#very fluff
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my silly fluffy boy
your honor, he is a good boy
#thebekashow#art#oc art#furry oc#fluffy oc#fluffy boi#he's a very good boy#he's very kumph to sleep next to#furry#fursona oc#void#haverlin#he's a fluffe boi#very fluff#you may pet him if you ever so wish
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Your s/o taking off your necklace
There are no names and no gender indications except for mentions of heels, so you can imagine this as whatever you want!
Disclaimer: SUPER FLUFF PEOPLE
You kicked off your heels with a sigh of relief, massaging your aching feet. Your s/o was right there, behind you, and you both shared a look and headed straight to your room.
You undressed in the room, as they did in the bathroom, and you had just fallen asleep when you felt the cool metal chain of your necklace pressing uncomfortably against your neck. You tried to reach it, but you couldn’t properly unclip it.
Instead, you waited in the bed for your s/o to emerge from the bathroom. When they did, you scooted over to the edge of the bed, wordlessly pointing to your necklace. They got the message but motioned you to stand near the window so they could see properly.
Their nimble fingers worked fast on the complicated clasp of the chain. They unslung it from your neck, but before you could head back to the bed, their arms had wrapped around your waist.
They rested their chin comfortably on the crook of your neck, nosing your neck softly. You smiled softly, lacing your fingers with theirs, pulling them impossibly close. They scooped you up in a sudden move, placing you on the bed.
They curved their body around yours, and you pressed yourself against the curve of their torso. You sighed happily and fell asleep in the arms of your love.
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Leap of Faith: Sokkla Saturdays 2022
Day 2: Each other's firsts
On FF.net//On AO3
Here goes day 2! This time, a standalone new story, and a Modern AU at that. Hope you enjoy!
We need to talk.
Never had he read a more ominous text message.
Sokka winced, covering his face with a hand. Was this really it? Were they, whatever they were, really over, after all this time? He supposed it was guaranteed to happen, in a way… though, with Azula being as she was, he actually expected her to show up one day with a tall, bulky, perfect rich boyfriend, with no recollection of ever having been Sokka's girlfriend… because she wasn't. Technically, she wasn't. He had never asked… neither had she. So, technically… they weren't really together. They never had been.
It was very strange that those thoughts would be comforting in the face of a message that sent cold daggers through his stomach, making him dread that he'd lose her, after all this time.
Still, what was he going to do, beg her to change her mind? To give him a chance? Maybe she had done this simply because he was an indecisive moron, and if that was the case, he certainly had it coming. But somehow, those golden eyes, beautiful as they were, made him feel so self-aware since the very first day they had found his own…
He was scared of rejection. Scared of losing her. Scared of a life without her.
Thus… she was the one who called the shots. She was the one who would determine the actual basis of their relationship, if there was even one to begin with. People constantly assumed they were dating… but he knew the truth, as did Azula: theirs was a casual, no-strings-attached sort of relationship and it always had been. So, whatever she wanted to talk about, he'd have to face it while being as level-headed as he possibly could hope to be.
He answered directly, curtly, without even a smidge of humor. Whatever she wanted, he wasn't sure he cared to lighten the situation somehow. If nothing else, the likely end of their romantic potential was better off mourned properly. She responded quickly, letting him know where they'd meet, and he sighed as he resolved to go to her once his afternoon classes were over.
He marched towards the university campus's basketball courts with his bag slung over one of his heavy shoulders, about half an hour after the sun had set. The local teams didn't train today, so it was the ideal moment to take advantage of the court and play for a few hours, practicing his shots in hopes of perfecting a tricky angle for a three-pointer… he actually expected Azula would be doing exactly that when he arrived, but he found her sitting on a bench right by the court instead. He bit his lip, approaching slowly, unable to help the instinctive fluttering of his stomach at the sight of her, as beautiful as she ever was.
"Hey," he said, simply. She hummed in response, arms folded, legs crossed. "Hope you weren't waiting long."
"Not that long," she said, simply. Sokka breathed deeply.
"Want something to drink?" he asked.
"You're buying?" she responded, immediately. He huffed.
"If you ask nicely…" he said, unable to hold back a smidge of teasing: she finally looked at him, her eyes so skeptical he couldn't possibly defend against their glare. "Okay, fine, gee. Can't even ask nicely indeed, can she? No, no, no…"
"Want me to beg on my hands and knees while we're at it?" she asked. Sokka couldn't hold back a chuckle. "Oh, you think it would be funny?"
"Funny because I don't think that's possible for you. You're too proud to do something like that," Sokka smiled. "Me? Oh, I'd be on my hands and knees for you any day, but that's because I'm a pushover and you're anything but."
"Right," Azula said, raising an eyebrow as Sokka set down his bag on the corner of the bench.
"Well, then, wait here while I get you a… coffee? Tea? Iced tea? Soda? Whatever you…"
"Whatever you'll have will do," Azula said, simply. Sokka raised an eyebrow.
"Not in the mood for anything specific, then?"
"Not particularly," Azula said.
She sounded nervous… anxious. As though she wanted to get this over with… and as though she wanted to delay it, too. If she really wanted to rush through it, she wouldn't have allowed him to treat her to a drink at all… he eyed her warily before marching up to the closest vending machine, tapping her favorite soda twice before casting a quick glance in her direction: her foot swayed back and forth in a rhythm, she seemed focused… she hadn't brought a basketball with her today even though they were at the court. She liked playing with him whenever they had some time off, this was a frequent meeting spot for them, especially on days when no one else was making use of the sporting facilities…
Sokka gritted his teeth as he focused on his task again. Well, so much for delaying the inevitable. Whatever she wanted, she'd get… he'd see to that. He'd always hoped to do right by her… and if this was what she wanted, he had no right to argue against it.
He returned, handing the cold canned drink wordlessly to Azula. She nodded in his direction as he took his seat beside her. They opened their drinks, they sipped them…
And in all that time, Azula didn't say a word.
"What did you want to talk about?" Sokka asked after he finished over half his drink, unable to mask his misery upon saying those words. Azula grimaced, glancing at him from the corners of her eyes. "I mean, you did ask me here to talk, so… what's up? Want to talk about the weather? Did your basketball get busted and you want to ask me to lend you mine, or…?"
"I… no," Azula huffed, rolling her eyes as Sokka eyed her with a raised eyebrow.
"Well, you're doing an awful lot of not-talking for someone who wanted to talk," Sokka concluded, and Azula growled softly under her breath. "I'm just saying…"
"You're annoying," Azula retorted, simply. He sighed: there was never any telling what was going through her mind. Was she upset? Was she irritable? Was she actually enjoying this conversation somehow? It was ridiculous that the last thing could be a possibility, and yet that was how difficult it was to read Azula most times.
"Well, what else is new. Been hearing that one from you since we were toddlers," Sokka said, breathing out slowly and relaxing on the bench. She'd talk when she wanted to talk, then. He had nothing to do but wait.
"Why are you…?" Azula said, gritting her teeth and eyeing him with uncertainty. "You're taking everything way too seriously for your standards today."
"Am I not supposed to?" Sokka asked, glancing at her from the corner of his eyes. "Want me to make a joke about our, uh, impending break-up? Because I don't really think I…"
"Our what? Did you just…? Break-up?"
Sokka's stomach dropped, and then his heart seemed to flutter. He raised an eyebrow, glancing at her in foolish hope…
"You… said you wanted to talk?" he said. "I mean… maybe that's not what you meant, but that's what everyone says when they want to break up, as far as I know, so…!"
"If I wanted to break up, I would've just said we're breaking up, I wouldn't have gone about it so roundaboutly…"
"Wait, what?! Through text messages?"
"Why not?"
"But that's…! That's mean," Sokka pouted. Azula shot him a skeptical glare again.
"What else is new? Been hearing that one from you since we were toddlers, too," she ridiculed him, but somehow, Sokka's chest hadn't lost whatever wild hope had taken hold of it, because…
Because she didn't want them to break up. She hadn't called him for that reason. She would have said she wanted to break up, bluntly, if that was what she had been going for… so it wasn't. It wasn't! They weren't over, so that meant…!
"Besides, how can we break up if we're not really…? I mean, we're not actually…" Azula said, with a skeptical smile.
"Oh. That's why it's not a break-up?" Sokka asked, raising an eyebrow. Azula huffed. "You know what? Just clarify this to me: whatever it is we are, it's not over, is it?"
"It's… not," Azula said, glancing at him furtively: Sokka disregarded the trepidation in her eyes as he let out a deep sigh of relief.
"Well, then… heh. I guess I freaked out for no reason," he smiled a little. "Want me to joke around now? Now that I don't think you're dumping me, I can definitely do it much more easily…"
"There's nothing to dump anyway, so… don't be ridiculous," Azula said, shaking her head. Sokka grinned at her.
"Alright, alright. What do you want to talk about, then?" he asked. Azula gritted her teeth, running a hand over her hair as she leaned forward. "Um… did someone die?"
"Of course not."
"Okay. You're not going to transfer to another university?" Sokka asked. Azula let out a soft huff of amusement as he shrugged. "Look, I'm just trying to get through all the possibilities that go through my head right now. Need me to stop guessing?"
"You probably should stop. You're not even close to the right track," Azula said, rolling her eyes as she leaned back again.
"Fine, then. I'll wait for you to say it," Sokka said, with a shrug.
That, he knew, was a dangerous choice to make: it was no secret that Azula's greatest flaws were her stubbornness and pride. Most other problems she faced seemed to stem from those sources, and their conjunction usually resulted in one very particular issue…
Said issue seemed ready to rear its head right then and there as the young woman opened her mouth and closed it again. As she shifted in her seat, breathed deeply, chest heaving as though she had finished running a marathon… and then she settled down again with what could only appear to be a disappointed sigh.
It was no secret for Sokka that she struggled with communicating anything other than solid, logical, blunt facts. She was certainly talented at mocking others, at ridiculing whoever earned her scorn, at unleashing sarcasm at the drop of a hat… but not so much when it came to conveying anything she deemed irrational. Sokka breathed deeply, suspecting immediately that whatever ailed her would be related to feelings… to sentimentality she typically scoffed at whenever she saw it in anyone else. She never failed to ridicule her brother for all his relationship drama, never failed to laugh during so-called emotional moments in romance movies, never failed to roll her eyes at people calling her insensitive for not being moved by a deeply touching scene in a book, a TV show or a heartwarming song…
Sokka had always suspected she wasn't truly immune to what she'd deem sentimentality, but perhaps due to having spent all her life mocking it, she was utterly appalled by becoming just like everyone she had laughed at since childhood…
And that meant she wouldn't talk about any such subjects easily. Hence her numerous attempts to speak, only for her to shut down quickly right afterwards. Zuko had occasionally called Sokka an 'Azula whisperer', as he somehow seemed to read through her when no one else could comprehend her thought process… Sokka, frankly, didn't think he did it all that well, but he certainly did better at it than Zuko, which Sokka thought wasn't saying much. Still, at a lack of a proper answer or a way to read through Azula now, he had to think of another solution, a way to break the deadlock in which she had trapped herself, with no apparent way out.
"Okay…" he said, and she groaned – her reaction came off to him as acute fear of failure now, of having disappointed him, yet again stemming from the pride that seemed to rule her every choice. "I have an idea."
"An idea?" Azula repeated.
"You didn't bring a ball, from what I saw, but I did. Kind of figured I'd challenge you to a game if you really wanted us to break up, see if I could beat you, and if I could… then I'd cajole you into not breaking up with me!" Sokka declared, with a proud grin. Azula's skepticism returned with full strength, and her previous discomfort appeared to dwindle for it.
"If that had been my intent, I wouldn't have agreed to those terms," Azula said, bluntly. Sokka grimaced but sighed.
"I suppose not, but hey, you said that's not what you were after, so… we can play anyway," he said, smiling again. Azula raised an eyebrow. "You're really good with three-pointers, aren't you? How about this: do a couple of throws, I'll stand back-to-back with you, as if I were keeping the opposite team off you… that way you don't have to look at me, and when you throw the ball, you'll gather the impulse to both get a three-pointer and tell me what you wanted to say. How about it?"
"That…" Azula blinked blankly. "That might not work."
"Maybe. But it's bound to be better to have something else to do rather than just fretting about what you want to say," Sokka smiled, leaning down to rummage in his bag and withdraw his personal basketball. "How about it?"
He wasn't surprised when she agreed with a nod– he knew her quirks and her preferences back and forth, and he had known all too well that being in the court, throwing hoops, would be likely to improve her mood when she was troubled. It was the way it had been since their childhood, and that reality hadn't changed much now that they were young adults.
So, once she finished her drink, Sokka handed the ball to Azula and they stepped into the empty court – the campus's night lights allowed them to play for as long as they pleased, even if night had already fallen. Azula stood at the familiar three-points line, dribbling as naturally as ever, while Sokka took a defensive stance behind her, arms outstretched as if he had actual rivals to fend off.
"Alright! I'm keeping them busy!" Sokka declared. Azula snorted, smiling at him from over her shoulder.
"Good for you. Such a good defense against our very intimidating, invisible opponents…" she said. Sokka snickered.
"See how reliable I am? I bet this is why they won't let men and women play on the same official teams, you know? If they did, heh, you and I would have taken every league by storm by now."
"Oh, I don't doubt it," Azula smirked, shaking her head.
She dribbled again, then took up the proper stance to throw the ball. A familiar, practiced stance – all her motions had been rehearsed until they had become second nature to her over time. She raised the ball, set on exerting the right strength, the accuracy, every bit of precision and focus…
The ball slid cleanly through the net, and she smirked proudly. Behind her, however, Sokka raised an eyebrow as she walked to pick up the ball that continued to rebound on the court's floor.
"You forgot something."
"I didn't…" Azula started to rebuff him… and then she remembered why she had been throwing a three-pointer in the first place.
She covered her mouth with a hand, shooting Sokka a worried glance before rushing to pick up the ball indeed. She returned to her spot shortly afterwards, and Sokka smiled a little as he up took his defensive stance once more.
"Remember this time…"
"I remember. Don't… don't talk to me," Azula huffed. Sokka had to stifle a chuckle at her bashful tone.
He didn't answer this time. He simply moved from side to side, hearing her breathing, her every single motion as she flexed her knees, as she prepared herself to throw the ball…
It rebounded against the ring, and not a single word left her lips.
Sokka blinked blankly, glancing at her over his shoulder as yet again, she stepped forward to pick up the ball. This time, however, she was blushing crimson.
"It's okay if it didn't get in…" Sokka said, and Azula shook her head.
"Didn't get in just because I was trying to focus on saying the damn thing and I… lost focus on the throw," she said. "Won't happen again."
"You know, you told me I should stop talking, but maybe if I did you'd feel more comfortable," Sokka said, smirking a little. "I could do some sportsy narrations, you know? Of the sort you hate…"
"Don't you dare," Azula hissed. Sokka snickered deviously as she took her position again.
"Well, I won't as long as you say what you need to say in the next throw. How about it?"
"Doesn't suit you to manipulate me and you know it," Azula retorted, dribbling and hoisting the ball again into a throwing position.
She breathed deeply behind him, and Sokka glanced over his shoulder, certain that she'd do it now. Perhaps he'd move around a bit, to genuinely simulate the hecticness of a game… but whatever happened next, she'd certainly share what she had been keeping to herself so far. The threat of hearing Sokka imitate the sports casters Azula couldn't stand – she would click the mute option at once whenever they watched any games– would surely suffice to convince her, she wouldn't hesitate…
He started moving from side to side, waving his arms the way he would have if there had been another team trying to get through his defense and to attack Azula. Behind him, Azula took a deep breath, heart in her throat as she focused both on the ball and her words, the words she needed to convey to him…
She jumped, arms outstretched, and tossed the ball powerfully just as she finally exclaimed what she had called Sokka here for:
"I want to have sex with you!"
The ball rebounded against the board, the inner edge of the ring, and slipped through the net successfully.
Sokka's pretense of a defense crumbled as though he were playing against a very superior enemy, even if there was no one there.
He nearly fell over forward, losing his balance, blinking himself awake from what had to be a ridiculous dream… because she hadn't actually said that, had she? The reason why she had called him here, the thing she wanted to talk about… was this?
He glanced at her in shock over his shoulder to find her frozen on the spot, head bowed in an unequivocal sign of embarrassment. She shrank slowly into herself, though… crouching and hugging her knees to her chest.
"Azula…?"
"Don't…! Fuck, I don't even know why I…! Don't say anything. Just… don't."
Sokka breathed out, watching her helplessly for a moment. His immediate instinct was to try and help her reason her way out of whatever feelings she was experiencing… but perhaps he should give her a moment first. He needed one himself, anyway…
He walked absentmindedly to collect the ball, his heart racing: had she truly called him here to say that? It was hard to fathom, it certainly was the last thing that had crossed his mind… and not because the concept hadn't crossed his mind. Oh, it certainly crossed it often, perhaps often enough that Azula would be disgusted by him for it… but he had never imagined the day would come when she would outright ask for this from him. He wasn't going to bring it up, no, let alone would he have pressured her into it… everything about their relationship had always been shaky, and Sokka had never failed to hesitate at every turn out of fear that she might lose interest in him eventually. The notion that they might reach this point eventually certainly hadn't been ruled out at any point in time… but she had never indicated interest in moving matters along in that direction. Sokka always imagined they'd have to be an established couple before so much as thinking about it… and yet today she had both confirmed that they weren't one, and said she wanted to sleep with him.
She was, without a doubt, the most confusing person he had ever met.
He returned to her, sitting before her this time. She hadn't changed positions at all, and even seemed to tense up further because he sat before her. His hand rose, falling gently upon her head, stroking her hair slowly. She didn't react in any way to his gesture, but he feared she would lash out at him sooner than later… once the stubborn pride kicked in fully, he suspected.
"Azula," he called her, softly. She shuddered, shaking her head impulsively. "It's okay. I heard you. I just… have a few questions."
"Well, I… don't have answers. So… save it," she said, breathing deeply. "Forget what I said, it's not important, it's…"
"It's very important to me," Sokka said: there wasn't even a smidge of humor in his voice, and she tensed up once she noticed as much. "I… I'm not taking this lightly, okay? And neither are you, I can tell. So… how about you tell me what, exactly, brought this about?"
"I… I don't think I can. I don't know, it's just… it's stupid. My head's just full of stupid nonsense, just… it doesn't matter. We don't… we can just go back to our dorms, forget about it, I…"
"I want to play a game."
His statement, so random and confusing, startled her out of her dismissing, self-deprecating reverie. Azula raised her head, eyeing him in perplexity: that he had spoken the words so seriously, with a light frown, rendered her speechless.
"It's an old game… we played it a few times, didn't we?" Sokka said, breathing deeply. "Just… not this way, we didn't. But we can do it now. How about it?"
"What game are you talking about?" Azula asked, frowning warily.
"Truth or dare?"
Azula's jaw dropped. Sokka offered her a weak smile as he raised the ball in her direction.
"This way, you get to boss me around, make me do stupid shit if you want to, while you answer my questions. How about it?"
"I… don't follow. How would we go about it?" Azula asked, eyeing the ball with confusion. "I… you know I pick dare every time, there's no point to playing this game if you want to understand what's going on with me. I mean, I don't understand it either, so…"
"We'll play it this way: if you score… it means dare," Sokka said. Azula frowned. "If you miss, it means truth. In my case, it'll be the other way around. Whenever I score, you get to ask me a question, and if I don't, you can tell me to eat my own shoelaces or whatever you want to…"
"I wouldn't tell you to do that," Azula said, grimacing.
"Right, because then if I dare you to kiss me, it'd be very unhygienic?"
"Exactly."
Sokka smiled before pushing himself up to his feet. His outstretched hand only remained empty for a moment, for Azula rose to her feet as well with his help moments later.
"Want me to start?" Sokka asked. Azula shrugged. "You can sabotage me too, you know? Try to block me, steal the ball, make me miss my shot somehow…"
"Sounds like you want a dare after all," Azula said, with a weak grin. Sokka's smile strengthened.
"I don't, but that does mean I get to mess with you when your turn arrives. My shot first, yours next, and we'll keep on taking turns until we get everything off our chests, alright?" he said, rolling the ball around his waist and raising his eyebrows. "Ready yet?"
"Of course," Azula said: her hand darted off to try to steal the basketball, but Sokka defended expertly, dribbling it away from her.
She forced him to pivot on one foot, twirling in a way that forced him further away from the ring: even so, his superior height saw to it that he could still feint to the right and successfully aim a shot, slightly closer to the free-throw line than to the three-pointer one.
The ball bounced on the ring, but it still slid cleanly into the net moments afterwards. Sokka snickered and hooted in proud triumph as Azula huffed, hands on her hips.
"Well, then, what shall it be, my lady?" Sokka asked, bowing pompously towards her. Azula raised an eyebrow at his foolish display.
"I'm tempted to say 'never call me that again', but unfortunately, this isn't a dare," she decided. "Truth, then?"
"Truth, indeed."
"Do you… think what I said is stupid?" she asked, frowning slightly. Sokka huffed.
"Stupid? Like hell it is. It's… it's a big deal. A really big decision and I… I was caught by surprise," Sokka said, clearing his throat. "I'm sorry if I didn't react the way you wanted me to, but…"
"I don't know how I wanted you to react, so don't worry about that," Azula admitted. Sokka picked up the ball, passing it at her by flinging it with a single hand – she caught it smoothly, dribbling slowly.
"I'm curious, if you want to know, and confused… and I'm definitely intrigued by the idea, but I'm way more worried about you than eager to do as you asked, alright?" Sokka said. Azula's eyes widened. "I know you're not exactly in the habit of communicating touchy-feely things with people, you've always hated that… but I really want to know if something bad happened, and if you're doing this for the wrong reasons."
"What are the wrong reasons?" Azula asked, with a weak smile.
"I don't know… being terminally ill and thinking this is your only chance?" Sokka asked, grimacing. "Being pressured into it by annoying people who took to commenting on your personal life and made you feel lesser because you hadn't fucked anyone yet? I don't know…"
"Heh," Azula smiled slightly still, and Sokka grimaced.
"Is it something like that?"
"Not particularly," Azula said, breathing deeply. "But it was your turn to answer, not mine, so…"
"Ugh. Fine," Sokka huffed, marching up to her threateningly.
Azula was ready for him, goading him with a slow dribble that picked up speed only as a taunt: she feinted to the left, then twirled quickly to the right, dashing into the key. Sokka followed, but her head-start ensured that she could speed up faster and deliver a layup that landed perfectly, bounding on the board's square in the right angle to slip through the net. Her relieved smile at the successful score made Sokka shake his head in disbelief.
"Dare, then?" he said. Azula nodded promptly. "Kiss me."
"How predictable," Azula smirked. Sokka shrugged.
"French kiss!" he added: her reaction was a burst of laughter that saw him pouting slightly. "Come on, do you want me to keep making it worse? Because I could! I totally could!"
"You do remember that we've done that a million times already?" Azula shook her head, marching up to Sokka with a slight grin. "You're a dork."
Sokka only had a small window of time to smile before Azula's hands caught his cheeks, pulling him in for a passionate kiss: she didn't waste any time with fulfilling his amendment, too, letting her tongue glide past his lips, taunting and prodding his own. Sokka's arms looped around her waist, and Azula indulged in that moment for much longer than needed – it was just a dare, wasn't it? She could have cut it short quickly after the first contact between their tongues, and yet…
Was she trying to delay matters? To avoid having to fulfill more dares and truths based on their game? Or was she, even, trying to prepare them both for the fulfillment of her earlier request? Sokka stiffened at the thought, and yet Azula kept going – her body leaned into him as she took full command and dominance between them. Sokka's hands rose to her shoulders, wondering if that alone would suffice for her to grow self-aware again… but the truth was that Azula's problems weren't to be found in physical affection. Somehow, they had settled into exchanging kisses of varying depth early enough in their relationship – even touching each other to a certain degree of intimacy had been perfectly feasible, and they had cuddled comfortably countless times, too…
The one real problem between them was verbal communication: on her end, out of her strange stubbornness and pride. On his end, out of fear that she might reject him if he said or did anything she didn't care for. They were perfectly well matched physically, and the kiss that rendered them breathless proved as much.
"Holy shit…" Sokka blurted out once they breathed heavily together. Azula chuckled, her brow against his.
"I've practiced this enough with you that I could go the extra mile with that dare just because. So… you know, make it a challenging one next time," she suggested.
"Uh… yeah, I don't think so. Just score again, I want to do that again…"
Azula laughed, complying even if it was against the terms of their deal and game. It was one way to go about heating up matters between them until they were ready to reach the next level, Sokka supposed… but that wasn't something he would do until he was fully certain that Azula wanted this for the right reasons.
As ever, the kiss ended on her terms – the reason being that tilting her head up caused her contracted neck to hurt, of course, so as ever, reason trampled over emotion entirely. Sokka didn't protest, cheeks healthily flushed as Azula picked up the ball and flung it in his direction.
"Snap out of it or you're going to fail this one," Azula warned him. Sokka giggled carelessly. "Or is it you want to fail, Sokka?"
"Honestly, Azula? I don't really care much about whether I get truth or dare," he said, with a shrug. "Though if I do fail, I hope your dare is…"
"It won't be another kiss. My ideas are much more nefarious than that," Azula declared, sternly. Sokka chuckled.
"I can't wait to find out what they'll be, then," he said, dribbling and walking back as Azula stepped forward, intent on defending properly this time.
He made to throw the ball, though he failed to trick her with another feint: Azula's hand struck the ball powerfully, almost causing him to lose it, so he simply fit his hands around it properly anew before throwing quickly, taking advantage of his superior height to do so…
The ball bounded against the board and, with a simple bounce on the ring, fell back to the ground, beyond the net.
"Heh, how careless and sloppy," Azula smirked. Sokka huffed, hands on his hips. "Now, what to do with you…?"
"Well, now, when you say it that way I actually get kind of excited, Azula," he teased. She scoffed in his direction and rolling her eyes.
"If that's so… then I have the perfect one for you: try to lick… your elbow."
"W-wait, what? Hey! No one can do that!"
"Hence why I said 'try'," Azula smirked.
Sokka pouted, but he raised his arm regardless and stuck his tongue out: it was a foolish sort of dare for sure, and if he had a chance to give Azula a reason to laugh, he'd do so… but he certainly had hoped she was going elsewhere with this dare when she paused at the word 'lick'.
After about two minutes of laughing at Sokka's failures to reach his elbow with the tip of his tongue, regardless of his best effort to do so, Azula finally cut him some slack and considered the dare had been fulfilled. Sokka glared at her sternly as she picked up the ball, and his defense was much more serious this time: without a referee to properly judge them for their choices, Sokka dared even wrap his arms around Azula when she tried to slip past him, a technique he resorted to on occasion to throw off her rhythm and amuse her, too. Even so, she turned around, forcing him to twirl with her as she attempted to throw the ball properly, regardless of his attempts to destabilize her balance…
The ball bounced away from the ring, and Azula's enthusiasm faded at once.
"Uh… oops," Sokka grimaced, releasing her from his grip and standing upright. "We can do it again, I'll be good now…"
"You don't know how to behave yourself, so… don't bother," Azula said, swallowing hard. "It was the point, though, wasn't it? To… to make me talk so, well, just… do it. Why not, right? Just… just ask."
Her devious calm had been replaced by nervous anxiety again. Sokka breathed out slowly, tightening his arms around her waist. Azula shivered, but she didn't shove him off her.
"Do you want me to dare you to do something more dangerous than a kiss next time?"
Azula's eyes widened. She glanced at him over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow.
"Sokka… I'm not a good sport when there's no referee, same as you," she said. "This is your one and only warning: either you ask what you really want to ask, or I'll take your very first question as what you want to know, even if it's a mistake on your part, so…"
"It's not a mistake. It's what I want to ask right now," Sokka said, with a gentle smile. Azula's cheeks flushed slightly. "Well? Should I go for something a little wilder than what we've done so far?"
"I… don't know. Only if you want to," Azula said, blinking blankly. "I mean, obviously there's limits, but… I expect your common sense will see to you understanding that."
"You trust me a lot if that's the case," Sokka chuckled, burying his face in her shoulder. Azula swallowed hard. "But alright… I'll try to think of a wilder dare than a French kiss or an elbow lick."
"That one was mine and it was much more amusing, mind you," Azula said, smirking. Sokka chuckled, pressing his lips quickly to her cheek before pulling away.
"You're too clever," he said, marching up to take the ball, as it was his turn next.
He thought Azula had mumbled something as he walked away, but he didn't catch it properly. He raised an eyebrow before leaning to pick up the ball, and she rushed in to defend the hoop as soon as it was in his hands.
His next shot slid smoothly through the net, thus, Azula had a chance to have a question answered. Sokka waited patiently, unsure of what she might go for, especially as her cheeks were slightly redder over whatever she was thinking of. He raised an eyebrow as Azula finally settled on a question, letting out a deep sigh before blurting it out.
"Had you ever thought about it… before I asked?" she said, without going into specifics. She didn't need to. Sokka huffed.
"I don't know if you want to know."
"Is that a 'yes'?"
"It's a 'way more often than you'll be comfortable with', rather."
The fact that she actually smiled took him by surprise: had she thought about it more often than he had expected her to, too? His own blood rushed upwards as he, yet again, found himself utterly mystified by the countless puzzles Azula ever presented for him.
"You'll have to be more specific," Azula said, and her smile gained a devious edge. Sokka chuckled, hands on his hips.
"You're something else," he said, smiling fondly at her. "Well, then… when we watch any romantic movies you find stupid, I think about it if there's a sex scene. I can't help but be an idiot who imagines us in their place, so…"
"That's very stupid for sure," Azula smiled. Sokka chuckled.
"Happens at random when I look at you, too," he said. Azula raised an eyebrow. "Want me to elaborate? It's hard to, honestly… see, I can be talking with you about something as common as whatever shitty meme compilation video I was watching on Youtube, and then you give me that judgmental smirk of yours and I just…"
"What, really?" Azula laughed. "Every time I judge you? Then that does mean you think about it every single second of the day…"
"Well…! Not every single second, but damn it…!" Sokka blurted out, blushing as Azula chuckled, throwing her head back in relief. "Ack, you just have too much fun at my expenses. Clever, wicked basketball prodigy, you…"
She chuckled still as he picked up the ball and tossed it at her, as good as marking the end of his answers: he had a rather urgent question to ask now, so he'd certainly make sure not to let her score in this round.
Azula attempted to dodge and slip past his defenses, but Sokka appeared to be taking matters much more seriously now: he timed his jump perfectly so his fingertips, if nothing else, would alter the trajectory of the ball… and so, it didn't even hit the board as it dropped on the ground, and Azula glared at him, all amusement gone as Sokka smirked in her direction.
"I hate it when you do that," she said. He shrugged.
"Perks of my teenage growth spurt. We were narrowly the same height once, but…"
"I know we were. And I'm still the better player even if we're not anymore," Azula said, stubbornly. Sokka chuckled.
"And you're still answering me with the truth, even if you are."
Her face twisted into a grimace as she glanced at him… to find him shy and insecure, to a fault. He breathed deeply, however, and raised an eyebrow.
"You don't, uh, find it disgusting that I thought about you in that light for a long time, and way more often than you expected?"
"Disgusting?" Azula repeated. Sokka shrugged.
"You know, men are gross, they're just thinking about sex, they don't care about anything and think with their penises…" Sokka recited. Azula smiled at him.
"Sounds about right, but I've been warned about that since ages ago," she said. Sokka winced. "If anything… I'd have been much more surprised if you'd said it hadn't occurred to you. I mean, we're not exactly… official or anything, but it would have been unflattering if you hadn't wanted to, well…"
"Oh, I want to sleep with you," Sokka said, bluntly. Azula's eyes widened, cheeks flushing. "But… eh, never mind, game on!"
"But what? Hey!" Azula gasped: Sokka grinned as he picked up the ball, dribbling carelessly away from her. "Don't dodge the issue just like that! Sokka!"
"Game on, I said!" Sokka grinned. "Come on, either you stop me or I'll score…!"
He threw the ball. It slid cleanly through the net. Azula eyed him skeptically and Sokka froze on the spot.
"You scored. So… truth, isn't that right?" she smirked. Sokka blinked blankly: "What were you going to say, Sokka? 'But' what?"
"Eh…" Sokka swallowed hard, lowering his hands slowly as he gazed at her with uncertainty. "I just thought… that you matter to me in too many ways, so even if I want this, I want you to be happy and safe far more. So… well, I always figured we weren't ready for that, and that's why we never really tried our luck with it? So… I thought you just didn't want to go for it, and until you did, I was happy enough to just… to be your friend. With, uh, some benefits, I suppose."
"Sounds like you need to switch plans for the full benefits package, huh?" Azula said, with a weak grin. Sokka chuckled at her odd joke.
"Well, if the full package is available for me to switch to…" he said, with a shrug. "I'll gladly do it. But… on your terms. Alright?"
Azula swallowed hard, holding his gaze as he smiled, walking away to pick up the ball and toss it at her. Azula breathed deeply, holding the ball between her hands for a moment that seemed to extent for too long. Sokka stepped up, poking the ball, nudging her through it.
"Hey? Next shot?" he asked.
Azula breathed deeply, glancing at the backboard again. Her fingers trembled before she took a shot, her stance off – the ball bounced off the ring purposefully, and Sokka glanced at her in surprise.
"Azula…"
"Ask what you really want to know," she said, unable to meet his gaze.
Sokka frowned but stepped closer, taking her into his arms so her face would rest upon his chest. He didn't know if he would soothe her by doing this, but he certainly hoped to try.
"What brought this about? Why now?" Sokka asked, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. "For the record, I'm not against it, if you're sure. But…"
"You don't want me doing this for the wrong reasons," Azula finished for him. Sokka nodded promptly.
She breathed deeply, burying her face in his chest – not meeting his eyes, it seemed, helped somewhat. Her inability to speak her mind, to truly verbalize what her feelings were, seemed to be genuinely frustrating for her. She gritted her teeth, clutching Sokka's shirt tightly…
"I… I want to know what it's like," she whispered, simply. Sokka raised an eyebrow, though his hands continued to stroke her hair reassuringly as she spoke. "I want to try it. It's… not much deeper than that. I just don't know how to say this without feeling like an idiot, though, I… I don't know how to move anything forward, I…"
"You're not an idiot for saying what you've said," Sokka whispered. Azula shuddered in his arms.
"I… I judge myself enough for it, even if you don't."
"Why?" he asked, softly. Azula let out a soft laugh.
"Why? B-because… we're not really together, are we? We're not… committed or whatever. We've known each other forever and this is… it's not something we've done before."
"Same was true when we first kissed," Sokka whispered. "But I suppose we had some rather annoying people keeping us locked in a room until we did it, huh?"
"Heh…" Azula swallowed hard, reliving that awkward moment in a party, so many years ago, when a certain friend had deviously schemed to make them kiss for the first time.
"Guess people don't do that anymore once you're an adult. We don't get to hide behind 'they made me do it', now, do we?" Sokka asked. Azula shrugged.
"We… shouldn't hide behind anything, should we?" she said. Sokka sighed and nodded.
"Honestly, we shouldn't… but I guess maybe we're still too immature to stop doing that," Sokka smiled sadly. Azula shook her head. "We have a lot of baggage and history here, so… if you're worried this could be a mess, well, it's fair enough to worry. You don't have to…"
"I don't… don't want to lose you."
Sokka's eyes widened.
She never said such things without feeling utterly foolish about it afterwards… and, of course, she cringed over her own words a moment after uttering them. Sokka, however, embraced her even more tightly.
"You won't even if we don't do this," Sokka whispered. Azula shook her head. "Azula…"
"W-we're not really… we're not… w-what if someone else shows up and…? W-what if you're a better fit with someone who's not…? Who's not an idiot who can't even say she wants you in her life? I… I…"
"Azula…" Sokka rubbed her back gently as she buried her face in his neck.
"I'm… embarrassing," she blurted out, and Sokka smiled fondly as he shook his head, pressing another kiss to the top of her head. "I sound like a neurotic, idiot girlfriend and I'm not… n-not your girlfriend. Maybe neurotic, and an idiot, though…"
"You're not, but the girlfriend part is… well, questionable," Sokka said, with a weak smile. Azula stiffened in his arms. "I-I mean, well… honestly, I never knew if… if you felt this way about me."
She didn't respond to his words. Sokka breathed deeply, rubbing her back reassuringly again.
"I got lucky that the mean girl who got me in trouble in preschool was my neighbor across the street," Sokka said, with a gentle smile. Azula actually let out a huff of laughter at those words. "Even luckier that she wanted to teach me how to play basketball at the hoop dangling over her garage door… and that she became the best friend I'd ever have. That she became my first crush, too…"
"I was your…?" Azula said. Sokka hummed.
"You're not about to say that's embarrassing, are you?"
"Well… it kind of is."
"Azula!" he squeaked, and she couldn't hold back a much stronger burst of laughter. "Honestly, girl…"
"I'm… somewhat sorry. Teasing you is always fun…" she said. Sokka smiled, shaking his head.
"Can't pretend that wasn't part of why I liked you, so… I forgive your devious teasing, you clever mastermind, you," he said, swaying in place with her. "Thing is… I never really dared ask you if you'd be my girlfriend because something told me you'd just say 'no'."
"I…" Azula stiffened in his arms. Sokka sighed, rubbing her back again.
"My own insecurities are to blame for that one, I suppose… but I just didn't want to come off as a cringeworthy idiot, you know? And the way you scoffed at all romance when we were teenagers, like it was so ridiculous that everyone was falling in and out of love… I suppose I assumed you were simply revolted by the concept of stupid teenage love, and I was afraid you'd just shut me out if I started doing the same things our friends and classmates were up to. That you'd think I was… well, as dumb as all of them too. I wanted to be on your team, you know? The… the cool team, heh. We were too interesting for that sort of thing, felt like…"
"At least, we pretended to be," Azula responded. Sokka smiled and nodded.
"I was okay with not ever being an actual item, you know? Even if you and I never really formalized things and got married and all that stuff… I was fine with it as long as I could still be with you. It felt like I didn't need to ask you if you wanted to be with me that way because, as soon as I started wondering if maybe we should be more, uh, conventional? You'd have one of those strange days when you'd just keep finding chances to pin me to the nearest wall and…"
"Heh. You did the pinning half the time, now…"
"Only if you started it," Sokka chuckled. He could feel her smiling, and his heart soared for it. "I've always… always wanted to do whatever you wanted to do. If you wanted me… then I'd be yours in whatever way you wanted me to be. If I did anything to piss you off… then I'd either fix it or stay out of your way until you were ready to let me in again. All this time, I…"
"You've just done whatever you thought I'd need… and you never really have slowed down to think about what you want, have you?" Azula asked. "Because… you thought I'd reject it. And… you were scared of disappointing me? Of displeasing me?"
"I… was. Still am, actually," Sokka admitted, with a sad smile. "And that's your cue: I'm embarrassing, aren't I?"
"You are," Azula determined. Sokka sighed, accepting the sentence he had already anticipated. "But… so am I."
"Well, that's nice. We can just make fun of each other for being embarrassing all you like," Sokka smiled.
"What do you want, then?" Azula said, swallowing hard. "If… if I'm embarrassing for being an idiot who can't string two words together where… where fucking feelings are concerned, then maybe learning to do it would make me less embarrassing, right?"
"Uh, maybe…?"
"So… so if you're embarrassing for not thinking about yourself and being scared of failure, then… stop being scared and just tell me. W-what… what would you want of me? What would you have us… be?"
Sokka didn't answer immediately. It wasn't a lie that he had never pondered that concept properly… because so far, they were just Sokka and Azula. They were two people whose lives had been intertwined by many coincidences since childhood, and they had gone on to build a friendship on the strangest foundations they could have found. There was no denying their mutual attraction, no lie to be spoken about their genuine affection for each other… so perhaps it was fine for him to be selfish for once. Perhaps he could simply say what he wanted to say… perhaps Azula wanted him to do so: what if she had only been waiting for him all along? What if all her dismissing of the typical teenage romances had simply been a way to hope to appeal to him… to try to show him that what they had was much more important, much deeper than the short-lived relationships that crumbled all around them, at the time?
He swallowed hard. His hands trembled. His lips parted as he leaned over to speak in her ear:
"I… I want to live my life with you. I don't care whatever we label it… but I know I want you. Not… not everyone's as lucky as I was, okay? Getting to… to know the love of your life since you were a kid? That's a goddamn miracle, so…"
Azula's arms tightened around him: it took him a moment to register it, but tears seemed to escape her eyes, filtering through his shirt. His heart pounded hard at the unforeseen emotional reaction of the most emotionally repressed person he had ever known…
"T-that's… so embarrassing…"
She said the words with a thread of a voice, so frayed by tears Sokka couldn't help but laugh as he held her tightly. He pressed another kiss to the top of her head and she continued to cling to him, as though to never let go: had she longed to hear those words for many years? Sokka had no idea if she had. But he had finally voiced them and a weight seemed to have been lifted off his shoulders now. Azula wouldn't let herself cry easily on any given day or moment, Sokka knew, and she'd likely shut herself down at any second now… but he held her anyway until her self-awareness returned, to put an end to her most unusual emotional reaction.
They stood there in comforting silence for about five minutes: Sokka's shirt was drenched by tears, but he disregarded the humidity of the fabric as Azula finally pulled back, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands.
"T-throw… another one," she said. Sokka raised an eyebrow.
"Say what?"
"Make another throw," she said, swallowing hard. "Last one of the night. Whatever happens next… is up to you."
Sokka blinked blankly at first, but he shrugged and made his way to pick up the ball again. It seemed Azula wasn't about to defend this time, so he stepped up comfortably to the free-throw line, and he frowned as he pondered what the right choice would be. Truth wouldn't be all that bad anymore, what did he have to lose by now, frankly? He'd told her plenty of truths so far and nothing bad had happened. Dare… it might be some embarrassing thing again, he supposed. Maybe he'd be able to improve her mood that way… but maybe she didn't want him to make his choices for that reason anymore.
Old habits died hard, though.
Sokka breathed deeply and threw the ball.
It arched smoothly on its way down… but it fell short by a few inches. Sokka glanced at Azula with a weak grin as the ball bounded on the ground, rolling towards the bench where he had left his bag.
"Well?" he said. "What's it going to be now?"
Azula's eyes seemed to glow under the campus's night lights. There was a most unusual expression upon her face… a vulnerable one that Sokka guessed meant she would try to say something difficult once more. Whatever dare she had in mind…
"Take me to… well, someplace more private than the dorms," she said, hands shaking as she spoke – it almost pained her to say things she likely found utterly ridiculous, and yet she pushed herself to say them all the same: "I dare you to… to go for it. I dare you to sleep with me."
...
Technically, everything might have begun when Sokka's family moved into the neighborhood – a four-year-old Azula and her six-year-old brother had watched keenly, through the windows as the moving trucks brought in the many boxes that belonged to the new tenants right across the street.
But for Azula and Sokka, the true beginning had taken place a few days later: Hakoda and Kya dropped off Katara and Sokka in the preschool early in the morning, and many other kids arrived later. Sokka, the troublemaker that he was, had stolen a trophy from the ball pit: a singular cerulean ball that he hoped to play with once he made a friend…
And as he glanced about the room, his eyes fell upon her.
She might have been smaller than Katara. Her hair was tidily combed into a small bun, with a fringe framing her delicate face. Sokka's jaw dropped as his attention focused entirely on her, without so much as noticing the boy beside her, who took off to find some of his friends right away, leaving his younger sister behind.
Without thinking twice, Sokka stepped forward. The girl raised her gaze in his direction. He smiled at her, and she didn't smile back.
"Hello," he said, simply. "I'm Sokka."
She didn't answer. She eyed him apprehensively.
He blinked blankly before deciding to take a more proactive approach: he showed her the cerulean ball, his grand trophy, with a proud grin.
Her eyes lit up right away. He snickered happily, and she clasped the ball, taking it from his small hands.
He only realized he wasn't holding it anymore after she smiled with abandon, gazing at the plastic ball as though it were her trophy now, instead…
"It's mine…" Sokka said, reaching out to grab it… but the little girl's smile turned into a scowl, and she refused to hand it over. "It's mine!"
She let out a threatening, angry groan that made Sokka pout: it was his ball! He had taken it from the pit himself, he had wanted to play with her…!
And in attempting to convey that to the girl, quite unsuccessfully, he found himself at the receiving end of a stern scolding by the preschool teacher, who had already told him not to take the balls out from the ball pit… though he wasn't the only one she told off. Azula, too, had been scolded, and she cried bitterly while shooting resentful glares at him. He, of course, returned the favor: he had wanted to be her friend! She was the one who had messed everything up by not sharing that simple, dumb plastic ball, not him…
And so, Azula hated him. And he hated her right back. But as they were children, grudges were complicated and simple in numerous ways: they would have good days at times, and then they would have terrible ones. The teacher's efforts to make them get along would go to waste more often than not, but sometimes, with no effort, she'd find them sitting together, doing their schoolwork perfectly calmly. Nobody could really understand whatever strange dynamic those two had developed, but it seemed to be a strange hostility, a respectful rivalry… at least, on the most part. And that was how everything had been through preschool until finally the two started primary school…
But the greatest change in their relationship happened outside of the school's premises: Sokka had been returning home after school when he heard the sound of a heavy, bouncing basketball across the street. It wasn't too surprising to hear that – he had overheard his mother raving to his father that one of their neighbors was actually a basketball star player, and Sokka had occasionally seen the older members of that family shooting hoops and even playing together by their garage entrance, where their basketball board hung…
But he had never seen the tiniest member of the family, Azula herself, throwing what likely was a very heavy ball for a child her size, all be it in the hopes of scoring at least once.
He approached the house's fence, supporting himself on it and watching as his very stubborn neighbor threw the ball with near frustration: it bounced back at her every time, but it never reached the right height.
"Why don't you stand closer?" he asked, simply: she jumped, glaring at him instinctively as she held the ball to her chest. Sokka huffed. "What? Think I'm going to take it? That's what you did, not me…"
"Shut up," Azula retorted, stubbornly. "You don't know how to play…"
"How do you know I don't know?" Sokka said. "I'm the best in PE in my class!"
"You're not," Azula said, simply, with no more arguments than that. Sokka stuck his tongue out at her.
"At least I'm better than your brother," he said… and to his surprise, she smiled.
"Zuko is a loser," she said, proudly. Sokka couldn't hold back a smile of his own upon hearing her certainty as she said that.
"And you're better than him?" Sokka asked. Azula nodded proudly. "Can you score? Have you done it before?"
Her pause suggested her answer would be a lie. She nodded, instead of speaking, and then turned towards the hoop once more, tossing the ball: yet again, it failed to reach its goal.
"Stand closer," Sokka said. This time, she shot him an awkward glance. "You'll do better if you stand closer."
To his surprise, she listened. The ball rose higher now, and it almost fell on her head once it returned to the ground, but she caught it anyway.
"Is the ball too heavy?" he asked. Azula shook her head. "You sure?"
"It's… fine!" Azula said, tossing it as powerfully as she could: this time she gasped when it went over the ring, bouncing on the board and returning to the ground without going through the hoop.
"Hey! You almost got it!" Sokka exclaimed, infected by her enthusiasm.
She tossed again, and again, and again…
After about twenty-five tries, the ball finally slipped through the net safely.
"You did it!" Sokka cheered, beaming as Azula smiled brightly at him. "You scored! That's so cool, Azula!"
"I… well, yes," she shrugged, picking up the ball…
She tossed it his way, even if the fence stood between them. Sokka gasped as Azula shrugged in his direction, once the ball slowed down right at the closed door of the fence.
"You want to try?" she asked.
Until that moment, he had assumed she'd never let him take anything that she believed was hers. He blinked blankly before smiling and nodding at her offer, and Azula unlocked the fence's door so he could come in to play, too.
They threw the ball for hours, one throw each, even if either of them was likely to try to sneak in one more throw on occasion. Sokka, as it turned out, had even less experience at playing basketball than Azula did… so they simply took to learning how to throw the ball at the backboard together, cheering whenever they scored, pouting whenever they failed…
A shiny, glossy black car suddenly slowed down outside the house, and Sokka winced as he immediately felt the need to run away: Azula's parents had come home already? Was it that late…?
Azula clutched the ball nervously before taking to pushing Sokka out of the car's path, into the front lawn of the house: her mother climbed off the passenger's seat, smiling in their direction before unlocking the garage's fence. Within moments, Azula's father had driven into the parking space safely, and her mother locked the small door again before turning to regard her daughter with a raised eyebrow.
"Training again, I see?" she said. Azula stiffened but nodded. "And?"
"I scored today! I did, Mom!" Azula exclaimed, running up to Ursa with the ball in her hands. "He saw it, you can ask him…!"
"Oh?" Ursa raised her eyebrows, glancing at Sokka next. He winced, immediately bashful, unsure that he would be allowed to be here at all even if he had meant no harm… "You're our neighbor from across the street, aren't you?"
"U-uh, I am. I'm just…" Sokka mumbled, shyly… and then Ursa smiled warmly at them both.
"It's good to meet you directly this way, then. I'm glad Azula made a new friend."
It was a completely confusing concept at first: friends? Were they actually friends? Their relationship so far had been conflict upon conflict… but Azula's mother believed they were friends. So perhaps… perhaps that was what they were.
"Is everything alright?" Azula's father spoke: he had only just climbed off the car, clad in a tidy suit that Sokka gawked at with astonishment. Ursa chuckled, glancing at her husband with a reassuring smile.
"Quite so. It seems Azula has finally scored, dear… both in basketball and in friendship, from the sound of it."
"Hmm," Ozai's eyes fell upon the little boy standing near his daughter. He raised an eyebrow before letting out a deep sigh. "You won't go overboard training them, will you?"
"What, me? Oh, come now, how could I ever…?" Ursa said, with a guilty smile that brought a genuine one from her husband. He shook his head, marching towards the front door… though he ensured to caress Azula's hair gently as he passed beside her.
"Good job, Azula," he said. Her eyes lit up brightly, cheeks flushed with delight as her father went indoors… and as her mother breathed out slowly, gazing at the two children once more.
"I have a good feeling about you two. So… if you don't mind, can you show me how you scored again?"
Azula nodded promptly: she didn't waste time showing her mother her very unprofessional posture and throwing technique, and Ursa laughed fondly as she knelt by her daughter's side, helping correct her hands and legs' positioning, and even giving her a few hints as to what to aim for in order to score. Sokka took mental notes of her advice too, thrilled to throw the ball whenever it fell in his hands, and ready to rejoice if Azula happened to score again…
Being coached by a professional female athlete certainly paid off: where Sokka had been boasting emptily about being at the top of his class in PE before, a few weeks of frequent training sessions with Ursa and Azula had seen him outdoing his classmates quickly, even Zuko, whose few attempts at joining their training sessions had resulted in him storming out in frustration over his sister and Sokka's joint efforts to annoy him. Hence, Sokka wound up befriending Zuko's sister sooner than Zuko, and the bond between them tightened constantly as they grew older and taller, becoming much more capable players and even inspiring several of their newer friends to join their school's basketball team with them.
They spent most afternoons together if they could get away with it, whether training in school or at Azula's house, and while the foundations of their relationship had been a most awkward incident in preschool, by the time Sokka was in third year of middle school, he and Azula were, without a doubt, best friends.
Ty Lee's thirteenth birthday party put that notion to the test in an unforeseen way, though.
"Seven minutes in heaven?" Katara repeated, perplexed by the girl's suggestion. "Isn't that…?"
"A game not suitable for eleven-year-olds!" Ty Lee squealed: Toph left perfectly willingly, making faces of disgust upon knowing what Katara wanted them to do, while Aang whimpered about wanting to stay… but the birthday girl had her own plans in mind.
It was safe to say that the only one genuinely thrilled by the concept of the game was her: half the boys appeared terrified, especially Zuko, while the girls were apprehensive. Ty Lee snickered as she readied herself to draw a boy's name and a girl's name for her mischievous purposes... but she ensured to draw the boy's name, first:
"And our first boy is… Sokka!" she exclaimed: he winced, cheeks flushing at being the very first one to be chosen.
"I don't know if… uh…" Sokka grimaced, eyes flickering from side to side: he glanced at Azula in sheer panic, an unpleasant tug in his chest making him want to tell her he wasn't interested in this nonsense at all, he didn't want to do it, of course not…!
But his bashful, awkward reactions amounted to nothing: Ty Lee tasked the other boys in the group – Zuko, Haru, Jet and Chan – with taking Sokka to another room in Ty Lee's family house, where he would have to wait for his partner to show up. Azula watched him go, a grimaced over her face as she dreaded whatever name Ty Lee would draw next…
"Of course, Katara's not part of this draw, no, sir…" she said, happily. Azula huffed, crossing her arms over her chest as she overheard to Sokka's protests, still dragged away by the others.
"Are you sure about this?" Mai asked, crooking an eyebrow. Ty Lee snickered.
"Of course I am!" Ty Lee exclaimed. "It's an ironclad, perfect plan."
"You don't do plans," Azula said, frowning and glancing in her direction. "Every single time I draw up a strategy for the team, you…"
"That's different! This is way more important than a game!" Ty Lee grinned: Azula's eyebrow twitched as she glared at her friend, who turned towards the bowl full of scrambled names once more. "And now… the girl who'll go with Sokka!"
"He's safely tucked away by now, so we're ready to proceed," Chan grinned with unabashed wickedness, as he and the others returned to the room.
"Are we sure about this…?" Haru asked, softly. Ty Lee giggled and nodded promptly.
"This will be perfect! You'll see!" she said. "We can even go wilder and not split boys and girls for the next round…!"
"Wait, really?" Suki asked, eyes wide. Mai huffed.
"Doesn't matter if I get a guy or a girl, I'm not doing any of the crap you want us to," Mai declared, sternly. Ty Lee stuck her tongue out in her direction, but she stuck her hand in the bowl…
And yet Azula paid more attention to the draw this time… noticing that she hadn't simply picked a paper at random. No, she had felt for something, she had taken too long to draw the paper, she… she had marked it, somehow. She was cheating! Whatever she was doing, the draw was illicit and Azula opened her mouth to say as much…
"It's Azula!"
She froze on the spot.
Her intent to reveal Ty Lee's treachery vanished as her friend grinned at her with encouraging glee. Zuko made faces of disgust while Haru seemed relieved – perhaps he assumed Azula wasn't the type to take advantage of the situation, and she wouldn't cause much trouble to the junior high's basketball boys' team captain…
"Come on, then! You know the rules! It's seven minutes of privacy, just for the two of you…!" Ty Lee squealed, setting down the bowl with the rest of the papers as she jumped up and down giddily. "It's exactly what you need!"
"We… what? Why would we need…?! Ty Lee!" Azula huffed as her friend clasped her wrist, dragging her down the corridor of her house: they weren't joined by the other party-goers, providing Ty Lee with a moment to smile knowingly at Azula.
"Come on, you two have had crushes on each other forever! Don't play dumb," she said. Azula scoffed.
"Playing dumb? I… I have no idea what you're talking about," she said: the redness of her cheeks didn't convince Ty Lee of the truthfulness of Azula's claims.
"You're so silly," Ty Lee giggled, stopping at the room Sokka was waiting in. "I'll be back in seven minutes, okay? And if you two haven't done anything…! Then it'll be another seven! You heard me!"
"Are you serious here?" Azula grimaced, as Ty Lee snickered and pulled the door open.
"Dear Sokka…!" she called him: the sound of her voice caused him to wince, and her devious poking of her head through the ajar door caused Sokka to shake his head violently, standing nervously in the small study as he was.
"No, no, no! You're not going to be my first kiss, Ty Lee, so don't you dare…!"
"Aw, your first? Saving it for someone special, are you?" she smirked deviously. "Well… here's your chance!"
She shoved Azula inside the room and closed the door promptly behind her.
Sokka's protests died down immediately at that.
Their eyes met, even in the dimly lit room. They knew they weren't supposed to be there, it was Ty Lee's father's study, and if they so much as tripped over any of his architect's equipment, he would likely kick all of them, Ty Lee included, out of his house for good. But there they were… and there they would stay for another seven minutes, it seemed.
"I… I'm afraid you're, uh, in an awkward situation," Azula said, with a frigid smile. "Ty Lee schemed to do this. I don't know what she got into her head about you and me, but…"
"Uh… w-well, whatever it was, I'm glad it's you," Sokka said, with a gentle grin of his own. "I was kind of worried, really. I mean, the way she talks sounds like she has a crush on just about every guy she meets, and I really hoped not to be one of them… freaked me out for a second that I might be."
"Doesn't seem like it, so… congratulations," Azula said, with a shrug. "Anyway…"
"Anyway?" Sokka raised his eyebrows, meeting her gaze with his own.
"I… guess I just have to warn you that she said she'll keep us locked in here until we do… 'something'," Azula said, rolling her eyes and running a hand over her hair – she had styled it today for some reason. It was Ty Lee's birthday, yes, of course she had to dress appropriately for it… but she had done so more self-consciously than usual. She had genuinely hoped to look good, and not just for the sake of projecting the right image…
Who was she even trying to impress? They were all friends from school, members of the boys and girls' basketball teams. She and Sokka were the captains of each team, the better players in their middle school… they saw each other constantly, trained together, played games against each other and even studied tactics together. If she wanted to impress him, she should have done it by showing him a basketball move he hadn't ever seen before… not simply dressing up, doing her hair, wearing a light perfume, filing and even painting her dumb nails…
Why the hell had she done any of that? Why the hell was she standing right here, in front of him, feeling her heart racing as she told herself that nothing could possibly happen, that nothing would, because he was her friend. He was her best friend. He was her oldest friend. There was simply no way Ty Lee's ridiculous meddling would change any of that…
"So… huh. You mean, if we decide not to do this…" Sokka said, frowning.
"We can always pretend we did so she leaves us alone," Azula said, with a shrug. "How would they know anyway? I can… I can take off some of my lipstick, rub it over your mouth with my hand, how about that?"
"She might notice you're hiding the smear on your hand if you do that," Sokka pointed out. Azula grimaced – idiot that she was, why had she put on noticeable makeup? To think such a foolish choice would bite her in the ass this way…
"Well, then… what do we do?" Azula said, eyeing him warily. "You don't think we should go for it, do you?"
"I… well. I'm not… going to say no if you don't say no, I guess?" Sokka said: his cheeks reddened and Azula frowned at him. "I mean! Well, it is my first kiss, and I suppose it's yours…"
"Of course it is," Azula huffed.
"Well… uh, well, maybe I shouldn't have said anything, then. Guess you're saving it for a big, special moment?" Sokka said, scratching the back of his neck. Azula rolled her eyes. "Or maybe not."
"You know I think that stuff is just… dumb. Okay? It's dumb," Azula said, shaking her head. "People will kiss whoever the hell they want, and some might kiss the same person forever while others kiss every idiot who's willing, so… it's all stupid in the end. I mean… what's even the point of kissing, really? It has to be so… so annoying. So uncomfortable. Like… having your face so close to someone else's? Who wouldn't be grossed out by that?"
"Grossed out… heh, well, I guess. But, well, for the record?" Sokka said, with a weak grin. "I wouldn't be grossed out by your face. Not saying we have to do this! Just… just clarifying one thing I figured was important, nothing more…"
"W-well… I mean, I'm not saying you're gross, just… ugh, this is so stupid," Azula said, shaking her head: her pride was flaring in just about every direction, and her heart was racing because maybe, just maybe, she would kiss him today… and why would that thought make butterflies flutter in her stomach?
"Yeah, well, it is," Sokka said, with a sad smile. "It's fine if you don't want to do it, though. We can just sit here, quietly, and…"
"And wait for Ty Lee's dad to show up?" Azula asked, eyeing Sokka skeptically. He winced.
"Maybe we should escape through the window…" he suggested. Azula snorted.
"You'd really risk a three-story jump to avoid…?"
"To avoid Ty Lee pressuring you into doing something you don't want to do? Well… sure? Don't want me to?" Sokka asked, raising an eyebrow. Azula grimaced.
"I'm not saying I… I mean, wait. Something I don't want to do? Just me? What the hell does that mean?"
"I mean…!" Sokka's cheeks flushed as he lowered his head. "Well, you know, Ty Lee's been threatening us all with this party the whole week, right? She… she said everyone was going to get kissed one way or another, beats me how she's going to go about making that happen, but… if she does think of any weirder games later, who knows who she's going to try to pair me with? So… you know, not the best-case scenario, but if I'm going to kiss someone for the first time today, I'd rather it's you. I-if you… if you would want that too, of course. Or if you think you could want that? Or… if you'd rather it was me instead of any of those guys, I don't know…"
Azula's chest tightened: he'd rather it was her? It didn't have to mean anything, maybe he just didn't like the other girls much. But there was certainly a possibility that he liked her, particularly, to some degree…
"That's embarrassing," Azula said, averting her gaze from him. Sokka sighed, hanging his head.
"I know, I know, I…"
He raised his eyes to find her cheeks were lit up with a rather unusual blush.
"Azula…?" he blinked a couple of times and she sighed heavily.
"Like I said, people just do this as if it's no big deal, right? Adults do it, and we'll be adults eventually. So… it should be no big deal for us, too. Half the girls in class do nothing but boast about their relationships…" Azula said, rolling her eyes.
"And you've always been so focused on schoolwork and the team that you don't really care for this stuff, right?" Sokka said, with a shy smile. Azula sighed and shrugged.
"I don't see the fuss. And I doubt I will if we do this, anyway, but… you're probably right. If we're going to do this, it's better if it's you."
Her tone, her nonchalance, suggested this didn't mean anything to her. And yet her cheeks were still red, and she kept averting her gaze. Sokka narrowed his eyes as though to scrutinize deeper into her motives, into her words…
"Azula…"
A knock on the door startled them. Azula glanced back at it in sheer panic until a sing-song voice drifted in.
"It's been five minutes…! And it's going to be seven more if I open this door and you two haven't done anything!"
Her devious giggle caused Azula to roll her eyes: yes, these games were utterly idiotic, she grew more convinced of it by the minute. People who wanted relationships should simply get into them and those who didn't shouldn't, and the ones who wanted to kiss others could just kiss whoever wanted to kiss them too… she didn't care about any of that, of course she didn't, and Ty Lee had no right to pressure them this way, but curses…
A stupid, curious part of her wanted to try it, nonetheless.
Sokka breathed deeply as he stepped closer to her – he was half a head taller than her these days. He had always been slightly taller than Azula, but puberty seemed to be doing wonders for his basketball build. He might even become tall enough to dunk the ball one day, Azula thought… maybe he'd grow tall enough to catch the eye of some other tall girl who would appeal to him, too. A strange burst of pride inside her compelled her to believe that stealing Sokka's first kiss would mean that, even if that did happen, this potential girl wouldn't get his everything… a stupid, petty thought, yet one that ensured she stood firmly on her spot, meeting Sokka's eyes.
"She'll come back, so…" he said. Azula gritted her teeth but nodded. "You're really sure this is okay?"
"I have no idea, just… get it over with," Azula said, bashfully. Sokka smiled a little.
"Then… close your eyes."
She did as he asked, trying not to tremble as she felt him moving closer: she felt his breath first, his warm presence moving in, his hands upon her shoulders, and she wanted to turn back and flee…
Then his lips touched hers.
Whatever she had feared before suddenly bloomed into an entirely different feeling. Where he had somehow appeared to overwhelm her with his proximity a moment ago, suddenly it felt as though he belonged exactly where he was, his lips against hers in that tentative, shy manner that she reciprocated softly…
He pulled back, and they opened their eyes.
"T-there. We kissed," Sokka said, his face crimson. Azula swallowed hard and nodded.
"Right. We… we did," she said, lowering her gaze.
It had been a long time since any conversation between them had been so awkward and clumsy… and Azula resolved to change that, raising her head again to look at him: a slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips, though he froze on the spot when he had her attention again.
"Don't think the seven minutes are up," she said. Sokka smiled and shrugged.
"Guess not. Otherwise she would've…"
He fell silent when her hand clasped his neck, reeling him closer: now it was Azula who led the charge into their second kiss.
They exchanged no words before the third: it was more than just a brush between their lips this time, a much more active kiss even if still a chaste one. Sokka's hands slid down to Azula's hips, her own arms locked around his neck, and with eyes closed, they gave themselves to a strange, heightened, extended moment of giving in to a simple pleasure of life, something they were certainly glad to be experiencing with each other…
A knock on the door again: Sokka winced, but Azula didn't loosen her hold on him.
"Either you get to it or you get to it, you two, there's no…!" Ty Lee exclaimed, yanking the door open once the seven minutes were up…
She fell silent, abruptly, upon finding the two team captains locked in a surprisingly affectionate embrace. Even from this angle, where Azula's head covered the actual action going on between them, it was clear that they were kissing.
That Ty Lee screamed happily gave away quickly that something was going on in the study. Azula's eager kisses slowed then, and she sighed before rolling her eyes at Ty Lee's reaction. Sokka smiled weakly, finding Azula's cheeks were as red as his felt, too.
"Guess she can't complain, can she?" Sokka said. Azula scoffed.
"Not like it's her business anyway," she said. "We should get out of here, though."
"Uh… right," Sokka gritted his teeth, and Azula clasped his hand.
She didn't guide him back to Ty Lee's bedroom, where the wild birthday girl screamed about what she'd witnessed. She didn't lead him to the living room, where Toph and Aang were playing videogames together, left out of Ty Lee's most thrilling birthday activities but having plenty of fun in their own way.
Instead, Azula led Sokka to the top of the stairs in Ty Lee's grand house, a location distant enough where, with any luck, they wouldn't be bothered. Sokka didn't protest as she urged him to take his seat at the topmost step, and he certainly had no complaints when she found his lips with hers once more.
It never made a lot of sense, as far as Sokka could tell, that someone as blunt in her dismissiveness of relationships would be quite so keen on kissing him ever since that day. It wasn't like it happened every time they met, but it would happen often enough that he'd find himself wondering if it meant they were a couple: he didn't dare bring up the subject, though, unwilling to displease her, unwilling to sound like all the classmates she found so annoying. If he dared say anything corny, she'd be certain to tell him he was embarrassing, maybe even gross, if it was far mushier than she anticipated… but somehow, he always seemed to understand that she didn't quite hate the things he said. Even so, his willingness to test the waters with any serious conversations diminished out of fear of genuinely causing her to think he was a lost cause… she'd said it all along, hadn't she? People kissed because they felt like it. There was no real reason for it to mean more than that…
No real reason why they'd sometimes cuddle while watching TV together, whenever they visited the other's house.
No real reason why they'd wind up making out in the school gym's storage room after putting away their basketball gear for the day.
No real reason why he'd ask her to go with him to prom in high school.
No real reason why she'd ensure to be accepted in the same university he had been scouted by.
They were friends. Closer than friends. They certainly liked each other a fair amount. Perhaps more than friends generally did… but that was it. There were boundaries they had not breached, could not breach, for pride ensured they wouldn't do so…
And yet now, almost ten years after that first kiss, sixteen years since their chaotic first conflict over that singular cerulean ball, they found themselves standing together in a small, cozy hotel room, gazing at each other with undisguised anticipation.
"Well. Step one complete, I guess," Sokka said, swallowing hard. "I… don't really know what we should do next, heh. We should be, uh, getting in the mood?"
"Right. Definitely looks like we're on the right track for that," Azula replied, bitingly. Sokka chuckled, a hand rising to cover his eyes.
"Look, it's not like I can't get in the mood, I definitely can… but I need you to understand this is surreal to me," Sokka said, breathing deeply.
"Losing your virginity is surreal?" Azula asked, amused. Sokka nodded promptly. "Come on…"
"Right, people do this all the time, don't they?" Sokka said, echoing her words from the past, if in different regards. Azula scowled in his direction. "It's what you said when we…"
"I know, Sokka."
"And then we ended up kissing all the time, so…"
"You're not about to say we'll… fuck all the time after this, are you?" Azula huffed, eyeing him skeptically. Sokka shrugged.
"I mean… think about it. This would be our first. We have no idea what we're doing, so… it's like being flung into a basketball game without knowing a single rule," he said. "After a couple of minutes of confusion, you might just start to understand how this goes… but then the coach switches you out because you're making a mess of things and you end up benched the rest of the game, heh."
"That sounds promising," Azula said, raising an eyebrow skeptically.
"Well, if you let the benched player try again after they get a feel for what they're doing… maybe they'll surprise you?" Sokka said, with a weak grin. "Besides, it's not like we had a clue of what we were doing when we first kissed, we literally figured it out by doing it like… well, a million times, so…"
"A valid argument, I suppose. If… if we're not entirely useless at sex, it's not a terrible idea to do it more than once…" Azula said, lowering her gaze. Sokka breathed deeply and nodded.
"But before we get to it… well, maybe we should talk some more."
"Heh. Now I'm the one who ought to have some crisis over you breaking up with me."
"You don't seriously think I'd ever break up with you, do you?" Sokka smiled fondly at her. "In your words: it's not like…"
"There's anything to break," Azula finished, eyeing him skeptically. He grinned carelessly in her direction. "Ugh, whatever. I… thought we were done talking. You know I'm better at the non-talking stage of things, so get it over with quickly, okay?"
"Well, we'll see if that works out," Sokka said, breathing deeply as he approached the bed.
He sat at the foot of it, taking off his shoes and tossing them aside. For a wild moment, Azula wondered if he wouldn't stop at that, but he did. Her heart raced stupidly – she had seen him in a swimsuit before, it wasn't going to be all that different from seeing him naked, curses...
She joined him by the foot of the bed, doing what he'd done just the same. Then, they sat side by side, in silence.
"Do you… want to play another game with me?" Sokka asked. Azula sighed.
"What kind of game?" she asked, simply.
"A much less amusing one. Might not be a game at all, come to think of it," Sokka admitted, running his hand over his hair.
Azula eyed him with uncertainty, her hands gripping the bedding with more force than necessary: why the hell was she so nervous? Her heart raced so wildly she might grow level-headed from that alone. Was it her own fault for delaying this as much as she had? For never figuring out how to have a reasonable relationship with him? It might be…
"How much do you know about, uh… BDSM?"
His words caused her eyes to widen: she shot him a disbelieving glare, jaw dropping as his face flushed immediately.
"I don't mean we'll do that! J-just…!" Sokka squealed.
"You'd be the masochist if we did. As proven by you asking that question," Azula huffed. Sokka slapped his face with a hand, a couple of chuckles spilling from his lips.
"Sorry. I know that was hard to believe but… listen, I've got as little experience with that as you do, which means none, but I heard that they have something called… a safe word?"
Azula frowned.
"I… do know about that," she said, glancing at him warily. Sokka breathed deeply.
"I'm not thinking about using it for the sake of whatever we'll do in bed… but for other purposes, instead," he said, swallowing hard. "I've gotten used to it, but… I'm starting to think that your embarrassment over all touchy-feely things may be hindering you in ways you never really processed before."
"You're psychoanalyzing me again, are you?" Azula asked, crooking an eyebrow. "Taking that class definitely wasn't a good idea…"
"It was good in the sense that it might help you," Sokka said, letting out a deep breath. "Look… I could tell you right now that I want to date you. That I want to be your boyfriend. That I want to be your husband one day. But I don't because…"
"Because… you think I'd say it's embarrassing?" Azula asked, raising an eyebrow: her face heated up merely upon hearing him say those words… and the implication of his hesitation floored her.
"Whenever I do something dumb, whenever I do something more sentimental than you're used to, whenever I praise you in any way that feels too mushy?" Sokka said. "You say it's embarrassing and I don't mind it at all, because heh, maybe I'm embarrassing after all. But… when it comes to serious things, it freaks me out that you might say that. I… I couldn't even fathom doing anything that might actually disgust you with me. And it turns out that, for all I thought I understood you, maybe I didn't understand you as well as I thought I did…"
"You… didn't ask me those things because you thought I'd say you were embarrassing," Azula said. "Then… shit. Have I been, well, hurting you every single time I…?"
"No, that's not what I mean…" Sokka said, with a sad smile, but Azula shook her head.
"I just… ugh. I don't know how to do this, okay?" she said, burying her face in her hands. "I suck at talking about this stuff, you've always known I do, and I'm an idiot for that. But I… I didn't want to hurt you, okay? So if I did… I…"
"Azula…"
"I'm sorry."
She seldom said those words. She certainly didn't say them with that much emotion whenever it happened, either.
Sokka wrapped his arms around her body, reeling her in for a gentle hug: she shook her head, yet again flustered, he knew, over her outburst…
"I'm… such an idiot, I… why the hell am I crying…?"
"You're not an idiot for crying, and see? This is exactly what we need the safe word for."
"S-so I can cry? That's stupid…"
"So I can say things without you immediately calling them stupid… so that you can say things without me making stupid jokes that make you self-aware, afterwards."
This time, his words gave her pause. Azula raised her head, glancing at him in confusion even through her misty eyes. Sokka offered her a sad grin, caressing her face gently.
"It's just an idea. If you don't like it, that's okay… but the point is for it to mean we get to have a safe space, a safe moment. Neither of us judges the other for anything in that moment, okay? We're free to say anything we need to say. Neither one will make light of the situation in any way… neither one will dismiss it as stupid or embarrassing. We can go right back to our usual state afterwards… but while the safe word is in effect, it means we get to say what needs to be said safely. How does that sound?"
"I…" Azula blinked blankly at his proposal, lowering her gaze slowly.
Judging… joking. Those were, truly, their typical responses to everything. Defense mechanisms… Sokka had rambled about those after he took that psychology class, and he spent about a week pinpointing all her defense mechanisms, to which she had only grown even more defensive and she punished him by refusing to kiss him again until he stopped – hence, he stopped. He had made matters into a joke… and she had made it sound stupid when it was anything but.
It should have been frustrating to realize that Sokka had seen through their emotional turmoil and the source of the flaws in their communication so effectively… a part of her, that gnawing, unnerving pride, urged her to be frustrated indeed.
But she wasn't.
It was as though something had clicked inside her heart… as though a possibility she had never thought existed had presented itself right now. She met his eyes again, finding him no less genuine and serious than he had been a moment ago.
"We… we'd choose a safe word? And then use that for… for whenever we want to take things completely seriously?" Azula asked. Sokka nodded slowly. "Doesn't just have to be about… well, what I dared you to do tonight, but about everything?"
"Yep. Anything goes," Sokka said. "If you want to confess that you hate the way I bake pancakes, well… you'd use the safe word and I'd have to listen and accept what you said, no jokes involved, no whining. Okay?"
"Huh… fine. Though you hardly bake the pancakes, you buy the premade mix anyway…" Azula mumbled. Sokka smiled and shook his head.
"No laughing is allowed, either. We're going to show each other so much self-control you'll be shocked it's even possible," Sokka said, caressing her hair. "See… Ty Lee used to ramble about something silly, didn't she? The… love languages, was it?"
"I never paid any attention when she talked about that," Azula confessed. Sokka bit his lip.
"Well, I paid a tiny bit of attention, but I think there's one that…" he said. "Uh… what the hell was it they called it? I mean, it's communication, in short, but still…"
He surprised Azula by pulling up his smartphone, a disgruntled frown on his face as he googled the concept in a rush. Azula smiled, watching his quick scrolling until he finally came across what he had been searching for:
"Aha! There! It was 'words of affirmation', see?" Sokka declared, smiling proudly as he showed the article to Azula. She raised a judgmental eyebrow… and then grimaced at her own instinctive need to judge just about anything that happened around her. She breathed deeply, trying to repress that urge as Sokka spoke. "Basically, it's just… verbal communication of your affection towards someone? Not something hard to grasp as a concept, but not something anyone can do easily. Me? I'm always worried I'll say something that will make you decide I was a waste of your time and that you don't want anything else to do with me…"
"Is that why you were so sure I was going to dump you?" Azula asked.
"Eh… honestly, I've constantly worried about not being good enough for you," Sokka admitted, with a sad smile. "Maybe I was wrong to, but I couldn't really help myself. So… I've basically held back from saying everything I think because every time I assume you might respond poorly to it, I shut my mouth. Whereas you…"
"I find everything embarrassing and I judge everything," Azula recited: even her voice was charged with skepticism she still barely knew how to shake off. "So… when I try to show even a slight amount of emotional investment in something, I… I cringe at myself, frankly. And it's…"
"Don't…"
"It's stupid."
"There's no need to say that, Azula, really," Sokka huffed. Azula sighed. "That's part of the problem, okay? Don't immediately assume everything you do is stupid, because then it's going to be a snowballing problem and we'll never sort it out…"
"Fine, then. I'll try not to, but it's not easy to stop doing it," Azula grimaced. "Anyway… you think we need to communicate and do all the fancy love languages or whatever you called them?"
"Well, I don't think we're messing up much with the others," Sokka said, glancing at Azula with uncertainty. "But see, this one's definitely giving us trouble. I don't think it's wrong for me to assume and state that we care about each other, right? So… it's in our benefit to be more honest about things. About how we feel, about what we want… and what you did today? It's a big step in the right direction, alright? So don't say it's stupid or judge yourself for it… it's actual progress, and what's wrong with that?"
"Nothing, I suppose…" Azula said. Sokka glanced at her.
"That sounds like there's something."
"Ugh, I don't… I don't even know," Azula said, dropping her face in her hand again. Sokka smiled sadly, shaking his head.
"Boomerang."
She frowned, glancing at him again. He grinned and shrugged in her direction.
"Our safe word. Not something we'd use in common conversation, right? If you don't like it, it can be something else. But if you think it's okay…"
"I… don't know," Azula admitted, eyeing Sokka with uncertainty. He clasped her hand gently.
"Then, once you do know… I'll say the word and you'll tell me whatever you're thinking. I won't judge, I won't laugh, I won't try to make you laugh. We'll be so serious it's going to be unnerving. So…"
Azula breathed out slowly: her hand clasped his, fingers slipping through his own. Her uncertainty lasted for a moment… and then she spoke the word:
"Boomerang."
Sokka nodded. He angled his body towards hers, and Azula kept her eyes focused on his chest: her lips parted, and her racing heart seemed to be about to break out of her ribcage…
"I… I hope it works. The safe word thing," she said. Sokka nodded.
"Me too."
It was a simple confession… but it was a good start.
Azula released a breath, leaning closer to Sokka by instinct. He did the same, so her brow would rest against his.
"I… don't know why I'm like this. I wish I weren't," she admitted, surprising him… but he kept his silence, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. "It's like… we could've had it all if I weren't such an idiot."
"You're not an idiot," Sokka said, softly. Azula gritted her teeth and sighed.
"It's hard to believe you… but I'll try," she said, trembling lightly.
They settled into silence briefly, still sitting together by the foot of the bed. Nothing seemed to happen… no harm came to either of them for what they'd said. No one had laughed, no one had judged… nothing had happened. It was a strange realization, perhaps akin to what children felt when they finally understood there were no monsters hiding under their bed… Azula shuddered at the thought.
"This is… weird. Nice, but weird," she said. Sokka nodded. "I… don't like being vulnerable. I'm not used to it. Guess maybe… that's the crux of the matter."
"It could be," Sokka agreed.
"What about you?" Azula asked. "How… how do you feel?"
"I'm scared," Sokka admitted. Azula winced lightly upon hearing those words. "Worried that… that this idea might not work and that I'll have to try to figure out some other way to communicate when we need to. But I'm… I'm worried I might fail at coming up with something else, too."
"This isn't failing so far," Azula said. Sokka smiled a little.
"I'm glad," he said. "But I'm still nervous."
"Me too."
They didn't meet each other's eyes as they spoke, their words spoken in intimate whispers conveyed so closely, as though they feared someone might overhear even if they were alone, isolated from the rest of the world right where they sat. Still… it was the most open they had ever felt. The most earnest they had ever been.
"I'm not sure how to get us started with…" Sokka said, swallowing hard. "With what you dared me to do. I really think I'm going to do or say something that won't sit well with you…"
"Like… what?" Azula asked. Sokka shrugged.
"Maybe… touching something I've never touched before and that you've never said I'm allowed to touch?" he said. "Or saying something too sentimental and…"
"Do you really feel… overly sentimental things about me?" Azula asked. "Maybe… you're as embarrassed about that as I am."
"Am I?" Sokka blinked blankly. "Huh… maybe? I mean, technically… you've been part of my life for so long that I can't help but be too sentimental, honestly. You were my first friend… my first rival, too, considering you stole that ball and…"
"And we were sworn enemies in preschool because of that," Azula smiled. Sokka smiled back.
"Then you were my first kiss… and without my full realization of it at the time, you were my first crush, for sure," he said, softly. Azula shivered. "And now… my first time will be with you, too. But I guess… the sentimental thing I wanted to say is that, even if you hadn't been my first in all those things, you… you'd be the one that mattered. The one that changed my world. The one I'd never want to let go. And… I just went and said it anyway, see? So… guess I'm about to find out if I'd displease you with my sentimentality, heh."
He dared glance at her… to find her eyes swarmed with tears anew. He felt an impulsive urge to comfort her, to take back any words that could have led her to cry… but he couldn't do it. Not right now. Not when that exteriorization of emotion, too, was one to be cherished and respected for everything it was.
He waited as she composed herself. She dabbed at the corners of her eyes, shaking her head, whether at his words or at her own emotional reaction, Sokka didn't know…
"I-is it… cheap to just say that I… I feel that way too?" she said, her voice charged with tears. "I…"
"It's not. You can say whatever you want to say right now," Sokka whispered, raising his head to press a kiss to her brow.
"I…" she said, shivering. "I…"
Whatever she wanted to say now, it seemed she couldn't formulate it yet. Tears threatened to spill again, and she seemed moments away from losing her patience at her own crying…
"Ugh, I…! I hate it when people cry!" Azula exclaimed. "It makes me uncomfortable… probably because I can't handle my own feelings, damn it. Because I don't know how to manage them, h-how to not react explosively to things…! It's so much easier to just… shut the door and pretend nothing affects me. Because when it does, I… I become like this. I don't know how to… how to still be me if I'm crying like an idiot, and I hate it when other people cry…"
"You're not an idiot… no one is for crying," Sokka whispered. "Frankly, nobody with sense likes crying, I'd say. It usually means something isn't right… something needs to be fixed. And it hurts, and it scares you, and it feels wrong in all the worst ways. So… it's fine to hate crying. It doesn't mean you can reject it forever, though… we all need to do it sometimes."
"And the more I refuse to cry, t-the more it will threaten to consume me when I do?" Azula said, breathing out slowly. "I mean, I suppose that's what people say about… about bottling up rage, too? So…"
"It's true for every emotion, I'd assume," Sokka said, rubbing her hands gently again.
"So I should just… stop holding it in? Even if I hate it?" Azula said, sniffing softly. Sokka shrugged.
"You're the one who'll make that choice."
"Do you do it? Crying…?" she asked. Sokka smiled.
"Not as often as I should, either," he said. "We're both a little stubborn about that, sounds like."
"Well… I suppose you understand, then," Azula said, brushing the underside of her nose with a hand before letting out a soft laugh. "Fuck. What a mood for our first time, isn't it?"
"I'd rather we're completely honest with each other on our first time than… well, I don't know, than having some kind of cinematographic sex scene like in movies or TV shows," Sokka said. "I mean… there's too much baggage here for us to treat it that way. We've been together for a while... and I want to think we will stay together for much longer, too. That is... as long as you want us to."
"I want us to," Azula said, softly.
"So… if I asked you to be my girlfriend, would you…?"
She nearly broke the spell of their safe word right then and there, and Sokka smiled at the grimace upon her face. He let out a soft chuckle, pressing a kiss to her brow.
"My partner?" he asked. Azula sighed.
"Sounds… better, I suppose. I'm sorry, I just… can't take 'girlfriend' and 'boyfriend' seriously. It sounds so… childish, I suppose."
"Okay. We don't have to use that," Sokka said. "But I guess something like 'lover' doesn't really… yeah, well, now you're blushing."
"That one just… it always sounds like it's connected to sex, I suppose," Azula said, rubbing her cheeks bashfully as if that would make the blood relocate elsewhere – when it would likely only make the redness worse instead.
"Fair," Sokka said. "Then… dating. Does it sound weird to say we're dating?"
"Well… maybe not," Azula conceded.
"I could get you an engagement ring, if you want," Sokka smiled. "Then you'd be able to call me your fiancé instead. Maybe that's better than boyfriend?"
"Well… it's somewhat pretentious," Azula said, though she certainly didn't seem to dislike it that badly. Sokka smiled.
"Does the meaning of it feel right, though? Because if it does… does it mean you'd marry me?"
"I…"
Azula froze. The comforting contact between their foreheads ceased as she raised her head to look at him in utmost confusion. His heartfelt, hopeful smile made her heart race even faster… and she couldn't even take back her words. She didn't want to. For once, it didn't matter if it was embarrassing… she didn't want to.
"Am I being too forward, delusional, or…?" he asked, at the sight of that apprehensive expression on her face… but Azula swallowed hard and shook her head.
"Y-you're… not. I… I would probably just… react like an idiot if you asked. Because that's what I always do, but I… I'd like it if you did. I think. I… I wouldn't hate it. I… I wouldn't mind at all, I guess."
"Huh… okay," Sokka smiled, caressing her knuckles gently. "So… how does 'wife' sound to you, then? 'Husband'?"
Her lips parted as she glanced at him again. He smiled a little, offering her a weak shrug.
"I mean, if we went through it, that's what we'd be, so…" he said. "Awful too? Too old, too adult, too…"
"It'd work."
It was Sokka's turn to be utterly flustered when Azula's words took him by surprise. She shivered as their eyes met again, and her hands gripped his even more tightly… but as awkward as it might be to speak, no matter if under the protection of their 'boomerang', she had dared do so all the same.
"I… I think I could do that. Being… your wife. It sounds… a lot better than girlfriend," she said…
And she even managed a small smile. Sokka's eyes widened.
"So… you'd do it?" he asked. "We'd… get married. I mean, it doesn't have to happen soon, but… but that's how you feel? You… you want to spend the rest of your life with me?"
Azula made a face – again, it seemed their safe word kept her from saying something she really shouldn't have, so she held herself back and focused again, breathing deeply to convey her thoughts one more time.
"I… never have imagined a future where I wouldn't."
Sokka almost yelped. He covered his mouth with a hand… and it was his turn now to feel his eyes flooding with tears. Azula smiled, perhaps amused to see him being no better than her, in that respect…
"S-see, I don't exteriorize my feelings often either, so I guess that's why I'm… I'm being too emotional now," Sokka said, with a light laugh as he brushed his tears away. "I… I don't know why I never imagined you'd… w-why I always thought you'd just find some better guy and I'd just have to… t-to be the best man at your wedding or something, I don't even know…"
"You even imagined my wedding to someone else?" Azula asked, amused. "Oh, that's enough. 'Boomerang'."
"Oops…"
"Sokka, that's ridiculous," Azula blurted out, chuckling and throwing her head back as she processed his words. "Giving me away at my wedding…! How did you not imagine our wedding instead? You're not trying to say you fantasized with…!"
"Wasn't a fantasy, more like a nightmare!" Sokka squeaked, wiping his tears… though he was infected by her laughter anyway. "I did try to imagine ours, okay, b-but then I just thought that…!"
"That I'd reach the altar and when the officiant asked if I wanted to be your lawful, wedded wife, I'd just say 'that's embarrassing' and everything would fall to pieces?" Azula asked, smiling weakly… though the grin waned quickly. "Though…"
"Wait. No. Don't say you'd actually do that…!" Sokka squealed. Azula grimaced, cheeks flooding with color. "Saying 'I do' isn't that hard! It's even shorter than saying 'that's embarrassing'! Come on, Azula!"
"It's not about how long or short it is, it's just… ugh, we'll need to work through this nonsense so much more than we already have before I'm ready for a proper wedding ceremony. But at least now you know I'm not against it, okay? And I… I would marry you. I would."
"You would," Sokka said, though he eyed her warily: "Though that doesn't mean we're engaged yet because 'I would' implies I have to ask, and that you'll say yes when I do, but that I haven't really done it yet…"
"Sokka…" Azula raised an eyebrow as he stared at her intensely.
"Azula: will you marry me?"
She froze up, and he didn't lose hope even so. It took her a lot of work to speak properly now that the magic of their safe word was gone… but after a soft sigh, and while refusing to hold his gaze, she finally whispered.
"Yes."
An unusual happy gasp left Sokka's lips. Azula raised an eyebrow at the sound as he smiled brightly at her, and her pride flared up again, as it always did… before he let out a relieved laugh, dropping heavily on the mattress, arms outstretched.
"Okay. Okay, that's… that's better," he chuckled. "Though… I suppose it's not completely official yet, not until I get a ring, but I can try to get one! And, uh, maybe I could propose again with all the grandeur that people usually…"
"I would hate it if you did, so don't," Azula said. Sokka pouted. "What? Big, public, pretentious proposals have always made me roll my eyes. It feels like the people planning those are more obsessed with being flashy and showing off their love in public than… well, actually loving the person they're with."
"Huh… well, that is true," Sokka conceded. "And to be fair, I never imagined you'd agree to marry me, so I never imagined what I'd do for a big proposal…"
"You don't have to," Azula said, breathing deeply as she stretched across the bed too, landing with her head upon his arm. "We can… go to a jewelry place together, if you really want us to get a ring. Easier if we get it together so we can be sure it fits, right?"
"Huh… very practical and reasonable," Sokka smiled. "Besides, that way you get to choose whatever design you like and I don't get to fuck up by choosing something you hate."
"Exactly. Though your taste in those things doesn't tend to be tacky, but still… safer this way," Azula said.
She rolled in the mattress, winding up closer to him than before: cuddling wasn't new territory for them, and after all their confessions from moments ago, it was even a comforting necessity for them. The realization brought Sokka to smile, sliding his fingers through her hair.
"Maybe the safe word is more accurate than what I thought it was," he said. Azula raised an eyebrow.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"That… after people who are into BDSM go wild and do whatever they do, it seems they have what they call, uh, aftercare?" Sokka smiled. "We just went on a bend of emotional BDSM, looks like."
"Oh, did we, now?" Azula smiled a little. "Guess that's one way to look at it."
"And now this is our aftercare," Sokka said: his arm locked around Azula as he rolled on his side, so he'd wind up embracing her fully.
Azula nodded, face buried in the comfort of his chest. His lips pressed reassuringly to the top of her head, and a strange feeling seemed to rush through her body as they did…
It wasn't as though she'd never felt safe with Sokka. She certainly felt safer with him than with anyone else. She never had anything to fear with him… for even if he did joke around too much, and she'd be the first to admit it, she liked that about him. She liked more than just that about him, of course… perhaps there wasn't really anything about him that she didn't like.
Which meant that her feelings were certainly much deeper than simply 'liking' him.
She smiled into his chest: maybe she'd be able to say the words eventually, at this rate. Even without the safe word, it seemed that nothing could possibly dampen the moment, nothing could weaken her certainties…
And those certainties compelled her to raise her head, and to join their lips in a warm kiss.
Sokka's arms tightened around her: as ever, it was so much easier to convey their feelings this way than by doing it through words. Her hands cupped his face, keeping him in place as their exchanges deepened… as their bodies rolled together, as words faltered in the face of the emotions they exteriorized in deeply different ways.
Her hand slid under his shirt, tugging it off his body slowly as he climbed atop her. He did the same with her clothes, and she tucked her belly in instinctively, her head thrown back as his lips kissed her sensitive neck. Her legs trapped him in place briefly so her hands could caress his muscular body, product of so many years of constant exercise. His fingers raised her shirt higher still, and the fabric rode up over her body, gradually exposing her to him…
He hesitated only briefly before touching her breasts: Azula ensured it was a brief pause by clasping his hands and pressing them promptly against her chest. His face flushed, but his attempt to apologize for nearly faltering got lost somewhere in the deep kiss she offered him: he kneaded her breasts slowly then, and Azula sighed in delight for it into Sokka's eager lips.
Everything felt right: the slow stripping of each other's bodies, the inexperienced yet successfully arousing caresses, the deepening, thorough kisses. Her sports bra saw to it that he wouldn't even need to worry about undoing a clasp by the time he was ready to remove it, and they acquainted themselves more thoroughly with each other's upper body first, taking as much time as needed to adjust to the intimacy they were accessing together now.
Their hands only dove lower once their hesitation revealed they had the same idea in mind: mutual laughter, followed by more kissing, preceded their newest endeavors. Curiosity and excitement led the way, as each slid a hand into the others' underwear, exploring what had been utterly forbidden territory so far. Little by little, their touch gained more confidence as their curiosity found new purpose… and they kissed fiercely, deeply, as their fingers prodded and rubbed each other's depths, gasps and light moans spilling from their lips as the mounting excitement strengthened further.
Their first releases saw them relaxing in bed for a moment before their sensual exchanges began once more, revamped and strengthened over a first successful climax – though Sokka had been quite perplexed by Azula's, repeatedly asking if she seriously had experienced an orgasm, for he had heard far too many horror stories regarding incompetent men in bed. She had laughed off his concerns… and she had taken his manhood into her palm a second time, pumping it gently to stir him back into a full erection.
She hugged him tightly when he entered her: her rushing excitement saw to it that she wouldn't be as overwhelmed by the new sensation as she could have been. He took his time for her sake, slowing down whenever he felt her tensing up, kissing her reassuringly as she nestled in his arms. Their gradual acquaintance with this level of intimacy compelled them to be as slow as possible, to make certain that they would understand their needs, as well as the other's, as best as could be.
Their hearts raced as their bodies adapted to the excitement, to the thrills rushing across their systems in the mounting arousal that eventually found its peak in Sokka first, in Azula shortly afterwards – he didn't stop until she had attained her own climax, and his determination to do so brought a genuine smile to her face. In other circumstances, that smile would have likely been accompanied by teasing words… but not right now. Not tonight.
They lounged in bed after it ended, still locked in a tight embrace, still exchanging tender kisses as the heat smoothed over their sweaty bodies. But where their kisses had usually been so difficult to gauge, where it had always been clear to Sokka that Azula enjoyed the physical sensation of them, he finally grasped her feelings through each exchange, too. Yet she didn't settle for kisses only, when it came to conveying them…
"Boomerang," she blurted out. Sokka pressed another kiss to her lips.
"Okay," he smiled: the typical insecurities that permeated him didn't even have time to rear their heads, to convince him that she might say something devastating… for she spoke her mind too quickly for them to do so:
"I love you."
Yet again, her words rendered him breathless. His arms tensed around her… and his lips curled into a blissful smile moments afterwards. Azula smiled slightly, too…
She didn't get a response for her confession yet, for Sokka's mouth was far too busy kissing hers for him to admit he felt the same way just yet.
After another round of earnest lovemaking, one in which the shield of their safe word would last until the very final thrust, he finally found the strength in him to speak anew. His genuine blue gaze bore into her own eyes as he hugged her tightly, as she straddled his hips this time, her hair falling as curtains at either side of her face…
"I love you, too."
Azula smiled, hiding her face away from him briefly, even if his hands caressed her hair still…
"Boomerang?" she said, again. Sokka nodded, and she finally dared look at him again, still smiling fondly at him. "That's… that's embarrassing."
Whether she meant it or not, whether she was joking or not, Sokka couldn't hold back a spree of laughter of his own. She collapsed on his chest, and they laughed the rest of the night away, completely enraptured with each other in the blissful, safe space they had finally built together… a place where jokes and judgment were no longer a problem: they knew at last that they had nothing to fear, for they finally understood and accepted the feelings that dwelled in each other's hearts.
#sokkla#sokka#azula#sokkla saturdays 2022#sokklasaturdays#modern au#I always wanted to write them into a setting like this one#first time I finally dared#I hope this is good#very fluff#very feelsy#very dorky
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I WROTE A PASTRY TRAIN FANFIC!!
it's a super quick one-shot i made at 5am in desperation to write caboose kissing donut. i think caboose is kinda ooc but idk. i think u all should read it though :)
#red vs blue#rvb#pastry train#michael j caboose#franklin delano donut#they kiss at the end (shocker)#VERY FLUFF#rvb fanfic#im still working on my big fanfic so hopefully i finish that soon (sighs)#bingdottag
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How it started vs how it's going
(top one is from today, bottom one is from about three - four years ago I belive)
Sketch below cut
The notebook sketch and stuff
#art progress#art#digital drawing#procreate art#oc art#my ocs#ocs#oc rpg#warrior cats#warrior cats art#warrior cats oc#warriors oc#cat oc#cat art#cat#very fluff#I just..... I like cats ok?
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Fluff
AGAHSJJDJFJGN SO CUTE I WANNA PAT
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nanami kento, who hates dating, and didn’t do much of it in his early twenties. but now, he’s almost thirty, watching all the people he works with settle down, have kids, and he thinks he wants that. so he might as well try.
so satoru sets him up on a few dates — friends of friends, he calls them. and at the end of every one of the dinners, kento goes home empty, exhausted, because he knows what they want is not the same.
still; he thinks maybe he’s being a little self-destructive, maybe too picky, maybe he just got so used to being alone. with satoru’s insistence, he gives all the women another call, invites them over to his apartment.
the first time was a disaster… kento had barely set the dinner on the table before his cat had hissed at her, scratched her down the arm in a thin gash. and though it did draw blood, it was hardly enough to warrant that reaction.
he didn’t even try to stop her as she picked up her bag and left, huffing like she’d been morally offend. kento, though, could only smile to himself in amusement.
because maybe kento was a poor judge of character, a man who was secretly hoping nothing would pan out — but his cat could certainly tell the good from the bad.
it became a little game to him, after that. seeing if anyone could win his pet over, and if they could, perhaps they were the one. his darling animal was a fickle thing anyway. a bit too defensive, quick to bite anything threatening after years on the streets.
naturally, no one came back twice.
he was close to giving up, accepting his solitude because he was tired of empty conversations over dinner. but then, he ventured out over the weekend to a new coffee shop, during hours he normally didn’t spend out of his home, and met you.
though you only talked for a moment, kento felt like maybe he’d known you in a past life. a part of him thought maybe it was strange, the way he kept coming back to talk to you, catching you at the end of your shift to see if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime.
by the second date, kento started to think you could turn out to be his best friend.
by the third date, kento wondered if soulmates were real.
on the fourth date, almost two months later, an appropriate time to get to know someone when you were as reserved as kento, he invited you over for dinner. it was, perhaps, the final confirmation he needed to let himself be with you.
he let you through the door, smiling softly as you told him about the book you were reading, and hung his coat on the rack. a moment later, you stopped, distracted, hands covering your mouth in a gasp.
“kento! she’s the cutest cat i’ve ever seen, you didn’t even show me pictures!” you exclaim, and, a few feet away, crouched down. “look at her pretty eyes…”
“careful,” kento said, “she’s not very—“
but the cat approached your outstretched hand, sniffed once, before letting you scratch her under her chin, purring loud enough for kento to hear across the room.
“shes such a sweetheart, you told me she was mean!” you smiled, making a cooing noise as you threaded your fingers through her fur. “kento’s a liar, isn’t he… you’re so precious.”
a few moments later, she snapped her jaw at you in a biting motion, and you only laughed, withdrawing your hand. “alright, i get it, i won’t bother you anymore.”
though she still brushed against your legs, just as she did kento’s, and seemed to communicate some sort of message to him.
“do you want any help cooking?” you ask, tucking your hair behind your ears. “i’m a disaster in the kitchen, but—“
“sure,” kento said, his chest tightening as he blinked back at you, only in his apartment for minutes and already looking as at home there. he wondered if it was possible to fall in love so quickly. “but only if you want to.”
#this is very silly#i just wanted to get it out of my drafts#i’ve had this thought for a while but#i decided i didn’t want to write a whole drabble so now you get this#kento being inexperienced at dating & not enjoying it is very special to me#and so is him having a cat tehe#selfship coded i suppose bc reader is me but it’s not that obvious i hope#beloved kento 💋 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆#nanami x reader#xoxo rylie 💌 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆#jjk x reader#nanami x you#nanami fluff#nanami x gender neutral reader
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𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 – 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮
synopsis. period piece, forbidden love
contents. ooc, angst (eventual comfort), yandere emperor!gojo, lovesick!gojo, servant!reader, obsessive behavior (5k words of gojo pining), lowkey unreliable narrator, time skips
notes. inspired by the apothecary diaries and this post. loosely based off of ancient japan (this is basically its own world). this is the prologue to the series where everything can generally be read as a standalone ! (fic under the cut)
series masterlist
emperor!gojo who broke a hundred year tradition to take you as his only lover. despite your role as a concubine, everyone in the imperial palace knew he was going to make you his empress.
emperor!gojo who had not meant to fall in love with you, but you have managed to somehow charm him. a man that single handedly brought his own clan to power– weak in your hands. hushed whispers around the imperial palace call you a witch, but they never reach your ears. not as long as he is alive.
emperor!gojo shamelessly showering you with love. he pays no mind that it is highly frowned upon, he will have his hands on you every time you are in the same room.
emperor!gojo who is livid when there is an attempt on your life. his usual ocean eyes turned to blue flames like a wild animal. servants and clan elders alike scurry under his gaze. the assailant is taken care of by his own hands.
emperor!gojo who is forced to satiate the clan elders into submission by taking in another concubine from an influential clan. he insists to you that it is no more than a political formality. who are you to meddle into imperial affairs?
emperor!gojo who can’t help himself and ends up falling for another girl who his clan elders demand he must wed. she is much younger than you, beautiful and is well bred; a perfect match for the emperor.
emperor!gojo whose frequent visits to you come to an end, forcing you to move from his chambers and back to the consorts’ pavilion.
There was a time when you had everything. A place to call home in the Inner Court, a beautiful palace with anything you could have ever dreamed of. Servants, admirers, riches; you had it all. But what was most dear to you was your lover– a man so divine, many thought he was directly blessed by the hand of God. It was too good to be true. A woman of lowly birth like you, paid as homage for the sins of her clan against the new reigning family of Japan, becoming a concubine of the Heavenly Emperor.
You remembered it all too well.
His brilliant mind that once strategized the downfall of the previous imperial family, calculating its next move in a game of Go against you. You can still remember the shock on his face upon his first defeat. The way he would keep you from leaving to fulfill your other duties until he was satisfied, eyebrows furrowing as he struggled to keep up with you. No matter how hard he tried, you remained victorious. It drove him mad.
You remembered the stolen kisses while you made your rounds in the Inner Palace with your ladies in waiting. It took you quite a while to learn to tune out their giggles every time the Emperor dips you down to taste your lips in broad daylight. The grin that he wore after was enough to leave your legs weak.
Above all, you'll always remember how safe you felt in his strong, reassuring embrace. You’ve seen him train, and it was no wonder the Gojo clan rose to power so quickly as a result of one man. The way he wields the katana is unlike any man on the face of the earth. Those arms were your sanctuary. You can still vividly recall the attempt on your life, orchestrated by a traditionalist incensed by the Gojo clan's swift ascent to power. The emperor, outraged by the assassination plot, personally saw to the man's execution.
However, the damage was done and it caused great strain in the Imperial Palace.
To appease the old geezers that were forced out of power, Emperor Gojo had taken in another concubine from one of the Big Three families of Japan— a beautiful Zenin girl. Her flowing, silky hair and saccharine voice enchanted everyone in the Inner Palace, captivating the Emperor, most of all. She was younger than you, with perkier breasts and soft skin that was enough to capture the attention of any man.
You don’t blame her for taking the Emperor’s attention away. Though you would be a liar if you said it did not hurt you. Deep down, you cannot deny the agony that sears your soul, realizing that the only semblance of love you've ever tasted remains unrequited. With a heavy heart, you resign yourself to the bitter truth of your existence, knowing all too well the cruel confines of your place in this world.
You were merely a pawn, and the Emperor did not want you anymore.
That was made clear months later when you received a scroll from the Emperor’s advisor, a man you were once well acquainted with, Geto Suguru.
“What is this?” You asked him quietly, your heart silently begging the Heavens it was not what you had suspected it to be. The black haired man in front of you does not respond, and you feel something pierce into your heart. Despite being a part of the Emperor’s court, it was rare that you received letters directly.
Your suspicions were confirmed when your shaky hands finally opened the scroll to read the familiar kanji written by your beloved.
“The Emperor decrees the termination of your role as concubine." Geto spares you the trouble of deciphering the characters neatly written in ink. “In his mercy, you are to be moved as a servant in the Outer Court. You are to serve the Imperial Physician.”
What you remember most was the silence. The Emperor’s silence after the stressful months you had to endure alone. The silence shared between you and Geto when you were forced out of the Imperial Court. All that was left was the sound of your heart breaking and the wood creaking underneath Geto’s feet as he walked away.
Satoru never bothered to see you off.
Seasons change and by the next spring, you’re busying your hands with collecting herbs for the Imperial Physician, a man by the name of Yaga Masamichi. He is a kind man, pitying you enough to fill your days with laborious tasks to prevent your mind from wandering to thoughts of the unfortunate turn your life has taken. He is even generous enough to supply you with a new wardrobe of clothing full of light fabrics, a luxury you thought you would lose in the Outer Palace. Though the initial humiliation has worn off with the passing of time, you are still constantly reminded of your fall from grace.
Looks by the mix of condolences and disgust are shared when you roam the walls of the Outer Palace. You hear whispers of how the Emperor is infatuated with his newer, shinier toy. It is enough for you to swallow the bile that makes its way up your throat.
“It is no wonder the Emperor tossed away a wildflower like her in exchange for a cherry blossom. He needed someone to rival his own greatness.” A particular comment stopped you in your tracks. Your grip tightens on the woven basket in your hand filled with medicinal herbs you had collected earlier that morning.
“Have some pity on her.” Another eunuch whispers. Your breath falters, but you continue your walk with your head held up. You’ve heard the rumors. The beautiful Zenin Himiko has charmed the Emperor enough that there are rumors of a royal marriage to come. It doesn’t help that the Emperor has remained monogamous to her since he had banished you from his court.
A comforting hand links itself with your arm, “Ignore them. I saw Yaga shooing away a crowd of suitors that were lined up for your hand.” Ieiri Shoko scoffs, secretly sending you a wink. She has been studying medicine under Yaga for nearly a decade, eagerly accepting you as a companion upon your arrival. You feel your cheeks heat up at her flattery. You know she’s just trying to make you feel better.
Although your beauty never faded, it seems as though you are no longer sought after in the marriage market. Not that it matters, considering the new life that you’re living. You’re now a personal servant to the Imperial Physician, leaving no time to worry about suitors and such. Your days are filled with good work— tending to Yaga’s cherished garden that he has sowed for decades rather than frivolous games and attending the Emperor. It may not be glorious compared to your former life, but it was the best a woman of your status could receive.
When you and Shoko return to Yaga’s estate, you’re surprised to see the somber look that has settled on his aging features. Shoko makes an offhand comment that he will age faster if he keeps scowling. She receives a scolding.
“Is something the matter?” You gently place down your basket full of herbs.
Yaga sighs, calloused hands rolling up a scroll with the Imperial Seal. “It appears the Emperor’s consort has fallen ill and His Majesty commands my presence in the Imperial Palace.”
The Royal Consort. The woman that dethroned you: Zenin Himiko.
“I understand.” You nod, maintaining your composure while two sets of eyes scrutinize you with keen observation. It was only natural the emperor wanted the best doctor in the country for his object of affection. “Shall I close up the shop while you journey into the Inner Palace?”
Yaga shakes his head, “That won’t be necessary. I will have Shoko act as my stand-in.” He remarks with a quick glance in her direction “You, on the other hand, will accompany me.”
Your eyes widen.
“You cannot be serious.”
“Typically, one of my apprentices would accompany me on such journeys. However, now that I have acquired a personal attendant,” He gestures towards you with a flick of his hand, “It shall no longer be necessary.” As he speaks, he runs his hand absentmindedly through his well trimmed beard, gaging your reaction.
"I—" Your words falter and fade away. "Yes, sir," you respond, inclining your head in deference, a stark reminder of your place. While you may have concealed it, you were seething with humiliation. Returning to the Imperial Palace after a year of exile to serve the woman who took your spot was mortifying beyond measure.
“Very well. Pack enough for one week’s time. I doubt the Emperor would have called me if this was a light ailment.” He says gruffly. “We leave at dawn.” His gaze shifted to the horizon outside.
1 YEAR AGO
“Your Grace,” You purr at the feeling of his large hands scratching your head.
The smile that rests on his face is almost ravenous. “Yes, my love?”
“I think—“ A soft sigh escapes your lips when he presses on your weak points. “I should g-go.”
His ministrations stop almost immediately.
“Go?” His eyes peer down at you in his lap. It is now that you realize the weight of his piercing gaze. “Have I commanded you to leave yet?”
“No, but—”
“Then you have nowhere else to be.” He huffs, unintentionally puffing his cheeks out. You stifle the giggle that nearly escapes from your lips. He vaguely resembles a pufferfish– or so you think. Though you’ve never seen the round creature with your very own eyes, you’ve heard that the delicacy was something only members of the aristocratic class would feast on.
Your mouth waters at the thought.
“What are you thinking about that could possibly be so important? Keep your eyes on me,” A strong hand squishes your cheeks together and firmly guides your face back upon him.
You should be embarrassed; ashamed at the intimate position His Majesty has trapped you in. The way your head is tucked away in his lap as he peers down at you, nothing to shield you away from him. It was incredibly scandalous, considering that you were an unmarried woman! But it seemed like the Emperor had taken no mind towards it. You would even dare to say that he was enjoying it, with the way his lips quirk upward at the sight of you squirming.
“Your Grace,” You repeat, determined to free yourself from his hold. His eyebrows furrow.
“Satoru,” He reminds you. You purse your lips. The position you hold in his court is simply not high enough to grant you the privilege of calling him by his given name.
“Your Grace,” You try again, the title rolling off of your tongue naturally. A man like him did not deserve any title less than.
“You’re breaking my heart, sweetheart. Indulge a man, won’t you?” He pouts down at you. As stubborn as ever, you don’t relent.
“I would be overstepping my boundaries as your consort to call you as such. That privilege is reserved for your future bride.” You take advantage of his guard let down to sit up and escape his hold. If he could have caught you, he made no effort.
“I am a simple man.” He follows you to your vanity. A giggle escapes your mouth. He is anything but. “I want my love to call me by my name.”
You turn around to cup his cheek. He eagerly leans into your touch, sighing happily at the contact.
“I wonder how Lord Kento and Geto would react to you like this.” You tease, a smile unknowingly painting itself on your lips.
Satoru’s face falls, features morphing into an appalled expression. You watch him close the distance between you through the mirror.
“Kento?” His voice had a dangerous lilt in it. You blink, unsure what spurred on the sudden tension in the room. “Since when were you so comfortable around him? He cannot satisfy you like I can.” He reminds you of the man’s castrated state as an eunuch. You wince.
“I have not gotten comfortable,” You’re careful to pick your words. Gojo’s possessiveness was something that was not easily tamed. “He simply provides good conversation while you are away.The palace is far too big and lonely while you’re away dealing with clan matters.”
The only response you get is a quiet grumble. “You’re lucky that you’re pretty.” His large hand creeps its way into your hair again, undoing the hairstyle your ladies in waiting had spent a copious amount of time on earlier that morning. Gojo carefully plucks the extravagant silver hairpin from your hair, the dangling pearls clicking softly at the sudden movement. His hands slowly make their way down to the kimono that you are wearing, hands ready to undo the obi.
Your hands softly hover his, “I fear that our roles have been reversed. Should it not be me who gets you unready, Your Grace?”
He chuckles and through the mirror you can see a smirk make his way to his lips, “I’d let you undress me any day. Just say the word, beloved.”
You roll your eyes, but allow him to continue. It was moments like these with the Emperor that led you on to believe that there was a semblance of love between the two of you.
How wrong you were.
PRESENT DAY
The sun has yet to meet the horizon when you arrive at the Inner Palace. The horse-drawn carriage that you and Yaga had taken is the only sound at the scene, clopping down the stone road and back to the Inner Court. You miss the serenity of the beautiful palace you once resided in, knowing that it will be bustling with life in just a few short hours.
In front of the large doors of the primary ceremonial hall where the Emperor spends most of his time, stands Lord Nanami, a counsellor to the Emperor himself. Time has only made his face sterner, but his neatly styled hair and blue and yellow dyed court attire remained the same. He waits patiently while you and Yaga make your way up the flight up stairs that lead up to the hall.
“I am glad to see you in good health, Yaga.” Nanami bows.
The man next to you promptly waves his politeness off, thanking him for his hospitality. You stand silently while the two men engage in conversation regally.
Lord Nanami sighs, “His Majesty has been plagued by stress lately. To say I am relieved by your presence would be an understatement.” His statement is a subtle reminder that you must harden your heart upon entering the palace walls. The meticulously built walls were no longer a sanctuary for you, rather, a painful testament that you were no longer wanted.
Yaga lets out a hearty laugh and it reveals a rare sight, Lord Nanami’s lips curving upwards by a slight. “I highly doubt the boy would be glad to see me. The appearance of the Imperial Physician is portentous.” He scratches his beard. You tilt your head in confusion at how he referred to the Emperor.
“I suppose, yet I am intrigued to find out how he will react upon seeing his object of affection flourishing anew despite the sting of frost.” Nanami audibly wonders. Even a fool could understand his eloquent comparison. The Emperor would be thrilled to see his consort in full bloom once again. You pray that the Heavens would grant you some mercy from witnessing such a scene.
“Youth,” Yaga shakes his head, chuckling to himself before regaining composure. “I mustn't keep the Emperor waiting. [Name], please gather the herbal ingredients to treat the young Consort as you seem fit. I shall confer with His Majesty and meet you in her chambers to declare a proper diagnosis.”
You bow, “Yes sir.”
While Yaga prepares to enter the doors where The Heavenly Emperor resides, your eyes couldn’t help but gaze longingly at the large bronze doors.
“You seem well,” Nanami addresses you for the first time in over a year. Your eyes trail from the Emperor’s door to the blonde man in front of you. “Allow me to guide you to our herbal stock.” Nanami offers you his arm as you start to make your way down the stairs.
You take it, lightly holding his arm. “Thank you, Lord Nanami. Time away from the Inner Palace has been like a breath of fresh air,” You respond, ensuring your voice carries no malice. You hear the large palace doors from behind you open, the metal creaking loudly in the quiet dawn.
“I must ask you to call me Kento,” He leads you down the stone steps. “We are old friends, it is strange to hear anything but.”
You focus on your steps down the stairs, only responding once your feet meet the solid ground, “I fear that our social statuses have changed since then. It would be the cause of a scandal should anyone hear I am calling the Imperial Counselor by his given name. Your admirers would have my head on a stick.”
“Your imagination is amusing as always, [Name].” He gives you a closed eyes smile. You huff.
“I am only speaking the truth!” You insist. He chuckles.
“It is quite refreshing to see both you and Yaga again. I’m not sure how long it has been since I have been at the imperial physician.”
You gape at his confession. “You mustn't skip your annual visits to the physician, Kento. It is in the best interest of your health!” You lightly scold him, lifting your hand to flick his forehead. It was a force of habit. “Perhaps if I have time after treating the Consort, I shall do a check up on you.”
Nanami clears his throat at your comment, the twinkle in his eyes dissipating as if your direct touch had burned him.
“I would rather not lose my head.” He mumbles, eyes scanning the courtyard around the two of you. You knit your eyebrows, confused.
Nanami leaves you to fulfill his duties once you arrive at the Royal Kitchens to retrieve all the necessary items to treat Consort Himiko. You are glad that he did not accompany you into the kitchens to prepare Consort Himiko’s herbal soup.
The memory of it still irks you.
“You’re late,” One of Consort Himiko’s ladies in waiting snaps just as you enter the kitchen. You look up to see a young girl, dressed in a light purple kimono. It must be Himiko’s signature, you note. It was strange to see someone outside of the Imperial family donning the color, but you suppose it was only a grand display of Himiko’s influence.
“You’re a lot more plain than I anticipated,” The other lady in waiting quirks an eyebrow, eyeing your appearance. You furrow your eyebrows, shocked by their rudeness.Their undying loyalty to their Lady was enough to fuel an unspoken hatred for you. Though you’re not sure that the two coincide, you don’t blame them.
The two are mixing a concoction that you don’t recognize to be used to treat the sick. The taller one adds some aromatics and herbs in and you see the other one unwrap a cloth to reveal a rare delicacy from the West. Cocoa, you believed they called it.
Then it hits you– the two are not making a medicinal soup for their Lady, rather they are making an aphrodisiac! The image that conjures in your head makes you blanch. Back in the Outer Palace, Shoko had shown you the effects of the stimulant (you shiver at the memory of her shoving a treat laced with it into your mouth). It was certainly a night to remember.
“How pathetic,” You mutter underneath your breath, quickly rushing to obtain the ingredients you needed without making conversation with the two girls.
Fortunately, they pay you no further attention for the time you’re in the kitchen.
“Please excuse me,” You bow upon entering the Emperor’s chambers. Despite the Consort’s Pavilion being similar in size to a small town, you remember spending most of your time in the Emperor’s chambers rather than your own. It was probably the same case with Consort Himiko. You slowly place the tray carrying broth and medicinal herbs to treat the Consort down on the circular wooden table in the middle of the room.
Out of curiosity, your eyes can’t help but soak in the Emperor’s room. Not much has changed since you’ve left. His Majesty’s preference for minimalist decorations have stayed the same, along with his natural musk that fills your nose. You feel your face heat up at your own thoughts. How could you think of such a thing when you are about to meet his new lover?
Your gaze moves to his bed, where Consort Himiko resides– only to find nothing.
“Huh?”
You observe his bed, silk sheets neatly made, seemingly untouched. The sounds of your sock clad feet patter on the wooden floor as you make your way to feel the bedsheets for any signs of warmth, but you are met with nothing.
“Don’t you know that entering the Emperor’s chambers can be punishable by death?” A deep voice from behind you causes you to jump in your spot.
Your guard is immediately raised, head whipping to the sound. In hindsight, you should have never agreed to accompany Yaga on his trip. It was a foolish idea all along, you think as all of the air in your lungs dissipates upon seeing your former lover.
Standing at the entrance of his own sleeping quarters is Gojo Satoru, his frame big enough to tower over the doorway. His arms are crossed over each other, electric blue eyes focused on nothing else but you. You press your thighs together tightly to avoid squirming anymore than you are. He has loosened his dark blue kimono to expose some of his hardened chest, a sight any woman in the nation would die to catch a glimpse. Even underneath all of the fabric, anyone can see his divinely sculpted physique.
“Your Grace,” You waste no time to dip your body deeply, praying that he will allow you to keep your head by sunset. “I apologize for the intrusion, I was under the pretense that Consort Himiko resided in your quarters–” Your voice loses itself in your throat when you see his shadow quickly encroaching.
“Himiko stays in her Pavilion,” He towers over you, eyes gazing down on you. “But one might suspect that you already knew that.”
Your eyes frantically meet his feet, desperate to salvage what was left of your dignity, “I assure you that I speak of the truth, Your Majesty.”
When he doesn’t respond, you slowly lift your head.
The flustered look on your face must have been amusing to him, as he makes his way closer to you, bending down to interrogate you further.
“Is that so?” He hums, enjoying every second of cornering you into his chambers. The back of your legs have met his bed, trapping you. You inhale sharply, trying to keep your breaths even, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing the effect he had on you.
He continues, “You’re awfully skittish for someone who was happily skipping around my territory in the arms of another man just earlier.” His predatory gaze seems to darken.
“Kento?” When his name leaves your lips, the man in front of you grits his teeth. You turn your head to the side, deliberately avoiding him. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, but I don’t see how Kento and I’s relationship is any of your concern,” He does not take your actions well, his gaze searing into you.
“It certainly is when the woman in question is you,” Gojo’s voice loses its feral lilt, distress flashing across his face. There’s a newfound desperation in it that chips away at your resolve. His hand raises to your face so slowly, as if he did not want to startle you.
“This is wrong. I– I saw a couple of servants earlier making aphrodisiacs, perhaps you could have unknowingly consumed them.” You tell him, frantic eyes meeting him. It is not unusual for couples to use aphrodisiacs, you know that after under Yaga. The Emperor must have mistaken the laced dessert for his usual.
He shakes his head, running a hand through his white hair.
“You are mistaken. This is solely your effect on me.” He promises. You could barely believe his words, stuck between feeling offended or shocked.
“How could you stand to be so cruel?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. There are no tears in your eyes this time. “I am not a courtesan you can buy for the night,” You snap, pointing a harsh finger to his chest.
“What do you mean?” He sounds breathless.
“Whatever do I mean?” You scoff, a dry laugh escaping your mouth. “For a year, all I have gotten is pity from the world, because you decided I was no longer entertaining. You could have at least banished me away yourself. Instead, you sent Suguru who couldn’t even look me in the eye! Don’t you know how humiliating that is?” With every word that left your lips, more venom seemed to drip. Anger was prickling you all over, taking control of the rational part of you.
Gojo seemed to be taken aback by your outburst. It was far too late to take anything back now. If you lose your head by nightfall, so be it.
You dig a deeper grave for yourself when you take advantage of his moment of weakness to flee. He’s quick to react, attempting to grip your wrist.
“Wait, [Name], beloved–” He uses that all too familiar term of endearment, but it doesn't deter you.
You accidentally bump into the circular wooden table placed in the middle of the room. What an awful place to keep it, watching in horror as the Consort’s medicine shatters on the floor. To add salt to the wound, a vase you recognize to be specially gifted to the Emperor from a foreign nation tips off too before you can catch it. The sound of porcelain shattering fills the room.
“[Name]! Are you alright?” You hear Gojo ask from behind you, but you run over the broken shards before he can catch you.
Had you bothered to pay closer attention, you would have noticed articles of your clothing and a couple of your missing belongings littered all over the room– creating a faux impression that you never really left the palace.
Days passed by after the incident, and luckily, your head was still attached to your body despite offending and nearly endangering the Emperor. Yaga’s disappointment when you had told him what happened was made evident when he sent you home early after hearing the events that transpired, insisting that he can handle the Consort on his own. Normally you would have argued, but you knew better than to inflict Yaga’s wrath.
“Now you’ve really done it,” Shoko whistles lowly, walking in from the front of Yaga’s shop.
You hide your face in your hands, “I made an absolute fool of myself, didn’t I?”
“A fool? No. A conspirator against the Emperor? Perhaps.” She dangles a scroll with a familiar seal on it. The Gojo Clan’s familiar emblem reflects off of the sunlight spilling into the room. Your heart drops.
“Oh, they’ll have my head.” You moan, hands instinctively lifting to shield your neck.
“Though I’m quite impressed that Yaga only sent you back here. He used to have worse punishments.” She shudders before impatiently unraveling the scroll. You watch her eyes gradually widen as they read the contents of the letter. The scroll falls from her hand.
You rush to it, desperate to read your fate.
To [Last Name] [First Name],
Greetings and prosperity unto you.
By the mandate of the heavens and the authority vested in Us, We hereby extend Our solemn words to you, [Last Name] [First Name], servant of the realm, in acknowledgement of your debt to the Empire.
In response to your unmeritorious deeds, The Emperor bestows upon you His imperial pardon from capital punishment. In consideration of your obligations and the harmony of the realm, it is hereby decreed that you shall serve as an indentured servant to the Imperial Household for a period commensurate with your debt. During this time, you shall labor faithfully and diligently under the supervision of Our Heavenly Emperor, performing duties essential to the welfare of the Empire.
By fulfilling your obligations with diligence and humility, you may yet earn favor and esteem in Our sight.
The Imperial Court
A loud gasp escapes your mouth.
You feel your legs weaken, your emotions running wild. Shoko’s eyes meet yours, mirroring your frantic gaze. In that moment, you are met with the same suffocating sense of hopelessness.
extra!
gojo was kicking his feet happily as he watched suguru draft out his letter to you. suguru thought it rather cruel, while the white haired male was too busy purring happily as he fantasized about having you back into his grasp.
previous chapter | next chapter [coming soon!]
#very ohshc esque with the way she is now indebted to him TT#ahh this entire series is so self indulgent im sorry#kt.writes.·:*¨༺#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojou x reader#gojou satoru x reader#jjk fluff#gojo fluff#gojo satoru x you#gojou satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk x reader#yandere!gojo satoru#royal!au#jjk angst#gojo angst#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x you
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Reader, after preforming CPR on Simon: don’t worry I didn’t take off your mask
Simon, groggy: …?
Reader, panicking: well ya know I thought it was like a Star Wars thing where you can’t take off that one guys mask because his-his honor and he would be disowned and I didn’t want you to be disowned and I didn’t wanna-so I just lifted it up a lil bit
Simon:
Reader: your honor is intact
#I am very much awake past my bedtime#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley imagine#simon ghost riley#simon riley fanfic#simon riley x you#coco's chaos <3#cod x you#simon riley x reader#cod fluff#Simon ghost incorrect quotes#ghost humor#ghost incorrect quotes#cod incorrect quotes
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cw. none except satoru being disgustingly cute (part 2)
satoru isn’t used to people calling him anything other than his surname. gojo-san to most, gojo-sensei to others. it’s simple, and gets the job done.
only a handful of people stick to calling him by his given name. to them, he’s satoru. it’s easy, and rolls of the tongue, and he greatly prefers it over the sound of his surname. it makes him feel like an actual person.
satoru never entertained the possibility of being called anything else other than those two names. he didn’t think it would ever happen.
for once, he was glad to be proven wrong.
“tough day, pretty?” you ask gently, and he sighs with a nod as he throws himself into your opened arms. his body moulds easily into yours, and he lets out a heavy groan as he settles onto the couch with you. the groan is loud, and over-exaggerated.
it’s so satoru.
you have to stifle a giggle.
“everything went horribly wrong,” he grumbles, his voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “the higher ups were up my ass again, my students laughed at me again, and when i finally made it to that bakery you liked they were out of your favourite pastries so i couldn’t get them for you—again!”
“oh, my poor baby,” you coo, and gently push his bangs out of his face. he nods in agreement, faking an immense amount of sympathy for himself. “‘s okay, at least you tried, hm? i think that’s very sweet.”
satoru hums, as if he’s deeply thinking about your words. “’m still your baby?” he mumbles, deciding that’s the most important thing right now. his eyes briefly flutter shut, consumed by utter bliss as you play with the hairs on his undercut.
“mhm, still my baby.”
“yeah? what else am i?”
this time you do giggle. he does this sometimes. you aren’t exactly sure why—but on tough days, satoru likes to crawl into your arms and listen to you call him every cheesy nickname under the sun. it’s easily providable and makes him so very happy, so you always indulge him.
“my honey bun.”
“and?”
“my boo bear.”
“mhm.”
“my sweetheart.”
“yes?”
you laugh softly. “my mochi,” you coo, and pinch his cheek. it’s a little squished because he’s laying on your chest, but it emphasises your point.
he grins under your touch. it’s adorable.
“keep them coming, please?” he asks, and you do. you always do, unable to refuse him. especially when he asks so sweetly.
“my sugar cookie.”
“my muffin.”
“my baby cakes.”
“my angel.”
“my love.”
“my husband.”
“h—huh?” satoru stammers, looking up from your chest. he lays his chin on your sternum, baby blue eyes blinking up at you. they’re filled with awe, surprise, and utter glee. “that’s, i’m not. . .”
“just testing the title, baby,” you tell him, and continue playing with his hair. he bathes in your touch and you smile softly as he grabs and kisses the palm of your hand. “what do you think, hm?”
“i think you should call me it again.”
“oh?”
“mhm,” he mumbles.
“my dearest husband.”
“again.”
“my handsome husband.”
“again.”
“my sweet husband.”
“again, please?”
you hum, impressed. “my well-mannered husband.”
satoru chuckles, and lays back down on your chest. his white hair tickles against your skin, and he sighs in content.
“i think i want to be your husband for real.”
“yeah?”
“yeah,” he mumbles and nuzzles further into your hold. “y’ve got the same ring size still, right?”
“i sure do,” you say, a content smile on your lips as you watch him slowly doze off to sleep.
“hm, good to know.”
for satoru, those nicknames make him feel as if he’s something even greater than a person—it makes him feel yours.
he’s not just gojo, the strongest. he’s not just satoru, the at-times somewhat immature adult with the sweet tooth of a child.
he’s yours. your baby. your honey bun. your boo bear. your mochi. your boyfriend. your love. and for satoru, there’s no greater thing in the world than that.
#ꕤ — sanatomis darling: gojo satoru#usually i list the nicknames i have from him of the top of my head but i’ll admit it guys#i opened my notes app for this one#i call him so many nicknames i know mimi is sick of us#very self-indulgent once again my apologies (or not)#HES JUST SO#adorable#he’s everything and he deserves every nickname#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x reader fluff#satoru gojo x reader fluff#gojo x reader fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#⍣ ❥ ೋ 𝑠𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑚𝑖-𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑒.#sneaking it in again guys sorry
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RODEO STATION, 1 — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO
A collection of you and Megumi, through the years, through Gojo’s eyes.
content, warnings: friends to lovers, fluff, sort of canon-adjacent, satoru adopts megumi and tsumiki, reader has a cursed technique but it’s not mentioned in depth here, really just you and megumi falling in love and gojo watching
word count: 1.1k
part i: first years, jujutsu tech. fits in the timeline around when nobara first joins the class
When Satoru first finds him, Megumi has two conditions. First, that Tsumiki would be kept safe and happy, and far away from the Zenin clan if they weren’t going to be good to her—safe and far away from all jujutsu society if Gojo could help it; and that she would never have to worry about feeding herself or Megumi ever again. Satoru agreed right away, he would have done that without the request.
For his second condition, an eight year old Megumi looked Satoru straight in the eye and told him that he would absolutely not be separated from you. Satoru thought it was cute, sweet, in the bratty, and naive but determined kind of way that seemed to be everything that kid stood for, and Satoru couldn’t fault him for it. Megumi’s evident childlike adoration of you aside, Satoru saw potential in you, too, so he accepted Megumi’s conditions, happy to welcome the two of you to the world of sorcery.
It’s not until a week before you both start at Jujutsu Tech, that Satoru really asks Megumi why he wants you here (never mind the fact that you had already also made up your mind about being a sorcerer, and if there is anything that Satoru has learned about you in the past decade, it’s that: one, you have the magical ability to make Megumi do anything you say; and two, you’re incredible persuasive and very stubborn). Megumi doesn’t look him in the eye when he answers, fidgeting with his melting ice cream instead when he says, “Well, she saved my life.”
Satoru doesn’t tease when he hears this, only digging his spoon in for a scoop of Megumi’s toffee butter, smiling to himself when the cold hits his tongue, because he’d heard the message loud and clear: Megumi believes he owes you his life, and to keep yours protected, he wants you by his side.
Satoru quickly learns that Megumi truly has his work cut out for him as he watches you burst through a top-floor window of a high-rise building, falling carelessly with the object of your mission—a special-grade cursed object—clutched in your grasp. Second later, there’s a loud explosion, as the ugly head of a large cursed falls limp in the hole in the broken glass that you’d left behind. Satoru chuckles when he sees you smile, and the faint cheer of weeeeeeeee as you fall. He knew you were wild and stubborn by the way you bossed Megumi around without a care, but seeing you in action proved that you were also in your own league of crazy, a fantastic sorceress in the making.
To his left, Yuuji gapes wildly as he looks up, shielding his eyes with his hand, and then flinching back when Nobara bursts through the ground floor door, not without a nail going flying into the curse that had been chasing her. She looks angry, then wide eyed, then up to where Yuuji and Megumi were also staring and starts squealing alongside him.
“Gojo-sensei, what are you standing there smiling about—do something!” Nobara shouts, pointing an accusatory finger up in the air at your flying body.
Yuuji gasps again, like he’d just figured out the consequence of you falling from a building, spewing on his own cries, “Hey, seriously, what the hell are we doing—she can’t fly,” he shouts, turning to shake his sensei, then pausing, “Wait, Fushiguro, can she fly? You know her.”
“Idiot,” Nobara spits, “If she could fly then she’d be flying, not falling.”
“Then why aren’t we doing any—you know what, I think I can catch her,” Yuuji boasts, rolling up his sleeves, prepared to position himself underneath your descending body, and that’s when Satoru steps in, extending an arm in front of his students.
“You all worry too much,” he smiles, lifting his blindfold just enough to look the pair in the eye, and tilt his head up slightly, “Besides, Megumi’s handled it.”
Three heads turn back up to the sky, where you’re no longer in freefall, instead have had your shoulders snatched by Nue’s talons. You’ve still got that wild smile on your face, wider now as you descend much more elegantly via Megumi’s shikigami. Nobara and Yuuji wince as Nue’s wings flap widely when you’re set on the ground. You shift the box with the cursed object to one hand, reaching your free one around to pet the bird’s feathers. It crows happily, and Satoru snickers, much to Megumi’s dismay. You always did treat his shikigami like pets.
“Hey, you’re okay!” Yuuji cheers, eyes sparkling, “What’s in the box? A sword—actually, I don’t want to know. If it’s another finger, keep it away from me.”
“Hand it here,” Nobara demands. You’re happy to hand over the box and have another hand available for petting Nue.
Satoru watches fondly as Yuuji and Nobara fuss over the box. They should probably exercise more caution, but he’s there, so the worst can’t happen. Meanwhile, you step closer to Megumi with Nue fluttering behind you.
“You’re the one who told me there would be no need to get involved,” Megumi says, voice soft, hands falling comfortably at his side.
“I said that you wouldn’t have to get involved with the curses,” you correct, standing on your tiptoes to nuzzles your head into the bird’s feathers, “I said nothing about not getting involved with me.”
Satoru does his best not to choke out a loud laugh as Megumi’s face becomes increasingly pink when you reach forward to pinch his cheeks, his grumbling drowned in the sound of Yuuji and Nobara’s bickering. Satory sighs, content. He cares for all his students, but there’s a certain weight lifted on his shoulders knowing that when it came to you, there was truly nothing to worry about—Megumi would always be there for you. Honestly, he thinks Megumi might fight him to protect you if it came down to it.
That thought does bring an audible chuckle to his lips, Megumi’s pinched expression calling to him, “What are you laughing about?”
To which Satoru only hums, sticking his hands in his pockets. Megumi’s eyebrows furrow deeper, but it’s quickly dissolved when you catch his attention again, saying your farewells to Nue before giving Megumi the okay to let him recede into his shadows.
“Oh, nothing,” Satoru chirps, turning to lead the group back to Ichiji’s car, “Come on, who’s still up for revolving sushi!”
Cheers follow him as the veil dispels. You question Yuuji about whether or not you think the restaurant will have grilled eel, and Nobara pretends to throw up, arguing that eel is the worst, that you all should stick to hand rolls instead. Megumi stays quiet, walking on your outside, and humming along with all of your suggestions, and Satoru can’t help but wonder whether or not you knew that Nue had been out from the moment you’d stepped in the building.
Honestly, he thinks Megumi might win that fight—might win any fight if it meant being with you.
#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk smut#jjk imagines#megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro#megumi smut#megumi fluff#jjk scenarios#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo satoru#megumi fushiguro x reader#this isn't a gojo x reader thing but he thinks very very fondly of you and megumi :((#jjk smau#jjk drabbles#jjk headcanons#jjk fanfic
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i love your comedy and fluff! but my masochistic heart is itching for more angst to fluff for gojo🥲 and i have this brainrot ever since i read "baby", "protect" and "wife": childbirth gone wrong, that's why he is sooo concerned about your wellbeing during your maternity leave~
࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 09:45 P.M 」
tw: childbirth. there are two very same ask for this now and so that's the cue for me to practice my crack/angst more :3 okay this is basically an extended version of protect's epilogue and oh, it's a happy ending! mini sequel -> 11.10 p.m
a part of gojo's love entries
“you’re always doing whatever you want! ow!”
“deep breaths, sweets. deep brea—”
“easy for you to say! you don't contribute anything other than shoving that damn stick into me! and now i’m left with the consequences!”
“i kindly remind you that you very much enjoyed my stick that night—”
“i hate you!”
satoru looked at your tear-streaked face and patted you in the head—his notable love language, erupting into laughter. “of course you do.”
lying on the hospital bed, tears welled up in your eyes as you roasted your husband and your contractions kept getting closer together. three hours after you woke up to your labor pains, all you could feel was that you were ready to burst.
gripping his hand tight, you purposefully dig your nails in just to spite him. “i’m serious. i hate you. you’re not putting me up for this again!”
“you say that now, but the moment we are home, those words are going to be null and void,” satoru snorted in an attempt to lighten the mood, ignoring the slight pain you inflicted on him, because what was this compared to what you were going through?
but his facade dropped as soon as breath was knocked out of you and you whimpered. he instantly gathered you in his arms.
“hey, hey... take deep breaths...” when you did, he planted a tender kiss on your damp forehead. “that's it, there you go... the baby's going to be here real soon, okay?”
you panted, limp in his hold as dull pain overwhelmed you. “yeah... your baby.”
“our baby, love. not just mine,” he corrected, smiling. he had one hand on your swollen belly, palming the subtle firmness, and gently rubbing it. “our munchkin.”
“i’m just the container though.”
“heh, no,” he chuckled softly. “you're everything.” his eyes crinkled affectionately, a hint of laughter still in his voice, and your heart actually melted when he whispered: “my everything.”
truthfully, despite your bravado, you were scared shitless. yet, as you nestled your head against your husband's strong chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his reassuring heartbeat, and when you gazed into his eyes, you were sure, because he exuded confidence as if he had no doubts that this was going to go perfectly fine.
and so holding onto him you did. he held your hand through it all, talked you through your pain, and you were so, so grateful to have him by your side.
the next hour was a blur, as excruciating pain blinded your senses. you were wailing when everyone told you to push, and you gave it your all. you kept it up even as you felt like being torn apart.
and before you knew it, cries unlike any other, ones you had only imagined until that moment, echoed through the room.
“he's here!” satoru's hitched voice reached your ears, and you went slack, falling back to the sheets.
you were completely spent and all you could register was that the cherished baby both you and satoru had been waiting for was here. you shivered, your mind tuning in and out—lightheaded, wondering why you felt so drenched down there.
“holy shit! i can't believe it! i can’t—” if you were awake enough, you would realize that it was one of the rarest times when satoru was choked with emotions. he turned to you. “i—”
and suddenly you felt strange. an eerie chill seemed to engulf your entire being. your hand slipped from satoru's grasp as your vision dimmed, the world growing darker.
“are you okay? hey—” his voice sounded distant, and you struggled to keep your eyes open. satoru finally realized that something was wrong, as his six eyes discerned the rapid dwindling of your cursed energy, and the room reeked of the tangy scent of blood.
you barely made out the nurse's shouting next. “blood pressure is dropping!”
"come on!" now he was utterly panicked and tried to get a hold of you, shaking you slightly. “hey, stay awake—look at me, i’m right here, please—”
but to his horror, your head lolled back as you lost your consciousness. soon, he was thrown out of the delivery room. just like that, in one sick twist, his world was crumbling down hard and fast.
a sense of helplessness washed over him as he stood outside the room, barred from being by your side. inside, you were bleeding out, and he was unable to do anything but wait.
didn't he say he would protect you with everything he had? once again, gojo satoru was humbled—not everything was in his grasp. he couldn't save those chosen by fate not to be saved.
suddenly, it felt like suguru all over again, except the stakes were higher. he shuddered—his fist clenched so hard that it drew blood, while his other hand clutched his chest, desperately willing the searing pain away.
would he really lose you this way? the sheer thought made his ears ring. no fucking way. even hell knows he'd go berserk. would fate really let him decimate anything in his path? surely, no... right?
he was unaware that he had been murmuring these silent prayers when the doors slid open, revealing the doctor who had been assisting with your delivery earlier with the news. it was a case of a postpartum hemorrhage, she said, an unfortunate incident.
all things considered, you were going to be okay. that knowledge alone was enough to make him breathe freely once more.
when he was allowed to see you, the moment your eyes blinked open, the first thing he did was burying his head in the crook of your neck.
and there you have it—the first time you had ever seen him really shaken to the point of shedding tears.
“you scared me,” he rasped, voice thick with emotion. “i—i can't stop thinking— if you really left me—”
“i’m fine now...” you were somewhat wonderstruck by the knowledge that you had this potent hold over him. oblivious to how your soft voice calmed the depths of his soul, you stroked his hair, and he breathed in your scent, grateful to every force imaginable for returning you back to him.
“sleep,” he gently pulled away, his eyes rimmed with red, his fingers caressing your cheek. “you need it. i’ll be here when you wake up, i promise.”
“the baby—”
“they just cleaned him up. he's resting too,” satoru reassured with an impossibly tender smile, and his next words made your heart lurch.
“my strong girl, you did it. you're a mother now… thank you. thank you... for making me the father to our child.”
you felt like you might burst into tears. you felt so loved, so secure, even after you went through the most challenging ordeal in your life. and as you drifted to your rest, you could hear the love of your life whisper in your ear ever so lovingly—
“i know i have said it before, but i’ll say it again. with everything it is that i have, i swear to you, nothing will befall you and our baby, for i will spare nothing and give everything for both of you... even my own life.”
#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#gojo satoru#okay i'm just in the mood of very soft gojo#jjk imagines#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru fluff#jjk fluff#gojo x you#satoru gojo fluff#gojo satoru angst#gojo angst#jjk angst
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into the night | jeon wonwoo
SUMMARY: when you call wonwoo late at night telling him you're stranded, he drops everything to make his way to you (and bring you home safe)
PAIRING: biker!wonwoo x reader
THEMES: biker au, established relationship, terms of endearment, comfort fluff
WARNINGS: speed, fluff, kissing, a little suggestive (only at the end)
WORDCOUNT: 3.1k
A/N: just another very self-indulgent fic
the cool wind blows in your hair as you stand next to your car on the verge of tears. you really don't know how you ended up here - well you do actually. you were upset, overwhelmed from work and exhausted. you just wanted to run away for a bit, get away from life. but right now it seemed like life had caught up and was showing you the reality of your situation.
you pull out your phone from your sling bag and unlock it, your hands opening your contacts, your finger hovering over wonwoo's number. it was late, almost going to be midnight and here you were in the middle of nowhere because your car decided to break down. you wonder whether you should bother wonwoo tonight, having second thoughts, but your finger taps on his contact anyway, dialling his number. you don't think he is going to pick up after a few rings and you move your phone from your ear. that's when you hear the line pick up on the other end, wonwoo's voice floating in your ear.
"yn?", he asks, his voice tinged with a little sleepiness. "i-sorry did i wake you up?", you ask softly, looking down at your feet.
"no, i was up. are you okay?", he asks you, and that question gets you. you bite your lip in an attempt to not cry, feeling overwhelmed all over again.
"wonwoo", you say softly, feeling like an idiot for getting yourself in this situation.
"my love, what's wrong?", his voice comes through, concern laced in his voice and you can hear the sound of some shuffle on the other side.
"can you come get me?", you finally manage to choke out, your voice cracking, betraying your composure. "where are you?", he asks, his tone more alert now.
"i'm kind of stranded", you confess softly, and wonwoo catches onto the tremor in your voice, getting worried. "i don't know where i am, i was just driving and the car broke down", you try to explain softly, a lone tear rolling down your cheek.
"driving? why were you driving so late", he presses, to which you don't respond. you bite your lip in hesitation, unsure whether you want to tell wonwoo the truth or not.
you can hear him sigh softly on the other end before he speaks again. "send me your location and wait in the car, okay. i'm on the way", he says before hanging up.
after sending wonwoo your location, you settled into the quiet of the car, exhaustion weighing heavily upon your eyelids. despite your best efforts to stay awake, you unintentionally dozed off, unaware of the passing time and wonwoo's frantic attempts to reach you, the phone on silent.
in wonwoo's mind, each unanswered call heightens his worry, his imagination conjuring the worst-case scenarios, thinking something might have happened to you. it was unlike you to not respond to his calls. you'd usually reassure him with a quick call or text, but right now you were unreachable and panic ignited in his chest, propelling him to rush towards your location on his bike, each passing moment feeling like an eternity.
he finally reaches your location, finding your car on the side of the road with the blinkers flashing. with wonwoo's heart pounding with every step he takes, he approaches your car, his knuckles knocking against the window, startling you awake.
jumping up at the sudden noise, you blinked groggily, confusion clouding your senses. a figure stood outside, casting a silhouette against the darkness. fear momentarily gripped you until clarity dawned, and you recognised the familiar leather jacket that belonged to wonwoo.
with a shaky exhale, you reached for the door handle. as you stepped out into the cool night air you heard wonwoo say something like "thank god" under his breath as you stepped out.
"are you okay?", he asks, worried, his hair a touseled mess, falling over his forehead and eyes, blowing gently with the breeze. he looks you up and down, looking for any signs of injury.
"i'm okay, i just dozed off", you tell and relief seems to flood in his eyes. "you got me worried there, i called you but you weren't picking up", he says, looking at you, relieved to see you safe and sound.
a gush of wind passes, making you shiver. you cross your arms over your chest to offer some sort of warmth to your body. you stand there in front of wonwoo, avoiding wonwoo's gaze, dreading the question he might ask you about why you were driving out so late in the middle of nowhere. but the question never comes.
"let's go home", he says softly, reassuring in a way, holding out his hand for you to take, making you finally look up at him. you take his hand, walking along with him. he holds your hand gently but there's something comforting about his touch.
that's when you finally spot the bike - wonwoo's sports bike parked on the side of the road, making you turn your head to him.
"it's gonna get cold", he remarks, his voice gentle as he retrieves another jacket from his bike. he holds it out to you and waits patiently as you slip your arms into the sleeves, his touch tender as he settles the jacket over your shoulders. though it was slightly oversized, the garment seemed to embrace you in its warmth, a comforting shield against the biting night air. wonwoo's heart swelled with pride at the sight of you wearing his jacket.
"we're going home on this?", you question, apprehension evident in your voice as wonwoo zips up the jacket around you.
"why? are you scared?" he teases lightly. he knew all too well of your unease with riding on his bike, a fear you had yet to conquer since the beginning of your relationship. the whole thing seemed so intimidating to you, but wonwoo never pushed you to overcome it, understanding you and respecting your space. but tonight, it seemed like you were finally going to face your fear.
"it was the fastest way to get to you", he adds softly, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear as your eyes dart around nervously, still grappling with the idea of riding on his bike.
"do you trust me?", he asks, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. you lift your eyes to meet his, and nod slowly. "then let's go home".
wonwoo sits on the bike, manoeuvring it into position. he extends his hand, helping you to get on the bike and take a seat. once you're settled in the seat, you can't help but notice its height and weight, a realisation sinking on what you were about to embark on.
wonwoo hands you the spare helmet he brought along with him, and you accept it, your fingers tracing the smooth surface nervously.
"okay, some ground rules," he began, his gaze turning serious as he turns back to look at you.
"hold onto me no matter what or else you're gonna fall off", he says, his gaze turning amused when he sees the flash of panic in your eyes.
"woah not like that, i mean, it's better to hold onto me you know", he adds, chuckling softly and you make a face, smacking him lightly.
"tap me once to tell me you're comfortable, tap twice if you want me to slow down and tap thrice if you want me to stop or you don't feel okay", he instructs carefully. you nod at his intrusions.
"okay?", he asks again and you nod again.
"words, i need words my love", he prompts and you finally speak, squeaking out a small yes, still scared about being on the bike and the corners of his mouth tug up in a small smile.
you watch as he puts on his big biker gloves before taking the helmet from your hands and placing it on your head, adjusting as needed. he puts on his helmet too and waits. you're confused and hold onto his jacket to brace yourself. he opens the visor on his helmet before speaking.
"love, you gotta hold onto me", he says, startling you for a second. "i-i-am", you stutter out in surprise.
"that's not going to work", he says and wordlessly reaches out his hands to yours, guiding them around his waist and you hold onto him now. "that's much better", he remarks, satisfied before telling you he was going to start, putting down his visor.
the bike starts and wonwoo pushes off, riding in the direction home. and fuck, you had underestimated the speed that you'd be going at. your grip around wonwoo tightens and he smiles to himself. wonwoo's grateful for the helmet because gosh, he was melting under your touch truly. he finds you cute, so so cute and all his.
he still remembers the day he first met you. it was at the convenience store where he found you feeding a few of the stray cats that he usually feeds. he'd just gone in to buy some food for them and when he came out walking around to the back, he saw you. you were crouched down as you handed the cats some food and watched them eat with a tender smile on your face. it's was only a few seconds later that you had finally noticed his presence, standing up in a rush.
seeing the strange man in front of you all of a sudden, you panicked, taking a step back until wonwoo spoke.
"you feed them too?", he inquired, tilting his head to the side with geunine curiosity. he remembers the way you nodded your head shyly and the way you took him in, your gaze lingering at his tattoed arm that was exposed, the sleeves rolled up a bit.
from that moment on, your paths seemed to cross more frequently. wonwoo found himself drawn to your presence, often finding excuses to linger around the convenience store in hopes of encountering you once more. you'd get so nervous and shy every time he'd come around on that big bike of his, wearing that leather jacket that made him look so cool and his hair that had grown into a mullet that was a little long and shaggy and fell over his forehead and eyes, making him look hot, paired with the tattoos that covered his one arm, he looked irresistible. and not to forget his towering height - oh he was hot.
it had been almost six months into dating and you'd still never ridden on his bike before, until now. wonwoo gestures his hand in a thumbs up, asking you if you are okay and you tap his chest once. he smiles, glad, but really, you were scared, hanging onto wonwoo for dear life. you feel his hand gently intertwine in yours to reassure you as he slows down at a signal. you sit up a little straighter now, allowing your grip around his waist to loosen just a little.
he starts up again, accelerating again. you clutch onto him a little tighter than last time, closing your eyes. the rush of speed and nerves overwhelming you. you tap him twice, indicating you want him to slow down a little and he does, slowing down at a manageable speed for you but still going at a steady pace. as the minutes pass, you find the courage to open your eyes, lifting your head to take in your surroundings. to your surprise, you realized that you were in familiar territory—the neighbourhood where wonwoo lived. with his home now just a mere ten minutes away, a sense of relief washed over you, tempered with a newfound sense of accomplishment for conquering your fears, if only for a moment.
the rest of the ride is smooth. once wonwoo reaches his home, he parks the bike, turns off the engine, mountings his legs on the ground. your arms are still around his waist, gripping him tighter than ever because the bike was now leaning towards the left since he'd put it on the stand. you were somehow convinced that you were going to fall off if you didn't hold onto wonwoo. he takes off his helmet and sets it down in front of him on the gas tank.
"you okay love?", he asks when you haven't let go of him yet. "yeah i'm okay", you manage out softly, your voice muffled through the helmet.
you reluctantly take your hands off wonwoo and move your hands up to take off your helmet. wonwoo gets down first, his height and long legs making it easier for him than for you. he takes both helmets, placing them on the small bench in his yard.
as you remained perched on the bike, a hesitation rushed through you, with the sudden reluctance to dismount the bike. gazing down at the ground beneath you, you tried to steady yourself, despite knowing there was no real risk of falling. with a nervous gulp, you raised your eyes to meet wonwoo's, finding him regarding you with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.
wonwoo shakes his head a little, letting out a soft exhale, letting his hair breathe finally. he runs a hand through his dishevelled hair, the strands falling in an adorable mess around his face. he continues to look at you, wondering why you haven't gotten off yet.
"need help?", he prompts. "how am i supposed to-", you trail off, feeling embarrassed. you manage to swing your one leg to the other side and now you're settled in a sideways position, holding onto the bike so you don't slide off entirely. wonwoo walks forward and wordlessly holds onto you, his hands finding your waist to steady you as you peer up at him.
"i'll pick you up, just wrap your legs around my waist," he says calmly, and you furrow your brows for a second before nodding in understanding. wonwoo lifts you up effortlessly and you instinctively encircle your legs around his torso as your arms wrap around his neck for support. his one arm supported you, securely wrapped around your waist as he held you up. the proximity made your heart rate rush and you lean more into him so you don't fall off.
he grabs the bike keys before heading to the door, unlocking the door with ease and walking inside with you, holding onto you securely. you admire wonwoo up close and gosh, he was so handsome and pretty.
wonwoo sets you down on the kitchen island countertop, his hands lingering on your waist for a moment as you look at him. as you meet his eyes, you can't help but notice how your height almost matches his towering height now. he gives you a small but comforting smile before his hands move off your waist. he unzips his jacket, taking it off, only to expose his tattoed arm as he slides the jacket off, making you gasp ever so softly at the sight. you'd seen wonwoo's tattoos plenty of times before, but they never failed to leave you in awe every time you saw them. despite wonwoo's intimidating appearance - for someone who looked cold, badass and was so buff, he was so soft, sweet and gentle. it was a contrast that never failed to captivate you, drawing you closer to the enigma that was wonwoo.
wonwoo's wearing a sleeveless compression shirt and as you look at him, it's slowly turning your brain to mush with the way it was hugging his body perfectly at all the right places, showing off his build and muscles. the way the fabric hugged and accentuated every sculpted muscle of his sent your thoughts spiralling in a whirlwind. you have to tear your eyes away, opting to look at your lap instead, feeling the rush of heat flood your cheeks. wonwoo smirks to himself when he catches you checking him out and stealing glances at him, a little boost to his ego.
he takes off the gloves, placing them on the counter and finally, his attention is back on you. he looks at you, stepping forward so that he was closer, standing between your legs as he lifts your chin up so that you can meet his gaze.
"what's going on?", he asks softly, his hand caressing your cheek as he looks at you sweetly. your eyes dart to the side before returning to his unwavering gaze.
"i-i don't know", you confess as you look at him. "i just needed some space i guess, everything got too much", you tell and his gaze softens as he looks at you.
"next time you want to escape, at least call me, i can take you", he murmurs, his words carrying a sense of reassurance and comfort. you gulp at the closeness and his words as he stares into your soul.
"yeah-okay", you mumbled softly, blinking at him, getting nervous again. the way wonwoo could render you a shy nervous mess in mere seconds was something that needed to be studied.
before you can dwell on your response more , wonwoo closes the gap between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender and gentle kiss. a rush of warmth floods your body and in that moment, everything seems to stop. he pulls away and you hope he can't hear how loud and fast your heart is beating.
you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him forward as you bury your face in his chest, engulfing him in a hug. wonwoo's arms instantly wrap around your waist, pulling you a little closer to him, letting you bask in his embrace, the comforting weight of his presence grounding you as he hugs you back, burying his face in the crook of your neck. at that moment, amidst the warmth of his embrace, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you suspended in a moment of quiet intimacy.
bonus: the intrusive thoughts really won here
you riding the bike with wonwoo again, the wind is refreshing as he glides on the roads. after that day, you'd gotten a little more confident and okay with riding on wonwoo's bike. but now, it was like second nature to you. your hands are around wonwoo's waist before you have a little mischievous thought and you smile to yourself. your hands slowly creep up to his chest, your fingers finding the buttons of his shirt as you slowly undo them. wonwoo has no idea what's happening until he glances dow n at the feeling of your hands on his chest, seeing what you are doing.
"what are you doing?", he asks, his voice filling your helmet and you suppress the urge to laugh.
"i'm showing the world how sexy my boyfriend is, though i should be gatekeeping you actually", you tease, undoing another button as wonwoo's shirt now hangs on for dear life. your hands creep up under his shirt and you hear the soft groan he lets out as your hands caress his abs and you grin, satisfied knowing the effect you were having on him.
"oh love, you are so in for it when we get home", he says making you chuckle as you hug him tighter.
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#another very self indulgent fic#skye's writing!#k-labels#caratlibrary#seventeen imagines#seventeen fluff#seventeen x reader#seventeen fanfic#seventeen scenarios#seventeen drabbles#wonwoo imagines#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo fluff#svt imagines#svt fluff#svt x reader#svt fanfic#svt scenarios#svt drabbles#jeon wonwoo
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HQ AS YOUR TYPICAL HIGHSCHOOL BOYS WHO HAS A CRUSH ON YOU
KAGEYAMA: a shy guy who needs the mental support of the whole volleyball team just so he could initiate a conversation with you. whenever you’re in the same room as him he just suddenly finds himself all stiff and unable to function properly. the amount of times where he catches glimpses of you is hilarious because he couldn’t speak a damn word to you no matter how much he wants to.
OIKAWA: to him, there’s something romantic about surprising you by leaving gifts on your desk and locker and there isn’t one day where he forgets to do that, no matter what the occasion is. during huge events such as Christmas, valentines day, you name it — he has everything planned out just for you. he’s actually good at being romantic and he knows that to himself. he’s spoiled you so much and he’s just at the peak of having a crush on you, what more if he’s in a relationship with you.
USHIJIMA: he’s the definition of actions over words. ushijima doesn’t talk much, but his intentions reflect clearly through his actions. one day, he offers to carry your things for you. another day, he offers you his sweater because he hears you complaining how cold the weather is — and that nearly scared the shit out of you because you’re literally at the other end of the classroom?? whenever you’re walking through the stairs, he’ll offer you his hand for support. if he notices your discomfort in a big crowd, he’ll use his body to support you incase someone might bump onto you while using his arm to support your lower back.
HINATA: he’ll always greet you with a ‘good morning y/n! :D’ or a ‘hi y/n! what a lovely morning, is it? how are you doing!’ with a smile on his face every morning before class starts and it goes the same when it’s time to go home ‘cause he always makes sure to see you at the beginning and at the end of his day. he’s so sweet because although he couldn’t bring you home due to volleyball practice, he’ll tell you, ‘have a safe trip home y/n!’ or ‘i’ll see you tomorrow y/n! make sure to send me a text when you’re home, kay!’
TSUKISHIMA: he still sends snappy remarks to you, but the difference between the way he is to others compared to you is detectable. very. so much so that everytime tsukki interacts with you, kageyama looks at him as if he’s possessed. his feelings for you comes out in a different way, but the soft glint from the way he gazes at you reflects his true intentions — because at one point he hears you complaining how you’re having a hard time at a certain subject, and suddenly he drops a whole ass notebook infront of you, all containing his notes of the lesson. he raises an eyebrow at the confused look you’re giving him, “why are you looking at me like that? we don’t want you failing with your empty head, don’t we?” he says with a snicker,,, and a slight blush on his cheeks.
KUROO: he doesn’t hide the fact that he has a crush on you. it doesn’t surprise you with the fact that he’s already leaning against the door frame of your classroom after classes has ended. he also isn’t shy with the fact that he’s sending you winks from across the cafeteria or hallways (he knows you like it). passing by him through the school hallway, at that short moment, he sends you a glance, a cheshire smile on his face as he greets you with a ‘hey pretty’ before passing by you as if he didn’t do shit at all.
AKAASHI: he’s so attentive when it comes to you. he’ll open doors for you and let you enter or leave the room first before he does. everyone is actually close to having no clue whether he has a crush on you or not ‘cause he’s naturally polite in general —but the thing is, his gaze on you is so loving??? it’s not the kind of look he’s ever given to anyone at all & i’m pretty sure the volleyball team has caught up with his intentions towards you. it doesn’t take long until they’re being ridiculously loud at teasing akaashi about it especially when they keep catching him looking at you with that gaze again.
#owdkjdkdkdkckdkkaa#i wrote a post VERY SIMILAR to this one hajdjfjjsa#this feels like a mess bye#i hope u guys still love it though ;))#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fluff#kuroo x reader#kuroo fluff#akaashi x reader#akaashi fluff#kageyama x reader#kageyama fluff#oikawa x reader#oikawa fluff#tsukishima x reader#tsukishima fluff#hinata x reader#hinata fluff#ushijima x reader#ushijima fluff
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