chocolate chips or strawberries?
words: 1,880
ranma/akane
“Whaddya thinking too hard 'bout, tomboy?”
“I need to crack this egg into the pancake batter.”
Persistence, and stubbornness to be more precise, had been one of the main reasons Akane continued to take cooking lessons of any sort from Kasumi and Auntie Saotome. Over time, of course, she had begun to see minor improvements that squeezed her heart in ways she hadn’t considered, was she to be honest. Who would’ve thought managing to not burn her boiling water was such a great feat?
An even deeper eagerness to please herself sprawled within her and rooted itself with further enthusiasm. Just last week, although her eldest sister and Auntie Saotome were the ones to essentially prep the side dish of korokke for dinner that night, Kasumi had believed her to be ready to fry the potato croquettes. All she needed to tend was to gently drop the breaded balls into the heated oil and fetch out when golden brown. To her surprise, she hadn’t spoiled the dish, believing she'd made Kasumi proud.
As of lately, the kitchen had managed to steer off any misfortunate incidents, loosening the bounding fear that would tend to keep her within reach of said part of their home.
It was late in the morning, on a Sunday, everyone having had a wonderful breakfast with lunch still hours away, and yet Akane found herself in the kitchen. She was making pancakes. For no one in particular, except those who would like to try her food.
Auntie Saotome had advised her to concentrate on the fine motor skills of her hands; accustomed to the flick of her wrist to be gentle, rather than not. She had recommended baked goods, such as cookies and sweets, as it consists of properly measuring and mixing with hand-held tools, but also cracking eggs, helping familiarize her touch to the softness she was insisted upon.
The young woman tried not to make a mess, taking full advantage of the counterspace to help her spread her prepped dishes with sprawled ingredients throughout. She knew she was clumsy; it didn’t take Ranma reminding her every time he did witness the misfortunes of her unsuccessful tasks now and then for her to know. And so, when the all-purpose flour fell to the floor as she was trying to scoop a cup, she tried not to be surprised – although, upset? Very. When she noticed she had accidentally read the wrong measure for the baking soda, over-pouring the needed amount, she groaned mildly. Still, she continued.
Akane looked at what she believed to be the toughest challenge of that late morning yet: the egg. She needed a singular egg. Without any shell crumbs, without accidently cracking it in her hands before pulling the eggshell apart, without banging it too hard on the bowl and smashing it. Just a simple, soft flick for a regular crack.
“Whaddya thinking too hard 'bout, tomboy?”
Akane couldn’t help but roll her eyes, unamused as her unintentional glare landed on Ranma, drenched, noticing his now-smaller hands grumpily latched onto the now-red pigtail and squeeze out whatever water he could from his hair. He had been at the dojo; it was obvious, with how flustered his face seemed to glisten. A small tower draped over the back of his nape as his slender hands mindlessly used the said towel to wipe whatever excess drops dripped around his neck.
Not that she was interested in seeing that. Or interested in seeing the way his now-oversized muscle top stuck onto him like a second layer of skin, the plunging neckline challenging to expose the mounds of his breasts as they tended to do with Ranma’s careless temperament.
She cleared her throat, forcing herself to look away and back at the uncracked egg willing for its destiny of ill-fated demise or flawless fulfillment to be a part of pancakes that day. “What splashed you this time?” She asked mindlessly, her hands reaching for the egg and holding onto it for a moment, deciding to give Ranma her attention once again.
He sighed wearily, leaning his body forward, pressing his palms against the counter as he looked at the not-surprising spiel of mess his fiancée couldn’t function without when it came to her quality time in the kitchen. “Ya’ know, Pops. Surprise attack and all that.” Akane couldn't help but snort quietly, her laughter easily contagious as he was now unable to stop his own grin curl up his own lips. “It ain’t funny, yunno.” And it wasn’t, although it was in an unamusing way.
She simply shrugged her shoulders, her toothy grin beginning to lessen, giving her awaiting egg attention once again.
“What’cha giving that egg lovey eyes for?”
“I am not giving the egg lovey eyes, idiot.”
“Then what?”
She exasperated a deep sigh, unable to resist rubbing her temple, despising the question dragging the answer out her throat as she replied truthfully, “I need to crack this egg into the pancake batter.”
“You’re making pancakes?” He glanced about the counter, finding it hard to believe that her mix actually looked like a pancake mix. Hardly did he ever make pancakes, still, he was familiar with the dish mainly because of okonomiyaki.
“Trying to.”
“Well, what else ya’ waitin’ for?”
“The egg.”
“I see the egg, dummy.”
“I just...” And she was quiet, looking away for a moment too long just as she felt Ranma’s hands reach for the egg to softly take away from hers.
“Just that you’re a klutz? Probably the biggest klutz in all of Japan,” he grinned teasingly, pushing himself onto her space. She tried not to make it obvious, the way she noticed his cool arm rubbed itself against hers as he reached for an empty bowl and the carton of eggs. “Geez, Akane,” he feigned irritation, his light eyes flickering upwards momentarily, continuing, “can’t do anything without me, huh?” And Akane pouted a laughing scoff, watching the way Ranma was now holding the egg atop the empty bowl. “Watch me, you dolt.” She should’ve been upset, probably rub her knuckles against his tomato-looking head at all his name-calling, yet she leaned closer, their face now centimeters apart.
She watched his seemingly dainty hands, accessorized with calluses that didn’t magically go away no matter the gender he transformed into. He tapped the egg onto the counter twice and pricked its shell with both his thumbs to pull apart; the yellow yolk seamlessly drooping inside the bowl.
“It aint’ so hard, just don’t smash it like yer mad at it or somethin’.” Without waiting a second, he reached for an egg and offered it to her, “Practice over the bowl.” And so Akane did. Both watched her futile attempts at cracking the damn eggs. At first, she wasn’t tapping it hard enough to form a crack, and by the second tap her entire hand was coated with the slime of the egg. She knew she’d have to go buy a new few dozen for Kasumi before it was time for lunch if she didn’t want an earful, even if Kasumi didn’t give said earfuls.
At her last attempt, she noticed the way Ranma’s expression offered interest just as she had tapped it twice against the counter. Akane had been visibly upset that it cracked but not enough to help her pull apart. “Tap it again,” he told her.
“Again?”
“Yes, gently, though.”
“I know.” Akane tapped it again, unable to stop herself from glancing at Ranma for his approval. “L-like that?”
“Yeah, that’s a good crack. In fact, hold it a sec,” and before he said more, he was now pushing the practicing bowl away and pulling her pancake mix under her positioned egg. “Okay, pull it apart, Akane.” And she did.
Akane gasped, her mouth widening as she didn’t see a single eggshell crumb fall into the mix. “I did it!”
Ranma smirked, “Yeah, I saw.”
“Auntie Saotome’s gonna be so proud,” Akane gloated momentarily, careful to put the eggshells away from her bowl, taking a moment to look at Ranma with his own smug face. The way her eyes rolled was more a force-a-habit than anything, but her beaming smile told him her expression was an endearing one.
“Thanks, Ranma.” Her smile was too wide for his own good, feeling the way his chest suddenly tensed up as her glowing cheeks seemed to be on a mission to blind him.
He cleared his throat, forcing himself to look away and reach for the whisk she had seemed to be using, plopping it into the bowl before pushing the large dish towards her. “Well, c’mon, gotta finish those pancakes. I’m starvin’ a lil over here.”
He hadn’t known what he had said, but soon enough she was leaning closer to him, closer than they’d been minutes ago, as her glassy eyes seemed to have caught him off-guard, like a deer on headlights captivated by her large tawny stare. “You mean you want some pancakes?” Her tantalizing soft voice tenderly tugged at him to pay attention to every detail there was about her delightful features.
“I-I..I mean-”
And almost in slow-motion, witnessing the way her smile lessened as her eyebrows soften felt like a bullet penetrating through his chest, fully mangling his insides just as she said, “You, uh...don’t have to, you know.” He couldn’t stop the way his hands extended to latch onto hers; her soft eyebrows now scrunched as she watched him curiously. Her round cheeks were still seemingly warm with their rosy tinge.
“If it ain't gonna’ kill me, I ain't mind, ya’ know,” he gulped.
“I actually think this is a great batch,” she promised, her nose scrunching momentarily just before her widening smile returned. “Besides,” she challenged, “I haven’t killed you yet, you know.”
And he scoffed loudly, an airy laugh escaping his lips with a broad set of rolled eyes, “A miracle, I’ll say.”
She laughed again, although he somehow expected her to be angry, even for just a moment, fixing his gaze back at her again, mesmerized. Unable to look away, and as if she knew that he was looking at her in that kind of way; a way that said he was undeniably smitten by her, with flushed cheeks caused by his palpitating heart rather than the rigid exercise he’d force upon himself.
And she welcomed it.
“Ranma” she called, speaking his name quietly, noticing the way her exposed throat swallowed nothing, piquing his attention, not noticing that he’d gotten closer to her now, waiting for her to speak again. And she didn’t pull away or push him away.
Instead, her eyes lazily looked down at his, dancing about his face just as they landed on his lips when he replied, “Y-yeah?”
“Chocolate chips or strawberries?”
“S-strawberries.”
“Okay.” And just as she did pull away, Ranma’s hands reached to hold her lower arms, somehow managing to keep her in place, just as he wanted her to be. She smelled heavenly, pushing away the faint scent of all the other ingredients that she’d manage to get on her. He tried not to whiff her in, her light fragrance familiarizing her to him far too easily, with the mixtured aroma of her.
She didn’t move away, and rather stayed put, as if waiting for him to say something – anything, really. But then he said back, “Okay.”
“Look away, dummy,” Akane huffed, her eyebrows knitted in concentration as her fingers fumbled with an embroidery she’d been working on for a few days now.
“What, do I make ya’ nervous?” Ranma teased, his voice low and soft, catching the way her brown eyes blinked once to look at him and then back at the project at hand.
She scoffed airily, “I’m just trying to concentrate.” Still, he continued to watch her.
Both were sharing the family room’s space, the small television in a low hum with a string of commercials, each on different sides of the table. The afternoon had been pleasantly quiet, surprisingly. Auntie Saotome and Kasumi had been out for the afternoon, and Nabiki resided in her bedroom until dinner. Their fathers had apparently gone to some shogi event taking place today.
“Ain’t nothing much to threading a needle up and down, Akane.”
This time she did look at him fully, her nose wrinkling unpleasantly as she mocked a face, “Shut up, Ranma. I’m almost done, and I just want Auntie Saotome to –– ow!”
“Idiot,” Ranma tsked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, his eyes laced with concern as he reached for her hand, having witnessed where the needle had accidently pricked her finger.
“See, you distracted me.”
“How’s this my fault?”
Within minutes, his large hands had handled her mild wound, having wiped the blood off with an alcohol wipe and wrapping a small bandage around the injured skin. Her smaller hand rested within his, relaxed just as he finished, unable to pull away as Ranma’s hold seem to wonder about her palm.
His fingertips skimmed at her skin, a concentrated expression overtaking his face, as though exploring something new with interest. The many calluses that spread about her skin had seemed to catch his attention, knowing it was something they shared, which felt silly to think about. And he was aware of the calluses she sported based on the hundreds of times he’d held her hand, and as of recently not just to pull her out of danger.
Of course she had calluses, she specialized on using her bare hands to battle against everything and anything she deemed necessary – like practicing on towers of bricks.
Without thinking much about it, his thumb was now grazing over them, his light eyes glancing up to look at her darker ones.
“Do they hurt?” He knew he could answer his own question considering he wore a set of calluses on his own hands. Yet, he waited for her response.
“No,” she replied truthfully, aware at what he was referring to. She tried to pull her hand away, again, stopping at Ranma’s halt with a mild grip around her wrist. And he smirked timidly at the way her cheeks had begun to tinge delightfully. At that, he decided to press his callused palm against hers, intertwining his long fingers in between, leaning forward to look at her.
“Why are you so brash?” He asked, his question a quiet one, but audible with a seemingly stern expression.
Akane stayed put, a pouty face of her own with understanding at what he was calling brash. She knew it wasn’t meant to be a distasteful comment, but rather an observation he was vocalizing aloud.
“Why do you care?” She challenged, and could sense her playfulness, the corners of her mouth curling lightly.
He scoffed, rolling his eyes as he pulled his closeness away from her, “I don’t.”
“Then stop holding my hand,” she urged, not upset but nonetheless attempted to free herself from his fingers. And they only seemed to tighten, a forming frustrated expression willing her to stop as he invaded her space once more.
“You’re so uncute, ya’ know that?”
“So why are you holding my hand, if I'm so uncute?” She had expected him to let go, release their entwinement, but he didn’t say anything. He continued to stay silent, his own flustered cheeks now making their appearance.
Her smile widened, the corners of her eyes squinting childishly as it was her turn to lean forward, both closer than they’d been all day. “You like holding my hand, don’t you Saotome?” He scoffed again, rolling his eyes this time around, looking away before she gently tightened their grip, “I like holding your hand, too, y’know.”
Ranma’s smirk spread largely on his cheeks, willingly giving her his entire attention once again as he replied, quite boastfully, “Yeah, I can tell." And Akane couldn’t help but chuckle along, softly shaking her head in mild disbelief.
Hi! First of al THANK YOU for your comments. They made my day T-T. I will reply to them later. So exited you're enjoying the fic. As this is my first, it means even more that you talk about my writing. To which I have to also credit Hanna for alpha (+ some beta) and Luna12 (beta). That being said... I have an idea that I want you to feel SUPER FREE to dismiss. Luna12 has been busy and I'm looking for a "Backup beta reader". Would you want to help for some chapters? Have a lovely day~~
hihiii<333
No worries at all! Take your time commenting back! As long as you know I'm thoroughly enjoying your story, you've done an incredible job! Kudos to your alpha/beta readers that have helped with your writing journey! And I'm incredibly honored for you wanting to consider me a back up beta..I'd be delighted..I will have some upcoming free time, and whenever Luna12 isn't available, I'd be more than happy! <333
Lovescaping (noun · poetic)
/luhv-skay-ping/
A romantic act of escaping with someone you deeply love—often in secret or with spontaneity—to begin a life together outside of expectations or traditions. It’s not just running away to marry; it’s the emotional journey of choosing to love boldly, freely, and intimately.
read in ao3
inspired by: ♡♡♡
“Now listen, Akane–”
There was an essence of relief that seamlessly spread about Ranma’s chest as soon as he barged into Akane’s bedroom, as he tended to do, the action of knocking and waiting to be let in out the window along with the buildup of frustration that weighted atop his shoulders when being told that she had agreed to the wedding.
As the pigtailed wearing young man’s large eyes landed atop his fiancé, he needed to remind himself to breathe. She smiled softly at him, her rosy cheeks welcoming him effortlessly as her wedding dress abundantly accessorized her from head to toe.
She firmly held onto her bouquet of flowers, her own sense of nervousness; her lipstick smile widening as she greeted him, having expected for him to march in through her bedroom door in his Ranma-like demeanor, just as he did.
“Hello, Ranma,” she said tenderly, her spoken words swaddling his heart, unsure if she was aware of the power she wielded when it came to him.
“Um...uh...” He was usually a stumbling mess, beyond repair, actually; although he couldn’t help but try and justify himself this time around, because she looked beautiful beyond words. And she was dressed, for him. How could he not be a stumbling mess – or at least, more than usual? Still, he was unable to find the proper words to uphold just how dreamlike she was, standing there, waiting for him.
“Do you think I’d look better in a kimono...?”
In all truthfulness, she could’ve been wearing a rice sack, and she’d look heavenly.
couldnt get them outta my head so naturally im back
Sharing a space had become the most normal thing about them, Akane had noticed. Everywhere she went, there he was. In the mornings, they’d seem to bump shoulders as they made her way down the stairs for breakfast if he wasn’t already eating. The walk to school required both, apparently. During lunch, if he was still hungry and didn’t have enough money to buy himself an extra bite at the cafeteria, it didn’t take long to find her and see if she’d be finishing whatever bento Kasumi made that day.
Their walks home had been quite uneventful, she’d noticed, appreciating the peace of no bicycle bell ringing in a teasing menace nowadays. If they weren’t at the dojo, they’d be sharing the space of the family room; she enjoyed some evening television now and then, Nabiki typically having beat her to the remote and calling dibs. Tonight, the youngest tendo found herself with no older sister, yet couldn’t claim control of said remote.
When taking her last step into the family room after remembering Nabiki would be out for the evening, she hadn’t considered that her fiancé was wanting to enjoy some cable entertainment.
Ranma was laying on his side, a bag of rice cakes just at arm’s reach, laughing quietly by himself. Without much of a thought, she stepped further into the family room, stopping until reaching him and letting herself sit beside him. He glanced up at her momentarily, acknowledging her presence with a mumbled, “Hey, tomboy,” before returning his attention back towards the television.
He laughed again, and she returned his greetings quietly. He was seemingly captivated by the purposeful funny obstacle course on television in which every competitor’s goal was to finish the race, failing miseribly, or rather comically, getting knocked out midway or just as they were beginning their race. And for obvious reasons, that seemed to bright up Ranma.
And she had caught herself thinking, it was delightful, his laughter that is.
“Look at this idiot, Akane,” he snorted, “he ain’t gon’ make it.”
She glanced at the television, chuckling along with him for a moment before returning her attention back at the young boy having a grand time. She gingerly bit her lower lip, trying to withhold her own grinning smile, finding herself fawning at the way his laughter resonated within just them two.
It tugged at her heartstrings, furrowing her eyebrows at the instant realization that she was probably appearing like a lovesick adolescent, even if she was; she didn’t seem to bother about such details. Instead, she allowed herself a moment, and listened to his laughed carefully. She wanted to memorize it, engrave into her brain the way the corner of his grin curled high.
And just then, he looked up when it cut to commercials, lifting an eyebrow, suddenly making her become conscious as to how she must’ve appeared with her own stupefied expression. Still, it was hard to disperse of the corners of her lips, unable to hide how joyous she felt.
“You ‘kay, Akane?” He began sitting up, adjusting himself to lean forward, his smile and laughter dismissed for a curious one. And he was suddenly too close, and she could take in the extra details of his face, such as the elongated length of his eyelashes blinking expectantly at her.
“Yeah,” she replied with a bigger smile, creases forming around her eyes as she continued, “I was just enjoying your laugh.” And her own laughter erupted as she saw the shift of his eyebrows raise high, with a subtle hint of blush overtake his face, yet he stayed put.
“Y-yeah?” He hadn’t known what to say to that, and she found his nervousness enduring, nodding timidly at him.
“Yes,” she said.
“Geez, Akane,” he breathed in, his voice hardly audible in an under breath, “saying things...like-like-”
“Like I’d love to hear your laughter forever?” She teased childishly, giggling as such just as her hands reached to hold his cheeks and squeeze, her teeth showing as she wrinkled her nose, “Aren’t I lucky?”
He didn’t say anything to that, but she could see the way his eyes soften as they looked at her, along with his eyebrows, pulling her in as she smiled more tenderly at him.
“You’re such a... such a...”
“Dork? Dweeb?” She laughed louder, releasing her hold on his face, not surprised when Ranma’s own hands instantly reached for hers to hold. His flustered face beamed brightly, and oh, god, how she loved him.
this was supposed to be shorter but I just kept on typing ahahaha anyhow just ranma and akane being silly??
Ranma sat cross-legged in front of the family room’s table, transformed in his female body with bright strands of hair overtaking his forehead, damp and waiting for it to dry completely not having bothered to turn back.
The television’s low hum quite audible, as he found himself alone. Kasumi was in the kitchen with his mother, prepping for dinner, he supposed, but his pops and Mr. Tendo didn’t seem to be home. Nabiki was in her bedroom, and Akane was just making herself known as she walked in.
The youngest Tendo sister eyed him curiously, her eyebrows furrowing at him as her fiancé didn’t seem to be enjoying whatever entertainment daytime programming was to be offering, but rather dubiously glaring at Nabiki’s instant camera. The object was placed atop the table, seemingly harmless; it wasn’t like it was a recording device, that she knew of –– although with how fast modern technology was progressing nowadays, one was never too sure. Still, she couldn't deny she consider his doing quite odd, it only tugged at her inquisitiveness.
She made her way towards him, taking a seat beside him, mindlessly fixing her skirt by gently pulling at the hem. She looked at the camera, and then at him, beginning to pry at him, “Whatcha’ looking at?”
He grumbled, his seemingly painful expression turning into annoyance as he glanced at her from the corner of his eye, replying, “Contemplating.”
“Contemplating what?”
Ranma sighed, rolling his eyes away from her, finding himself thinking out loud, “If I wanna destroy th-this thing,” the word ‘thing’ seemingly distastefully bitter on his tongue, his face twisting in the process as he was now opposing himself from looking at the said thing.
“Destroy it? Why would you want to destroy Nabiki’s camera?” And just as she was asking the question, her voice was thinning, understanding almost instantly why he stared at the device with so much malice. The camera had been the weapon of choice Nabiki constantly used to try and monetize from Ranma’s cursed form, quite frankly, succeeding grandly.
Akane easily validified his desire to dismantle the device. Although, she knew it wouldn't be the smartest thing to do, and as Ranma exasperated a sigh, she knew he had realized this, too. “Stupid camera,” Ranma muttered under his breath, and her expression softened.
“Cameras aren’t stupid,” Akane found herself commenting, in actuality finding the concept of capturing tender moments in a still frame for forever quite lovely.
“They are to me,” he retaliated, watching him straighten his posture, appearing as though he was ready to pick a fight, knowing he was rather irritated by the camera itself than her.
“You just need to change the way you view cameras.” He tsked, unconvinced as Akane’s hands reached for the device and clicked it on, adjusting it mildly and quickly before she glanced back at Ranma, saying, “Let’s take a picture together.”
“Now, why would I-”
“I’m not taking the picture if you don’t want to, Ranma.” Her voice was soft and understanding, secure in the way that told him she wanted to take a picture with him, rather than of him.
She was smiling small, her large eyes blinking a few times towards him as she was about to set the camera down before he interrupted, “Just one?”
“Or more, if you wanna’.”
He smiled at that, and she mirrored his expression, settling herself next to him. She pressed her arm against his, tilting her head onto his as she beamed, “Three, two, one! Cheese!” Her smile was wide and mesmerizing, her flushed cheeks bright, and before he could react the flash had blinded him momentarily. Soon enough the photograph was beginning to print, finding himself blinking a few times just as the picture was forming.
Akane’s giggle was loud in his ears, blushing immensely as his fiancée brought the photograph up their faces, saying, “You look so silly.” When she had stopped laughing, her face had seemed to relax with furrowed eyebrows, the quietness overtaking them for a mere moment, as if thinking to herself the question she was asking, “Can I keep this one?”
Ranma looked at her, and then at the photograph in which it was showing how blatantly obvious he was captivated by her. His blushing cheeks almost matched his hair, but especially the way his light eyes admired her just as Akane has snapped the photo, not quite allowing him to compose himself. And it was embarrassing to say the least, especially considering it was one of them as both girls.
He could feel his entire body heat up, his cheeks overwhelming his entire face, it felt. “Wh-why this one?”
“We can take another one, so you can keep that one.” Akane suggest quickly, her toothy grin over biting onto her lower lip, a mischievous stare penetrating through him that made him agree so quickly with a simple nod. As if wasting Nabiki’s film on such “silly” photographs was rascal enough to consider payback.
He didn’t mind by any means, the way Akane resettled herself once more against Ranma’s arm, as she said, “But smile this time, okay?” She leaned her head onto Ranma’s shoulder, adjusting her posture that fit perfectly with his, her floral aroma far more notable, “Look at the camera in three, two...cheese!”
And her voice was just as cheerful as the first time, happy and joyous, her radiance easily contagious as he felt the tensing feeling upon his chest threating to combust.
The way her smile never faltered amazed him, adoring her patience as she waited for the still-developing photograph to show.
“See?” Akane asked, and he leaned toward the photos, observing each with warmer cheeks yet. “Cameras aren’t so bad,” she grinned. And she was right.
tangible. ao3 | ff.net
ship: ranma/akane
words: 8,434
Ranma comes to the rescue when Akane finds herself just a tad tipsy; he just wasn't expecting her to be confessing such things. post-manga.
There were many things Akane missed after graduating high school, particularly the absence of her friends. There was a sense of longing after the stretched hours the young girls seemed to spend chatting among themselves – about everything and not anything all at once.
The dark-haired woman merrily sat across her two friends, a smile tugging at her lips as she twirled the plastic straw in her tall glass of iced tea. She had kept her short hair and bangs; she wore makeup nowadays, although usually, it only consisted of tinged lip balm and curling her eyelashes. She listened intently, smiling as Yuka and Sayuri chatted away. They all attended different schools now, and today had been the first time, in a long time, managing to meet up.
They grabbed lunch at a nearby bistro within the plaza they strolled after, leisurely passing the time. And it wasn’t that Akane wanted to be dramatic, but she was unable to help herself from missing the domestic essence of being a woman in the city, enjoying the ordinariness of a day.
Their conversations seemed to be endless, looping about each other’s lives as they walked down memory lane, Akane wishing the day didn’t have to end so soon. And so, when Yuka suggested, “Let’s grab a drink before heading out,” she couldn’t help but nod encouragingly.
“So, no baby just yet?”
continue reading in my ao3 or ff.net account
Akane had snapped her head up so quickly, her fingertips tensed against the glass, unable to hide the utter disbelief at the question just thrown at her. She wrinkled her nose as some sort of reaction, all the while her mind rushing, already trying to find way to steer the conversation elsewhere.
Still, she managed to calm her breath when noticing her friends chuckle softly, noting they were likely just trying to tease her somehow.
They had already asked about Ranma, having been quite appreciative that their inquiries about her marriage had been kept short and at a minimum. There hadn’t been more to their simple questions of “how’s it like being the Mrs.?”
Akane had believed the topic would be dropped once moving on to the next subject at tow, but the mentions of a baby concentrated on other variables to the question, such as the insinuations that she and her husband have had, well, sex . And as a complete virgin, that was quite impossible: that is, get pregnant when they hadn’t even made it past the first base, let alone go all the way .
She just wanted to laugh it off, and she almost succeeded, rolling her eyes in an aloof sort of way that convinced her if she didn’t pay the question much attention, neither should they.
Of course, this was Yuka and Sayuri.
“Oh, c’mon, Akane,” Sayuri scoffed endearingly, leaning forward with a cheeky grin too wide to ignore, insisting that she say something, anything, hoping to coax her into oversharing, “what’s it like?”
“Well,” Akane sipped her drink in hopes of drowning down the gnawing knot at the back of her throat, “like I said earlier, it’s like it’s always been, I guess.”
“Still getting dragged into weird situations?” Yuka teased.
The married woman smiled meekly unable to deny such a claim.
“Bet that heavy rock helps keep weirdos from approaching you, though?”
Akane glanced down at her engagement ring, the one that used to belong to Auntie Saotome and was now comfortably resting on her slim finger, along with her wedding band. She skimmed her fingertips over the stones cautiously, as if remembering for the first time that day that she had been wearing them. She couldn’t help but smile fondly, bashful and unknowing as to why she suddenly felt embarrassed. It reminded her that she was married, and in love. That’s normal, expected even, yet, Akane couldn’t stop the crimson shade overtaking her cheeks from just remembering the way she felt about him.
And although their theory made sense, Akane hadn’t needed to strut her engagement ring with the purpose of repelling men, most probably having to do with the fact that she didn’t go out alone much. Ranma, her husband, usually accompanied her everywhere, unless she asked him not to, but hardly ever did she not want him to go with her.
“It’s so hard to find a nice guy nowadays. They’re all...”
“Weird?” The two young women giggled childishly at each other, and Akane chuckled lightly at them unable to relate, wishing she could offer advice, but was coming short. Not about dating or anything relating of such sorts.
“Okay, but seriously,” Yuka smirked mischievously, propping her chin against her palms, her elbows sturdy on the table as she interrogated, “how’s the sex? Is it as good as we all expected?”
Expected?
Akane was stammering now, sweating bullets as the seconds passed, glaring at her curious friends, not knowing what to say. Because in all honesty, there wasn’t anything to say. She shouldn’t have felt embarrassed by such a detail; so, she hadn’t made love with her husband – that wasn't precisely a bad thing.
Did she sometimes have desires of Ranma touching her? She couldn't deny that claim, either.
“Yes, how is it? Kinda expecting the best of the best.”
Akane’s nose wrinkled at the way their teasing pulled at her insides, unknowing why but nervous forced to think about such a topic. “What,” she cleared her throat gently, “...what do you mean by that?”
“I mean, c’mon, Akane,” Yuka grinned waywardly, slightly blushing, slightly bothering Akane more than it should have. “He’s like this great martial artist, athletic guy,” she continued speaking in a matter-of-fact sort of tone, “I’m sure he’s great at, I don’t know…pleasing you?” The last statement had been spoken in a hushed tone, leaning slightly forward, eager for whatever Akane had to share.
“Shut up, shut up,” Akane gasped, nervously glancing around them, not knowing how to stop talking about all of this . “Can we not talk about this?”
And with the many years they had known the flustering mess their friend could be, unitedly they had come to the conclusion, accusing, “You haven’t had sex with your husband?”
Akane shushed them furiously, ready to go home. And yet, as she looked at her friends begging for a further discussion as to what was the intimacy of her married life, she found herself caving in with an exasperated sigh, “N-no. Not yet.” She winced again, because the word yet defined that it was going to happen.
Unironically, Ranma had never shown to not be interested in her beyond an arranged marriage. They had kissed. A lot – and oh, god, was it good.
Three iced teas down, and deeper into the conversation than she initially had intended to be, Akane rubbed her temples, tired and slightly sleepy. Frustrated, too.
Of course, she didn’t appreciate the urge to rapport on such affairs, but it wasn’t like she was estranged to the idea of yearning to lay with her husband. There were just so many obstacles to factor in, and the most important one being: were they ready to have sex? Tossing aside that they were married, essentially forced to share what used to be just her bedroom, it wasn’t all that of a silly question. They hadn't been ready then; how would they know if that’d changed?
Their first few nights as a married couple, Ranma simply insisted on sleeping on the floor, in hopes that she wasn’t uncomfortable.
Although the whole situation was new to the both of them, they were familiar to their dispositions, and Akane appreciated what he was trying to do. After almost of week, she insisted he share the bed with her – unless he didn’t want to. Of course, bad habits die hard, and couldn’t resist herself throwing in, “You probably were expecting something more...sexy, huh?”
She hadn’t known exactly why she had accused such a thing, when they had talked about their arrangement, and had agreed they wanted to be together. Yet, having him not want to share a bed clouded her thoughts. Wasn’t that what husband and wife did?
“Cut it out, Akane, y’know that ain’t why.”
“Then what is it?” The urgency to know trumped over her comfortability of just letting the situation unravel on its own terms. If he didn’t want to be with her, she deserved to know.
“At night,” he had said, and Akane nodded intently, “if I hold ya’, I just don’ wanna’ make ya’ freak out or nothin’.”
“Ranma,” Akane sighed heavily, slightly relief that was his concern. Still, she could understand where this rooted from, and instead reached for his hand, tangling her fingers in between his, smiling rosily, “I want you to hold me.”
They couldn’t exactly remember when it started to happen, or precisely how, but soon enough the pair had permitted themselves to explore one another.
It wasn’t scheduled by any means, but usually after her bath, when Akane was getting ready for bed, ruffling her towel through the short strands of her damp hair, she’d be quick to notice Ranma’s immense blushing as he tried to be sneaky when she'd catch him looking at her. And she knew he wanted to kiss. Akane would take a seat on the bed with him, Ranma easily setting whatever book he was reading down, easing her mind to notice that she wouldn’t be competing for his attention against his favorite pass time.
The young woman would lean forward until invading his personal space, accompanied by a reassuring smirk that ghosted just above his lips until he was kissing her.
Only once did she suspect Ranma wanting to go beyond kissing.
Ranma’s hand had begun migrating its way to rest up her shoulder, feeling his palm sprawl until his fingertips skimmed the crook of her neck. She remembered how gently he pressed against her skin, igniting something within her as his thumb mindlessly grazed about her jaw, so tenderly.
Akane had gasped into his kiss, her mouth widening, tilting her head in a welcoming manner, ignoring that she was beginning to run out of breath. She was melting within his grasp – at the way his fingers rooted themselves against the nape of her neck.
His lips always felt so good against her own; wet, and gentle with each stroke. But that night, Ranma’s mouth felt as though it would blister against her flesh. His firm hold pulled her towards him, and she couldn’t help but comply. She pushed herself upwards, inhaling the ravishing aroma of him, entranced at the way his newly hand position had possessed her so effortlessly.
There came a time she couldn’t breathe anymore, and forced herself to pull away, calling his name in a hoarse tone in hopes he’d let her take in some air while trying to compose her boggled mind. “Ranma,” was all she had managed to say as she blinked her half-lidded eyes a few times. But before she could say more, tell him how much she was enjoying whatever this was , the poor fool quickly excused himself and rushed out the bedroom. She didn’t see him that night, or half of the next day, leaving her to wonder about so many things because this kiss hadn’t been like any of the others.
Did she want to have sex with Ranma? Oh, god, maybe she was a pervert.
Akane’s eyebrows crinkled towards each other as she closed her eyes, seemingly in pain. “I just- it’s...” How does she even ask that question so directly?
Do you have any pregnancy/ children fic recommendations?? Yours is so cute I can’t get it out of my head!
im so sorry for taking a minute to answer your ask, but i was trying to go through some of my fav's to see if i came across anything, and tbh i don't have any that must've stuck bc i don't have anything to offer! but im really hoping maybe others can jump in and suggest some great recommendations!
also, thank you for the kind comment!!<333 maybe i'll give the pregnancy au a try, ranma as an expecting father would be hilarious!
Ranma and Akane throughout their relationship in which they wondered about each other, and the one time they didn’t need to anymore.
a/n: this is JUST the ending part of the longer fic btw [words: 2,331]
“Okay. Okay,” Akane released a deep breath as she closed her eyes, taking a moment to ease her mind and body as she sat with crossed legs atop her bed. “Just walk over to him. Mistletoe over his head, and then kiss him.” Right, as if it were that easy – otherwise she wouldn't be such a nervous wreck.
According to Nabiki, after talking to Auntie Saotome and Kasumi, they were to be wed by Spring. They, being she and Ranma, of course. She was fine with it, had come to terms with the whole situation long ago . All she had asked of her father and Auntie Saotome had been to wait after her university's graduation, which was up coming the following semester; they had fulfilled the end of their bargain by agreeing.
Naturally, after the misfortunes that came about their last attempted wedding so many years ago, this wedding would be hushed with only immediate family attending. Afterwards, at Auntie Saotome’s insistence, they’d throw a larger celebration to announce the union of both schools and families.
Ranma had trained all night at the dojo after the rest of their lives had been arranged that evening during dinner, as if it were another checked off task on the to-do list, and she had wondered if he was upset at her. Maybe not at her, but the whole ordeal. But then, it all continued as it was. He’d bump her when racing down the stairs at Kasumi’s call for dinner or battle as to who had first dibs on the bathroom when they’d reach it at the same time.
But then Nabiki asked, oh, how she had hated that damn question , “Have you two even kissed?” Of course not!
Their relationship had remained so normal, sometimes she’d forget the wedding was actually happening and she’d have to kiss him and live with him and introduce him as her husband. Although, she didn’t have to kiss him, but oh god did she want to. Making herself think about it, she didn’t want their official kiss to be on their wedding night.
Her cheeks flushed quickly, imitating variant berries as she cupped them, shaking her head embarrassingly just thinking about it – their wedding night.
Akane jumped slightly at the sudden knock at her door, starling her as she called for them to come in.
“Hey,” Ranma popped his head in, holding a mug steaming as he offered it to her, “Kasumi sends some hot chocolate. The climate’s dropping and she wants to keep us warm. Considering it’s almost Christmas, she insisted on hot chocolate,” he smirked, inviting himself to take a seat on the bed next to her.
She could feel the scrambling of her insides jumble and knot within her abdomen when she felt his shoulders press against hers. They were both wearing long sleeves, but nonetheless, their shoulders were touching. She took the mug from his hand, thanking him under her breath as she looked at the chocolate filled mug with a soft smile, feeling like such a child with a crush.
She held a tight grip on the handle, breathing in slowly and then breathing out slower. Just do it. Right? No, that wouldn’t be right. Also, Ranma would stop it before she even got close to him, considering his agility. Bad plan. Bad idea. She chewed her lower lip nervously.
“Everything alright?” His sudden inquiry pulled her out of thought, and she glanced up at him with one raised eyebrow.
“Uh, yeah. Why wouldn't it be?”
“Well, for starters,” he sighed rubbing his shoulder against hers, such familiarity cozying her further, and her smile only widen, “you have hot chocolate and haven’t taken a sip.”
He had noticed her distracted face as soon as he had walked in, unable to mask it as quickly as she would have wanted, and he was curious. Worried, too, but she didn’t need to know that.
“What if I wasn’t craving hot chocolate?” She joked with a cocked eyebrow, lifting the mug slowly to her lips to take a slow taste as to test how hot it was.
“You’re a dork.”
She only grinned.
Half done with her mug, Akane placed it on her desk, adjusting herself comfortably to be facing him rather than sitting sideways. They had sat together for quite some time, chatting, and one topic led to another and now they were discussing how pressing and overindulged his mother was. Something she was glad they could both agree on.
“If it was up to your mom, we’d be getting married tomorrow,” Akane grinned at the absurdity of it all. It felt incongruous sitting together knowing they’d to be married in just four months when they hadn’t even officially kissed yet . Yet impling that the moment was to come, and what better time than the present, right? She knew she shouldn’t be thinking about it, their nonexistent kiss, but he was right there and she was sitting so close. She could just lean foward, and maybe he’d allow it.
Maybe he wanted to kiss her, too.
Her laughter decreased softly, clearing her throat as she watched the pigtail wearing man drag the palm of his hands up and down his face with seemingly frustration.
“I know, I know,” he replied, a sigh of his own before looking over at her, noticing the intense stare she was offering. One that told him she was thinking about something, brewing an idea, but wasn’t quite sure how to drag it out of her. “You sure there isn’t anything ya’ wanna talk about?” He tried again, shimming at her side, hoping his persistence would get him just a bit further.
“Well,” she pursed her lips, glancing to the left and then to the right, as if pondering about something so nonessential, like an outfit she’d sport to a classmate’s holiday party.
Shut up. Shut up. SHUT UP.
“Well?”
And then he watched her lean towards her desk, watched her open the top drawer and pull out a plant of some sort, as she held it delicately. And then she brought it towards, spreading her palm as the small stem laid on her flat hand in between them, watching him stare at it.
“I was thinking...and I think we should...?” She gulped the inventible lump clogged at the back of her throat not letting her finish her question as Ranma’s eyebrows furrowed together, curious as to what she was getting at.
“Should what?”
Akane groaned mildly, an eyebrow of her own twitching at his ignorance, “You’re really going to make me say it?” Irritation was getting the best of her, but mainly because she already found this embarrassing enough.
But they were to be married; they were to share a lifetime of embarrassing moments, right?
“Kiss.”
She blinked a few times, staring at the mistletoe laying on her palm, like that was the kiss itself.
“Kiss?” He repeated, and this time she looked up to find him pondering, tapping his index finger against his chin and she couldn’t help but chuckle at just how dumb he looked.
“We don’t have to,” Akane sighed, pulling away, but almost instantly both of her wrists were gripped and tugged forward by Ranma’s hands, and suddenly she forgot how to breathe.
Ranma must have yanked her a tad too hard because she was now only centimeters away from his face, and she could see his light eyes scanning about her face as she tried to keep herself calm. His messy fridge just reached his nose bridge, and easily caught a whiff of her floral shampoo on him.
“You want to kiss me?” He asked, and that was enough to knock her out of her daze. It wasn’t a lie, but she figured his question was coming from his egotistic self, rather than curiosity.
“I was saying,” Akane continued, gently trying to push herself away but not successfully releasing the grip of his hands around her wrist, “maybe it’d be a good idea to kiss now,” she swallowed as Ranma softly tugged her once more, “rather...rather than wait...for the...wedding.”
“Okay.” He breathed in, his half-lidded eyes watching her carefully. His voice was low, and she almost missed his verbal agreement at how distracted she was by his eyelashes pulling her in.
“Okay?” It was that easy?
“Y-yeah,” he stammered, his face so close that the tip of their noses skimmed faintly, “if ya’ wanna.”
“Do you...do you want to?” Her voice was so delicate, it seemed, hushed as she waited for his answer. The question itself was insecure, and full of hope, and could easily break her. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to ask so early, but rather two months before the wedding. The thought itself sounded so absurd in her mind, she wanted to laugh.
“I mean, I don’t mind if ya’ don’t,” he answered truthfully, and she scanned his face for any sarcasm, any disgust, and malice, but there was none. He watched her in wonder, with curiosity, making her feel dainty.
“I don’t mind.” She replied quickly.
And then she closed her eyes waiting for him, and he looked down at her, taking an extra moment to take in all the soft features of her round face with her glowing cheeks and curved nose. The hold around her wrist lessened, and instead he pushed his palms higher around her lower arm, as if to ground himself before kissing her.
It was timid, the way he brushed his lips against hers; like feathery light touches, almost tentative about kissing her. But then he pushed just a tad further into her, and his hands lightly squeezed her arms. It felt good. He figured he was supposed to pull away after just one kiss, but he found himself wanting to continue kissing her.
And maybe she did, too, because he caught the way her mouth opened just a bit when he pushed for another. It was slow, and very new, but there was a tingling sensation vibrating from his mouth down his neck and up his face that kept him wanting more. It was a good new.
Her lips were softer than he’d imagine they’d ever be (not that he thought about her lips often), and as he continued kissing her, they were beginning to burn, in a good way; in a great way.
He could feel her hands reach for his face, each fingertip almost stinging as they pressed onto his cheeks, easily melting against his skin. Had he known that kissing Akane felt this good, he would have done it a long time ago. Her palms smoothed across his skin towards his ears, dragging themselves down to settle on his neck, edging him to pull her closer.
This was supposed to be a chaste kiss, right?
He felt her nudge away momentarily, and he took that as a sign to pull away instantly because otherwise he wouldn’t. And when he did so, it took him a moment to open his eyes to look down at her already gazing up at him. She was breathing heavily, as was he, and her lips were reddish, like cherries. And she looked so beautiful, and he could admit that to himself and to her if she wanted to hear it.
And then she laughed a breathy laugh, one that kept her smile intact with a toothy grin, her eyes searching his as she found herself compelled to say, “That was a good kiss.”
Ranma chuckled, not sure why they found the situation amusing, but nonetheless refreshing. “Good.” He could feel the warmth easily diminish as she pulled her hands away from his skin, and he went to catch them, holding her hands in between his, “Are we...can we...?”
Akane’s eyebrows pricked up at his unfinished question, allowing him a moment before she asked, “Do you want to kiss me again?” This time it was her egotistic-self rubbing it on his face, but she couldn’t help but find herself suddenly so sheepish.
He knew she could see his ruddy face as soon as she was done asking, but man, did he want to kiss her that way again if she’d let him.
“Ain’t that the sort of thing people do when they’re in love?” His question had been rushed out, in an attempt to remedy his embarrassment, with pure genuity. And then he heard himself ask it. “What I mean–”
“Ranma,” Akane giggled, her hands pushing strands of hair away from his face, her touch very soft and tender as she looked at him, “you can kiss me any time you want.”
“Any time?”
She nodded slowly; a sly grin plastered on her face as she leaned closer to him, enough to peck him into another kiss, had he pushed himself forward.
How is you doing? I've noticed you're currently a bit less active (idk how this sounds but it's supposed to sound like a check in, not like pressure, pls don't feel pressured, i don't want to make you feel bad, you're cool!!)
the way I’m crying?? this is such a sweet message, thank you sm for sending it and wanting to check in on me (im so sorry ti’s just a late response!!)…i’ve been busy with life so it’s kinda hard to check in here sometimes but this weekend i have some time…i do plan on posting soon, but my scraps are just unfinished ideas and scattered all over the place lol you wouldn’t wanna read those…but im okay, thank you for asking. halloween was sm fun, and excited for xmas hehehhe
how have you been my friend?? i hope wonderful! <333
d-did i watch it??? um yessss!! it was so good, enjoyed it very much! the hd of it, the op (such a danceable bop!), the ed (still have myself freaking out abt all the lil details about it!!!), ALL THE MANGA ACCURATE CAPS??? HELLO??? ACCURACY IS ALL WE WANT..the animation was so flawless, AND DID YOU SEE THE ENG DUB DROPPED ALSO?? i watched it in japanese, of course, and then in english and all i can say is they knocked it outta the park!! the episode has seriously been looping throughout the week hahhaha
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secret kisses
ao3 | ff.net
ship: ranma/akane
words: 1,625
Ranma and Akane would steal kisses at every chance they got, secretly behind closed doors...usually. They hadn’t known how it began happening, but once it started it was hard to stop.
Akane had just reached the bathroom’s door when a gentle squeeze at her wrist pulled her away too easily. She yelped at the sudden movement, her body twirling to land perfectly onto Ranma’s chest, as her eyes widen when she felt his soft mouth press itself against hers. She couldn’t help but allow her lips to widen into a dopey grin, feeling the way his hands snaked themselves against the small of her back to pull her in further.
The young woman indulged effortlessly, relishing at the way he continued to pepper a number of kisses, her brain losing its trail of thought. Even after he pulled away, taking her a moment to readjust her mind and shake herself awake, remembering where they were. Still, his arms continued to stay hooked around her body, his face centimeters from hers as he whispered, “Morning, tomboy.”
She huffed a chuckle, nervously looking behind her as she smiled bashfully, warning, “We’re gonna get caught, idiot.”
He shrugged his shoulders, seemingly not caring of such consequences, his rather bold smirk tangling her insides. He was so handsome, his chiseled jaw now rubbing itself against her cheek before kissing her temple, and she could feel her feeble stance betray her completely as her knees wobbled at her nervousness.
It had been a few months of this taking place; Ranma and Akane would steal kisses at every chance they got, secretly behind closed doors...usually. They hadn’t known how it began happening, but once it started it was hard to stop. Ranma usually had the upper hand, as it was easier for him to sneak up on the shorter woman, planting one quickly and walking away just as fast before she could say anything.
Although that morning, he lingered just a tad longer, wistful to her essence. And like always, he released his hold and began walking away, leaving her completely abashed before making her way into the bathroom for her morning shower.
That afternoon, the duo had found themselves home alone, as their parents were having dinner with family friends and the eldest Tendo sisters had gone to the market, Nabiki only tagging along because the marketplace was nearby a clothing store promoting a store wide clearance, and she wanted to stroll the aisles in case something caught her eye.
Akane usually tagged along, shopping being one of her favorite pastimes, but she needed to study for finals – considering they were in their last year of high school. She had brought her studying materials to the family room in hopes that her fiancé would want to tackle the books with her; of course, he didn’t. At first, Ranma got lost in a book, not paying any mind to Akane as she silently read her textbook and scribbled mindlessly on her journal.
It wasn’t until he stepped away, going and coming back from the kitchen with some snacks Kasumi had premade before heading out after knowing Akane would be studying. He held a plate of diced fruit, munching on an apple slice as he noticed Akane’s concentrated face. She hovered over the kotatsu table, her eyebrows furrowed as she mindlessly chewed on her lower lip, and he could feel his entire body heat up.
Without much thought, Ranma made his way towards her and set the plate on the table, offering her some. She glanced quickly at it and shook her head, murmuring, “No, thanks, Ranma,” under her breath as she continued to study. He grumbled, his face souring before breathing in deeply.
“Really got your nose in that book, huh?” He muttered quietly, not thinking she’d actually hear him, or stop her study to look over at him.
“This is what studying looks like,” she replied quite sarcastically, offering him a quizzical look as to where his attitude had come from. Did it bother him that she was studying in the family room?
He took a seat next to her, rather closely she noticed, propping himself with his arms, leaning back as he looked at her. His light eyes seemed to bounce about her face before landing on her plumped lips, finding himself leaning forward to kiss her. He pulled away after a moment, his smile widening as he said, “And you look real cute doing that.”
Akane could feel her entire face change color, her heart racing at an absurd speed, having to look away otherwise she’d melt into a puddle right there and then. “G-geez, Ran-Ranma,” Akane stuttered, looking back at the table in a sense of going back to her studies, but she knew that boat had sailed. Not when Ranma decided that he wanted to kiss her instead.
“What?” He scoffed, leaning towards her with a suspicious stare, “you don’t wanna’ kiss me no more?”
“I- that’s not what- uh,” and then he kissed her again, his hand having reached for her head as he tangled his fingers into her short strands of dark hair to pull her forward. She sighed merrily into his mouth, her large eyes easily fluttering themselves shut, shivers running through her entire body at the way Ranma’s lips caressed hers.
His kiss was always soft and tender, warm with the rest of his skin. And he smelled so good, like soap and sandalwood. Yeah, she was done studying for the night.
Ranma’s eyes widen as a new parfait glass was placed in front of her, her lips widen in pure bliss, unable to hide how much she enjoyed the dessert. She sat next to her fiancée, quickly digging into a new spoonful, glancing over to catch the now-taller woman watched her with an amused expression.
“What?” Ranma asked, swallowing and finding himself get embarrassed at the way Akane’s soft smile never faltered, shaking her head as an answer.
“Nothing,” she replied quietly, “you just seem to be enjoying your sweets.”
Ranma was now blushing, not knowing exactly why. Still, she shrugged her shoulders, “What can I say? They serve a mean parfait here, I tell ya’.”
“Yeah, I can tell. This is your third serving,” she chuckled endearingly, noticing the way her blemished cheeks only managed to deepen their shade of red. “You look cute eating your dessert,” Akane confessed, now resting her chin against her propped hands, her cheeks round at the way her smile lifted them high.
She didn’t know what to say to that.
Not expecting much, Ranma’s eyes widen when she felt Akane lean forward and softly press a chaste kiss on her lips. It lasted a moment before she pulled away, the tip of her tongue licking her lower lip as she said, “That strawberry flavor is strong.” And she couldn’t help herself but laughed a tad louder as Ranma’s crimson face almost camouflaged with her red, oversized mandarin top. Now she knew why he had so much fun catching her off guard.
“Ak-Akane,” she whispered harshly, looking around seemingly paranoid, “we’re in public.”
“Ranma,” Akane scoffed softly, “Shampoo and Ukyo hardly ever come to this ice cream shop,” she assured her with a wider grin. “I think it’s okay if we kiss a little.”
Of course, they both knew that wasn’t what she meant by her statement. Still, Akane kissed her again, just as soft and just as long.
Akane had walked in to see Ranma self-train with some katas, dressed in his own gi, finding that they were matching. She smiled softly at him, shamelessly walking over to him and taking a seat in front of him. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, admiring the way his skill was easily reflected in his performance.
He stopped soon after, noticing she had sat and was watching him, admiring him. His ego was already past the roof, he couldn’t help but smirk knowingly at her, “Watching ain’t gonna help ya’ get as good as me.”
“If you sparred with me once in a while, maybe I'd get better,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes.
He walked over to her, crouching right in front of her, “Whaddya’ mean,” he retaliated, “I do spar with ya’.”
“Nuh-uh,” she accused, “all you do is avoid my hits.”
“I ain’t wanna hurt you, is all.”
“I’m going to start avoiding all your kisses, so you can see what it feels like.”
He grinned mischievously, “You can try.” His arms went to wrap themselves around her body, pulling her towards him, ready to plant one when she turned her head, chuckling under her breath.
“Not until you spar with me,” she said.
He was now pecking her entire face, her sounds of laughter and mirth loud and beautiful, and pleasing to his ears. “But you want to kiss me,” he accused, finding themselves with Ranma atop of her through all the wiggling and wobbling.
She was breathing heavily, looking up at him, his dangling braid brushing her cheek. “Not anymore.”
“Liar.”
Akane shook her head, her teasing smile never leaving her face, “I am not.”
Ranma quickly leaned down and kissed her, pulling away fast, “You like my kisses.”
“Nope.”
He kissed her again, “See?”
She wrinkled her nose, “No, that’s not doing it for me, I’m afraid.”
“What about...” And this time, Ranma’s mouth spread fuller, taking in Akane’s lips completely, his shut eyes not letting him catch the way her wide eyes twitch at how good it felt having him kiss her like that. His kiss was rough, full of passion each time he pulled away and angled his head to kiss her again and again. The pit of her stomach churned, and she shivered at the intensity of it all.
After a long moment, Ranma pulled away, their heaving chest pressed against each other's as he said, “I told ya’.”
