He hears it once, that familiar hum of Bruce Springsteen flowing through the crack of the bathroom door. Your voice singing along to the lyrics as your silhouette behind the shower curtain moves slightly to the beat. A worn smile tugging at his lips beneath his beard. And he stays like that. Just listening.
Your doing your makeup. Coating mascara onto your lashes in front of your vanity as your phone sings the sound of George Michaels undeniable voice. Another classic choice. He listens from the hallway for a second. And he swears he falls in love with you all over again. Wondering how your choices in music could be so similar to his.
Sat outside in the garden tanning on a hot day. Headphones on probably too loud than they should be. Johnny Cash. Now that peaks his curiosity. He stalks over to you, resting his hands atop your shoulders as he leans down. Your startled at the touch before you smile when he pulls your headphones down. The ballad of boot hill.
"You got damn good taste darlin'."
He states, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck as he listens to the melody. A proud smile growing on your face. A humble shrug of your shoulders.
"All the old classics."
You say softly and you swear you can feel him smile against your skin. Practically feeling his humming vibrate your chair. It happens again, unconsciously choosing songs he loves. All the timeless classics.
Fleetwood Mac now playing as you sway your hips. Focused on the vegetables at your hands as you make dinner. He picks you up on it this time. Burying his face into the crook of your neck as he sways his own hips into the same rhythm as yours.
"You get this taste from me?"
He murmurs softly, his hands lifting to guide yours as you continue to cut. Stevies husky vocals filling the atmosphere. A small laugh escapes unbeknownst to yourself.
"Maybe, or maybe you cant accept the fact I have good taste."
That earns a gruff chuckle. His cheek pressed to the side of your head as he continues to guide your cutting. He knows you can do it, but theres something intimate about it.
"No, but if your into the classics. Your missing one."
He murmurs, before resting your hands down as he releases them. He leaves you there. Your back cold as he steps back. But then he goes for your phone. You dont even think twice, he types in your pin and swipes it open. Changing the song that pours from the speaker. And then you laugh, a hearty sound that comes from your stomach. The saxophone of Careless whisper fills the kitchen and for a moment you just look at him with amusement. His expression turns sheepish, maybe even a little flustered before that southern charm comes back full force.
"You ain't ever slow danced to careless whisper before?"
He drawls, holding his hand out as an indication for you to take it. You smile and shake your head.
"No, because I always thought it was cheesy."
A rugged smile curves corners of his beard. And when you take your hand, he pulls you against him. Your more surprised he could dance, let alone to something as intimate and sultry as this. His other hand settles on your lower back, still holding yours firmly. He doesnt necessarily step, just guides. Slow sways and gentle twirls. Your body falling into motion with his. And you always thought he'd be stiff. But he isnt. Another twirl before he pulls your back to his chest. His arm wrapping around your waist, hand still clasped with yours. Your head falls back against his shoulder. Mindlessly swaying to the beat as the song fades into a sultry end. He leans down and kisses your temple, then your cheek, jawline and whispers in your ear.
"I am the romantic type."
Is all he whispers, his voice low. Like gravel beneath boots. And you knew he was, but not like this. Slow dancing in the kitchen. Pressing against you and guiding you, its somehow more intimate than anything youve done with him. A contented hum rumbles in your chest as he presses a kiss to your neck. You murmur softly, eyes fluttering shut.
"If I had known you'd do that, I'd have played this song all the time."
"Oh but then I'd have missed you singing to Springsteen or swaying to Fleetwood Mac, or tanning in a tiny bikini listening to Johnny Cash."
Your cheeks flush a soft red. Turning around to face him. Tilting your head slightly as you look up at him. His hand releases yours as both of his large hands slide up to cup your cheeks. Pressing his lips to yours. You wonder, how youve ever dated younger men who wouldn't have even thought of slow dancing, even if you told them. Who wouldn't know who Fleetwood Mac are if you showed them a picture.
Zuko x reader | he has a bad day and shows up at your door ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
something soft for zuko nation
𖹭 𖹭 𖹭
Zuko didn't knock like a normal person.
He knocked like he was still deciding whether to run by the time you opened the door. Three quick raps and then silence, and when you swung it open he was just standing there, one hand shoved in his pocket, jaw doing that thing it did when he had too much going on inside and absolutely no idea what to do with it.
You didn't say anything. You just moved out of the way.
He came in, sat on your couch, and stared at the floor for a little while. You let him. You went to the kitchen and put the kettle on and by the time you came back with two cups he had his elbows on his knees and was rubbing the back of his neck like he was trying to erase something.
"Bad day?" you asked, even though you already knew.
"Meeting," he said. That was it. Just the one word.
You sat next to him and waited.
"I had the right idea," he said eventually. "I knew I had the right idea. And I still managed to say it in the worst possible way and everyone just kind of - " he made a vague gesture with his hand. "You know."
"Yeah," you said. "I know."
He picked up his tea. Put it down. Picked it up again.
"I've been doing this for years now. Trying to be better at it. Trying to just - say things normally, like a normal person." He laughed a little but it wasn't really a laugh. "You'd think by now."
You looked at him. At the side of his face, the scar you'd stopped noticing ages ago, the way he was frowning like he was angry at himself and had been for a while.
"You're really hard on yourself" you said.
"I'm realistic."
"You're really hard on yourself," you said again.
He finally looked at you. He did that thing where he held eye contact a second longer than he means to, like he forgot to look away and then decided not to bother.
"I just " he stopped. Started again. "I don't want to keep messing it up."
"Then stop expecting yourself to be perfect at things you're still learning."
"It's not about being perfect."
"Then what's it about?"
He was quiet for a moment.
"I don't know," he admitted. "I just feel like everyone else already knows how to do this and I'm always catching up."
You didn't say anything for a second. Just sat with that.
"For what it's worth," you said eventually, "you don't look like someone who's behind to me. You look like someone who's trying really hard and being really mean to yourself about it."
He made a face. "That's not comforting."
"It wasn't supposed to be comforting it was supposed to be honest."
Something shifted in his expression then. Just slightly. The tension around his eyes loosened a little.
He leaned back into the couch properly, for the first time since he got here, and let out a long breath through his nose.
"Sorry for just showing up," he said.
"Don't apologize for that."
"I didn't know where else to go."
You looked at him. He was looking at the ceiling now, one arm resting on his knee, and he looked tired in that specific way he got when he'd been carrying something heavy for too long and had finally put it down somewhere.
"Zuko."
"Hm."
"You can always just show up."
He didn't say anything. But after a moment his hand moved across the cushion between you and his fingers found yours, sort of awkwardly, like he'd practiced the idea of it but not the execution. You held his hand anyway. He squeezed once, quickly, like he almost didn't want you to notice.
You noticed.
Outside it was getting dark. Neither of you turned a light on. The tea went lukewarm and then cold and at some point his head tilted until it was resting against yours and you thought he might have fallen asleep except you could tell by his breathing that he hadn't.
He was just resting.
Just here.
You stayed like that for a long time and neither of you felt the need to make it into anything more than what it was.
wrote this so it would make me sleepy enough to go to bed
Zuko wakes up in the middle of the night to find your side of the bed empty and cold. he tosses the covers off him before he jumps off the bed, not even bothering to put his slippers on. He snatches his robe hung up on the bedpost and slips it on as he hurries out of the bedroom, thoughts going a mile a minute. he's about to dash past your shared chambers' private living room when your voice stops him in his tracks. He turns, spotting you sitting in the dark, a giant book in your hands and the only source of light being the moon shining through the windows.
"You've got to be kidding me." He snaps groggily as he stomps toward you, his glare stern despite the sleepy haze still clouding his eyes. "Have you been up all this time reading?"
You nod immediately, knowing there's no point in lying. "Book was getting good."
"How can you even see? I keep telling you you're gonna mess up your vision."
"My six eyes see everything" You mumble under your breath, marking the page and shutting the book.
"What?" His brows furrow as he takes the book from you to set aside.
"Nothing." You try to reach for the book only for him to snatch it up and place it out of your reach.
"Unbelievable," He huffs and then he leans down to pick you up, tossing you over his shoulder like a sack of rice before heading back to the bedroom. "You're going to bed right now."
You sag against him before trying to bargain. "Can I at least finish that last chapter?"
The swat to your ass is the only response you get.
At this age, Sokka’s brain is a lethal weapon, but he uses those powers for the most elaborate dates in history.
The Reconnaissance. He’ll spend a week scouting a picnic location to ensure the wind speed is perfect for kite flying and that no local badger-moles are in their mating season.
The Standard Operating Procedure. He has an SOP for everything in your relationship, including the most efficient way to cuddle to prevent arm numbness. He calls it The Optimal Snuggle Formation.
Master of Craftsmanship
He’s moved past just sharpening his boomerang. Adult Sokka is a tinkerer and an engineer.
Custom Jewelry. Instead of buying you a generic necklace, he’ll spend all night in a forge making you something out of meteorite or refined Earth Kingdom steel. It’ll be incredibly durable and probably have a hidden compartment for a compass or a snack.
Fix-It Guy. If something breaks in your house, he doesn't just fix it, he upgrades it. Your kitchen cabinets now have a hydraulic pulley system because efficiency is the soul of a happy home.
The "Uncle" Energy (Even Without Kids)
Since he’s traveling with Aang and Katara, he’s the fun one of the group, but he’s fiercely protective of his inner circle- especially you.
The Hype Man. If you’re in a fight or a high-stakes situation, Sokka is in the background screaming your praises and calling out tactical openings. Look at that footwork! That’s my partner! Keep your guard up, honey, his left side is wide open!
Emotional Maturity. He’s learned to balance his sarcasm with real vulnerability. He’ll tell you about his fears of not being "enough" in a world of powerful benders, trusting you with the insecurities he hides from the rest of the world.
Life on the Move (Appa Life)
Since the Gaang is still traveling the world to keep the peace...
The Packing Expert. He can fit two weeks' worth of supplies into a single rucksack. He’ll insist on packing your bag for you because "weight distribution is a science, and I am a scientist."
Sky-Bison Dates. He loves taking you up on the tail of Appa, just to watch the stars. He’ll point out all the constellations, but he’s mostly just looking at you.
The Humor (It Never Goes Away)
Puns...They have only gotten worse with age. He thinks he’s a comedic genius.
The Beard. If he’s rocking that adult facial hair from the movie posters, he definitely spent way too long grooming it and will constantly ask you if it makes him look distinguished or rugged.
"I've faced Fire Lords, secret societies, and giant monsters... but trying to figure out what you want for dinner? That’s the real final boss."
☆ summary : Spending time in the water tribe has been more relaxing than expected, especially after the war
☆ pairing : Sokka x Fem!Reader
☆ word count : idk short, i dont want to check
☆ author note : Like all of the internet, you’ve probably seen the leaks for the movie. I think its very important that when and if at this point it comes out, you go support it in any way possible. I myself dont want to just see slop forever and that means we must support the artists that put in the work.
For all that your partner was worth, at least he was…. an amazing story teller. Albeit an egotistical one.
“And that’s when I said,” Sokka continued, pacing with his boomerang slung over his shoulder, “‘You can take our sky bison, but you’ll never take our ’”
“Our what?” one of the kids interrupted.
Sokka paused. “…Our… dignity.”
The kids gasped anyway. Perfect. Sokka smirked, clearly pleased with himself, and kept going. “So there I was, outnumbered, outmatched, and let’s be honest better looking than everyone else involved ”
Two of the kids nodded seriously. You snickered to yourself knowing damn well about any of the adventures from what katara has told you and for a fact that their earlier adventures were always a little rocky.
The third squinted. “Weren’t you the guy who got stuck in a hole that one time?”
Sokka froze. “…What?”
“The hole,” the kid repeated. “My cousin said you fell in one”
The other two kids turned to Sokka, waiting. Sokka blinked. Once. Twice. His confidence visibly deflated.
“first of all dont start believing just what people tell you” he said, pointing defensively. “And second of all, I climbed out myself. Mostly.”
The kid tilted their head. “So you did fall in a hole.”
Sokka opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. From a short distance away, you couldn’t hold it in anymore you laughed.
Not loud enough to completely ruin him, but definitely loud enough for him to hear. Sokka’s head snapped toward you. “Hey! You! no commentary from the peanut gallery!”
You raised your hands innocently, still grinning. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Youre supposed to be my number one supporter.”
The kids turned to you now, curious, as if you might confirm the story. You just shrugged. “He also once thought a cactus was a good source of energy.”
Sokka groaned. “Okay, that was one time and I was dehydrated!”
The kids burst into giggles. Sokka sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “…I had them. I had them.”
You stepped a little closer, still smiling. “You still do. They’re just getting the full version now.”
He shot you a look. “You are not invited to my storytelling sessions anymore.”
“Too late,” you said, settling nearby. “like you said, im your number one fan.”
“I said supporter but i suppose you can have a promotion” Clearly giddy that you're here.
One of the kids piped up again, eyes shining. “Tell us about the cactus!”
Sokka groaned louder this time, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth.
“…Fine. if anything this can be a cautionary tale about how strong my body is.”
“Of course” you muttered.
he was back in it while the kids leaned in, completely hooked all over again. You stayed off to the side, arms loosely crossed, watching the performance with a kind of fondness you hadn’t expected to feel when all of this started.
It still felt strange sometimes how quickly things had changed over the course of a few years. Not long ago, you’d stood on the opposite side of the war. Loyal to the Fire Nation, to the Fire Lord, to everything you’d been raised to believe was right. And then Zuko had shown up, insistent, asking no, pushing you to see things differently. To trust him.
You hadn’t switched sides “in an instant.” That was the version people liked to tell.
The truth was that you thought Zuko was full of shit. Unfortunately he was someone that you trusted so you went along with it somehow, against your better judgment, you trusted him anyway.
That trust had pulled you straight into the orbit of Aang and the rest of them. At first, it was because of Zuko. The two of you had fallen into step easily, like nothing had really changed between you. Late night conversations, understanding, standing side by side in battles that actually meant something now.
Call it teenage romance or whatever you want to call it but you and Zuko really did care for each other but it mightve been the height of everything and having a person to rely on. You moving away from your family to help him was less moving away and you getting kicked out
Meanwhile, Sokka had been… well, Sokka. You’d liked Suki almost immediately anyone with that much confidence and skill was impossible not to admire and the gaang had very easily (sorta) won during the final stretch of the war.
But things changed after. Suki went back to Kyoshi Island. Zuko… became Fire Lord.
And Sokka You glanced over at him now as he crouched in front of the kids, lowering his voice whispering the story. (clearly embarrassed even though you know the real story)
Sokka stayed… Sokka.
The Water Tribe wasn’t what you were used to. It was colder, quieter in some ways, people didn’t look at you like they trusted you right away not after where you came from but they didn’t shut you out either. It helped that Sokka never treated you like you didn’t belong. Even when neither of you could really define why you were both still here.
“…and that’s when I single handedly made sure no one was poisoned,” Sokka was saying now, puffing up slightly.
“You mean you drank a random plant” one of the kids asked.
Sokka pointed at them. “We are talking about looking out for your teammates."
You laughed again, softer this time. He glanced over at you, catching it, and rolled his eyes.
“Anyway,” he continued quickly, trying to recover his momentum, “the point is I am a highly trained warrior.”
“Then why do you live here?” another kid asked innocently. “Shouldn’t you be… somewhere important?”
His eyes flicked toward you without thinking. You pushed yourself off the wall and walked over, stepping into the edge of the little circle. “He is somewhere important, protecting you all”
Sokka blinked. The kids looked between you both. To answer their confusion. You shrugged lightly. “Someone has to keep an eye on him.”.
Then one of the kids grinned. “Ohhh, so you’re in charge.”
Sokka scoffed immediately. “I am absolutely in charge.”
“Sure you are,” you said under your breath.
He shot you a look. “give me some grace lady”
You met his gaze for a moment, oh how you love how freaking weird he is. “…Yeah,” you said, smiling.
Maybe he had rubbed off on you more than you liked to admit. You clapped your hands once, turning to the kids. “Alright, show’s over. Get out before I start kicking you all out myself.”
They stared at you. “Wow,” one of them said, unimpressed. “What’s your problem, lady?”
“Your face,” you shot back immediately, pointing toward the door. “Now go. Before I tell Sokka to put cactus juice in your food.”
They scattered, laughing and shouting protests as they pushed out the door, one of them yelling, “He would do it!” over their shoulder.
The door shut behind them, and just like that, the room went quiet. You exhaled softly, a small smile still on your face as you turned back. Sokka was already looking at you. “What?” you asked, raising a brow, though your voice came out lighter than you expected. “…your confidence repels me,” you said lying through your teeth as you stepped closer anyway, like something unseen kept pulling you in.
Sokka rubbed the back of his neck, glancing away for half a second before looking back at you again. “You didn’t have to follow me out here. Missed home, I just… didn’t think you’d stay this long.”
You tilted your head. “You trying to get rid of me?”
“Hey no,” he said quickly. “No, I just ” He exhaled, trying again. “I’m glad you did.”
“Wow,” you said dryly. “Don’t get all soft on me, tough guy.”
He groaned. “I was being sincere.”
“I can be sincere and a little bossy.” you state switching the topic to yourself
“Uh huh,” he said, folding his arms again. “Sure. What do you got?”
You stepped into him before he could overthink it, grabbing his shirt and tugging him down just enough to meet you. “kissing me.”
He didn’t get the chance to respond properly“oh ” before your lips met his.
his hands found your waist faster than anyone could blink, pulling you closer. When you pulled back, it wasn’t far. Close enough that you could still feel his breath hitch a little, like he was catching up.
“…Okay,” he said finally, blinking once. “That was ”
“Don’t ruin it,” you cut in, narrowing your eyes slightly.
He shut his mouth immediately to frown.
“…I was going to say ‘super amazing awesome,’” he tried.
You stared at him with a smirk displayed on your face.
He winced. “Right. Still ruining it.”
“Unbelievable,” you muttered but you didn’t move away.
If anything, your hands stayed exactly where they were. “So,” he said, quieter now, “wanna head home?”
You smile in return. “Let's go home.” you say while grabbing his hand.
Sokka smiling like an idiot while you both leave.
you turn to him once more. “oh by the way, im so the one in charge”
suggestive, established relationship, super fluffy!! mentions of marriage, katara cameo
you’re quite literally freezing your ass off.
you knew it would be cold. but you didn’t expect you’d feel like death was at your door.
the temperature isn’t the only thing that’s absurd. it’s the ice beneath you. no solid ground. you can’t feel mother earth beneath your feet and it’s so weird.
you hug your arms tighter around yourself, trying to keep it together. the fur coat sokka gave you before the trip isn’t helping much now—even though you’d actually been sweating in it earlier.
“you’re freezing,” he suddenly points out.
you don’t even have to look at him to know he’s wearing that teasing smile.
you only huff. “i’m fine.”
he doesn’t even pretend to believe you.
a gust of wind cuts through—and this time you visibly flinch.
his head snaps toward you, and he gasps dramatically before immediately moving in, wrapping himself around you like a stubborn koala.
“aww… my poor princess.”
you let out a startled squeak, muffled against his furs.
“sokka get off—”
he doesn’t answer as he ushers you toward the indoors quickly, the two of you waddling like penguins.
you haven’t even properly greeted any of his family or friends yet. rude.
“sokka! wh-what about your grandma? won’t she want to talk to you first? it’s rude to—”
“oh puh-lease,” he interrupts with an exaggerated eye roll, “i’m sure gran gran will understand that i don’t want my cute little girlfriend getting hypothermia.”
that shuts you up. heat rushes to your cheeks despite the blistering cold attacking your face.
when you finally reach indoors, it’s like your entire body finally remembers how to function again.
warmth. finally.
“welcome to my humble abode!”
you barely even take the chance to take everything in before he’s suddenly right in front of you. toe to toe. he tilts his head down a little, inspecting you.
“my poor baby looks tragic,” he says with a small pout.
“i’m c-cold,” you spit out, still shivering.
“yeah, i can see that.”
you’re unable to muster a glare at him. he only smiles apologetically before reaching to cup your face.
you freeze in a different way this time.
it shocks you how his hands are so warm despite the cold. it’s so unfair. the man’s been hiding a fire somewhere and only decided to share it now.
“sokka—” you start, but it comes out a little weaker than intended.
he hums, like he’s satisfied with the reaction, and gently rubs his thumbs along your cheeks.
“you’re still cold,” he sighs. “let me warm you up. it’s my duty.”
“duty as what? my boyfriend?” you mumble, then immediately take it back. “actually— yeah. it is your duty,” you add quickly, scoffing as you lean into his warmth anyway.
sokka only grins, bright and smug.
you barely take a step before your footing falters. anyone else might’ve missed it. but your strategic boyfriend doesn’t.
his hand tightens around yours instantly. “whoa, hey.”
you try to brush it off, but your balance is still off, your body not quite trusting what’s beneath you. or rather… what isn’t. he studies you for half a second, then huffs like he’s just confirmed something obvious.
“babe. you’re done.”
“pfft— what?”
“you’re wobbling. like a baby penguin. come on.”
you glare, but it loses all its effect when you nearly tip again. “it’s— it’s the sickness from flying not from…”
you decide to shut up because you don’t even believe your own words.
sokka’s guiding—well, steering—you across the room, hands firm on your shoulders.
you groan, “sokka—”
“nuh uh. no complaints. i’m being a good boyfriend right now, remember? you said it’s my duty.”
you regret ever saying that. you’ll know he’ll be bringing it up forever.
he leads you over to his bed—layers of soft, thick furs piled up. he sits you down like you’re fragile and might shatter if he’s too rough. which honestly, yeah, that’s what you feel like right now.
you sink into the furs instantly, letting out sound of surprise at how soft they are. it melts his heart.
before you can even process it, he’s already pulling more furs over you with a noise of adoration, tucking them around your shoulders, your sides—everywhere. like he’s building a cocoon around you.
“awww, there you go,” he says, sounding entirely too pleased with himself. “nice and bundled.”
and then, because apparently that’s not enough—he climbs in right after you.
“what are you doing?”
“what does it look like i’m doing?” he says, already settling in, pulling the furs up around both of you. “shared body heat. very efficient.”
“hmph.”
he shifts closer, with a smile, arms wrapping around you again, but more purposefully this time.
“aww… you’re still cold,” he coos softly, voice dropping into something unbearably gentle. “poor thing.”
your face burns.
“stop talking like that,” you mutter, trying and failing to sound annoyed.
“like what?” he teases, brushing his hand along your arm. “i’m just concerned about my girlfriend freezing like a popsicle.”
“it’s your fault! you didn’t even warn me it would be this cold,” you complain, huddling closer without thinking.
“okay, in my defense, this is like… sweater weather for me.”
your eyes nearly boggle out of your eyes.
“sweater weather?”
he shrugs, unapologetic. “what? it’s not that bad.”
cocky bastard.
you make a noise of pure disbelief, burying your face deeper into the furs. into him, maybe. not that you’d admit how warm he feels.
“you’re crazy,” you mumble.
he laughs. ugh. you love that laugh. sokka tightens his arms around you, “well, this crazy guy here is still the one that’s keeping you warm.”
“hmph.”
sokka can’t help but laugh again. he loves when you get all huffy and puffy. you hate that he’s right. but you hate it a lot less when you stop shivering.
a comfortable silence settles in after that—broken only by the quiet of wind outside and the soft sounds of breathing.
you don’t even realize how much you’ve relaxed until your grip on his tunic loosens, your once ice like body finally thawing out piece by piece.
sokka’s hand absentmindedly traces slow circles along your arm.
you could fall asleep like this.
but then the flap to the tent swings open.
“okay, what is—”
you jolt upright.
katara stands in the doorway, mouth dropping, staring at the two of you tangled up in furs like she’s just walked into something she definitely did not ask to see.
your entire face goes hot.
you scramble, sitting up a little straighter, offering her an awkward, apologetic look. “sorry—”
“hey what’s that look for?” sokka cuts in immediately, not bothering to move an inch, arm still firmly around you. “i’m keeping your future sister in law from dying. you’re welcome.”
your brain short circuits.
future what?
you make a small, strangled noise, eyes widening as your face somehow gets even hotter.
“sokka!” you hiss, trying to elbow him, which doesn’t really work when you’re still pressed to him.
“anyway, we’re gonna be a while,” he adds, way too casually. he grins, completely unfazed, wiggling his brows at her.
katara’s face twists.
“oh. that’s—” she makes a dramatic gagging sound, turning away. “that’s disgusting.”
“you’re the one who walked in without even asking!” sokka retorts. “this is on you!”
“i didn’t expect to see this! i was going to tell you gran gran was looking for you guys but now i’m going to bleach my eyes.”
you cover your cheeks with your hands. “i’m so sorry.”
katara points at sokka without even looking at him. “you’re insufferable.”
“as if you and aang aren’t the same! all we’re going is cuddling in private! not even pda.” he shoots back.
“whatever! i’m leaving. please stay in here. both of you.”
“gladly. but tell gran gran i’m just warming y/n up!” he calls.
she grunt and zips the tent back up with a little more force than necessary.
“she’s so dramatic.”
“future sister in law?” you mumble at the same time.
he lets out a hum absentmindedly, like he doesn’t see the problem at all, resting his chin lightly against your head. he shifts when you don’t respond, “yeah?”
you still don’t know what to say.
his fingers tilt your chin up so you’re looking at him.
your brows furrow. “are you serious?”
sokka looks confused that you’re confused.
“i mean, of course i am,” he starts, totally calm, “katara and aang are already married.” he gestures vaguely, “so… we’re next, right?”
your heart begins pounding in your chest.
“i mean— not to rush you!” he adds quickly, “no pressure. but like… i like you. a lot. you know that. and i figured, eventually, right?”
you will your heart to behave.
you gulp. “sokka…”
he exhales shakily but still looks much too composed compared to you. a moment passes and uncertainty grows inside him, suddenly aware he might’ve said too much too fast.
“hey— shoot. you don’t have to say anything. i’m sorry. i’m not trying to freak you out.”
that helps. kind of. your hands are still clutching the furs like they’re the only thing keeping you anchored.
you take in a big breath, still trying to calm yourself down.
you try your best to get the words out but it takes a whole minute.
“no… um… i’d like that, sokka. it just caught me off guard,” you manage finally, voice small. “someday. maybe… soon?”
the second the words leave your mouth, his expression changes. his eyes widen a fraction, like it takes a second to process that you actually meant it.
and then his ears go red.
fast.
“wait,” you say, still a little shaky but suddenly more aware, “are you— are you blushing?”
“no,” he responds instantly.
you squint at him, a smile tugging at your lips.
he coughs into his hand. “i am not blushing. it’s just a little hot in here.”
you sit up a little more, and yep. he’s definitely blushing. a tinge of red is creeping up onto his cheeks the more you stare at him.
you can’t help but giggle.
“sokka!”
why was he so damn cute?
he looks away for half a second, then back at you, trying very hard to recover his usual smugness and failing.
“you can’t just say that,” he mutters.
“you were the one who started it!”
“well, yeah,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “but i didn’t think you’d actually agree like that.”
you grin up at him, unconsciously leaning into him again.
“of course i would. i like you a lot, too.”
sokka groans, pulling you closer. he’s still red and visibly flustered—but he’s smiling big because he can’t help himself.
“yeah?” he repeats, like he needs to hear it again just to believe it. his brows lift a little, stll red in the face. “you like me a lot too?”
you roll your eyes but don’t move away.
“yes, sokka. this wouldn’t me the 6th year of us dating if i didn’t like you. keep up.”
that earns a breathy laugh out of him as he pulls you in a much tighter like that answer unlocked something in his brain.
“okay,” he says quickly, trying to act normal. “okay, cool. good. great. yep.”
you laugh right in his face, “stop being so cute.”
his voice grows high pitched, “shut up. no i’m not!”
“yes you areee,” you sing.
“ugh.”
he stops trying to argue with words and goes straight for you. his hands come up to your face, thumbs brushing along your cheeks because he always knows exactly how to shut you up.
when you pout petulantly, his thumbs graze your lips.
but then a gasp jolts you out of the reverie.
“why are your lips still cold?” he asks, offended. “i thought i fixed that.”
you groan. “you’re so annoying, sokka.”
“whatever. this is unacceptable.”
“sokka—”
he doesn’t let you finish.
he kisses you without hesitation.
you let out an embarrassing noise of surprise against his lips. he immediately deepens the kiss as you part your mouth.
damn him. even after six years, he never fails to make your stomach erupt into butterflies. sokka lets out a satisfied sound against your lips af your reaction, not even bothering to hide it.
his grip cupping your face tightens just slightly. not rough, of course, just more certain.
the kiss grows messier by a mile, soft groans and wet lips echoing throughout the tent. your hands tangle into his tied up hair, pulling out both hair ties of his signature updo so you can rake your hands through his locks.
sokka’s breath catches, and this time he pulls back enough to exhale a quiet, breathy laugh against you. it’s warm, almost disbelieving, like he can’t believe this is his life.
and he has no complaints whatsoever.
his lips never leave your skin, pressing kisses along your jaw, your cheek, your chin. you shiver—not from the cold this time—tilting your head back to give him access when his warm mouth find your neck.
his hand slides down from your cheek, trailing along your shoulder. then your arm, then your side, until it lands on your thigh.
a soft, strangled noise leaves your mouth. his mouth brushes along the spot where your collarbone meets your neck, kissing a sensitive spot that makes your thighs clench involuntarily.
“sokka…” you sigh. you’re lost in the pleasure of each kiss when he pulls away to look back at you.
“yeah?”
you only shake your head, pulling him back in by tugging the roots of his soft hair.
he lets out a noise that brings butterflies to your stomach, before pressing his lips back to yours.
the next kiss is hungry and desperate. he rolls to cage you in before his hands grip at your thighs, pulling them up around his waist. it brings your body flush against his, and the friction has him groaning against your lips.
his fingers grip your waist tightly, and with immense ease, he flips you both over.
now you’re straddling him, out of breath, the furs tangled around your waist.
“mmh your lips are finally warm now…”
you only whine, annoyed that he’s bringing this up again and more turned on than you should be. he lets out a smug chuckle at the noise knowing exactly what he does to you.
your legs are trembling. the friction against his hardening length driving you crazy.
you pull back from the kiss, trying to catch your breath and restrain yourself. “i hate you.”
“you definitely love me,” he grins.
“mhm…”
you’re too far gone to be in charge of anything that comes out of your mouth.
he lets out another breathy laugh at the unconscious admission. he rolls his hips up against yours, letting you feel exactly how you’re affecting him.
you let out something dangerously close to a moan.
“yeah?” he presses another kiss to your jaw. “say it again.”
you blink through hazy eyes, “say what?”
his thumbs dig into your waist gently, eyes dark with want.
“say you love me,” he murmurs, breath hot against your lips. “because i love you. so much it’s kinda stupid.”
his grin is crooked, his cheeks suddenly red again.
your pulse skips.
you gulp, the 3 lettered phrase you want to say back heavy on your tongue.
“i love you too, sokka.”
his entire face softens, grip loosening. it’s almost like he’s hearing you say it out loud for the first time again.
“say it again,” he breathes.
you roll your eyes.
“i love you.”
he doesn’t even try to hide the way his breath hitches this time. his hands slide up to cradle your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks like he's memorizing the moment.
“cool,” he whispers. voice embarrassingly shaky. “good to know.”
you burst out laughing.
“oh my god,” you wheeze, falling forward against his chest. “you’re ridiculous.”
he hugs you tight, laughing into your hair—blushing profusely and holding you like you’re everything.
“shut up,” he mutters, voice muffled against your hair. “you’re the one who made me all mushy.”
you tilt your head up, grinning. “i didn’t make you anything. this is all you, sokka.”
he scoffs but doesn’t deny it. instead, he pulls the furs tighter around you both and settles back into the bed with a contented sigh—your body curled perfectly into his side.
“hey,” you say softly after a beat.
“hmm?”
“shouldn’t i introduce myself to your grandmother now?”
he groans dramatically.
“that can wait till tomorrow, princess.”
“no it can’t! you don’t want your grandmother to have a bad first impression of her future daughter in law, do you?”
his lips part and he lets out a heavy breath.
“oh shit. don’t say that. i’m gonna get hard again.”
“sokka!!”
ATLA taglist is now open!!
comment to be tagged in my future works <3
so i finally finished writing something after a month of not posting anything!! i’m sorry i keep doing this i swear i wanna be more consistent😓 also i was planning to finish the zuko fic you guys voted for first, but my brain vomited this heheh
summary: teasing your husband has become one of your wifely duties.
warnings: teasing, established relationship, fluff, spoilers (kinda);
a/n: hope u guys like it!
word travels fast. and zuko knows this.
the moment he enters his royal chambers, he already braces himself for what’s going to happen.
yes, he can deal with snickering servants or judgmental glances from his advisors… he can have the whole palace gossiping about him and he won’t be interested in that.
hell, even his chamberlain’s opinion doesn’t really matter to him, which definitely should, because aang’s letter disclosed something that shouldn’t have come to the light.
he can accept a lot of things.
but what he can’t accept, is you making fun of him. and he already knows what’s coming. you don’t even have to speak, that mean glint in your eye does it for you every time.
so before you can do anything, before you even open your mouth when he steps towards you, he raises a warning finger at you and points it firmly, making you frown and pause in place.
“don’t you dare,” he squints his eyes at you, expression serious, though there’s a hint of tension in his shoulders.
you raise your hands in defense immediately.
“what have i done?”
“it’s not about what you’ve done, it’s about what you were about to do,” he explains, pointing at you again, and you groan softly, rolling your eyes.
“you sound like iroh right now,” you reply amused.
“what is that supposed to mean?” he asks instantly, narrowing his eyes further, stepping half a pace closer without realizing it.
“that i don’t even understand what is happening,” you reply, tilting your head, still watching him carefully.
“so you haven’t heard?” he asks, voice lowering slightly, suspicion and curiosity mixing in his expression.
you blink at him, confused, hands now resting on your hips.
“hear what?” you ask again. “you are acting weird.”
he lowers his hand slowly, blinking a few times, studying your face like he is trying to figure out if you’re lying or not.
maybe you really didn’t know what happened in the throne room…
which… oddly enough, was a relief.
“nothing,” he says at last, shaking his head, trying to dismiss it. “it’s not that important anyway.”
he starts walking past you, moving towards the bed, trying to act like the conversation is over.
you follow him with your eyes for a moment, then lean slightly to the side, voice casual, teasing slipping in anyway.
“whatever you say… flameo hotman…”
there’s a second of silence.
he freezes mid-step.
slowly, his head turns back towards you.
his eyes widen just slightly in disbelief before his face twists in frustration.
“gaaaah! i knew it!” he groans, throwing one hand up as his shoulders drop in defeat, clearly exasperated as he realizes exactly what he walked into.
"Do you think she likes being with me?" Zuko asks Iroh one warm evening, both of them sheltered under the tall tree's green leaves. They cast patterns across the grass and the small table their tray of tea sits. "Do you think that...she minds all of this?"
"Why the sudden question?" Iroh asks in return, settling down his cup. "Did something happen between you two? It's normal, you know. To have the occasional argument."
Zuko shakes his head. "No, nothing happened." His face softens, the corners of his mouth lifting up slightly. "Everything's been so great, it all feels like a fantasy sometimes. I just..." He trails off for a moment, hesitant. "Before we met, she was so free and spontaneous. She traveled around without a second thought because no obligations held her down. It remained the same when our relationship started until we got married and..."
"Became the Fire Lady," Iroh finishes, understanding. "You fear that she may be resentful towards you."
The words make Zuko flinch inwardly, his hands curling into fists in his lap.
"I sometimes wonder if I wasn't the Fire Lord," he confesses quietly. "If I refused to take the throne and chose to roam the world with her. If I had been born a regular person who was able to indulge in my whims and then met her." He stares at the deep reds of his robes that lay messily over his knees and finds he despises the colour. "I just...want her to be happy and I fear I'm not making her that."
Iroh doesn't reply at first, his face showcasing deep thought as he looks up at the vibrant leaves. Then he looks back at his nephew and smiles.
"You love her so much that if she asked to be free of you, you'd let her go without a second thought."
Zuko stares at him, wide-eyed and mouth slightly agape.
"How did you—?"
"I'm your uncle, Zuko," Iroh reminds him. "We've also spent over the last decade in each other's pockets. I can read you and you can probably read me."
"Probably?"
"I'm also wiser than you," Iroh teases. "And my poker face is far better than yours."
Zuko scoffs but he's amused, Iroh can tell.
"I know her too, Zuko," Iroh continues. "I know that she would not stay if she were not comfortable or happy. Do you know why?"
Zuko shakes his head.
"Because you've nutured your relationship into something beautiful and trusting. You have not trapped her in a cage like your father did your mother. You let her speak her mind and feel her feelings. You value her opinions and take them to heart, using them in your decisions everyday. You show her that she is the most important person in your life in every little thing that you do. I don't know about you but I think that's a relationship worth staying for."
A moment of silence follows allowing Iroh's words to sink in heavily. Zuko swallows thickly, blinking his eyes suspiciously fast as he clear his throat.
"Y–you really think that—?" He starts slowly but is interrupted by your arrival. You're running into the gardens, robes hitched up so the hem doesn't trip you. You collide into Zuko's back, laughing when you almost topple both of you over.
"Zuko!" You exclaim happily, clinging to him and Iroh watches, fond, as his nephew immediately adjusts himself to hold you in his lap. His arms are firm around your waist and his expression, despite shocked, melts into pure affection.
"My Lady," he says smoothly, playful enough that it has you giggling. "What has you running around this evening? Did something happen?"
You shake your head, grinning. "Nope. I just thought about how I haven't seen you since morning and I missed you." You place a soft kiss against his cheek, rendering him speechless, before turning to Iroh.
"You owe me a rematch in Pai Sho," you declare, eyes glimmering and Iroh laughs, belly deep.
"Bring it out now and we'll see if you've learned enough to almost beat me."
"I'll go get the board." You place another kiss on Zuko's cheek, closer to his lips this time, before running out to grab the board.
"Still think she minds all of this? Still think she resents you?" Iroh asks but he already knows the answer.
The deeply in love smile Zuko gives in your direction is the biggest answer he can get.
❦ a/n — yall can have zuko, i'll stick by my husband aang
❦ word count — 1.4k
❦ content — aang x reader, aang x fem! reader, avatar! aang, adult! aang (the legend of aang - new movie - aang) , bickering, no title on the relationship so you can view this as married or dating or however!, might be ooc (i've never written for atla before and am currently on a rewatch so pls go in with an open mind), just two idiots being idiots in love. not proofread !
❦ synopsis — For all the tales that were written about the Avatar, no one ever mentioned that he could be deeply annoying when he wanted to be. Which, unfortunately for you, was often.
── ❦ i'll fight their doubt and give you faith
There were many stories people told about Aang.
They spoke of battles won without cruelty. Of nations rebuilt from ash and pride. Of the boy who had disappeared into legend and returned as the man who helped stitch the world back together with patience, mercy, and impossible hope.
They spoke of his kindness most of all.
How gentle he was. How wise he was for a young man. Just how calm he was for a man who’d lost his people at such a young age.
And those people had clearly never watched him argue with you in public over something completely idiotic.
Because for all the tales written about the Avatar, no one ever mentioned that he could be deeply annoying when he wanted to be.
Which, unfortunately for you, was often.
“You moved it.”
Aang looked up from where he crouched beside the stone path, one hand pressed dramatically to his chest. “I would never.”
“You absolutely would.”
“I’m hurt you think so little of me.”
“I think exactly enough of you. Maybe even more than you deserve.” You huffed, arms crossed as you looked at his smug face.
Around the two of you, the afternoon market continued in lively chaos. Merchants shouted prices over one another, steam curled from food carts, children darted between stalls with sticky hands and loud laughter. Somewhere nearby, a musician plucked at a tsungi horn while a pair of tourists whispered excitedly after recognizing the Avatar.
None of it mattered. Not when you were glaring at the line of polished pebbles arranged on the ground between you.
It really had just begun as an innocent challenge.
A walk through the market had turned into Aang spotting smooth river stones at a vendor’s stall, which had turned into him insisting he could still win at the old games you used to play as kids, which had turned into both of you kneeling in the middle of the road arguing over whether he had secretly nudged his pebble forward when you weren’t looking.
“You’re impossible,” you said.
“And yet,” he replied, smiling lazily, “you keep choosing to spend time with me.”
“That can be changed.” A few people nearby snorted.
The crowd had started small, just curious glances and slowed footsteps, but like always, the moment voices rose, people gathered. It was a known fact in the city by now: if the Avatar and his partner were bickering somewhere, it was worth watching.
A fruit seller leaned against his cart like he’d found free entertainment for the day.
A little boy in the front row whispered loudly, “Who’s winning?”
“No one,” his mother answered, ushering him away from the crowded area. “Some people in love just fight to fight.”
You pointed accusingly at Aang’s pebble. “That was not there before.”
He gasped. “You think I’d lie to you?”
“I think you’d lie to win. Against me.”
Another ripple of laughter spread through the onlookers.
Aang straightened to his full height and crossed his arms. “You know what this is really about?”
“Oh, I’m sure this will be stupid.”
“You hate losing to me.”
“I hate losing to a cheater.”
“Baseless accusation.”
“Your stupid face is evidence enough.” The childlike retort came out of your mouth before you could stop it. Aang’s face wasn’t stupid, far from it actually, but when games from your childhood came into play it was like you returned to the 12 year old girl you once were.
He put a hand over his heart again. “That’s so cruel.”
You reached for your pebble.
Before your fingers touched it, a tiny breeze skipped across the ground and sent it rolling two inches away.
The crowd gasped.
Your head snapped up slowly. And there Aang was…just looking at the sky, whistling.
“You did not just move my pebble!”
“What? You have no proof.”
“No proof?” You stood so fast your skirt swished around your ankles. “You moved it in front of witnesses!”
He shrugged. “Maybe the wind favored me.”
“The wind is you!”
That did it.
The market broke into full laughter, several people doubling over while others openly took sides.
“The Avatar cheated!” someone shouted.
“Long live strategic bending!” another yelled back.
Aang grinned, completely shameless. “See? Public opinion is divided.”
“Public opinion is wrong.”
You lunged at him. Not with any real violence aimed toward him, but enough to shove both palms into his chest.
He stumbled back two steps, laughing so hard he nearly tripped over a basket of cabbages. The merchant yelped something like my cabbages! and pulled them to safety at the last second.
“You’re a menace,” you said, advancing.
“And you lovveeee me.” The avatar teased, a grin on his face.
“I tolerate you with great effort.”
He raised his hands in surrender, still smiling. “Now who’s lying?”
You shoved him again. This time he caught your wrists.
Warm hands closed around them gently, familiar and easy. He tugged once, and because he was stronger than he looked and because you were not prepared, you stumbled straight into him. The crowd oohed.
You glared up at him from inches away. “Let go of me.”
“Ask nicely.”
“I’d rather eat sand.”
“That can be arranged.”
A playful gust of air swirled around your ankles.
You kicked at him on instinct, and he laughed again- that bright, unguarded laugh people crossed continents to hear and you got simply for threatening him in broad daylight.
It was unfair.
“People think you’re dignified,” you muttered.
“I am dignified.”
“You’re holding me hostage in front of a fruit stand.”
“It’s called romance.”
“No, this is called public embarrassment.”
He shrugged, “Same thing, sometimes.”
He finally let go of your wrists only to slide one hand into yours before you could step away.
The shift was so natural it almost startled you. One second you were squabbling, the next your fingers were laced together like they had been made for it.
The crowd, traitorous thing that it was, sighed in approval.
“Oh, don’t encourage him,” you said to them.
A grandmother near the back smiled. “Too late, dear.” And of course, Aang looked far too pleased with himself.
You narrowed your eyes. “You just love attention, don’t you?”
“I love your attention.” And there it was. That stupid, soft thing he did- slipping sincerity into your arguments full of nonsense so smoothly you never saw it coming.
Your irritation faltered for half a second. He noticed, naturally.
His thumb brushed across your knuckles once. “You’re blushing,” he said.
“I am not.” “Yeah you are-” You hit his chest, as best as you could, “I am not!”
He laughed under his breath, then bent slightly so only you could hear him, “You know you started this, right?”
“You cheated.”
“I gave you a real challenge.”
“Everyday you find new ways to annoy me.”
Despite your - what some would view as cruel and cold hearted - words, Aang smiled a lovesick smile toward you, “And yet everyday you’re still with me.”
Your mouth opened, then closed. He knew exactly what he was doing.
You hated that.
You loved that.
Which was worse…you couldn’t tell.
The fruit seller tossed an apple into the air and caught it again. “Kiss already or keep fighting, but pick one.”
The crowd cheered their agreement.
You buried your face in your free hand. “I hate this city.”
Aang squeezed your fingers. “No, you don’t.”
“No,” you admitted. “I hate you.”
The audience booed dramatically at your confession. Aang only smiled, soft and certain. “No, you don’t.”
Then, before you could think of a proper comeback, he leaned down and kissed you.
It was quick at first- teasing, warm, and infuriatingly smug.
You grabbed the front of his robes and kissed him back harder just to wipe that expression off his face.
The market erupted. Applause. Whistles. Someone shouted, “Finally!”
When you pulled away, breathless, Aang looked entirely too satisfied.
“You’re unbearable,” you said.
“But I won.”
“You did not win.”
“I’m kissing you, aren’t I?”
“That’s not the competition.” You shoved his shoulder again, though weaker this time.
He caught your hand, pressed a grin to your knuckles, and turned to the still-cheering crowd with a graceful bow.
“Thank you all for witnessing my victory.”
“You are insufferable!” you called after him.
He tugged you along beside him, already weaving through the crowd in the market streets.
“Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“There’s a turtle-duck pond nearby.”
“And?”
“I think I can skip a stone farther than you.”
You stared at him. Then at the crowd already preparing to follow.
Then back at the man you loved, “You are so childish.”
He offered his hand anyway, and of course you took it.
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