yall want fluff I will fill this freakin' site with SCORES of it cause AANG DESERVES IT.
The pale dawn light slowly creeps through the city, illuminating everything in a pretty hue of pale pinks and purples. Firebenders everywhere start to get up for the day, as they rise with the sun, feeling it warm them down to their bones and soul. Filling them with their inner fire, ready to take on the day's challenges.
All except for one.
Aang smiles down at his fiancée with whom he'd just been spending quality time with the night before. During the night you had shifted, as you always tend to do. He really needs to keep a journal of all the positions he's found you in when he wakes in the morning. So far, in his personal opinion, this one is definitely the cutest.
You were curled up like a koala-otter on him; your head resting on his stomach, face turned towards him so he can see your peaceful expression. Your knees are tucked up against his side, one hand resting on his toned chest, the other gently brushing his side. Spirits she's precious. He thinks, brushing the hair from your face. How did I get so lucky?
Part of him felt bad for waking you up so early, but another part of him, a small fun loving boy that never outgrew a love of mischief, grinned. Time to start the fun.
🍃🍂🍃🍂🍃🍂🍃🍂🍃🍂🍃🍂🍃🍂🍃🍂
You stir with an irritated grumble as you feel warm breath blow by your ear. Fricken gremlin, you think as you attempt to curl in closer to the body you've effectively taken hostage. The breath becomes laughter.
"Firebenders rise with the sun, snow blossom." a tenor voice mumurs in your ear.
"I," you sing song with your eyes still closed, "am part Water Tribe in case you forgot. And I hear the moon calling me. SO," you emphasize as if you were about to make a VERY important point, "you can go about your duties for the day oh mighty Avatar. I am getting some rest."
Aang barks out a quiet laugh, brushing his fingers lightly against your cheek. "I have ways of getting you out of bed you koala-otter."
You peek an eye open at him to see his face rather close to yours, those pretty gray eyes of his sparkling in the morning light with mischief. Before you can ask him what he means, he uses your own position against you; wrapping an arm around your chest, the other slipping under your knees. Bringing his knees up against your back, he effectively draws you to him, boxing you in. And you can do nothing to stop him from planting a gentle, but firm, wet kiss right on your ear. Keeping you cradled to him, as if he were carrying you bridal style.
You try and bat him away, though it's not very effective. "Aang, eugh, gross!" you laugh as he continues to nuzzle the side of your face, despite your attempts to push his face away. He shifts tactics, focusing on kissing your palms instead. "Menace!" you cry out grinning like an idiot. Chuckling, he brings his hands down to your side and your dark amber eyes widen in mock horror. "Aang...I swear to Agni if you-" your next words are a shriek of laughter as his fingers dance along your sides.
"You awake yet?" He teases, eyes shining. He stares at you very intently, as if he's actually concerned. "Hmm....I still see some fog in those pretty gems. Let's fix that."
You squeal as he shifts you so your front is to his chest, legs settling on either side of his waist. He kisses you full on the mouth, gently, but deeply. Cupping your face with his hands, rubbing his thumbs along your cheekbones. He breaks the kiss when he feels you relax against him. When you open your eyes, he's grinning rougishly at you, looking rather pleased with himself.
"Hi!" he chirps. "Time to start the day fire lily! We have to meet Toph remember? We got bad guys to track."
You roll your eyes as you attempt to detangle yourself from him, relenting at last to the call of the sun and your Avatar. "You're lucky I love you."
He beams at you as he stretches his arms high above his head. As he starts to get up, he looks at you, his eyes suddenly soft as clouds. "I love you for as long as the wind carries a breeze."
You blush but smile. That would be always with him around given his Airbending. Does he even know what he does to you? He has to. Right? You wonder as you watch him get ready for the day.
Part 1: Isagi, Chigiri, Rin, Bachira, Kunigami, Reo, Nagi
📝 Requests: OPEN
After months of talking about it, canceling plans, and pretending you’d “definitely do it next break,” you and your boyfriend finally found the time. No matches. No press. No chaos. Just a trip, something small, something together.
It’s early in the morning. The sky’s still dark. You’re both running on no sleep, dragging your bags and trying to act like this isn’t the most exciting thing you’ve done in weeks. Sleepy faces, overpriced airport food, and that quiet buzz of we’re actually doing this.
The trip hasn’t even started yet, but it already feels like a good memory.
💙 Isagi Yoichi
Isagi shows up exactly when he said he would.
4:57 a.m. on the dot. Hoodie on. Backpack slung over one shoulder. Hair messy in a way that somehow still looks good.
He doesn’t knock, just sends a soft little “I’m outside”
You’re barely awake when you slide into the car, still zipping your bag and rubbing sleep out of your eyes. He just laughs under his breath and takes your bag without saying anything.
The drive to the airport is quiet. Music low. His playlist, soft and slow. Your hand resting next to his on the seat, almost touching.
He points out how empty the roads are. You mumble something back. You’re both too tired to talk much, but you don’t need to. It’s not awkward. Just warm. Familiar.
When you get there, he grabs both bags like it’s nothing.
“Terminal B,” he says, already scanning the signs like he’s been here a hundred times.
You two checked in your bags and headed down to security. He bumps your arm gently with his and holds out a coffee he grabbed without asking. It’s exactly how you take it.
At the gate, you both sit down. He leans his head back against the wall, eyes half-shut.
You look over at him. Sleepy, quiet, content.
He catches you staring.
“What?” he mumbles.
“Nothing,” you say. “Just… happy.”
He smiles, reaching forward and gently taking your hand, that soft, crooked smile he doesn’t do for cameras
“Yeah,” he says, eyes closing again. “Me too.”
Then he pushes himself up with a soft groan, glancing at the screen.
“C’mon,” he murmurs, grabbing both your bags. “They’re boarding.”
You both get in line. Still quiet. Still close.
And even with your eyes half-shut and your body running on no sleep, you can’t stop smiling.
He’s waiting outside your place when you come down.
Leaning against the car. Headphones around his neck. Hoodie layered under a long coat. Hair pulled back in a loose tie. And somehow, even at 5 a.m., he looks like he belongs on a magazine cover.
You blink at him through the morning haze.
“You’re really not tired?” you ask, dragging your suitcase behind you.
He shrugs, takes your bag without a word.
“I’m used to early mornings,” he says, voice soft. “And I couldn’t sleep anyway.”
you know that excitement where you can't sleep? Yeah, he won't admit it but that's what it was.
The car ride is quiet. He scrolls through his phone with one hand, the other resting between you. You don’t say much. Neither does he. But every few minutes, he glances your way like he’s making sure you’re still real.
At the airport, he moves like he knows what he’s doing, checking the gate, guiding you through security, keeping close but not hovering.
You catch your reflection in a glass wall and laugh.
“What?” he asks.
“I look like I just rolled out of bed.”
“You did,” he says, smiling a little. “Still cute, though.”
That shuts you up real fast.
He finds your gate and sits next to you, legs stretched out, coat bundled under his arm like a pillow.
You both sip on drinks you didn’t need and snacks you overpaid for, watching people walk past.
“This is nice,” you say.
He hums in agreement, closing his eyes.
“Yeah,” he whispers. “And it’s only just starting.”
A few minutes later, he stands, brushing his hair back from his face.
“They’re calling our group.”
You get in line together, shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand.
And even through the exhaustion, it’s easy to feel wide awake.
Doesn’t text. Just rings the doorbell once and waits by the car, hands in his coat pockets, expression unreadable under his bangs.
You open the door with a yawn and messy hair. He looks at you for half a second, then says, “You’re late.”
You’re not. He’s just early. You don’t argue, you know how he is.
You get in the car and he pulls off without a word. The silence is easy. Comfortable. Just the hum of the engine and the occasional glance he throws your way when he thinks you’re not looking.
He keeps checking the time, even though you’re not running behind.
At the airport, he handles everything without asking.
Checks your flight. Carries your bag. Pulls you gently out of the way when someone rushes past in the terminal.
You don’t say anything. Neither does he.
But when he comes back from the café and hands you a drink — exactly how you like it, with your favorite snack, you look at him.
“Thanks.”
He shrugs like it’s nothing. “Figured you didn’t eat.”
You sit by the gate. He leans his head back and closes his eyes, jaw clenched, arms folded.
You’re about to say something, tease him, maybe, but he speaks first.
“This is good,” he mumbles. Eyes still closed.
You blink. “What is?”
“This,” he says, quieter this time. “Us. Going somewhere. Together.”
Your chest goes warm.
“They’re boarding now,” he adds, already standing. Already reaching for your carry on bag.
You both get in line. Shoulder to shoulder. Quiet.
And it hits you.
For someone who never shows much, he’s making this feel like everything.
You’re barely awake when you open the door. Hoodie on, bag half-zipped, one shoe untied.
And there he is, sleepy, grinning, at you like the sun’s already up.
“Goooood morning, sleepyhead!” he whispers like it’s a secret mission.
You squint at him. “Why are you so awake?”
“I didn’t sleep!” he chirps, dragging your suitcase toward the car. “Too excited!”
The ride to the airport is filled with soft music and random questions.
“What snack are you getting at the airport? What’s your plane movie? Can I sit by the window?”
You mumble your answers, not annoyed just tired, head leaning against the window, but every time you look over, he’s watching the road with a little smile on his face. Like this, just being here with you, is already the highlight of the trip.
At the terminal, he grabs your hand without thinking.
Pulls you through the crowd like he knows exactly where to go.
You both end up at the wrong gate once. He laughs. You glare. He buys you a muffin to make up for it.
“I’m gonna draw our airport outfits later,” he says while you wait in line for boarding. “You looked cute with bed hair.”
You smack his arm. He giggles like it didn’t hurt at all.
When they call your group, he grabs his bag and nudges you gently.
“You ready?” he says, eyes bright, voice quiet now.
He’s texting you five minutes before your alarm goes off.
“i’m outside. no rush.”
You look out your window and see him leaning against the car, arms crossed, duffel slung over his shoulder like it weighs nothing. Still yawning, but standing tall.
You come out with your bag dragging and your hoodie halfway on.
“You didn’t have to come this early,” you mumble, rubbing your eyes.
“I wanted to,” he says, grabbing your bag before you can argue. “Did you sleep at all?”
“Barely.”
He smiles like he expected that.
The drive is peaceful. You’re dozing in the passenger seat. He’s got one hand on the wheel, the other holding his coffee. The playlist is soft. Old songs you both forgot were favorites.
At the airport, he’s the one checking the gate. The boarding time. Your IDs. Everything.
He doesn’t ask, he just does.
You catch him watching you while you sip your drink at the gate. Just quietly. Like he can’t believe you’re actually here with him.
“What?” you ask.
He shakes his head. “Nothing. You just look... happy.”
“I am.”
He nods once, slow. “Me too.”
They call your group, and he stands, taking both bags like it’s nothing.
You follow him into line, shoulder brushing his.
And even though you’re half, asleep and running on fumes, it feels right.
Hair brushed. his outfit coordinated. Bag already in the trunk.
He’s standing by the car with your favorite drink in hand and the calmest smile on his face like he didn’t just wake up at four in the morning.
“You’re late,” he teases, but he says it gently, the kind of voice that sounds like he’s been waiting on you forever and didn’t mind one bit.
You slide into the car, hoodie pulled up, eyes barely open. He hands you the drink without a word.
He drives with one hand, humming along to the playlist he made for the trip.
“You excited?” he asks, voice low.
You nod, and he smiles like that answer was enough.
At the airport, he moves with purpose. Checks in early. Has your boarding passes printed and digital. Holds your passport in one hand and your suitcase in the other. You’re just there to vibe.
You point it out while standing in line for security.
“You act like we do this every weekend.”
He shrugs. “We should.”
You laugh, leaning into his arm. “You love this.”
“I love you,” he says, casually, like it’s not a big deal.
You go quiet.
He glances over and smirks. “Don’t get shy on me now.”
At the gate, he pulls you close, lets you lean on him while you scroll through your phone.
They call your group. He stands and grabs your bag without asking.
You had to call him twice, and even then he answered like he was still dreaming.
By the time he picks you up, his hoodie’s barely on straight, hair a mess, and eyes half closed.
But he’s here.
And the moment he sees you, he smiles, lazy and soft, like this is the only reason he got out of bed.
You slide into the passenger seat, and he immediately leans over, resting his head on your shoulder.
“Five more minutes,” he mumbles. “Drive yourself.”
“You’re already parked, idiot.”
He grins without opening his eyes. “Exactly.”
The airport is a blur. You lead the way. He follows. Quiet, dragging his suitcase with one hand and holding your sleeve with the other like he’s afraid he’ll float away if he lets go.
You stop for food. He rests his head on your shoulder in line. Barely speaks. Just leans on you like he’s charging.
At the gate, you sit. He lays his head in your lap. Looks up at you with tired eyes and zero shame.
“You excited?” you ask.
He hums. “Tired.”
“You can sleep on the plane.”
“Gonna sleep now.”
And just like that, he knocks out. Soft breaths, one hand loosely gripping yours.
They call your group, and he groans when you shake him awake.
“Already?” he whispers, voice raspy.
“Already.”
He gets up slow. Grabs both your bags without a word.
You get in line together, still yawning, still close.
And even though he’s barely awake, he smiles at you again.
Rude that I'm not being pulled back to bed into a girl's chest when I try to get up, my neck, shoulders, and back being littered with kisses as she whispers mindlessly and gently to me to ease herself and I awake.
