word count // 2.5k words pov // second warning(s) // fluff, possible angst if you squint, maybe poor writing again dedicated to WaterLilyNamine (thank you for requesting, love!)
reader is male, but you can alter it to be gender neutral.
this is a really long one! in my opinion, at least. i have so much fun writing it, but i kept being the perfectionist i am and kept rewriting parts. i changed slight details about the prompt a bit from your request, but not too much! it's still the request!
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You scoured for ingredients, muttering to yourself with a scowl permanently etched into your expression. You stood from your knees and brushed yourself off, growling when you couldn't immediately find of what you were in search. Being in the dark did not help much, but you wanted to ensure that you wouldn't get caught.
"(Y/N)? Where are you, man?"
And you were caught. You stuffed what you had already found into your pockets and turned, smiling towards the approaching male. "Hey, Sokka. I was just looking for tea leaves."
Sokka furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head, arm wrapping tightly around your shoulders before leading you back to camp. "It's the middle of the night? Why would you want tea now?"
"Cravings."
Sokka paused and turned to glare at you, clearly confused. "I thought girls only got those."
"You want meat all the damn time."
"Fair point."
You scurried away from Sokka after he excused himself to his tent. You searched high and low for the ingredients you needed in the woods, praying to whatever Gods or higher power you had to in order to obtain everything. You had to do it or absolutely nothing would happen.
Fortunately, you found everything and were quite pleased to find that when you returned to camp, Zuko was awake. You bounded up to him and sat beside him, taking out all of your ingredients. "Hello, my dear friend."
"Hey, (Y/N)." Zuko smiled his awkward smile at you before looking back at the fire he created. You organised the ingredients and counted everything out before Zuko cleared his throat. You glanced at him and he chuckled, "Do you need a pot?"
"Oh, and some water please. You are the best, Zuko."
When he returned with a pot of water, you had managed to shimmy-up a makeshift kettle stand over the fire, ready to boil the water. Zuko had learned that you were quite the improviser—quick on your feet and even quicker with your brain and mouth. You were best under pressure, it seemed. "What kind of tea are you making? It doesn't look like any leaves my uncle uses."
"My grandmother taught me how to make this amazing tea. It helped my mother whenever she needed it and after my grandmother passed away I made it for her. You can't have any, though," you quickly tacked onto the end of your spiel.
