from the dining room table, admiring your hard work. as if on cue, you hear the front door slide open.
“babe, i’m home! wow it smells really go-”
“happy birthday, my love!" you exclaim, catching korra off guard as you dash over and envelop her in a tight embrace. stepping back slightly, you tenderly sweep a stray lock of hair behind her ear, your eyes overflowing with affection. leaning in once more, you share a deep, heartfelt kiss, your whispered words carrying the weight of your emotions. "i love you so much, korra.”
she swears she’ll never get used to you doing that, her rapid heartbeat a testament to that. korra chuckles, her hands finding purchase on your waist, “i love you too. now, what smells so good?”
her gaze wanders the kitchen, taking in the familiar sights, as you gently grasp her hands, guiding her toward the dining room. as korra enters, a gasp escapes her lips, and she feels a rush of emotion at the sight before her. the table is adorned with an array of dishes, each one a cherished memory from her childhood, meticulously prepared with love.
with a sheepish smile, you guide her to the two wooden chairs at the table, “now i know it’s not a lot. but i asked your mom for the recipes so i hope you like-”
korra shuts you up with a kiss. her hands again find their way to your hips, holding you. and by the look in her eyes, you know that she's been needing this. korra knows she’s never exactly been the best with words, so she hopes you understand what she’s trying to say, “(y/n), it’s perfect.”
you lean into her side, a sigh of relief escaping you, “oh good, i was so worried you’d hate it.”
your girlfriend turns to you, an expression of disbelief painted on her face, “what? babe, i’d love it even if you were a bad cook.”
“what about the time i burned the seal jerky?”
“okay maybe that’s the exception. how do you even burn jerky?”
“hey! you were distracting me!”
iii. korra whose love language is acts of service. korra whose love language is acts of service because when she’s not out there saving the world, she’s making sure her baby is taken care of.
if there were a competition for the worst worst day ever, today’s events would take the cake. first, you and korra totally overslept, thus causing you to be late to your crucial work meeting. after a solid ten minutes of your boss’s scolding, of course, your coworker just had to call out sick, and just like that, you had to complete his portion of the work project. oh and for the cherry on top, your favorite lunch spot was inexplicably closed.
today was not your day, you conclude.
with a heavy heart, you trudge homeward, with nothing but your bothersome chores in mind. fold the laundry, dust the shelves, reorganize the desk…each task more dismaying than the last.
unlocking the front door, your ears are met with the quiet melody of an upbeat jazz tune. that’s strange. there’s never really music playing unless you’re home. then you’re greeted by naga, her gargantuan head nuzzling your side. and it’s even stranger, usually korra’s the first to welcome you home, “naga,” you stroke the top of her head, white fur as fluffy as always, “where’s korra?”
the polar bear dog offers you a hushed bark as her nose points you to your shared bedroom, “thanks girl.”
you find the door closed, the music resonating softly from the room. as the door swings open, you’re met with korra precariously balancing on her tippytoes, diligently dusting the shelves. the rest of the room seems to be spotless, the laundry basket empty and your desk absolutely pristine.
at the sound of your voice, your girlfriend whirls around, almost surprised, “(y/n)! hi! you’re home early.”
you chuckle, her crooked smile on display, “yeah, i spilled stew on my pants so i got to go home,” you gesture to the brown stain on your thigh, “but wait, wasn’t i supposed to do all of this? you only had to do the dishes and clean the bathrooms.”
“yeah, i know,” she lilts. korra’s grin widens as she hops down from the wooden stool, meeting you where you stand. her hands come up to rest on your waist and she plants a sweet kiss on your lips, “but i did them all anyways.”
your astonishment quickly melts into gratitude. maybe today isn’t as bad as you had thought, “but…but when did you even have the time? didn’t you have to meet with the city council?”
korra nods, savoring your reaction, “mhm, but they cancelled, so i came home and got a head start on everything. and plus, i wanted you to come home and not have to do anything for once. i know how much stress your work has been putting on you recently.”
as you stand there, taking in the scene before you, another wave of gratitude washes over you. tears begin to well in your eyes, a floodgate opened by the weight of the day's trials and tribulations, mingling with a profound sense of appreciation for your girlfriend. korra knows all too well what you’re feeling—what it's like when the dam breaks. once more, she pulls you into her tight embrace, sturdy arms enclosing your waist.
“i’m sorry,” you begin, attempting to hold your tears back. korra gives you a sympathetic smile, “i’m happy, i promise. it’s just…everything today was such a big mess. so, thank you.”
“it’s no biggie, babe,” korra states, her hands gingerly wiping away your tears. she places a soft kiss on each tear stained cheek before taking hold of your hand, leading you out to the living room, “bolin’s new mover is out. wanna give it a watch?”
