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saltyhyunjae · 3 years

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CHAPTER FOUR: YOU’RE NOT AN EASY MISSION

genre/warnings: angst, fluff, slow burn, enemies to lovers (?), kidnapping, criminal!tbz, mentions of guns & knives, suicide and depression mention, a bit of abuse, sangyeon is lowkey very mean in this chapter.

word count: 2.2k

summary: y/n really goes through it.

chapter three

“Finally.” You look behind Hyunjae to see Sangyeon, Juyeon, Changmin and Eric walking towards you, Sangyeon looking like he is about to kill you. You’re dead. He grabs your wrist and rips you out of Hyunjae’s grip. He drags you all the way to the house, never loosening his grip. When you guys step inside, the rest is already there waiting in the living room.

Sangyeon let’s go of you and you touch your wrist that has turned red. He turns around and before anyone even gets to speak, you feel the palm of his hand across your cheek. He hit you. You hear some of the boys gasp as you start tearing up, your cheek burning. You’re done for.

“HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT! WE SHOULD’VE KILLED YOU WHEN WE FIRST SAW YOU, BUT NO WE GAVE YOU A NICE ROOM AND WERE NOTHING BUT SWEET TO YOU. AND THIS YOUR REWARD?!” He yells as everyone just stares at the two of you.

“YOU WERE JUST GONNA REPORT US HUH? YOU WERE JUST PRETENDING TO CARE FOR US SO YOU COULD JUST BETRAY US WHEN WE LEAST EXPECTED IT, RIGHT?” His hand lifts up again and you flinch expecting another slap, but it never comes. You open your eyes to Hyunjae grabbing Sangyeon’s wrist, stopping him from slapping you. “Enough.”

Sangyeon takes a deep breath finally coming to his senses. He didn’t want to hit you, but as soon as they finally found you, he saw red. “Changmin, Eric, take her to the storage room.” He orders before walking away

When you enter the storage room, they close the door behind you. Jacob told you once before about how the storage room is the only room with a lock or cameras in the house. You sit down on the floor and finally breakdown, sobbing loudly.

When you’ve finally calmed down, you hear the lock and the door opens. It’s Jacob. He comes in with an emergency kit and gives you a faint smile. “I would ask if you’re okay but I already know the answer to that.” He tries to joke and you give him a small smile.

“Let’s see.” He gently grabs your jaw and starts cleaning up the wound on your cheek, the other one still red from the hit. You notice the bandage around his arm, around the place you stabbed him. “Sorry, I didn't know it was you.” You mutter looking down. “It’s okay, I understand.” He softly pats your shoulder.

When he’s done with your face he cleans up the wounds on your knee and elbows. You give him a barely audible ‘thank you’ and he leaves to get you blankets and a pillow. He tells you goodnight, once you two made up your ‘bed’ and as soon as he leaves you break down again, and so you cry yourself to sleep.

»»————-　➴　————-««

Weeks go by and you’re back in your room again, which now has locks on the window and a camera. Jacob brings you your meals and the only time you go outside your room is when you go to the bathroom or when they have to take you with them on their missions. During the missions you just quietly stay put.

Ever since the day you tried to escape you haven’t spoken or even looked at the boys, besides jacob. They, except for Sangyeon, tried to speak to you a few times, but you just ignored them and they eventually gave up. You’ve been crying yourself to sleep every night and besides eating all you do is sleep and shower, just waiting for your days to be over.

You’re awake but your eyes are closed trying to get more sleep. Winter is coming and it’s starting to get colder. You’ve been here for about two months now. You put your blanket over your head and sigh.

Hyunjae knocks on your door slowly opening it. You look up expecting Jacob. You two make eye contact for a second before you look down again. He gives you your breakfast and you nod at him.

You expect him to leave, but he doesn’t, instead he sits next to you on your bed. He inspects you as you eat. You look exhausted, eyes puffy from crying all night. He feels his heart breaking looking at your state. He feels so helpless, he wants to do something but he knows that he can’t. He knows how stubborn Sangyeon is, he’ll never let you go.

“I’m sorry.” He mutters, you look up at him confused. “I’m sorry I got you into this situation.” He feels like it’s all his fault, he was the one that pleaded Sangyeon, who wanted to kill you at the store after they took everything, to just keep you as a maid. Usually he would be the one to propose the idea of killing a witness, but as soon as he laid eyes on you in the store, he felt something he has never felt before, something he can't describe.

You don’t know why but you feel tears coming up. You try to turn away but Hyunjae grabs you and pulls you in a hug. You rest your head on his shoulder and start crying as he rubs your back.

Hyunjae holds you close, his heart racing faster than he thought was possible. After you have finally calmed down, Hyunjae tells you to rest up and you sleep till Jacob gives you your dinner, returning to your usual schedule.

A week later not much has changed besides the fact that now both Jacob and Hyunjae also give you your meals. They’re the only ones you interact with making small talks when they drop by.

“What does your room look like?” You ask Jacob, who places your food beside you. “Want me to show it to you?” You nod excitedly and he laughs. “Eat up then i’ll show you.”

After you’re done eating, Jacob brings you to his room. When you enter his room you’re hit with the scent of vanilla and rose. Around his wall he has posters of movies and his bed is neatly made up, just like the rest of his room. “Wow, it's pretty.” “Thank you.” He smiles looking down with his hands in his pockets.

Jacob doesn’t know why but every time he’s around he gets a bit nervous and his heart starts beating faster. He knows he shouldn’t be feeling like this since you're their captive, but he can’t help it.

You look around some more while Jacob sits on the bed. You turn your head to the right and look at the ground, spotting a gun in the corner of his room. You decide to not point it out and go on with your mini tour.

After you and Jacob talk about random things for like an hour, you go back to your room. “It was nice seeing you get out of your room again. My room is always open for you to hang out!.” Jacob smiles and you thank him before he closes the door behind him.

A few days later you have another big mental breakdown again, the fifth of the month. You want to leave. You need to leave. But you can’t. Out of frustration you grab your hair. You can’t take it anymore. You needed to find a way out. But how?

You already tried to escape once it’s impossible to do that now. You needed to end this. Suddenly Jacob’s gun comes to your mind. You needed to end them. You started laughing. You were just gonna do it, you were going to kill infamous criminals The Boyz.

You spent the next couple of days trying to come up with a plan when Jacob one day mentions they were going to have a movie night later that day, he asked if you wanted to join them but you declined. After he left you couldn’t help but smile. Tonight is the night.

»»————-　➴　————-««

“NO! No horror movies.” Eric tries to fight Changmin of him, earning a bite from the older one. Eric starts screaming and let’s go of the remote. Changmin grabs it and starts the movie. The tv is so loud they can’t hear any noises from outside the living room.

You walk into Jacob’s room about 20 minutes after the movie started, grabbing his gun. Thank god it’s loaded. You slowly walk downstairs and sneak into the kitchen, grabbing a big sharp knife. Before you enter the living room you take a deep breath preparing yourself. The boys are so into the movie they don’t notice you walking in, and thank god the lights are out too. You approach Sunwoo who is the closest to your reach. You point your knife at his neck and get ready to use it.

Sangyeon looks to his side and notices you behind Sunwoo, holding something in both of your hands. He gasps when he sees the knife and gun. “Sunwoo! Behind you!” The boys all jump up and the light goes on.

Changmin speeds to you and grabs you from behind. “Oh my God, Y/n, What the fuck.” Sunwoo breathes in shock. “Y/n! Put that down.” Hyunjae tries to stop you. You feel like you're going out of your mind. You start to laugh hysterically and then start to scream. “NO! let me go NOW!.” You laugh again. “Let me go or you guys are dying.”

“Y/n please.” Jacob tries. “I SAID LET ME GO!” You desperately try to wiggle out of Changmin's arms. You suddenly feel a tear running down your cheek. You didn’t even notice you were crying. “Y/n don’t be stupid put that dow-.” Sangyeon speaks up but you cut him off. “SHUT UP!” Anger starts racing in you, hearing his voice. “You’re the last one I wanna hear right now!” You start to see red as you break down in sobs.

“You guys are horrible. You guys are the reason I don't wanna live anymore. You guys ruined my life. YOU ALL RUINED ME. Either you guys are dying or it’s me!” “Y/n, nobody is dying tonight.” Hyunjae tries to slowly approach you.

“Oh no?” You give them a wicked smile. You notice Changmin’s grip on you loosened a bit giving you the opportunity to lift your hand that’s holding the gun. You point it up to your head. Changmin freezes up and Hyunjae’s eyes widen in fear. “Y/n!-”

Before you can pull the trigger, Juyeon knocks the gun out of your hand letting it fall onto the ground. You let out a loud scream before falling on your knees. You can’t stop your tears from falling and loud sobs from coming out of your mouth.

Both Jacob and Hyunjae run over to you and Hyunjae holds you close to his chest. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” He tries to shush you. You grasp onto his shirt and start to hyperventilate. Jacob kneels before you and runs his fingers through your hair trying to calm you down, while the rest of the boys just stand there in shock.

Hyunjae picks you up and carries you to your room. You finally calm down as he lays you down on the bed. You crawl between the sheets, your back facing him. Hyunjae stays quiet and strokes your hair as you fall asleep.

“I can’t believe she tried to kill me!” Sunwoo puts his hand in the air out of disbelief as Hyunjae walks into the room. “She tried to kill all of us, don’t feel special.” Kevin huffs earning a glare from Sunwoo. “But still!” “Shut up, she’s finally asleep.” Hyunjae sits on the couch.

“How could she be like this?” Eric sighs. Jacob takes a deep breath, he’s been trying to stay calm since the day you tried to run away, but right now the frustration is taking over him.

“Are we surprised she’s like this?!” His voice raises a bit, surprising the members. “Didn’t you guys hear her? We ruined her! She did nothing to this deserve this, yet we got her into this stupid situation!”

“You just had to slap her.” Younghoon turns to Sangyeon. “I don’t know, I didn't want to.” Hyunjae rolls his eyes. “Then apologize.” “Like apologizing is gonna do something.” Sangyeon huffs. “Right, I'm sure she hates us for life now.” Eric leans back in his seat.

“Can’t we just let her go.” Jacob groans. “No! That's out of the question. She’ll report us right away.” “But Sangye-.” “No.”

“And what if we convince her to not report us?” Haknyeon smirks. “You wanna torture her?” Changmin gives Haknyeon a confused look. “Listen, I have a plan.” Everyone groans and Chanhee rolls his eyes. “Not again.”

“No listen, this plan is better.” Everyone turns their attention to Haknyeon as he starts explaining his plan. “Okay so, We’ll just let her live with us as part of the group instead of her being a maid or prisoner or something like that.” Haknyeon smiles as if it’s the best idea in the world.

“We’re called the boyz, not the boyz plus one girl.” Eric snorts. “Okay, but she won’t report her friends, or herself, right?”

“I think it’s a good idea.” Juyeon agrees with Haknyeon. “Of Course you do.” Chanhee sighs. “Well the idea isn’t that bad.” Kevin speaks up. “We could use some help.” “Right, I agree too.” Hyunjae stands up, he doesn’t really like the idea, but everything is better than watching you suffer because of them. After a lot of thinking all of the boys finally agree and go to bed.

»»————-　➴　————-««

tag list:

@beauchamp-fraser @n-xrmy @givememunjang @choidokim @stxrles-nxmss

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kyuuppi · 3 years

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vegetable stew

Pairing: Kenma x Reader (f)

Contents: hurt/comfort; angst and fluff; body dysmorphia; eating disorder (negative thoughts, fat shaming, insecurity, mentions of starvation)

Word Count: 2.1k

Kenma has always been observant.

It was a large part of his success as a setter and even now his keen observational skills contribute to his career as a professional gamer. He tends to notice things others don’t and lately that means noticing how you’ve changed.

The more he thinks about it the more difficult it is to pinpoint the exact starting point of your behavior. Haven’t you always preferred baggy clothing?

He remembers the pretty blue sweater you used to treasure back in high school, wearing it every chance you got as soon as the weather report hinted at anything lower than 10°C. He loved that sweater too—not just because of the cute sweater paws it gave you or how it almost completely covered the shorts you wore beneath, offering an unobstructed view of your shapely thighs—but instead he relished in the way it seemed to make you feel. The confidence and joy in your expression was clear as day when you wore your favorite outfits and early on in your relationship he had quickly learned that somehow your happiness was synonymous to his own.

Hence Kenma’s current frustrations in seeing that spark of joy and self-confidence gradually diminishing in the past several weeks.

Although that particular sweater had long since left your wardrobe within the first few years of university, as well-loved and worn out as it was, the more recent favorites of yours have also seemed to have gone lately. It had been a while since you had worn the short yellow polka dot dress you had been so eager to show Kenma the first day you got back from the mall with your roommates. Every pair of shorts and colorful tennis skirts had also left your weekly rotation, leaving behind only dull sweatshirts with childhood cartoon characters and baggy joggers.

Objectively, Kenma hardly cared about what you wore. If fastening a potato sack around your form made you happy, Kenma wouldn’t bat an eye—the problem stemmed from the fact these clothes didn’t make you happy. Moreover, the bland clothing brought with them their own slew of behavioral changes.

You no longer wished to go out and you avoided taking pictures of yourself, your social media suffering from an obvious lack of cheeky selfies or “outfit of the day” posts as of late. However, the most concerning change of all was your refusal to eat.

Kenma had a habit of forgetting to eat himself. He rarely felt the mild twinges of hunger, his attention generally hyper-focused on something else whether it was a game, a video needing editing, or a class project he had pushed off for far too long. It was only when his own stomach growling would startle him or the hunger pains got unbearable that he would acknowledge the human requirement of sustenance (not that the instant ramen in his cabinets provided much nutrients anyhow).

You were much more in tune with your body and, unlike him, you looked forward to eating; scheduled your days around it, even.

Your mornings began with a balanced breakfast—a meal Kenma was rarely even awake in time for—followed by a generous lunch break in which you would intentionally put everything on pause. Regardless of how much work you had to do you always made time to put everything down and have a decent lunch. It was good for your soul, you would say. A time to live in the moment and relieve yourself of stress.

For dinner you often made it a point to eat with others, whether it was going to a rowdy Korean BBQ with some friends or a dinner date at home with just him, you enjoyed sharing a meal surrounded by the people you love. On top of it all, you frequently had snacks: small bags of crackers, slices of fruit, or a few cookies you made yourself.

You loved cooking almost as much as you loved eating; most of the times he invited you over you brought a large bag with you filled to the brim with ingredients he wouldn’t have a clue what to do with. You would chastise him about his awful eating habits, grimacing at the ramen and chip wrappers overflowing in the kitchen trash can before you diligently prepare a meal for you both, healthy and flavorful, full of the vegetables he hadn’t had since the last time he went home to visit his mom.

You made him look forward to meal times too, if only to see the way you light up when he compliments your cooking or the pure bliss when you take the first bite of your favorite side dish. Eating with you became one of his favorite parts of the day.

And so that last time you made him dinner—a steaming plate of curry with shrimp tempura—the normally delicious food suddenly turned sour on his tongue when he realized you had only made him dinner.

“I’m just not very hungry today,” you had assured him with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Foolishly, he hadn’t said anything at the time.

Maybe you had a large lunch, maybe you had a stomach ache, maybe you just didn’t want curry today—at that point in time he had no reason to think there was something seriously wrong. He had no reason to think you were starving yourself.

It wasn’t until weeks later when all the evidence stacked up, the many different signs piecing themselves together like a puzzle until it was impossible not to see the picture, even if a few were still missing.

Your baggy clothing, your refusal to eat anything, your off-handed comments about how the female characters in whatever fighting game he was playing had such nice figures—it became crystal clear what you were doing and it made him feel sick.

Kenma doesn’t generally care about others’ looks; he tends to worry more on how he is perceived than how he perceives others but he is confident that he rather likes your body as it is. He would rather die than admit how often he finds his gaze wandering when your legs are bare or how his eyes naturally trace the curve of your waist down to the width of your hips his fingers twitch to touch—he has had many thoughts about your body, none of which have ever been negative.

Even so, he doesn’t mind if you want to change yourself. He isn’t foolish enough to think he has the right to dictate how you decide to present yourself to this world, but he refuses to allow the reason for your change to be one that stems from low self-esteem or insecurity.

When you step into Kenma’s apartment, weary from a long day of classes and the extra hours spent at the gym, the last thing you expect is to be greeted by the scent of some type of stew, warm and hearty. Your stomach clenches longingly but you quickly reprimand yourself—you already reached your tiny caloric limit for the day.

You have hardly made it into the living room when Kenma comes out from the kitchen, dyed hair tied in a low bun but messy, several strands poking out and sticking across his sweaty forehead. A dark blue apron is tied around his waist and his right hand holds a ladle, the perfect image of a frazzled housewife. If you weren’t so shocked by the scene you would have laughed.

“Welcome back,” he greets softly.

“Are you...cooking something?”

Kenma looks slightly embarrassed by your incredulous tone but not offended. In all the years you have known Kenma you have never seen him in the kitchen for longer than the three minutes required to heat up a bowl of noodles. Him slaving away in front of the stove for a bowl of homemade soup is nearly unfathomable to you.

“Vegetable stew...it’s my mom’s recipe,” your boyfriend explains sheepishly.

The mental image of Kenma shyly FaceTiming his mother as she patiently walks him through chopping up carrots and mixing spices makes your lips twitch upwards and you make your way past him to curiously survey his work.

“You didn’t have to go through the effort, I could have cooked you something, y’know,” you comment as you lean over the large pot on the stove.

The contents are a rich brown color with hints of potatoes, carrots, and onions peaking out. You’re gifted another pang of hunger and you quickly step back as if it would prevent you from falling into temptation.

Kenma quietly slips into the kitchen directly behind you, his chest nearly brushing your arm as he speaks.

“It's okay, I wanted to cook for us this time.”

You freeze.

Immediately, you break into a cold sweat, the prospect of eating sending you into a state of anxiety. You can’t eat—you don’t deserve to eat. Not when your arms are so flabby, your waist so undefined, your inner thighs so close to each other—

“I appreciate it,” you start.

Your voice sounds unnaturally high even to your own ears.

“But I’m not hungry—I had a really big lunch.”

Turning, you try to offer him an apologetic smile but his face looks off. His lips are pulled into a slight frown and his eyes seem to be looking through you, as if he knows you’re lying.

“Y/n...I don’t like what you’re doing.”

You attempt to laugh but it comes out hollow.

“I’m not doing anything bad, just dieting a bit.”

“I think you’re being a little extreme.”

You huff, starting to feel defensive. You don’t want to have this conversation, not now, not ever.

“Kenma, I’m totally fine, I promise.”

“I’m worried about you,” he insists.

“I’m telling you there’s nothing to worry about, I’m being safe.”

“Skipping meals isn’t healthy.”

“Kenma, being this fat isn’t healthy!”

The words escape before you can think to stop them and you can already feel the shame pricking at your eyes as you turn away. You don’t want to see your boyfriend’s look of disgust once he realizes you’re right, once he realizes how fat and unattractive his girlfriend is. Kenma is skinny, he deserves a petite girlfriend who is just as tiny, a girl with slender legs that look cute in shorts and a stomach that lays flat regardless of the time of day. He deserves the sexy girls in his video games, in shape from years of training and perfected suited for tight leather bikini tops.

You don’t realize you’re shaking until Kenma wraps his arms around your shoulders, burying his face into the side of your neck. He lets out a shuttered sigh and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he’s crying as well.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your skin, “and I don’t like seeing you hurting yourself. If you want to lose weight, I’ll help you. We can make healthy foods together and eat them together and exercise together—just please stop skipping meals.”

Your throat feels like it's stuffed with cotton so you can only nod in agreement, raising one hand to weakly wipe at the hot tears staining your cheeks.

The two of you stand like that, huddled in the middle of the kitchen, for several long minutes until the last of your tears have gone before Kenma gently pushes you to sit down at the coffee table. He prepares two steaming bowls full of vegetable stew for you both and you silently eat as Kenma tells you how low calorie the broth is and how many nutrients his mom said were in the vegetables he used. He tells you about a new fitness game on the Nintendo Switch that you two can play together. By the time you finish your meals, Kenma has already promised to wake up early to go jogging around the neighborhood together even though you know he absolutely hates waking up early and exercising when he doesn’t have to.

Your chest aches with how much he loves you, how far he’s willing to go just if he thinks it will help you and make you happy.

A small part of your mind begs you not to listen. It insists you’ll be fat forever if you don’t starve yourself; no pain, no gain. But the more rational part of you gazes into those soft golden eyes, filled with concern and love as he rambles on about the best sources of protein—all stuff he had learned from his professional volleyball player friend Hinata—and you know your answer.

Kenma loves you, he would do anything to see you happy and healthy and you would do anything to please him.

You love him more than you hate yourself.

#kozume kenma #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #kenma x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #kenma imagine #kenma scenario #kenma x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader

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missmungoe · 3 years

Note

Can we get more pirate Makino

Of course! I’m actually writing a thing about exactly that, so here’s a glimpse from the first chapter of a three-part fic I’ve been working on, titled On the Water (alternatively: How to Become a Pirate in Your Thirties).

Follows Long Live, rated M for, well, Shanks. The full story will be up on AO3 when it’s finished, but I hope you enjoy this sneak peek!

For her birthday he gave her the horizon, but adapting to life at sea was a work in progress.

The ropes scuffed her palms, gentle hands that had always known hard work, just not this particular kind. She’d have blisters tomorrow, Makino suspected, although hoped that was all she’d have, and not a broken back and fractured skull to boot.

“Need a hand?”

His voice reached down towards her, as a big hand was offered, the broad palm roughened with harder calluses than hers. The metal of his wedding ring caught the sunlight; unlike his fingers, it didn’t bear the evidence of his way of life, but then he hadn’t been wearing it on his hand for very long.

Her own ring was dulled and scratched from wear; the curious symmetry of their lives, at least before her recent about-face in terms of careers, her apron and serving tray exchanged with canvas, rope, and questionable safety measures.

She looked at the hand held out to her, following the sinewy forearm to Shanks, perched on the ratlines above her with an effortlessness she couldn’t decide if made her want to gawk or shriek in frustration. The fact that he could even offer his hand was hard to believe, given that he only had one, but he looked utterly unhindered by the fact, his bare feet steady where he balanced on the ropes, in a way that made it seem like having two hands would have just been overkill.

For her own part, Makino was trying her best not to cling with every appendage she had.

“Are you being cheeky?” she called up, just a little shrilly, gripping the ropes when an impish gust of wind sent the ratlines swaying.

“You tell me,” came the quick reply, her disbelief parried with the flash of a roguish grin. “You’re the one with the view.”

Poised on the ropes directly beneath him, Makino demurely refused to acknowledge the cheeks in question, hugged rather snugly by the fabric of his pants where he leaned his weight against the ropes. Today’s pattern was cheerful palm tree leaves against a bright red backdrop. The fact that it might be the last thing she saw before falling to her death was a sobering thought.

“Eyes aloft, sailor,” Shanks said, a note of command that sent a shiver jumping up her spine, and that had her gaze darting from his rear to his face, and the delighted grin stretched across it. “I know I’m distracting, but try to be professional?”

Had she been a better liar, she might have attempted a glib retort. As it was, the sight of him on the ropes was distracting, a captain in his natural element, his feet bare and his signature cloak discarded; the ruggedness of a man who’d spent his life at sea, all rough stubble and sun-darkened skin swept with dark hair, his half-buttoned shirt straining over his wide shoulders in a way that really ought to be against the law, or at the very least prohibited during certain circumstances, like, say, when she was trying to keep her concentration so she didn’t fall and break every bone in her body.

The toned arm extended towards her, the right sleeve cinched around his bicep, flexing when he caught her eyes darting to it.

Her attempt at an unfazed expression faltered, and his chuckle chased her gaze when she averted it, although her blush was arguably more incriminating, but then it was hard not to be impressed, and she still wasn’t used to seeing him like this.

Curling her toes, she tested her balance. She’d rolled her breeches up past her knees, and her bare feet helped with her grip on the lines. The only thing she’d kept of the clothes she’d brought aboard with her was her loose-sleeved blouse, and even her kerchief had been exchanged for a longer scarf to better hold back her hair; red with white embroideries, he’d gifted it to her shortly after they’d set out from Fuschia, weaved into her long braid now, brushing her spine where it hung between her shoulder blades. She wore no further embellishments, although had wondered how she might look, with gold in her ears and on her fingers, or pearls from the bottom of the sea. Trappings for a different pirate, or at least a bolder one.

She missed her skirts, her silk bodices and embroidered aprons, but this was more practical, and better suited her new chores. Maybe one day she’d be a barmaid again, but for now she was a pirate, and if an enemy showed up, they wouldn’t be asking for a drink.

Shanks offered his hand again, and this time Makino took it, sea-roughened fingers wrapping around her smaller ones tightly, and her breath seized when he lifted her up, and so fast she had to stifle the startled yelp that escaped her, and heard his laughter, a softer thing now as she scrambled to hold on to her new perch on the ratlines beside him.

Her feet curled around the ropes as she tried to reclaim her balance, her breath hitching when the rigging swayed.

She watched as Shanks moved, his leg sliding behind hers as he put himself behind her. A big hand settled over one of hers, gripping it reassuringly.

“Breathe,” came the gentle order, as her back met the sturdy width of his chest, the support allowing her to relax enough to slacken her death grip on the lines, the breath she’d been holding easing out as she did. His feet caged hers, tiny in comparison, his body keeping her secure on the lines. The top of her head was barely level with his sternum; she could feel the warmth of his skin bared by his shirt where it pressed against her back. “Attagirl.”

Shifting his weight, his hips brushed against her backside, and her breath shivered with her laugh, feeling him.

“This is hardly what I’d call professional,” Makino said, even as she yielded some of her weight to him, glad of the support offered by his bigger frame.

“What are you talking about? I’m the essence of professionalism. I just have a very hands-on approach to teaching.” His grin brushed the tender spot on her neck beneath her ear as he rumbled, “This is the first time I hear you complaining about that.”

“I’m not complaining,” Makino said, the shiver in her voice betraying her reaction, but sensing an opportunity to give him a taste of his own medicine, added demurely, “I like having you behind me.”

She felt his surprise in the startled grip of his fingers, and could picture his grin from the winded laugh that reached through her back.

“Say things like that and you’ll make me lose my grip.” The way he pressed against her felt retaliatory, her breath hitching at the grind of his hips, and the hardness beneath her rear. “I’m trying to show you the ropes here.” His lips skimmed the back of her neck, the fleeting kiss followed by a rumble, “Although if we move this to our cabin I can show you some different ones.”

Her heart skipped, although not so much for the suggestion as for the casual use of our that had found its way into his vocabulary lately.

Her laugh was soft, and she felt him squeeze her hand. “Such a thorough education you’re giving me.”

“Well, I want you to be prepared,” Shanks said, as a grinning kiss marked the spot above her pulse. “There are some real scoundrels on this sea.”

“Oh, I know.” Her eyes flicked up to catch his, tempered steel in the sunlight. “If I’m not careful, one might steal me away on his ship.”

His look softened, a gentler kind of heat, before he bent to kiss the crown of her head.

But even teasingly said, it touched upon something she hadn’t broached with him yet; an underlying fear that had followed her from East Blue like a shadow in the water, and that was a large part of why she wanted to learn how to sail.

She didn’t want him to regret taking her with him―that there should come a day when her inexperience would cease being endearing, if she became a burden he couldn’t afford to have on his ship.

“Hey,” Shanks said then; the shift in his tone made her blink, before she realised that her thoughts had wandered. “Everything okay?”

Makino nodded, and hoped the slight quaver in her voice helped make her lie convincing. “Just made the mistake of looking down.”

There was a beat where she wondered if he’d seen through her deceit, but then, “As much as I’m enjoying teaching you,” Shanks said, and she was surprised there was no teasing in his voice now, “you know you don’t have to learn this, right? I captain a pretty big crew. We’ve got plenty of hands on deck, and that’s not an amputee quip.”

Murmurs of agreement backed him, from the crew gathered below, all of them having come out on deck to observe. She’d ask them to mind their own business if she’d thought it would work, but recognised a lost battle. They hadn’t minded their own business since the day they’d met.

Although catching the wary looks on their faces, she wondered if the real reason they’d gathered to watch was so they could catch her if she slipped.

Ben was holding the baby, wide-eyed and sucking on his fingers where he watched them both aloft, and she had the sudden thought that he probably wouldn’t forget it if she fell to her death.

It almost made her hesitate, wondering if she really was pushing it, and that her focus was better spent on something a little less hazardous, like charting stars or assisting Marsh in the galley, and not on building a career as a sailor when she was long past the age most swabbies got their first posting. She wasn’t even a proper swabbie, but couldn’t exactly claim a higher rank when she had no skills or credentials to back it up.

But there was a part of her that wouldn’t back down, even against her own misgivings. She couldn’t choose this life, his life, and keep living the way she had. This sea wouldn’t allow it, and she’d be naive if she believed otherwise.

It was never going to be easy, and she was painfully aware that she’d chosen the worst possible time to abandon her law-abiding job to become a pirate. Granted, most fledgling pirates didn’t achieve overnight fame and a back-bending kiss on the cover of the WENP. If she’d hoped for a subtle change of careers, that ship had thoroughly sailed.

But whatever kind of pirate she turned out to be, she didn’t want to be useless. At the very least, she wanted to know her way around his ship.

“It’s not like I’m going to put you on watch duty,” Shanks said, when a lull had passed where she hadn’t spoken. “That’s why we have Fen, although between you and me, if Whiskey could sound the alarm, he’d be out of a job.”

“No offence, Boss, but that cat was shat out of satan’s arsehole,” spoke the freckled young man seated on the yard above them, with the ease of someone who spent a lot of time aloft, and who didn’t have thirty-two years of deeply burrowed roots holding him back. “But yeah, you’re probably right.”

“If our ship’s cat can do it, then I should be able to,” Makino retorted pertly, although didn’t say that she’d rather not spend a whole night in the crow’s nest by herself. Not that Shanks would ask her, and if he did, he’d have something rather different in mind than keeping watch, but even that would be moot if she couldn’t get up there by herself.

If they hadn’t had an audience, she might have told him. Instead what she said was, “I can’t be a pirate without any sailing skills, Shanks.”

“Hey, there are plenty of pirates who have no sailing skills,” Shanks countered. “Don’t underestimate how much you can get away with by riding someone’s coattails. It’s done wonders for Buggy’s career.”

“At this rate, he’ll be an Emperor soon,” Fen said.

“Who will?” Yasopp asked, appearing on the yard beside Fen, causing Makino to start, and she was glad to have Shanks behind her, as she didn’t lose her grip. She hadn’t even seen him climb up, but, “Hey, Ma-chan,” he chirped, swinging his legs over the yard as he took a seat. “How’s it hanging?”

“Oh, just swimmingly,” Makino sighed, and tried not to squirm, uncomfortably aware of all the eyes on her. Unlike Shanks, she’d never loved the spotlight, particularly when doing something she wasn’t good at, and it was a little intimidating to have a whole crew of experienced pirates observing her stumbling attempts into learning their craft.

For all its delight, Yasopp’s grin was understanding, and her gratitude was silent when that sharp-eyed gaze left her to look at Fen, his arms crossed over his chest in a casual repose as he repeated his earlier question, “So who’ll be an Emperor soon?”

“Buggy,” Fen said.

Yasopp snorted, but after a beat, conceded, “You know, I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s got a way of falling upwards.” Then with a grin, “Roster’s getting pretty packed now, though, with Luffy and this one,” he said, nodding to Makino. “You’ll have to watch out for challengers now that you’ve announced yourself, Ma-chan. It’s eat or be eaten on this sea.”

“Don’t,” Makino said primly, before Shanks could open his mouth, and she couldn’t see his grin but she could imagine it well enough. Then to Yasopp, “And please don’t include me in this power-grabbing contest.”

“I hate to break it to you, my heart, but it’s a little late for that,” Shanks said.

“You did give an interview,” Yasopp pointed out.

“The photograph was also hard to misinterpret,” Fen agreed.

“I don’t mind what they call me,” Makino said, and already knew what it was, the endearment that had been given to her by the man she’d married long before she’d asked him to take her with him, but Empress was symbolic, not declarative, and the title itself wasn’t the issue. “It’s about what they expect. I’m not going to challenge anyone, I just want to be a normal pirate. No politics, just plain and simple swashbuckling. Whatever happened to parrots and peg legs?”

“Do you want a parrot?” Shanks asked.

“What I want is for my merits to speak for themselves,” she said, gently firm as she tipped her head back to meet his eyes. “Small and unimportant as they might be.”

His look held a thought he didn’t share, but before he could say anything, “So I’m not riding your coattails,” she told him, and was quick to add, “And don’t,”―he pinched his lips shut, although the boyish grin stayed―“make that into something lewd. It’s too easy, even for you.”

“She’s got a point, Cap,” Yasopp said. Fen made a noise of agreement.

“I feel like you’re all underestimating my creativity, but whatever,” Shanks said. “Also, ‘even for you’, wife? The level of disrespect. You’re on my ship now, and last I checked, I was still the captain.”

Doubtful murmurs from the deck below, which he answered by sticking his tongue out.

Her smile was sweetly mutinous. “Let me rephrase, then: I’m not riding your coattails, Captain.”

She knew from his grin that she was going to be paying for that later, but, “Have I told you that I find your premature midlife crisis adorable?” Shanks said instead. “Most people just change their hair. Or buy a really big boat.”

“Or marry a younger woman,” Ben supplied from around his toothpick. The baby on his arm was falling asleep, his head tucked under his chin.

Shanks turned his head to call down, “Et tu, you ass?”

Laughing agreement from the rest of their crew set off a debate of who’d had the biggest midlife crisis to date―a tie between Yasopp’s dreads and their captain’s choice of wife, who demurely elected to have no opinion on the matter―and Makino felt the momentary reprieve of their attentions, Shanks’ in particular, who for all his easygoing attitude had been watching her closely since they’d begun climbing the rigging.

It wasn’t that he minded her learning, but she wondered sometimes if he’d expected her to take the safer route, or at least one that didn’t include the risk of breaking her neck. His desire to protect her was endearing, if a little hypocritical from a man who was entirely too casual about danger. Their departure from East Blue was only the most recent example.

It had been a few weeks since her birthday, when she’d left the only home she’d ever known, chased from her safe shores by a fleet of navy warships. That last part had thankfully not needed repeating, but then the navy didn’t have the same foothold on this sea, or the presence to enforce their authority, in her husband’s territory.

Hers now, too, or at least symbolically, although even then it was a lot to accept for someone whose only claim before this had been to a little bar on the seaside. She still hadn’t fully grasped the finer points of the New World’s politics, aside from the precarious balance of powers that always felt one nudge away from toppling, and even saying that she wanted no part in it, she wondered sometimes if she would even have a choice.

Warm fingers squeezed hers. “Ready?” Shanks asked, and with a fortifying breath, Makino nodded.

She felt him shift his weight, yielding room for her as she made to climb further up the ratlines, and following close behind her until they reached the footrope beneath the course yard, where the bottom sails were stowed.

Reaching past her, she watched him swing himself up onto the yard, nimble in a way that never ceased to amaze her. She’d used to observe him working aloft, that first year they’d been docked in Fuschia, but watching him still stole her breath, his amputation no more a hindrance than the wind, and sure-footed in a way that made her wonder if he’d ever feared anything.

She wished for a bit of that confidence now, as she focused on making it look like she wasn’t clinging to the ratlines now that he was no longer behind her.

Her gaze fleeted down to the deck. She’d never been particularly afraid of heights, but then she’d made a point of keeping her feet planted firmly on the ground. The only other occasions she’d stepped out of her comfort zone had been at his direction, except this was a bit higher up than atop a table.

Shanks extended his hand to her, and this time she was prepared when he pulled her up, her weight not even a minor burden as he lifted her onto the course yard in a single, fluid movement.

His hand cupped her elbow, steadying her as she found her footing. It was the lowest yard on the mast, but the distance to the deck still felt considerable.

The sea spray was gentle against her cheeks, touched pink by the sun that had darkened her freckles, the weeks they’d been at sea. The salt wind kept trying to stubbornly coax her hair out of her scarf, a few rogue strands freed to brush her cheekbones.

Looking up at Shanks found him watching her, so tall she had to crane her neck to meet his eyes, a thought behind them she wasn’t privy to, but at her questioning look he just said, “It suits you.”

Bemusement wrinkled her brow as she laughed, winded from the climb, “What, sweat and your old capris?”

The lines at the corners of his eyes deepened, a fey smile that made her wonder if she’d guessed correctly, before his hand lifted to cradle her cheek, his thumb brushing the arch of her cheekbone before tucking an errant lock of salt-swept hair back into her scarf, as Shanks said simply, “The sea.”

Her grin wavered, and she had no comeback to that, but he only curled his fingers under hers, lifting her hand to kiss her knuckles, before gesturing to the mast. “After you.”

He let her grip his hand until she’d found a foothold, and kept one step behind her as she climbed the ratlines towards the top of the mast, until they’d reached the topgallant yard, and balancing on the footrope, he waited until she’d hoisted herself up before climbing up beside her.

The sea spooled out beneath them, the blue silk sky above the horizon the most perfect she’d ever seen. This high up, the wind sang louder between the masts, laughing where it tugged and teased the rigging, the shrouds stretched taut and the ratlines creaking as the ship swayed.

Releasing a shuddering breath, Makino eased her legs down on either side of the wooden yard. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to seeing the world from this perspective, and couldn’t say if the thrill she felt leaned more towards fear or excitement. 60/40, probably.

She looked down.

…or maybe 70/30.

Searching for a distraction, she lifted her eyes to Shanks, his long legs draped astride the yard, like he might sit on one of the benches in the galley. “How does it feel?”

Breathing in deeply, “Like I want to throw up,” Makino said, and saw his grin where it split his face.

Her smile softened, and keeping her eyes on him, she said, “And like I never want to go back down.”

His grin held understanding, and a feeling that made her heart ache, it was so fierce, and that wasn’t the view’s doing, although it was an undeniably spectacular sight, the sea and the sky ever-bending, the world stretched as far as it would go from horizon to horizon; an otherworldliness about this ocean that was humbling, faced with her own mortality against those terrifying powers, which had nothing to do with the pirates who sailed it.

Before coming to the New World, she hadn’t known what to expect. Between Shanks’ camping stories and the navy’s propaganda, all she’d known was that it wouldn’t be anything like East Blue, which meant she couldn’t keep being the same person she’d been. Not if she wanted to be in an Emperor’s crew, even just as his wife. There was no room for the ordinary in this realm, where only the extraordinary survived.

Lowering her gaze, she braved a glance at the deck far below. Hopefully she wouldn’t fall and break her neck. Given the countless ways to die on this sea, it seemed a somewhat anticlimactic way to go.

Lifting her eyes to Shanks found him considering her, outlined by the sun behind him, his eyes hooded under his scars, a curiously vulnerable look in them now, as though he couldn’t quite make himself believe she was really there.

She wondered if that look would fade, if he ever came to regret bringing her with him.

The intrusive thought slipped past her defences, before she blinked it away.

“So, my barmaid,” Shanks said, the tender note in his voice rendering it too sincere for teasing. “How are you finding the pirate’s life so far?”

She hoped her smile didn’t betray her earlier thoughts. “It’s actually been pretty uneventful,” Makino said, with a lightness that attempted to conceal the slight shiver in her voice. “I’m almost beginning to wonder if you really were exaggerating about all your dangerous escapades. I’ve seen no bears, either.”

His smile indulged her teasing, but his silence was telling.

She wondered what he was shielding her from, and if she even wanted to know. But even if she couldn’t hide from it forever, she was grateful for the uneventfulness of their voyage thus far. It wasn’t the same as Fuschia, with its gentle monotony, and where change had always been welcome. On this sea, change could easily be synonymous with war.

Her stomach twisted at the reminder, but looking out over the sea found it calm, although she did wonder what would happen the day it inevitably caught up with them. Shanks had enemies, and one in particular had featured in her nightmares since long before she’d asked to come with him.

Blinking her eyes, she dispelled the thought of Blackbeard, anchoring her focus in the present, and Shanks on the yard beside her, in his shirtsleeves and with his pants rolled up past his knees, the deceptive trappings of a simple sailor, and not the pirate lord the world knew. The wind had dragged its fingers through his hair, and his scars looked gentler under the look of contentment on his face, his staggering features eased with a smile, and the note of tension that was usually there gone from his brow.

Looking at him, it was almost easy to forget the authority he held on this sea; the kind of power he commanded, and the territories under his flag. To believe for a few seconds that she might be a simple sea captain’s wife, and nothing more.

But lifting her eyes to the top of the mast, and the jolly roger dancing on the breeze, there was no denying what he was, and what she was now, and had been since the day she’d married him. That the pirate who’d stolen her away from her quiet shores was not the same who’d first dropped anchor in her port twelve years ago; the one she knew as her husband.

She didn’t know him like that―as Emperor. She wondered idly if that was what he was shielding her from, more than anything else.

“You know,” Shanks said then, his eyes meeting hers. “You’re handling this a lot better than most do, their first time aloft. Buggy only made it halfway up―I bet him that I could climb higher, so of course he had to prove me wrong. You should have seen him. Captain had to climb up to get him down.”

“What about you?” Makino asked, smiling. She could picture it easily, for all that she’d never actually met Buggy.

His grin belonged to the eight-year-old up to no good, all boyish pride. “I made it to the top.”

“He had to get you down too, didn’t he?”

“Yup. I think I even cried a little on the way down.”

Her laugh tumbled out, the sound softening his eyes, and she saw his gaze where it drifted a bit, as though remembering.

Watching him, Makino tried to picture their son at that age, if he would be similarly brave, and foolish, and if he might have a little brother or sister egging him on. Maybe even more than one.

It wasn’t the first time the thought found her, imagining more children. She hadn’t brought it up since the birth of their son, and didn’t know how to broach the subject now, when their lives had changed so much. She hadn’t been able to make herself ask him what he felt about it, afraid of what the answer would be. It was already a risk having her on board, and a baby who wasn’t even a year old. A pregnancy wouldn’t exactly make things easier.

Would he think it would be too dangerous for her to stay? She couldn’t say he would be wrong, but just thinking about going back to her life before, and that aching loneliness, to wait, scared and alone on some island, filled her with a fear that made all her other worries pale in comparison.

She knew his old captain had accepted the risk, allowing the wife and children of one of his men to sail with them, but it had been a different time, and from what Shanks had told her, she could hold her own against the best in their crew. Makino couldn’t say the same for herself.

“It proves my point, though,” Shanks said, drawing her back from where her thoughts had gone, and her hand slipped from where it had been worrying her stomach. The admiration in his voice was genuine, but then for all his teasing, he’d never been the type to indulge her just to make her feel better. “You’re a natural. At this rate you’ll be dancing on the yards in no time.”

The impulse seized her, not an unusual feeling where he was concerned, wanting his eyes on her, and his admiration. It was what gave her the courage now, overtaking her fear, and spurred by the sight of his eyes widening, Makino put the future out of her mind, focusing instead on Shanks as she made to push to her feet.

Shifting her weight, she rose to her full height. She wasn’t looking at him now, but felt his focus, the near-physical grip of his eyes, fastened on her where she balanced on the yard. The wind tugged her blouse from where she’d tucked it into the waistline of her breeches, filling her lungs, until she felt light as air. Aside from being terrifying, there was something exhilarating about being aloft, so high up it felt like you could see to the very ends of the world.

The yard creaked beneath her bare feet, but her balance held as she walked the length of the yardarm, her arms lifted, but she didn’t waver, a balletic grace that cheerfully defied her hesitance climbing up, and reaching the end of the yard, she turned to find his mouth hanging open, and couldn’t keep her smile demure where it split her face, her secret revealed.

She wished she could commemorate the look on his face somehow, as Shanks told her, “I don’t know what I’m more proud of, your acting skills or the fact that you’ve been practicing without me noticing.”

Smiling, she didn’t mention that the last one had been a bigger challenge than learning to work aloft, but the nights he’d been busy with their son, going to sleep early, she’d sneak out to practice. Fen and Yasopp had been teaching her, and she saw Shanks single out both culprits now in the crow’s nest, wearing near-identical grins.

His eyes found hers again, a new look in them now, as though he was seeing her differently. And it was a look she knew but that never failed to catch her off guard, something that was at once tender and fierce, and that filled her with a thrill that knew no equal, even against the adrenaline rush of being aloft where she stood atop the sea, dressed in the warm spray and the salt wind and with blisters on her hands and feet that it would take some time yet to become proper callouses.

She wondered what he saw now when he looked at her, if it was a barmaid or a pirate; wasn’t sure which she felt like, but the look on his face rendered the distinction unimportant.

Glancing down, the drop still made her stomach turn in on itself, but it was a different feeling being up here now than it had been the first time. It might also have something to do with his reaction, and the grin that was so proud it looked like it couldn’t go any wider.

Her own pride made her bold, and made her forget the distance to the deck, and holding his eyes, she didn’t pay enough attention to her feet, or the loose bit of rope where it peeked out from where the sails were stowed.

It caught her foot.

She saw Shanks’ eyes widening, his grin falling as he scrambled to reach for her, but it was too late.

Terror seized her limbs, and even the formerly playful wind couldn’t cushion her fall as she plummeted through the air. For all that it had seemed so far, the drop to the deck below was quick, and she had less than a second to think as she twisted mid-air, grabbing for the rope as Fen tossed it down, and her heart lurched into her mouth as her downward descent changed course, the momentum provided by her fall allowing her to swing around the main mast.

The wind rushed by, dragging tears from her eyes and a terrified laugh from her chest as she soared through the air, towards the deck and the crew who’d gathered to watch, wearing horrified expressions and looking like they’d been prepared to catch her, but they were forced to step aside as Makino released her grip on the line.

Her landing wasn’t as smooth as she’d wanted, as releasing the rope saw her stumbling forward as her feet touched the deck, multiple pairs of hands reaching out to grab her, but she didn’t fall, catching herself against Lucky, who was the closest.

A full second of stunned silence followed where no one made a sound, before Yasopp let out a whooping cheer, but the rest looked so shocked, they didn’t immediately respond.

She saw the first wavering grin, before more rippled through the crowd, followed by their voices, their salt-hewn timbres raised in a roar under the open sky. It filled her chest, leaving her lightheaded as rough hands ruffled her hair and gripped her shoulders.

Still reeling, Makino didn’t tell them she was glad for the support, because it felt like her knees were about to give out.

Her heart was pounding against the roof of her mouth, adrenaline and childlike exhilaration pulling a winded laugh from her chest, bright and airy as she lifted her eyes to the main mast, only to find Shanks calling down towards her.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

Shielding her eyes from the sun, she didn’t even attempt a demure smile this time, or pretend her knees weren’t trembling as badly as her voice, even as she called up, “Were you worried, Captain?”

His breath left him in a gust she couldn’t decide whether or not was a laugh.

She watched as he lifted to his feet, her eyes widening as he reached for one of the lines, before diving off the topgallant yard, using the propulsion from his jump to swing around the mast like she had, although with far more control.

But where she’d expected him to step onto the deck, he only shifted his weight, allowing his momentum to carry him towards where she was standing, and she’d just realised what he meant to do when he swept her off her feet, the arm extended to hold the line wrapping around her tightly.

Her hands scrambled for purchase, clinging to his broad shoulders, a shrieking laugh pulling from her lips, chased by his deeper cadence as they soared through the air, once more around the mast. The wind carried them forward, and glancing down saw the drop to the water below, but it wasn’t fear that filled her this time, her nose buried in his neck with her laughter, like when he’d spin her, dancing in her bar as the fiddle played until she was dizzy and gasping for breath, only this time they danced on the squalls to the singing of the ship.

He put them down on the deck, his arm around her keeping her legs from giving out as he stepped off, holding her to him as he gently eased her down on her feet. Her whole body shook, adrenaline and laughter in equal measure as she steadied herself against his body.

His arm curled around her loosely, his palm spanning her back, but he didn’t let her go, which Makino appreciated, as she didn’t trust her legs just yet.

“That’s payback for nearly giving me a heart attack,” Shanks said, playfully chiding, although there was a slight waver in his voice that couldn’t be smoothed over with humour.

Looking up at him where he held her, her beaming smile didn’t know how to contain itself. “I wanted to surprise you.”

His look softened, somehow both achingly proud and mildly exasperated, as he told her wryly, “You succeeded.” Touching his chest, he let out a wheezing sigh. “Well, at least I know my ticker is working. Always good to know at my age.”

“I try to keep you on your toes,” Makino said, and gently glib, “That’s what a younger wife is for, or so I’ve heard.”

The chuckle that left him was winded, and pulling her close, “I love you,” he sighed. “You’ll send me to an early grave, but at least I’ll be really excited about it.”

Her grin hurt. “Any comments on my form?”

“Exquisite. Dainty and petite. Perfect, tiny breas―”

She clapped her hands over his mouth, her laughter loud and startled. “Shanks!”

“What?” he asked, his voice muffled behind her hands. “Oh, was that not what you were referring to?” His grin peeked out from behind her splayed fingers, her palms catching on his beard as he chuckled, “My bad.”

Kissing her fingers, he wrapped his own around them, his big hand dwarfing hers as he squeezed it. Makino almost thought it felt like his fingers were shaking.

His grin had eased a bit, although his voice was rough with pride as he kissed her small fist and said, “Quick reaction time, and damn impressive manoeuvres. A bit shaky on the landing, but you get extra points for theatrics.”

Beaming, she didn’t mention that she’d fallen on her ass the first eight attempts; she was just delighted she’d stuck the landing when it counted. “I still need more practice going down,” Makino said.

His whole face brightened, his grin fairly wolfish, and she recognised her mistake a second too late.

“Oh my god,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with a gusting laugh.

“I’m torn between vehemently disagreeing with that statement and graciously offering myself up for you to practice on,” Shanks said, his arm wrapping around her as she bent her head towards his chest, her laughter helpless as he lowered his voice to murmur, “You know my feelings about that particular skill of yours. Look; it’s already got a standing ovation.”

She pinched his side, and demurely ignored said standing ovation where it pressed against her stomach, her arms wrapped around his waist as she leaned into his chest, his laughter soft as he pulled her close, a trembling kiss pressed to the parting of her hair.

The others were there, their voices raised with delight, “Seriously, Makino!”

Nervous laughter. “You really had us going there for a moment!”

“Yeah, no shit. I thought my heart was about to fall through my ass!”

“Lovely image,” Shanks said, his arm sliding around her back as she leaned into his side.

Ben was holding Ace, awakened from his brief nap by the commotion. For once, his untouchable expression yielded a surprising amount of feeling, although Makino didn’t know whether to call it relief or like he desperately needed a smoke.

“You’re supposed to be the one with sense,” he told her, handing the baby over to Shanks when he reached his arms towards his father.

Shanks just grinned, and settling their son on his arm, “Just wait until this little guy begins climbing the rigging. It’s a good thing you can’t get any greyer, Ben, but then it’s my turn now, I guess.”

Ben looked at them both, then at his godson. Makino wondered if it was the first time the thought had occurred to him.

Smiling, and ignoring the thought of how she would handle an overactive toddler on a ship, “Wish you hadn’t quit smoking?” Makino asked him.

Ben looked at the baby, making excited babbling noises as Shanks pointed at a seagull grooming on the yard where they’d been sitting.

But for all his long-suffering, and the worry she still felt that they’d be too much trouble to have aboard, it wasn’t regret that made a startled grin break across his face, catching even her off guard as Ben said, and with a look that made her wonder if he knew what she was hiding, “A small sacrifice.”

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hanoella · 3 years

Text

Affettuoso- With Feeling (Part 3)

Pairing: Bucky x Pianist!Reader

Set after the events of TFATWS: In an effort to start over and make a home in Louisiana, Bucky meets a friend of Sam’s who ends up being his landlord. With only a driveway to separate them, he finds that he’s not the only one looking for a fresh start.

Series tags/warnings: Slow Burn, Eventual Bucky x Reader, Mentions of Domestic Abuse, Canon Level Violence

Part 3 Word Count: 3k

A/N: Can you tell I don't really have a posting schedule? lol. I also introduced links to the specific pieces I had in mind. I'm using soundcloud because I don't think everyone has access to spotify. Trying to be reader friendly! This can be read with or without the audio, as I do my best to still convey the thought in the fic. Though if you can, I highly recommend :)

Thanks again for all your support! Every heart and comment motivates me and is just so wonderful

Read Part 1; Masterlist

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A few days had passed since the night that Bucky had overheard your troubles. It had been quiet since, and you hadn’t left the house. The curtains were opened during the day and closed at night, the only telltale signs that you existed.

Doesn’t she have to work? Bucky thought to himself. He speculated all the different possibilities as he used the riding mower around the property. Maybe you were an heiress? You seemed pretty down to earth though. Or maybe you sold a patented idea for a ton of money. All this land had to have been expensive. And to not request actual money from him?

He eyed up the width of the gate for your fence. The riding mower couldn’t fit so he would have to use a push mower for your fenced off yard. He hadn’t seen one in the garage. Maybe the old shed at the back of your yard had one? Bucky parked the mower in the garage, taking a moment to make a mental list of everything. Depending on if he found anything in the shed, he might need to buy a few basic tools and a chainsaw for that fallen tree.

He walked out of the garage and over to the shed. The leaves were changing color and it brought a whole new atmosphere to the secluded forest area. Opening the gate of the weathered white fence, he looked around to see if you were out. No signs of life. Entering the yard and closing the gate behind him, he started walking to the back. Halfway through, he stopped at the fire pit. The grey stone blocks were starting to crumble, with a few of the bricks having fallen off. It would probably be really nice if he got a little bit of cement mix and filled in the gaps. Bucky made another mental note.

The shed had no padlock so he was able to open it with no problem. Amongst the cobwebs and bags of soil, was an older green push mower that looked like it might work. He gave the gas a pull and got no response back. Looking underneath, Bucky saw what might be the problem. He’d have to take a closer look later. Putting the lawn mower back onto its wheels, he pushed it across the yard, pausing when he saw movement though the glass doors of the back patio.

Craning his neck to avoid the glare, he saw you sitting at your fancy full keyboard. The way the piano was against the opposite wall, your back was to him. You had big over-ear headphones plugged into it, so he couldn’t hear the sound but he saw the flurry of keys being pressed down. Whatever you were playing, you played passionately. Hands and arms gracefully moved despite the speed at which they were moving. Enhanced hearing coming into play, he heard the muffled clicks of the fluttering keys. Suddenly, you pressed down forcefully, holding whatever chord you had struck as your shoulders gently relaxed. A deep breath. Arm creating a graceful arc as if you had studied ballet, you pressed gently on another chord. And another. Bucky counted three more times you did this before you let your hands gently fall from the keys to your lap. Several moments passed before slid the headphones off of your ears to sit wrapped around your neck. Another deep breath. This time as the breath escaped you, you stayed slouched, head tilting up to stare at nothing on the wall.

A buzz broke Bucky from his trance.

“Call me, new mission” The text from Sam on his home screen said.

He pocketed his phone, glancing through the glass one more time. There you still sat.

Unmoving.

---

The roar of the plane’s engine was just loud enough to drown out Bucky’s thoughts without being annoying. If it weren’t for the adrenaline of the recovery mission under the cover of nightfall, he probably would’ve been lulled to sleep. Beside him sat Sam, looking on his phone for the exact coordinates of the politician they had been sent to rescue.

“Here it is. I’m assuming there’s some sort of underground base since there are no heat signatures anywhere within the radius where he was taken. It should take us about ten more minutes before we’re directly over it.”

Bucky hummed in acknowledgement.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Earth to Bucky.”

“What does your friend do?” Bucky asked suddenly, sitting up straighter and turning towards him.

“… What?”

“What does she do? I’ve never seen her leave the house. Is she okay?”

“If you’re asking why she doesn’t leave the house, it’s because her contract doesn’t start for a while. She’s technically still supposed to be in physical therapy but she hasn’t found a place yet. You know, your whole routine gets messed up when you move.”

“For her shoulder?”

Now it was Sam’s turn to look at Bucky, trying to decipher the motive behind these questions. Bucky shifted his weight in the chair, antsy under the scrutiny.

“Never mind, I-”

“Yes, for her shoulder.” Sam said, cutting him off. He stopped himself from asking why Bucky wanted to know. There was an awkward pause before Bucky explained himself.

“I just wanted to know. I’m not used to seeing people so…”

“Similar to yourself?”

“I was gonna say isolated but fair point.” Bucky admitted. Sam leaned back in his chair, looking straight forward.

“She’s been through a lot… I know you heard some of it.”

Bucky blinked in surprise.

“I realized the window was open when I could hear you drive off.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright, it’s good that you know.” Sam said as he held up his hand to cut Bucky off.

“She’s just trying to get a fresh start. She’s in a raw emotional space and in the meantime is a little skittish. Just like someone else I know.” Sam jabbed his elbow into Bucky’s side as he enunciated the last sentence.

“Okay, okay, I get it. I’m trying!” He shouted as he held one hand up defensively and using the other to block the second jab Sam was trying to get in. Sam chuckled and then stood up, grabbing a parachute pack and tossing it at Bucky, who caught it without even looking.

“Figured you might wanna try an actual chute this time.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and mouthed Sam’s words mockingly with a grimace as he put the backpack on. Clipping it into place, he joined Sam at the side door of the plane.

“She used to play in an orchestra you know.” Sam said wistfully. “The piano. That’s actually how we met. She had volunteered to play a small concert before the dinner. It really helped raise a lot of money for the VA.”

Bucky stayed silent, prompting him to continue.

“Then that bastard she was engaged to beat her and then shoved her down a set of concrete steps when she tried to leave him. It was like a month after we all came back. She was in the hospital for a while. Broken ribs, broken shoulder, and a nasty concussion to boot. Neighbor saw the whole thing and called the cops but the courts were so backed up and the case fell through the cracks. Wouldn’t leave her alone after he got out. So, I pulled some strings and helped her move down here on the fly.”

“… That’s terrible.”

Bucky didn’t know what to say or how to react. They stood in silence, taking a moment to pay a respect of sorts to the trials you have been through. Then Sam broke the silence.

“She just needs time to heal in more ways than one. But she’s strong. Resilient.”

Putting a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, he squeezed it lightly with reassurance.

“Reminds me of someone else I know.” Sam said, finishing the conversation and pulling his goggles over his eyes, giving Bucky the opportunity to take the compliment without feeling too on the spot.

Pulling the door open, Sam shouted over the wind.

“Ready?”

Bucky nodded. Sam jumped from the plane and deployed the wings, the shield shining in the moonlight. Bucky jumped right behind him, using the glint of the silver star to guide his descent as he followed the man that gave the shield its meaning.

---

You laid with your head down on the kitchen table, letting the last golden rays of sun warm the side of your face. You were exhausted from going to physical therapy, especially since today had been the first appointment. All the measurements, all the exercises, all the stretching.

All the questions.

“So, how did you break your shoulder?” the young blonde physical therapist asked.

“Ah, I… fell down some stairs.” You said, looking down at your hands in your lap.

She didn’t look up from the papers, instead just raising an eyebrow.

“You also cracked some ribs and had a concussion?”

“… They were concrete.”

She looked up from the papers at you, analyzing. Her gaze softened and she asked no further questions on how these serious injuries had been obtained.

“Let’s look at your range of motion.”

You had practically stumbled into the house, kicking off your sneakers and plopping down at the kitchen table. Minutes passed by as you regained your breath, heartbeat steadying. The house was slightly cold since you had turned the heat down this morning. As your sweat cooled, you wrapped your arms around your legs in an attempt to keep you warm without getting up.

The sun feels so warm… You thought to yourself drowsily, feeling slightly less lonely. The sun was a cheap substitute for the warmth of a partner…

---

You jolted upright, the kitchen dark and cold. Neck and shoulder stiff from the awkward position you had dozed off in. Feeling the dryness of your mouth, you got up, stretching your neck gently while you walked to the fridge to get water. Chugging about half the bottle, you squinted at the clock. You had been asleep for about forty-five minutes. Groaning, you put the bottle down on the counter and walked into the living room to close the curtains. Grabbing one in each hand, you went to pull them together when you hesitated, noticing that Bucky’s apartment was dark for the third day in a row. The sleek motorbike that was usually parked under the slight overhang of the garage was missing as well.

He was probably on a mission, right? Not that it was any of your business. You shut the curtains and turned off the lights before lightly padded down the hall, stopping to adjust the thermostat. The heat kicked on, sending a puff of cold air your way. You shivered as you walked with a quickened pace to your room, shutting the door and heading into the master bathroom, turning the hot water on with just a tad of cold.

Waiting for the shower to warm up, you leaned over the sink and looked into the mirror. Dark circles under your eyes. Small scar on the bridge of your nose. Running your hand through the roots of your hair, you felt for the scar where the stitches had been. When was the last time you had a haircut? Or put on some makeup?

Some higher being must’ve felt pity for you since the steam from the shower fogged the glass, preventing you from tearing yourself apart any further. Stepping underneath the warm stream, you let the warmth seep into your muscles, then bones, filling every fracture and break with a temporary sense of wholeness until the emptiness of your heart and home caused it slowly to drip out until it, along with you, was gone.

---

The next morning, you weren’t motivated to do anything. You lounged around the house, sipping on coffee and browsing on your phone for furniture, clothes, even sneaking a peak at some pianos. Wanting to invest in one you’d use for the next several decades, you had put off buying one until the money from your contract with the orchestra started in a month. You were still well off, nowhere near struggling and probably wouldn’t ever be unless you decided to buy a mansion (which was a no). You just wanted to be careful.

In the afternoon, you popped a pain killer and muscle relaxer in preparation for the few hours you wanted to practice. Thirty minutes went by and the ever-present ache in your shoulder calmed enough to let you practice with relative peace. Sitting on the bench in front of the keyboard, you pondered what you might play to warm up.

Hmm, maybe a Chopin prelude? Short, emotional, familiar.

Your left hand held the soft deep chords as your right hand softly flitted around the higher notes. Breathing in and out with the music, you tried to ignore the ache that start to surround your shoulder.

Playing the last few notes, you paused before reaching over to the bottle of painkillers.

---

Shortly after finishing up, you dragged a small table outside next to the wooden bench swing that was hanging on the porch. Bundled up in a soft sweatshirt, long-sleeve shirt, wool lined leggings, fuzzy socks and slippers, you brought out your hot tea, several blankets, a pillow, and a book you had been meaning to read for months. You were determined to do something besides practice, watch TV, and scroll on your phone.

You settled onto the bench, wrapping the blanket around you, nice and toasty from the layers trapping in the heat of a thorough practice session. The extra medication had really helped keep the pain at bay. Tentatively sipping the steaming cup, you closed your eyes to further appreciate the sweet tones of peach and honey. Setting the cup in your lap with one hand, you used your other hand to flip open to the first page.

---

Bucky hadn’t expected the mission to get so complicated. Finding the base was one thing, navigating in and out of the expansive maze was another. It took a few days to successfully get the target out and back to the embassy. He hadn’t properly slept during that time due to taking shifts with Sam. Not that it was any different from how he slept at home.

The sun was letting its last few rays bless the earth when he turned onto the driveway. Taking it easy on the gravel, he eased his posture and slowed the bike. He put pressure on the brakes as he made it past the final wall of trees that hid the water that was reflecting the last bit of color left in the sky. Rolling casually into a stop, he parked and let out a deep breath, shoulders sinking.

A stray bird calling out turned his attention in the direction of your house. The porch light was on. That’s new, he thought. Squinting his eyes, he saw a bundle on the porch swing. Was that you? Quietly walking over while taking his leather gloves off, he confirmed his suspicions. There you were, lying on your side propped up by a large fuzzy pillow. Eyes closed and breathing rhythmically. Scanning the scene, he noticed the mug on the side table, empty except for the used teabag. Your book was closed, the page you were on marked by one of your fingers. You must’ve fallen asleep while reading.

“Hey…” Bucky said gently. No response besides a small nose scrunch.

He repeated himself a little louder, squatting to be at eye level while gently setting his hand on your arm and shaking you lightly. You groaned this time, eyes fluttering open, taking a moment to focus. You squinted and pushed yourself up into a sitting position, losing your place in the book and attempting to blink the heavy drowsiness from your eyes.

“Bucky?” You questioned hoarsely as you met his eyes. He was still crouching so you were looking slightly down at him. Brow furrowed, you searched the blue of his eyes before looking around to see how dark it had gotten. As you turned your head back to him, he stood back up, scratching the back of his neck just to occupy his hands.

“It’s starting to get cold. I didn’t want you to spend the rest of the night out here.” He explained, choosing to look out at the water, now dark. When he turned his head back, you had also turned your head to look at the water, exposing the side of your neck, the tendons and clavicle accentuated by the strain. Bucky swallowed and your eyes met his, oblivious.

“Ah, thank you. I must’ve fallen asleep reading. I just started going back to physical therapy so I’ve just been so wiped… Anyway,” you said, dismissing yourself mid-thought. He didn’t want to hear about all that. “…did you just come back from a mission?” You eyed the diagonal cuts of leather on his jacket, noting the missing sleeve that exposed the glint of the metal.

“Yeah. I was gone for a few days.”

“Okay. I’m glad you’re home safe.” You mindlessly said, picking up the book and other various items strewn about.

Home safe. What an unfamiliar phrase.

As the words echoed in his mind, you had opened the door and stepped in, turning your head slightly to look back at him.

“Thanks again… Good night.”

“Good night.” Bucky replied, watching as you shut the door softly behind you.

Slowly walking down the porch steps, he crossed the driveway to the garage. Turning his head just in time to see the last light turn off in your house, he stood with his hand on the knob, meditating on the effect that one short sentence had on him.

Glad you’re home safe. Was this what it was like when you had someone waiting on you at home? The tired eyes and gentle smile. Would that be what it was like when he came home in the middle of a night from a mission when he had someone to share a bed with? Gently shaking them to let them know he was home? Or would he try to sneak into bed without waking them? He tried to imagine what that sort of intimacy would be like as he entered his apartment and then his room. Unzipping his jacket and tossing it over a chair, he stripped down to his boxer briefs and climbed into bed, wondering what it would be like if it was already warm.

#bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky imagine #SoundCloud

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pub-lius · 3 years

Text

De-Georgianizing George Bickham’s Penmanship Made Easy (Young Clerk’s Assistant)

I got this idea a while ago after I made my post about Weird History’s video on Alexander Hamilton, and after @quillsink complemented my post on 18th century penmanship and boosted my ego (you really shouldn’t complement me or I might have self esteem). So, here’s another informal post where I basically just profit off of an old, dead man’s work :D

In the 18th century, people weren’t just given crayons and told to write their name and figure it out from there. They learned from workbooks, like the Young Clerk’s Assistant, that showed them how to from the letters, how to sit properly, and gave example sentences to copy. For purposes of improving my god-awful handwriting and to see what it was like to learn how to write in the 18th century, I purchased this book and went through it, doing only the Round-hand because it looked the easiest.

Georgie starts by dictating every aspect of your entire life. Here’s a dumbed down version of his silly little list:

-The size of letters is determined by O and N, so make sure you know how to write those ig

-Georgie wants you to suffer so your down-strokes should be THICC and your up-strokes should be very tiny, done with the corner of your pen. Idk if it’s just my quills or if I’m stupid (probably both) but this is impossible and I gave up on this a long time ago

-NEVER TURN YOUR PEN OR THE POSITION OF YOUR HAND

-He says something weird about your up and down-strokes being proportioned and “answer one another” so I would just say uh... make it pretty

-Letters without stems (e, m, u, s, etc.) MUST be even at the top and bottom, so like the same width and height

-Your stems (d, h, etc.) should be equal in height to lowercase L, except t. This drives me crazy because I’m so used to making t the same as the other letters with stems, but its supposed to be shorter, like closer to i.

-Stems going below (y, q, etc.) should be equal in length to j. As you can tell, symmetry is key

-Capitals should be equal to lowercase L, but “a little stronger”, so I’ll leave that up to your interpretation

-The space between words should be twice the difference between letters, and the spaces between lines should be twice the distance of L, so that low hanging stems don’t intersect with the line below. I, apparently, forgot this rule lol

-Hold your pen between two fingers, almost straight (???) and the thumb bending. The nib, or point, of your pen should be flat

-Put your paper directly in front of you and your hand should be supported by your pinkie finger (gotta do some finger gymnastics jesus).

-Rest your arm ~lightly~ between the wrist and elbow (okay then)

-Sit up straight you baby and keep your elbow close to your side

-Rest your body on your left arm, keeping the paper down with your left hand. And eat food by chewing and breathe by taking in air through your nose and mouth

-NEVER LEAN HARD ON YOUR PEN (make me)

-write slow at first :)

-this one is stupid. make the nib of your pen (”for the round and round hand text hands”) the ~breadth~ of the full stroke, and the part close to the hand? shorter and narrower. I don’t understand this so I don’t listen (omg do I follow any of these rules jesus-)

-for the Italian Hand, make the nib ~finer~ and the slit? longer (if you chose to use the italian hand you’re asking for these confusing rules i can’t help you)

-when numbers appear with letters, the numbers must slope

-numbers should also be bigger than letters

-when you’re writing numbers in columns (because you do that all the time) make them upright

For fun, I’m going to include some moral maxims because I thought some of them were pretty good and they’re good for practice and for examples of how the youth were educated. They had to copy these a bunch when they were learning so they at least subconsciously learned them

-Art polishes and improves nature

-Beauty’s a fair but fading flower

-Fortune’s a fair but fickle mistrefs [mistress]

-Knowledge is a godlike attribute

-Necefsiy [necessity] is the mother of invention

-Variety is the beauty of the world

-Zeal misapply’d is pious phrenzy

I also copied a couple exercises in this book such as copying the days of the week, the months and their amount of days, and a list of Christian names. There’s also this funny little passage that I copied, so I’ll include that as the conclusion to this post. BTW it’s sounds a bit misogynistic but I can’t exactly discern a moral? Like it’s just like “you know how water moves with wind? Yeah women are like that but instead of junk being in the water, the dirt and stuff is men.” and im like “...okay? is that... is that it?” Idk i hate poetry.

“In a dull Stream, which moving flow, You hardly See the Current flow. If a Small Breeze obstructs the Courfe [course], It whirles about for want of Force; And in its narrow Circle gathers Nothing but Chaff, & Straw, & Feathers. The Current of a Female’s Mind Stops thus, and turns with every wind. Thus whirling round, together draws Fools, Fops, & Rakes, for Chaff & Straws.”

#18th Century #1700s #1700s literature #historical writing #18th Century Literature #literature #writing #Handwriting #calm down george #im not doing hand gymnastics for a man #women are like water #i learned that chaff means like the husk of corn #idk why that fact disturbed me

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spicyfloaty · 3 years

Text

Give & Take | Chapter 1

pairing: kacchako

genre: slowburn/fluff

words: 1.5k

summary: Ochako's grades are slipping. Bakugo is dangerously nearing suspension, or worse, expulsion. A certain twist of fate pairs them together for tutoring sessions. He teaches her math. She keeps him from getting suspended. A simple exchange, but what if this only brings them closer than necessary?

note: i accidentally deleted my tumblr account and now im gonna post these all over again god fucking dammit sdkjfhkjhkfd

header credits: @alexbenedetto

[READ ON AO3]

Chapter One: Hesitation and Acceptance

“I don’t think you need anyone telling you what you most likely already know, but you’re failing almost all of your classes, Uraraka.”

Ochako already had an inkling as to what this sudden meeting was for, but the news still hits her as hard as it would if she were hearing it the first time. She was aware of how fast her grades had been slipping these past few weeks, but she couldn’t really do much about it since she already had her part time job to worry about, let alone the extra training she had been doing to make up for the classes she had been missing because of said part time job. She barely even had any more time to visit her parents to give them the paycheck she just got that month, how is she going to find the time, hell, the energy, to cram 2 weeks-worth of homework in one night?

Her eyes drop to her feet, “I know, Mr. Aizawa, it’s just that I can hardly fit anything into my schedule anymore.” She knows this wasn’t an excuse her professor would accept that easily, she just knows. She grips the fabric of her skirt as her guts sinks lower and lower, shame and disappointment weighing on her like a ton of bricks. A few seconds pass and she hears Aizawa sigh. She looks up to see a piece of paper being slid across the table, “I heard about your father’s injury. Balancing your responsibilities here at UA and the responsibilities you have at home isn’t an easy thing to do, but I thought of a schedule that might lighten the load.”

Ochako scans the schedule her teacher had made for her, tears threatening to spill from her eyes upon realizing that he was right, it did lighten the load. Her attention then zeroes in on the text written beside Thursday and Friday, Tutoring Session, but what catches her off guard was the name directly below it.

Bakugo Katsuki.

“I see you already noticed the cost that comes with this proposition,” Ochako didn’t even realize her mouth was open until Mr. Aizawa pointed his pen at it. Bakugo? Is he seriously going to have Bakugo Katsuki, the boy with the fuse as short as the width of a hair, the boy whose every waking moment was dedicated to being angry at absolutely nothing, tutor her, someone he’s barely spoken more than 10 words to, most of all someone who’s friends with the apparent center of all his rage. Well, the friends part was still debatable.

“You’re joking—” It was only until her palm flew straight to her mouth when she realized that she already spoke her mind.

“Does it look like I’m joking?” Mr. Aizawa asks pointedly. “I already made arrangements with the rest of your teachers to accommodate for the time you will be spending on your part time job, you will be having at least 4 hours of tutoring a week with Bakugo on Thursdays and Fridays to make up for it.”

Ochako was still staring at her new schedule, as if looking at it any longer would change anything about it. Her thoughts began to race, desperately thinking of some kind of alternative she could offer, “What about Momo?” She looks up at Aizawa only to find his gaze locked on his computer screen. He clicks a few keys, “She already has her hands full with Kaminari, Mina, and Jirou.”

Ochako takes a deep breath and thinks harder, “Iida?” Aizawa presses a few more keys and takes a sip out of his coffee mug, “He’s already helping Momo out with those three.”

She looks away, eyes darting to anywhere but the god forsaken schedule in front of her hoping for another idea to fly by her mind before it’s too late. Another name pops in her head, she wouldn’t even think about considering being alone with him again given their history and the awkwardness that followed it, but these were desperate times and it called for desperate measures.

”What about…Midoriya?” This time, Aizawa faces her, a part of her hoped that it was because she had given him an option he hasn’t considered yet, but to her dismay, she was wrong.

“Yes, Midoriya was my first choice while putting all of this together, but after checking with All Might, he said that it would “interfere” with Midoriya’s schedule.” Aizawa explains with a hint of annoyance. Ochako should have known this, she should know more than anyone else that Deku’s time had been spent more and more with training lately.

Ochako felt defeated, she couldn’t think of anything else to say to try and convince her teacher that she would do anything else except being taught by Bakugo. It’s not like she was scared of him or anything, sure, she didn’t want to have a one on one session with someone who would flip the table if she forgot to carry the one, but the truth is that she admired him almost as much as she did Deku. It was a no-brainer to anyone that as hot headed as Bakugo might be (is), he is consistently one of Class 2A’s, if not UA’s, top performing students. The main reason she was against this unfortunate match up was because she's a hundred percent certain that Bakugo wouldn’t consent to it.

“Is Bakugo okay with this?” She asks, Aizawa’s gaze shifts to the back of the office, she follows and instantly gets her answer. She didn’t notice it when she first came in, but there were prominent scorch marks splashed across the wall with soot dusting the floor beneath it. If someone were to just pass by without giving it a second glance, it would almost look like shadows. Judging by how fresh it looked, she assumed that Bakugo’s talk with Aizawa wasn’t long before hers. It’s either that or her professor was simply too lazy to clean it off.

“He obviously had more…opinions regarding this, but after further…discussion, it was mutually decided that this would be the best option that would benefit the both of you.”

Both of us? Just how could Bakugo possibly benefit from tutoring her?

“No one gets to stay at UA with above average marks alone.” Aizawa adds. Turns out Bakugo was dangerously nearing suspension because of his recent behavior, sending 2 2C students to the infirmary would be the highlight of said behavior, Ochako still remembered that day as if it were yesterday. How could she not? She was the first one from their class to walk by and see the altercation, obscured by a growing crowd egging on the fight. She never found out what it is Bakugo was yelling about, but she knew enough cuss words to decode part of a sentence or two, but it wasn't what he was saying that stuck with her though, it was the way he looked. She had always seen him angry on a daily basis to know what he looked like upset, but as he was being dragged away, she could have sworn that for a split second, she saw his expression slip from one of anger to that of sadness.

"Simply put, Bakugo's conduct, despite his grades being top notch, could very much end up being the cause of his expulsion."

Aizawa offered Bakugo a way to somehow salvage his conduct grade by pairing him with a struggling classmate in order to show the Administration Board that he was displaying compassion and camaraderie. Aizawa saw this as an opportunity to hit two birds with one stone.

If only one of the birds didn’t know how to hit back, harder.

After explaining, he asks her once more, not like she had much of a choice, if she was on board with the plan. Her mind drifts to an image of Bakugo suspended, spending the week alone in the dorms while everyone else spends it in their classes. Ochako wasn’t blind for her to not notice the expression Bakugo wore, almost the same kind as the one she remembered from the fight, whenever she saw him during the mornings when he and Deku were placed under house arrest last year. They haven’t spoken to each other that much, if you can count tch and outta the way, round face as conversations, but she knew that if there was anyone who genuinely wanted to be in class, as much as he doesn’t care to make it obvious, it was Bakugo. Her heart ached at the thought of Bakugo missing out on classes and training when the first thing about him was his unrelenting drive to be the best in all of them.

With terrible timing, another idea floats inside her head, but Ochako already knew what her answer was. She knew that she can easily offer to take supplementary classes with one of their teachers instead, but she realized that maybe Bakugo needed this more than she did.

Which is why she agrees.

#kacchako #kacchako fic #kacchako fanfiction #kacchako fluff #kacchako slowburn #ao3 #ao3 kacchako #bakuraka #kacchako week #bakuraka week #kacchako week 2020 #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugo x uraraka #mha ochako #urakara ochako #bnha #mha #bnha fanfiction

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lynenspray · 4 years

Text

joygi 02

prompt: seulgi is bar owner who got a bleeding nose and a cut from a bar fight. joy, one of her bartenders she's got so much sexual tension with, tends to seulgi's wound in her office and they end up fucking there. that's the start of them fucking during work hours.

(post-betaed by pparkimm)

---

i can't make this wrong when i see your face

(joygi gp!seulgi office sex)

"should I lock the door?"

seulgi nodded her affirmation and took a seat in her office chair, trying to wipe away the blood that dried on her face to no avail.

this was awkward.

she sat as stiff as a board when joy placed the rag and a small metal ice bucket on the side table that was full of warm water, at least for now.

when joy moved in closer and took seulgi's chin in hand, all she could do was hope her heart didn't beat out of her chest and that she wouldn’t notice the goosebumps that had risen along her arms.

the dim lights weren't doing much to help keep her mind off of her employee, joy’s exhale ghosting over her skin, joy’s hand delicately cupping her jaw, joy’s eyes staring intently at her—

nose.

it made the bar owner nervous, practically on the edge of her seat. joy's grip on her jaw was firm and strong; she could only gulp when the younger woman clicked her tongue at what she saw.

joy leaned back and seulgi could breathe again, if a little shakily. the younger woman didn't seem to notice. "at least it's not broken."

seulgi would snort if she knew it wouldn't hurt so much, but she'd really rather not risk it. “thanks, that explains the pain,” she responded, voice nasal. their proximity enabled seulgi to feel the younger's body warmth, mere inches away.

it wasn't the first time seulgi felt this heat, this tension.

sometimes, she'd feel it on the nights seulgi would opt to help tend the bar when one of the boys took a day off. the space allotted for the employees was by no means too small, about a few feet in width, but it felt suffocating when it was joy with her. there was a sort of electricity that sparked in the space between them, mesmerizing seulgi and making her unconsciously step closer, brushing their sides, caressing joy’s muscular arms, bumping elbows when preparing drinks.

other times, it would be right here in this office. seulgi usually asked one of her employees to come in after work to catalog their inventory and sales for the day; she preferred consistent, daily updates, and joy seemed to prefer volunteering for them. if the nights when seulgi helped tend were suffocating, these were even worse. she couldn’t even think about breathing when joy was in this space, too close, hovering over the bar owner by her desk, trailing a hand on her back that made her shiver, that made her embarrassingly hard underneath the oak desk.

whatever you do, seulgi, do not think about that.

she shouldn’t think about joy’s warmth pressed along her side, or her long fingers pointing out figures as they took inventory, or her slightly plumped bow shaped lips and the way a tongue peeked out to lick them as she smiled at patrons invitingly, sensually. she shouldn’t think about how seulgi wanted that look directed at her.

seulgi squirmed in her seat, trying to shake it off. the tightening feeling in her gut and the barely noticeable bulge in her pants weren’t exactly promising.

"are we done here?” she said, feeling the telltale coil in her gut that meant she definitely had to deal with this. alone. and quickly. “the bar isn't going to tend itself."

the younger woman leveled her with a look before letting go of her jaw as seulgi swiftly shifted and crossed her legs, leaning forward to hide her boner with the folds of her clothes.

she watched joy grab the towel dampened with warm water and felt her eyes widen. did she plan on staying here for even longer?

“I can take care of it—” she interrupted, backing away when joy came closer with the wet cloth and aimed it at her bloodied face.

joy paused and then really gave seulgi a look, making the older woman flit her eyes away. “you said the exact same thing when that patron was making a move on me, and look where that got you. a split lip and a bleeding nose. honestly.” seulgi felt like a puppy with its tail between its legs with how harshly joy was glaring at her. “I didn’t need the help. it comes with the job description of being a gorgeous bartender.”

seulgi frowned as joy dabbed the cloth onto her face, wiping off the dried blood from her lip and around her jaw. “sure, okay,” seulgi replied, annoyed. “it doesn’t have to come with the job description, though. nothing wrong with that line of work, but that’s not what you’re here for. you’re here to serve drinks and that’s it,” she rattled on, feeling more and more unsure as she watched a mischievous smile spread on joy’s face.

she doesn’t like that look. no, wait, she does. just not in this situation, where joy is half a foot away and seulgi is sporting a fucking boner.

“so you agree?”

the bar owner blinked. “what?”

joy gave her face one last swipe before placing the towel back down, her gaze playful and flirty. no. seulgi doesn’t like that look at all. it was the kind of smile she had on when she was playing a prank on one of seulgi’s other employees—and seulgi did not want that.

“you think I’m a gorgeous bartender?” joy teased, grin wide and teasing.

oh, christ. seulgi felt her face heat up as she cleared her throat, avoiding the woman’s eyes. she couldn’t lie—that was against the rules of a boss-employee relationship. or something. probably. “yeah, alright, sure,” she admitted, looking back at the other woman to find joy staring at her in pleased surprise. her next statement caused those beautiful lips to part with a soft gasp, however, and soon joy was sporting her own blush.

“you’re my gorgeous bartender. and no one is allowed to hit on my—you—on any of my employees during work hours.”

joy let out a surprised laugh and turned around. even with the dim lighting, seulgi could spot the red tint of her ears. it probably rivaled the hue of her own.

she cleared her throat awkwardly as joy opened the tube of antiseptic, coming back around to face seulgi with a much more unreadable look on her face. “you can’t make up rules like that, boss. that wasn’t in the contract.”

“of course I can,” seulgi argued. “it’s my bar.”

the younger woman just shook her head, but she couldn’t hide the rosy blush on her face that seulgi could spy. it was kind of cute. “sure, boss. tell me the next time you get fiesty over patrons flirting with your other bartenders then,” she said as she applied the cream over the cut on seulgi’s lip.

the older woman made a sound of discontent. taeyong and jaehyun would be fine shooing off advances on their own. joy, on the other hand… "it’s not the same, and you know that.”

“because I’m a woman who needs protection?” joy cut her off, her tone dangerous. “I never thought you would have a backwards view like that.”

seulgi clicked her tongue. “aish, no, it’s not that. it’s just that the patrons that flirt with them aren’t usually older men—”

joy raised a brow.

“—okay, fine, some of them are older men,” seulgi yielded. “but those older men aren’t bigger and stronger than those two. they can take them on if things get out of hand.”

the younger woman shook her head as she finished up rubbing the ointment on seulgi’s cut skin. "yeah, and that patron was bigger than both of us. it also looks like things got out of hand anyway," she mused, raising a brow at seulgi's state. "but I guess I appreciate the thought. so, thank you. it means a lot." she capped the tube but otherwise didn't move an inch.

joy's gaze was just as intense as it was when she was looking over seulgi, if not more. was it just seulgi, or did it suddenly get hot in here?

the bar owner nodded quickly. "yeah, it was no problem," she waved a hand. "you should—uh," seulgi stammered, eyes widening when joy seemed to lean in closer. "aren't you done? I feel fine. the bar—"

"has two competent employees manning it." joy was still staring at her. "and didn't you hear me? I want to thank you. appropriately."

it was like the air shifted around them in the few seconds it took for seulgi to gather her wits. there was something almost sinister in joy’s gaze, in the way her eyes searched all over seulgi’s face, in the way they slowly looked down, further, further, and seulgi felt her cock throb even more. joy refused to budge. and then the bartender blinked and looked back up.

“did you hear what he said to me?"

seulgi gulped at the breathless tone of joy's voice, struck by the wide blacks of the taller woman's pupils. she shook her head.

"he said I could put these lips and this mouth to better use than asking for their drink orders," joy whispered, causing the hair on the back of seulgi's neck to stand up.

among other parts of her.

"on your knees, he told me. I was thinking about how long it's been since I've gone down on someone—not him, don't worry," joy laughed at what was probably an incredibly disgruntled look on seulgi's face. "and then the person I was considering came in and socked him in the face."

wait—was joy talking about… "me?"

joy snorted. “yes, you. unless someone else decked and knocked him out with a second punch after she got distracted checking if I was okay and getting a bruised lip because of it.”

seulgi felt like a deer caught in headlights. what was she supposed to say to that?

that sometimes she thinks about it too? that imagining joy’s body against hers was a guilty pleasure she hid away? that hearing joy’s voice take a sultry, breathy tone made her knees weak?

that if she asked, seulgi would probably say yes?

“boss—seulgi. I’m only going to ask this once. I know it’s against the rules, but,” joy started, and seulgi’s eyes were locked on her red-tinted lips. “can I thank you? in the way I was imagining?"

and risk a sexual harassment case?

“yes.”

to hell with it.

joy’s hand snuck its way to seulgi’s collar until she could roughly tug her up and out of her seat. seulgi let herself be pushed back against the side of her desk, a ragdoll in joy’s strong grip.

the taller woman stepped in between seulgi’s legs and dragged her hands down against seulgi, under her jacket, unbuttoning her blouse. seulgi's own hands shook and simply found purchase behind her, afraid that she would collapse otherwise.

joy didn’t kiss her. but she looked like she wanted to.

seulgi wanted to as well, but maybe that was too much, too soon. and she had antiseptic on her lips, which was probably the opposite of sexy anyway.

“do you want me?” joy breathed against her, lips on her neck, biting into the muscle there, tongue exploring the exposed skin of seulgi’s chest.

seulgi groaned. of course she did. since day one.

“as much as I want you?” her long fingers make their way to her waist, to the clip of her slacks, swiftly taking them off and fondling her strained length beneath her underwear. “do you?”

“more.” she didn’t know if she meant that as an answer to joy’s question or an invitation along with the bucking of her hips; likely, it was both. she wanted everything joy was willing to give.

the shape of joy’s lips when they curved into a smirk sent seulgi into a frenzy, practically vibrating where she leaned against her own desk. or maybe it was how joy took her time in sinking to her knees, in pulling the garter of seulgi’s underwear down, in holding onto seulgi's thighs and nosing at her almost fully erect cock.

“god,” joy hissed, licking at seulgi’s balls and looking up at her through her lashes. “I can tell that I won’t get enough from just a taste.” seulgi knew what she meant; this couldn’t be a one time thing if it was up to joy. it wasn’t, but seulgi—she wanted it too. maybe for longer. ever since joy first stepped foot into la rouge and applied for the job months ago.

“then have more. whatever you want.” seulgi placed a hand against joy’s hair and pushed her closer, sparking a gasp out of the younger woman. “as much as you want.”

joy chose not to let her opportunity slip away and licked a stripe against the underside of seulgi’s dick, making the older woman moan. she kissed seulgi's tip and covered her crown with her mouth, lips pressing against her and sucking, yanking a loud gasp out of seulgi and causing her to bury her fingers into joy’s long locks of hair.

more.

seulgi's hips started jerking almost without her realizing it, only noticing when the warm cavern covered a third of her member, and then half, and then so deep that joy gagged when her tip hit the back of her throat.

"fuck! I'm sorry—"

joy stopped her with a shake of her head, focusing on the dick in front of her. "no, keep going." she stared on, determined. "keep going," she repeated.

seulgi watched joy slurp her cock in her inviting mouth again, relaxing her jaw and looking up at her, waiting expectantly.

experimentally, seulgi canted her hips and watched joy take her as best as she could, brow furrowing, eyes focused on her and whether she was pleasuring her. seulgi felt hands press into her thighs, fingers digging into her; seulgi picked up her pace until she was jackhammering into the hole joy's mouth provided.

the sounds of joy's sucking were loud, though they didn't bounce off the insulated walls. they could be as noisy as they wanted to be here; neither the bar music outside nor the sounds of their groans in tandem would bleed through.

eventually seulgi fucked joy’s mouth until she bottomed out, before withdrawing completely and letting joy catch her breath. she watched the younger woman wipe the drool that dripped down her chin, looking dazed. it made seulgi wonder what she’d look like if she were cleaning up her cum instead.

the older woman tugged her pants and underwear down until they reached mid-thigh, giving joy easier access to her, and the woman didn't disappoint. she came forward and buried her face into the junction between seulgi's shaft and the rest of her crotch, drowning in seulgi's heat and smell.

a hiss came out of seulgi when joy rolled a tongue against her balls, fat and wet, curious in its exploration of the most sensitive parts of her. she groaned and rolled her head back, her throat constricting at the heady feeling.

she almost didn't notice joy tug her clothes even lower, past her knees, until they and her shoes were abandoned on the floor; seulgi chose to take off everything else above the waist herself.

"you too," seulgi demanded, breathlessly observing the way joy's muscles moved beneath her skin as she took her uniform maroon button down and vest off, followed by her slacks and the rest of her clothes.

joy was beautiful. almost ethereal; even better than what seulgi could have imagined with what little the woman's tight clothes left for her to think up herself.

she invited joy closer as they placed their chins on each other's shoulders, pressing their fronts together and feeling the other breathe. while seulgi wrapped her arms around the other woman's waist and traced lines against her back, joy's hand pumped her dick in between them.

they were so close that seulgi felt the other woman shiver as she trailed a hand down against the plump of her ass, pulling her cheeks apart and slipping a finger in between, reaching for her slick hole and finding it, slowly teasing and causing joy to get even more wet.

"oh g-god," she heard her whine by her ear, mewls escaping her at a steady pace as her hand on her dick fell limp, legs opening wider. maybe she hoped that seulgi would rub her more, sink a finger into her.

"what do you want?" seulgi asked, dipping the tip of her middle finger into joy's welcoming pussy. "this? me?"

"yes, yes, god, everything. fuck me," joy cried, rocking back into seulgi's hand as she plunged her finger until a knuckle slipped past the rim, moaning at the wanted intrusion. "fuck me."

seulgi growled and gently pushed joy away to turn around; now the other woman was against the desk and she was in between her legs. the bar owner opened a drawer and pulled out a foil packet.

"you keep condoms in there?"

she felt her ears burn in embarrassment. "easier to clean up that way, when I'm alone. it's not, uh, meant for…" she trailed off, distracting herself by opening the aforementioned object.

seulgi startled when joy took it from her hands and expertly stretched and unrolled it over her cock, pleasuring her all the while.

"they're meant for me now too," she declared, twisting her hand around seulgi's dick and causing seulgi to buck her hips in response. "so stock up on them, okay?"

the older woman could only nod in response, surprised and enraptured.

"how do you want me, boss?"

seulgi let out a hiss as joy continued jacking her off. the desk had too many things on it, and seulgi was willing to bet that some important files would be ruined or lost if they got carried away. also there was a bucket of water on it. not a good idea. neither was fucking on her office chair.

then seulgi remembered the image of joy at the bar when the older woman would help out. the bartender would lean over the counter but not too much, and seulgi would quickly slip in the space behind her. it was barely a fraction of a second, but seulgi kept it in her mind; burned it into her retinas.

"against the wall. I want to take you from behind."

seulgi’s eyes followed joy’s form as she did as she was told, taking position against the wall by her desk, leaning forward with an arm against the carpeted wall and reaching behind her to pull a cheek wider, inviting seulgi to come closer.

she stepped right behind her, pleased by how their height difference gave her the perfect angle to pierce joy’s dripping folds. she held her shaft in hand and pulled the other cheek, helping joy open up for her, sinking her dick in slowly to the sound of their groans. “you’re so big.” joy’s voice came out guttural, as if she was struggling to speak. seulgi absolutely was.

the heat of joy’s entrance clamping down on her was almost overwhelming. she tried not to slam into her, but it was a battle that seulgi was quickly losing; joy swirled her hips and arched her back, casting shadows against her skin that revealed her pulsing muscles.

“seulgi—”

she couldn’t resist. seulgi humped into joy’s heat as the younger woman let out a groan that turned into a scream, pounding into her at a pace that seulgi’s body demanded of her, unable to stay away or out of joy’s pussy for any longer than she needed to.

“so tight, so tight for me,” seulgi husked out, leaning over joy and grasping at a shoulder as the other went to the taller woman’s waist, grunting all the while. the drag and constriction joy’s pussy provided sent seulgi to a different level; this was nothing like her hand or joy’s mouth, this was downright addicting. “fuck, so good, joy, joy.”

“right there,” joy whined, both arms against the wall now as seulgi roughly pounded into her, the older woman scratching at her back. “yessssss, give it to me.”

seulgi felt the sheen of sweat that caused her hand to slip from joy’s waist from time to time, the musk of their scents filling the air, the gasps and groans they let out heard by no one but the two of them.

“are you close?”

joy could only nod through seulgi’s rough pace.

with a moan, seulgi pulled out and turned joy around. “I want to see your face when you come,” she explained, letting joy explore the expanse of her torso, from her abs to her breasts, croaking a needy whine out of her as joy pinched and played with her nipples. seulgi did the same, pressing fingers all over the skin exposed, dragging against joy’s neck and circling the globes of her breasts, fondling them.

eventually joy steadied herself by holding onto her shoulders. seulgi took that as a signal to continue, and so she pulled joy’s leg up in order to slip into her much easier. there was some lingering drool on joy’s face, but the glazed look in her eyes had seulgi suspecting that some of it was new. and that she pulled it out of her.

“haah, oh, f-fuck, seulgi,” joy needily sighed, flushed and blissfully fucked-out, moans growing louder as seulgi placed a hand on her mound and rubbed a finger against her clit, sending her even higher.

the ache in seulgi’s legs after the repeated thrusting was drowned out by the heat boiling in her gut and causing her balls to throb—she was— “so close, baby. I’m going to cum.”

but joy came first, with a loud cry and her eyes rolling back. seulgi watched, transfixed, as joy reached her peak with a soundless scream, twitching and pulsing around her, whimpering as seulgi kept plunging into her slick heat.

“o-on my face,” joy stuttered, pushing seulgi back and getting on her knees again. she pulled the condom off seulgi’s pulsing dick and nuzzled into her crotch the same way she did earlier.

she felt her body stilling as the wave started to crash over her. “oh, fuck.” seulgi came at the sight of joy on her knees, pleading for her cum, the squeeze of joy’s hand wrapped around her, lips pleasuring her length. she jerked, shooting out her white cream and dripping all over joy’s face and waiting tongue. joy played with her, gently slapping seulgi’s cock on her flattened out tongue, asking for more. begging for it with her face.

it took a few more strokes until seulgi was completely emptied out, knees wobbling from the sudden high and eventual crash as she came back down. joy took her time in cleaning herself up; she seemed to prefer licking the rest of seulgi’s remaining spunk all over her softening dick instead.

“you look hot in my cum,” seulgi found herself saying, vacantly staring at joy and the slowly flowing liquid on her cheeks and nose. “really hot.”

“then it’s a good thing I like having it on my face. you’ll get a lot more of this view,” joy paused as she wiped and cleaned the semen all over her. “I mean. if you want to.”

seulgi blinked as joy gently pushed her back against her office chair, landing softly on the cushion. “if I want to…?”

“continue this…” joy trailed awkwardly, still kneeling in front of her. seulgi felt her cock wake up again at seeing joy like this, this close. the other woman approached her and placed her hands on seulgi’s dick, stirring it to life again.. “this, um. having sex at work thing. you won’t fire me, will you? I kind of need the money.”

seulgi blinked out of her stupor, too distracted by the feeling of joy’s fingers around her. “huh? oh, no. no that won’t happen. we should uh, haah,” she tried to start, whining at joy’s hand massaging her balls and inching their way lower, down to her rim and teasing it open as her legs automatically widened and lifted up at the touch. “we—should—numbers—”

“numbers?”

she tried to gather her wits as joy continued stroking her, already half hard now and begging for a finger to sink into her asshole. “exchange numbers,” she grunts out as joy wiggles a finger into her, first knuckle deep.

then joy stopped completely, looking at her with a blank face. “I’m your employee. you have my number. you text me asking if I’ll show up to work.”

seulgi groaned and let her head roll back as joy continued. “okay, yes, good, then just—yeah, just like that, baby.” she adjusted herself on her chair and raised her legs completely, hooking her hands under her knees as joy leaned in to kiss her balls and lubricate her fingers with spit, edging her second knuckle past the rim of seulgi’s relaxing anus. “joy! baby, please.”

“what do you want?”

seulgi gasped and looked back down at the other woman who was smirking up at her between her legs, finger in her ass and hand wrapped around her rock hard cock.

joy tilted her head, sparking another whine out of seulgi as she pumped her finger shallowly in and out of her. “more?”

desperately, seulgi nodded in response. she wanted all of what joy could give. “yes, please. more.”

#joygi #gp!seulgi #anon request

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lycorogue · 5 years

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Kyoru Week: Day 2 - Firsts

I’m gonna be honest, I wrote this in like 2hrs; it’s nearly 1am (so I missed the deadline for the 2nd day in a row), and so I haven’t really edited it. Sorry if there’s any typos. I’ll try to do a good polish/edit tomorrow when I’m awake again. :P

UPDATE: K. It should be all edited now. ^_^ UPDATE #2: I forgot to mention that you can also read this story on AO3, on FFN, or on DA

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Experience It All

Spoilers: Story is post high school graduation Romance Level: Newly Dating Word Count: 1493 Summary: It's the first apartment Kyo ever owned. The first one he and TOHRU ever owned. And he becomes surprised as to how many more "firsts" they have to go.

Kyo was buzzing with nervous energy. The keys to their new place clinked against each other as he spun the ring around his index finger, catching the keys and then spinning them in the opposite direction. Spin clockwise. Catch. Clink. Spin counter-clockwise. Catch. Clink. Spin clockwise again.

“Is this it?” Tohru clung to Kyo's left arm. She had been taking in the quaintness of the village he had moved her to, but upon hearing the jingle of the keys, she focused on the building before them.

“It's gonna be small,” Kyo warned, not moving as he took in the apartment complex. “It's not going to be like Shigure's place, or your grandfather's.”

“That's okay. Mom and I used to have a small place. Besides, I'm sure it will be way bigger than a tent.” She giggled, and hugged Kyo's arm close.

She had spent months in that tent, alone in woods she didn't realize had belonged to the affluent Sohma family.

Months. Alone.

Kyo had never been alone. Not really. He had been neglected, sure, and might as well have been alone. Still, he always had an adult near by. When he was real young it was his mother. Then, after she died and Kyo was all but disowned by his father, Kazuma Sohma took him in. He had loved Kyo, and the boy took that love for granted. Worse. He didn't accept that it was real, not before he met Tohru. Even when Kyo was lost within himself - after failing to save Tohru's mother – he wasn't alone. Kazume spirited him away to recover and revive. Then it was Shigure's turn to watch over Kyo.

For someone who felt isolated and unloved, he always had a guiding hand. He was the adult now; almost. He wasn't living in someone else's house anymore. This was his place. He held keys for his home. He was the master of this place. He wasn't sure he was ready for that sort of responsibility. Why couldn't he be a stupid kid again?

“Kyo-kun?” Tohru's soft voice brought Kyo back to the present. “Are we not in the right place?”

“No. No we are. Sorry. I was just-” He looked up at their apartment front door. He could do this, right? He could run a household. He could work full time as an apprentice at the local dojo. He could provide for Tohru. He could keep her happy and safe here. He could even save up enough for her to take the train back to Tokyo a few times each year to visit everyone. He was a man now. He could do it.

“Come on.” Tohru tugged a bit on his hand. “Show me our new place! I can't wait to see.”

Chuckling at her eagerness helped ease him. She could always do that. No matter his mood, she could always bring him to center. With a huge grin, he sprinted ahead, dragging her behind him as he took the stairs two at a time. She squealed with excitement as she ran with him.

“Ready for our new place?”

“Kyo-kun.” It was her turn to sound a bit nervous. “This is the first time it will be just the two of us in a home.”

“I know.” He pulled her into a hug, still marveling at the fact that he could hold her in his arms; feel her head nestled against his chest. “I'm sorry. It may be a bit lonely since you don't have others to keep you company while I'm out.”

She pushed away from him and shook her head. “We have all of these neighbors. I'm sure I'll find plenty of company here.”

“I know you well enough to know that it will be impossible for any of these people to not love you as soon as they meet you.” He gave her a quick kiss on the lips before resting his forehead against hers. “I'm sure in no time you'll have our place bustling just as much like a convention center as Shigure's house.”

Kyo unlocked the front door, and slowly sung it open. It was such a simple little abode. From the front door he could see the little galley kitchen to the left, the three-square-meter living room straight ahead, and the double glass doors to the porch just beyond that. There were three doors to the right: a bathroom, and two closet-sized bedrooms. Kyo wasn't even sure if the Western-style bed Shigure had bought Tohru a few years back would fit in her cubbyhole. As it were, his futon was probably going to carpet his room.

“Kyo-kun?” Tohru tried to scrunch down to look under Kyo's arm. Then she stretched on to her tiptoes to try to see past his shoulder. As she bobbed and weaved, Kyo realized he was still in the doorway, and was now broad enough to block most of it.

“Sorry.” He blushed slightly, and scratched the back of his head. “I- I know that now isn't traditionally when I'm supposed to do it, but-” He gulped and tucked the keys into his front pants pocket. “Would you mind if I, ya know, carried you in?”

Tohru's hopping ceased. Instead, a grin slowly stretched across her face, and her whole body appeared lighter; not as weighed down by gravity as it should. Holding her hands, folded, against her chest, she emphatically nodded.

Smiling back, Kyo knelt so he could scoop up her knees. Lifting her into a bridal carry, Kyo carefully stepped her over the threshold of their home. Their first home. Theirs. Instead of putting her down on the other side of the door, he continued to carry her to the teeny living room, and swung her around in a large circle. Hooting with excitement.

“Look at it, Tohru! This is ours! Just ours!” Kyo stopped in the center of the room, and lowered Tohru to her feet. While he was still leaning down, she kissed him.

“I love it.”

“Come on.” He took her hand and pulled her through the apartment. “This is obviously the kitchen. I hope it will be big enough for you to cook, but if not I'll figure something out for you. We could even put the rice cooker right here, just outside the galley. I could put a little table here or something.” He then ran to the bathroom. “It's not much, but it has a shower, and there's a hot spring nearby if you wanted to occasionally soak in a tub instead.” He pushed passed her, and escorted her to the first of the bedrooms. “This one looks a bit small. It can be mine if you'd like.”

“Yours?”

Kyo was too excited to register her question as he escorted her to the second bedroom. “Yeah. This one looks large enough for your bed. This can be your bedroom.”

“Mine?”

“And look! There's a large enough window for you to climb through, and the back porch runs the full width of our place. You could easily reach a line through here, and that way you don't need to leave the warmth of your room to hang up clothes even in winter.”

“Kyo-kun-”

He hopped through the window with ease and looked up. “I can even access the roof easily from here if I really wanted to!”

“Kyo-kun!” Tohru's voice was loud, but still meek.

“Hmm? Sorry. You wanted something, Tohru?” Kyo climbed back inside, and scooped her hands up into his.

“You said 'my room' and 'your room'.”

“Yeah.”

“I- well-” Her thumbs raced across his fingers; nervous energy shooting out of her. “I was- I mean, since we-” Her face bypassed pink and went straight to crimson. “I'm sorry, I'm being too forward. Nevermind.”

Now it was Kyo's turn to match a beet.

“Tohru, were- were you- do you mean- Did you expect us to share a room?”

She squeaked and ripped her hands from his so she could hide behind them.

Kyo was going to live without a supervising adult for the first time in his life, and his girlfriend wanted to share a bedroom. Wasn't he a high school student just a couple of weeks ago? How did life go this fast?

He gently bopped the top of her head with his knuckles, startling her enough to drop her shield of fingers. Before her surprise subsided, he cupped her face. He again rested his forehead against hers before pecking a kiss on the tip of her nose.

“You do not have to ask me twice to share a room with you, Tohru. We can use the other one for something else. Storage, or a library, or a study-”

“Or a practice room for you?”

“We can do whatever you want with it.” He scooped her into another hug, his heart racing with excitement. After three years with this woman, he still had so many Firsts to go through. He couldn't wait to experience them all.

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thoughtfulfangirling · 4 years

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[Revised] Bubblegum Facade

I... don’t think I ever posted my revision of this fic to Tumblr? Just put it up on AO3 I guess? So... I’m going to fix that because I want it on my blog.

The fic’s original description mostly still covers this:

“This fic was inspired from a combination of Docholligay’s fic here about air fresheners and the talk following about how D.Va might feel about Bubblegum after her fame in Korea’s MEKA. I just sat down and chucked the thoughts all out, so it’s not very well organized or constructed, so there’s you’re warning.”

I just changed things to incorporate her Shooting Star short since it was originally written some time before that. In a way, adding onto it made things messier but it was still fun SO YEAH.

In her peripheral, the small dot of neon-green went dark. Hana’s eyes swung for a moment to make sure she saw it correctly. The stream had cut out. She felt a wave of relief pour through her.

Usually, being live helped her. She had an audience to perform for, so it kept her head in the game. It made the shouting, the crisp orders, the drum of gunfire and bass of robotic legs pounding the earth for purchase all seem surreal, part of the game. She always knew it wasn’t, but tricking the mind to experience it like a game had powerful advantages.

But today, things were hard. Harder than she remembered them before. The dissonance of her fun-loving, competitive fervor against her need to concentrate like she never had before, with no energy for wrapping herself in a singular personality, had become too much. And squad B-14 was all but cornered and under hard fire. Her own squad needed to get to them.

“We need you on stage in five, D.Va.” Hana didn’t look away from her mirror, and the busy stage manager hurried on past the dressing room.

On the other side of the room, her PR manager Mok put a magazine with her face on it down and stood up, off the couch. He walked over to Hana’s chair and put his hands on the back of it, gripping the sides and looking at her reflection intently. “You know what to do kid. It’s just like usual. We had a great victory today. Okay?”

Hana raised her eyes from her own reflection to look at Mok’s. He didn’t usually try to pep talk her—she usually never needed it. It jarred her to realize how far gone she was, that she hadn’t built up her facade enough after the battle. She felt like she was out there still. Two hours hadn’t quite passed since they’d arrived back to the compound in retreat, really, so it should be no surprise after all. But why couldn’t she keep her hands from shaking if she lifted them out of her lap? Why was her face so smooth? Untouched? The battle out there had been perhaps one of the deadliest she’d been in, and here she was, unmarked and unharmed, at least physically. Unless her pounding heart and the unnatural heat flushing her skin turned into a heart attack. This didn’t feel at all like how those were described though. Also, she wished the ringing would stop.

The comm line opened up, heavy with static. “Unit D-01, we’ve lost four MEKAs. We need back up now .” Duri’s voice cracked into Hana’s ear. Their own unit had already lost two.

“Copy B-14.”

“D-01, disengage. We’ll come up on B-14’s flank.” Captain Myung instructed. “D.Mon, Overload, cover our retreat. Now move out!”

The MEKAs around Hana began falling back, still firing, but preparing for the boost off to the east. D.Mon and Overload’s MEKAs threw out defense matrixes. “Commander, there’s too many ahead for two MEKA’s to hold alone!” D.Mon’s voice came through desperately, on the verge of panic. Hana liked D.Mon. She’d been the first friend she’d made in MEKA, not treating her like a child at all. Hana hadn’t fallen back yet for that reason, throwing her defense matrix up after Overload’s went down, alternating. Three MEKA’s had enough power in their Defense Matrixes to rotate between and hold off fire indefinitely, but two would run out of power too quickly. Provided they could keep the Gwishins at a distance.

“D.Mon, hold your ground. D.Va, fall back! That’s an order.”

“Lowering Defense Matrix.” D.Va said, pressing the communication button as she said it. “Preparing to fall back.” She was needed elsewhere. There was still a squad that needed backup, and if the Kinshin’s tried to follow the larger group...

“Captain Myung!—”

“Stand your ground D.Mon!” Captain Myung’s voice was sharp. A moment later, D.Va hit her boost and flew off after the rest of her unit, leaving D.Mon and Overload behind.

Overload’s voice, light and excited, came through saying, “C'mon Yuna D! We can take these tin cans! Then the rest of the unit will owe us for having saved their sorry asses!”

As Hana stood to pull on her sport’s jacket—pink as her MEKA and blue as a robin’s egg—Mok pushed something into her shaking hands. Hana lifted the soft, thick packet. She looked down. More pink; her brand of bubblegum. There was the little rabbit head on the outside of the wrapper. The all too familiar, sickly scent of bubblegum wafted up to her. She hadn’t felt hungry since the battle was over, but they’d made her eat a protein bar and drink some water. It felt hard and heavy in her stomach now, and this scent just made it turn over.

“Hold onto that if you need to. Keep your hands steady. Go ahead and take one now.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Hana snapped, sounding more like herself than she expected. It had the desired effect though. Wary relief washed into Mok’s eyes. He thought he had her usual self back. “I know how to do this better than you.” She flipped her hair out from under the collar of her jacket. Yes. Now she could see that he believed everything was back to as how it should be. She saw him shift his stance—feet shoulder width apart, hips slightly forward, shoulders squared. He was more military than PR. He had always been here more to make sure to tell the MEKA narrative how they wanted, not to tell her how to be a celebrity. She knew that all on her own.

“You’re right. So get out there and do it! Remember, they can’t have any hint of how bad it got out there.”

“You mean how bad it is out there.” Her voice was light and sassy, not at all bitter and dark… as she really felt. This was why they’d cut out her feed wasn’t it, during the battle? Maybe if she had been able to keep up her facade, they could have played up that, while there were losses for MEKA, there were more for the omnics. But her mask had slipped.

Mok’s eyebrows had lowered, darkening his brow with anger at her insubordination. This wasn’t an unusual exchange, but it could make him suspicious just now.

Hana leaned in to look in the mirror and made a show of inspecting her eye-liner and touching it up. “What’s the story about losing the stream? Technical difficulties? You know the audience is going to want to hear why they didn’t get to watch the rest of the game.”

“Oh yes. Thank you for reminding me—”

“This is what I do, Mok.” She infused the words with exasperation at Mok’s ineptitude. He waved it off as usual.

“We did technical difficulties last time. Tell them you bumped the signal.” He had a weasel’s look on his face. She was quite certain they planned to go with technical issues until she’d annoyed him enough.

She put her eyeliner down. “If you think they’ll believe that.” She waved airily. “I suppose everyone makes mistakes sometimes.” Putting her eyeliner down had put her hand back by the pack of gum which was resting on the table. She picked it up and slipped two sticks out. Eight remained in the packet. She didn’t unwrap either stick, just kept them in her hand and slipped the rest of the pack in her pocket.

“They’re ready for you.”

“D-01 where are you?! We’re down to four MEKAs. We need backup now!” Druri called from ahead of them.

“Captain Myung! We can’t get out from under this fire—” An explosion cut off the communication, but everyone heard D.Mon’s cry. That whole sector had gone up. The little electronic indicators for where D.Mon and Overload’s MEKAs were went black. Offline.

“That explosion should keep Omnics from coming up behind us.” Someone commented, for even the omnics near that explosion would also be gone.

Just like D.Mon and Overload were now gone. If there had been even three of them behind, they could have retreated after the rest of D-01 had fallen back.

“We must abandon mission.” Captain Myung said through the communicator. It was uncharacteristic of her, commenting in battle rather than ordering.

“Commander! We have a chance at least getting B-14 out. There are no omnics behind us. Their four plus our remaining six is a full unit. It should be enough to get to them and back to base.” It was his second in command, Casino, speaking. They were smart and calculated. Only age kept them from being a captain of their own.

“We can’t risk it. Fall back!”

“I’m sorry Commander. I can’t leave Duri out there when we know we’d have enough!” Casino insisted. “I’m going on ahead.”

“We’re going with Casino Commander!” Hana heard King call out. No one was falling back as Sun ordered.

“D.Va, fall back now!” He ordered in a voice that brooked no arguments. D.Va’s fists tightened around her controls. Would they dismiss her? If she also refused? She closed her eyes, and turned her MEKA around. As she and Sun retreated, Druri got back on the communicator just long enough to plead for help, scream, and communications to go dead. They hadn’t even been close in saving her.

As D.Va made her entrance, she determined not to think about it. Two MEKAs made it home. Casino was one of them, and they had nothing to look forward to in MEKA holding. No one from B-14 had survived. All that, and they’d had to use their last resort weapon which demolished Yeongdo-gu district along with the Gwishin. One of those from her team who hadn’t made it back had died to that weapon.

Determined to pull herself together, Hana opened her palm as she walked across the stage toward the podium to make her public statement. She lifted the two pink sticks enough that cameras would be able to catch her brand before she popped them in her mouth and crumpled the wrappers. They caught in her dry mouth. For a moment, she struggled to chew. She kept her face happy, waving as she went, but found herself momentarily alarmed that she would choke on it.

And then saliva finally rushed in, almost too much. She swallowed quickly, almost swallowing one of the sticks of gum in the process. It made her cheeks sting, as though it was sour instead of sweetness she was tasting.

“What a day!” She said as she reached the microphone. “It was an intense stream wasn’t it folks?” Hands raised so suddenly about the room that she absurdly pictured that old American Whack-a-Mole game. She almost wished she had a giant mallet with which whack their arms with.

“So intense, I think I hit the button to end the stream without meaning. What a fool I felt when I realized I’d been talking to dead air!” The hands had gone down as she’d continued. This was the question they had for her, and now the audience laughed. “Before you think it means I’m losing my touch, rest assured it’s the only mistake I’ve made today!” Strangely, the lie itself came out easily. She should have stayed with D. Mon and Overload. She should have gone with Casino to help Druri and her crew.

She popped her gum at that moment, causing the scent to fill the air and choke her as she breathed in. Fighting back the sudden urge to vomit, she struck a pose instead, playing it up for her adoring, ignorant audience.

#I haven't even reread this #Just went looking for it today becasue I was remidned of it and couldn't find it #So who knows if it even remotely stands up to me now but it still deserves to be on my blog #so there #Bubblegum Facade #Revised Bubblegum Facade #Overwatch #OWfanfiction #D.Va #Hana Song #tfgoc #tf fanfiction

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dusky-dancing · 5 years

Text

Formal

Summary: Radiant Garden is holding it's first formal ball to celebrate its restoration, and Kairi and the other Princesses of Heart are guests of honor. The event brings about a reunion that Kairi wasn't sure she was ready for yet.

Rating: T

Genre: Romance

Length: 3788 words

Fluff warning.

The young woman reflecting in Kairi's mirror looked vastly different from any version she'd known of herself. She supposed it was what she got when she let six other princesses and three fairies dress her for her first ball.

The fairies demanded that they make the dress after the princesses decided on a design, and the narrow A-line gown fit her shape perfectly. Its length reached her ankles, and her back was covered only by lace. The sleeves fell softly off of Kairi's shoulders, showing off her collarbone. The light, breathable fabric prevented the dress from feeling fully formal, not to mention it still allowed her to leap and spin to her heart's content.

From the color it was obvious that Flora had the most fun designing the dress, for her dress was almost entirely pink. Not that Kairi complained, it was her favorite color.

Kairi wouldn't have been so self-conscious of her appearance if it weren't for the occasion: the new Radiant Garden's first ball to celebrate its restoration. The committee - Leon, Yuffie, Aerith, Cid, the Gullwings, and Tifa - they had all worked so hard to make this world the beautiful land it was before the Heartless attacked. They deserved all the recognition in the worlds, so people from each corner of the galaxy were invited. Each Princess of Heart agreed, of course, and because Kairi was technically from the world, she felt high expectations.

If anyone was going to be guests of honor at the ball, it should have been the Restoration Committee. Though it was wonderful to see the other Princesses again, the Committee members were the ones who put forth all of the effort that rebuilt Radiant Garden. All Kairi did was train. If anything, she distracted them from restoration efforts.

Still, it wasn't just the occasion that put butterflies in her stomach, but also who would be attending. Each Princess of Heart was to be presented before the court at the start of the ball, so they would each receive a partner of their choosing to escort them. Most of the Princesses' choices were obvious, and as for Kairi, she wasn't much different. The Guardians of Light, a group that Kairi was also a part of, were all attending anyways, so it wasn't too far of a stretch, right? It was a formal event, so they must've sent a formal invitation, asking him to escort her. She cringed at what it might've said.

Worst case scenario:

The honorable Princess Kairi dutifully requests that Sora, chosen wielder of the Keyblade, be her personal escort to the Radiant Garden Restoration Ball.

It would've been worse than asking him to prom. He probably laughed himself to tears at how ridiculous it sounded. Regardless, after months of training and waiting, Kairi's heart fluttered at the thought of seeing him again: his bright smile, his deep blue eyes whose gaze could lift any spirit.

"Kairi?" a voice snapped her back to reality.

She turned to see six pairs of eyes staring at her curiously. Each of the other princesses were adorned in their own beautiful, personally customized gowns. They waited together in a large powder room in the west wing of Radiant Castle, putting the final touches to their ensemble.

"I'm sorry?" Kairi replied.

They giggled. "I asked which earrings you wanted," Aurora said. She held out a small jewelry case lain with various options.

"Were you daydreaming again?" Cinderella asked.

"It's okay to be nervous, you know," Jasmine said.

Again? How often had her mind wandered in the last hour?

"Sorry," she replied, smiling bashfully, "I guess I am a little anxious."

She perused the collection of earrings and settled on a pair with dangling peach sea shells.

"That was quick. Why'd you go with those?" Alice asked.

"I may technically be from Radiant Garden, but my home and my heart will always be with my islands. I want all the worlds to know that." She smiled as she donned them. They made a surprisingly nice accent to her wardrobe.

She turned back to her company and rose from the seat of her vanity. "You all look so amazing!"

"WE look amazing," Belle corrected her, "I wish we could be there to see the look on Sora's face when he sees you."

Kairi began to blush. She was about to defend Sora when a knock came at her door. The guard posted to the hallway outside spoke, "Ladies, Princess Kairi has a visitor."

"Just a moment, and just Kairi is fine," she replied.

"We'll give you some privacy," Cinderella said, and each of the princesses exited into the adjacent dressing room.

Kairi faced the door, "Go ahead and send them in, please."

It opened, and a tall young man entered the room, his shoes tapping against the hardwood floor. His scars from the Dark World were hidden beneath a long, buttoned up dress shirt fit for royalty. Everything about him seemed princely, but his silver hair still hung loose, barely covering his aquamarine eyes. This wasn't just any visitor, this was her best friend. His gaze found her.

"Woah," he muttered.

"Riku!" She exclaimed, hugging him, "You have no idea how happy I am to see you."

"Um," he held out his arms at his side, still frozen.

"What's wrong?" She stepped back.

"Uh, nothing. I'm just afraid of ruining your..." he paused, gesturing to her whole self, "everything."

"Oh please," Kairi replied, "I'm still me. What brings you over here?"

He leaned casually against the wall. "Just checking up on you. Figured you might be nervous." He smirked at her.

Kairi twirled her fingers together. "Maybe just a little."

"Relax," he said, "you'll do great, and besides, even if you do mess up, you can always count on Sora to do something more embarrassing."

She laughed. He wasn't wrong entirely, but the thought of Sora only being a mere few halls away from her didn't help her anxiety.

"How's Sora doing?"

He folded his arms, "You'll see in a bit."

She resumed her seat, finding it more difficult to breathe when standing. "You're no help," she pouted at him.

"Just don't think too much about it. Instead of a ball, imagine it's just us hanging out back on the island."

He was right. If she took away all recent events, they were still childhood best friends. She needed to remember where they came from.

"Okay, that helped a little," she mumbled, "thank you, Riku."

He nodded. "I won't take too much of your time. See you soon." He stopped himself before leaving. "Oh and Kairi," he said, "you really do look beautiful."

"So do you," she winked.

He shook his head, laughing as he closed the door behind himself.

Later, as she waited in the hallway of the west wing, Kairi's anxiety worsened. Each of the other princesses looked so calm and collected before they presented themselves. Had they felt nervous too?

Kairi took a deep breath as the guard opened the door to the Main Hall.

And there he was.

He stood on the other side, adorned with a white long-sleeved dress shirt, the full collar extending up his neck. A golden sash draped from his left shoulder to just above his right hip, and stringed golden shoulder pads added width to his frame. Unlike his usual style, he wore blue dress pants that hugged his legs, and his calf-high white boots were actually proportional to the rest of his body. His signature crown necklace hung where a bowtie would have been.

From afar, he almost looked like a different person, but there was no mistaking that hair. She'd hoped that he wouldn't change it for the occasion. Kairi had seen him grow, both physically and emotionally, but in that moment it was more apparent than ever. One thing was certain: he wasn't the same boy that had been napping on the beach years ago.

She was sure that her heart stopped when their eyes met. Sora was never good at hiding his thoughts with expressions, but as much as she wanted to tease him for his wide eyes, she was more concerned with remaining calm and walking a straight line to him. It was only a few steps, yet it felt like miles.

"Hey, Kai," he gave that smile that he always did.

Before she could respond, he pulled her close. She melted into the embrace, dismissing the formality that she'd tried to instill within herself for the past hour after only a few seconds. Unsurprisingly, it was easy for him to have that effect. It may not be conventional, but she no longer cared. Months of separation, and a whole year before that, came pouring forth - time spent worrying about where he was, training for what would come, and wishing to return home.

"I'm glad you're okay," she muffled into his shoulder.

For once, he didn't wear gloves, and the feeling of his calloused hands directly on her skin brought a comfort she didn't think possible. She reached for his back, and a tinge of guilt stung her for not being able to return the favor against the thick fabric of his suit.

He gripped her tighter, his hair tickling her ear, "You thought I wouldn't be?"

He'd grown bold, having never hugged her so tightly before. It brought a giggle out of her. She pushed herself back and took in his full form. He was still Sora, she told herself, and always would be.

"You changed your hair."

His eyes widened slightly as he pulled at the brown spikes, "Y-you don't like it?"

"It suits you," she smiled, and her reassurance softened his face.

Their time alone was cut short when the large double doors before them opened wide. No words were needed as the two faced forwards. He extended his elbow out to her, and she slipped her hand into his arm.

It felt right.

The ballroom was already filled with enough people that the whole town might have been in attendance. She curled her fingers into his arm, grateful that she didn't have to face everyone alone.

The guard at the door announced their arrival. "Presenting Kairi, Princess of Heart hailing from Radiant Garden, and her escort, Sora, Guardian of Light."

She cringed at the formal announcement. She and Sora glanced at one another and stifled a laugh at their respective titles. Though she couldn't deny that their names sounded good together.

When they entered, a crowd of their friends moved to greet them. Kairi had the privilege of seeing Radiant Garden everyday, so she knew they weren't rushing over to greet her. Kairi wasn't the only one who missed Sora.

"Sora, lad, it's good to see you again!" Merlin shook Sora's hand aggressively, "And Kairi, you look stunning as always."

"Good to see you all too," Sora laughed.

One after another, people came to greet Sora. He really could make friends anywhere. Despite all the commotion, he'd kept his arm interlocked with Kairi's. She felt safe, wishing she could cling to him all evening. That dream was interrupted, however, when Tifa pulled him into a hug. The sting of letting go was quickly replaced with amusement at Sora's bashfulness.

Kairi scanned the room for musicians and found a string quartet stationed near the balcony doors. It had been so long since she'd taken the time to listen to music, and she grew eager to hear them play.

"Nice entrance, princess," a familiar voice spoke from behind her. Riku stood in the same attire she'd seen him in before. He'd also chosen not to drop his sarcasm for the ball, it seemed.

"Riku!" Sora shouted.

The two clasped hands and patted each other's backs.

"Who knew Sora could clean up this well," Yuffie smirked.

"It's because he can't," Riku laughed, "atleast not alone."

So Riku hadn't only visited Sora before the party; he'd helped him get ready as well? She wondered if he spilled how nervous she'd been.

"Hey!" Sora's face turned pink, earning a chuckle out of the group.

"Anyways," Sora said with an exaggerated tone, "enough about me. Congrats on completing the restoration, everyone! How does it feel to have your home back?"

"I can't quite describe it," Leon said, "it's good to have a safe home again."

"Well, this is to celebrate all of your hard work," Kairi smiled, "you all deserve a long rest."

The strings began to play, their sound bright and sweet to the ears. Short notes stuck, long ones fluttered, and the urge to dance grew. Kairi soon found herself swaying in place. Some princesses were already twirling to their hearts' delight, either alone or with their partners.

The music was pulling her in. Before her nerves stopped her, Kairi kicked off her shoes and joined them. The others were actual royalty, so they knew more about dancing than she ever could.

The violin broke into a playful fiddle, and Kairi quickened her pace to keep up with it. With every second, more people joined in.

As she turned, she caught Sora smiling at her from the sidelines. Both he and Riku clapped to the music. Her nerves returned, wondering what was going on in Sora's head. She pushed the paranoia down. They were her best friends; she'd done much more embarrassing things in front of them, so there was no need to be nervous. She ran to them and grabbed their arms.

"Come on!" she yelled.

Sora nodded with a laugh, but Riku held his position.

"I don't dance," he said.

"You do now!" Sora shouted.

He took a hold of Riku's other arm, and together he and Kairi pulled him to the center. Hand in hand, they danced in a circle. She and Sora earned a chuckle from Riku as he began to loosen up. Trusting that he wouldn't run back to the wall, they released one another and danced on their own.

She watched Sora, who hadn't needed any coercing. He raised his elbows when he spun and kicked his knees high. She matched his energy and loosened her hips. Her dress was light enough that the bottom lifted with every turn, giving her legs more freedom.

Though they danced solo, she couldn't pull her eyes away from him. He was still the same old Sora, laughing and having fun wherever he could. That time it was him who caught her staring, but it didn't stop him. His smile only brightened.

She twirled one last time as the music came to an end and found herself in his arms. She blushed. He looked down at her, just as surprised and out of breath as she was.

She didn't know if it was just her adrenaline, but her heart told her to close the gap between them and kiss him.

The temptation only made her face more flush, but she resisted. If he had seen her addition to his paopu fruit drawing, then he knew how she felt. And If he still felt the same, then he would say - or do - something. She'd made her move already, it was his turn to make his.

"Kairi," he said, maintaining their distance.

"Mmm," she hummed.

"You, uh," he paused, "you dance really well."

She giggled. It was better than nothing.

"So do you," she smiled, "where'd you learn that?"

"Oh you know," he shrugged, "you pick up alot of things while travelling."

Someone behind them cleared their throat, bringing her back to the reality of where she was. He averted his gaze and dropped his hands.

Everyone continued dancing throughout the evening, but Sora seemed to avoid getting that close to her again. He'd be talkative until music would play, and he'd look away if they caught each other's glances. It frustrated her; all he had to do was ask.

She wouldn't allow herself to be brought down, however. After all, the three of them were together again. She'd even gotten to meet some of Sora's friends from other worlds. Unsurprisingly, there were many of them, including some of the other Princesses' dates.

The party lasted longer than anyone could have expected, but the ballroom slowly emptied throughout the night. The Princesses hugged Kairi goodnight, all having long and dangerous journeys home the next day.

Sleep still felt far from Kairi, but the night had to end eventually. Soon the crowd dwindled down to only a few people. The musicians even began to pack away their instruments.

"Hey Kairi," Riku approached her, "have you seen Sora?"

"He was just-" she glanced all around the room, but couldn't spot him, "I guess I lost him too."

"Knowing him, he's probably sleeping. Could you check the balcony while I look through the castle?"

Kairi nodded and made her way outside. She found Sora leaning against the balcony rails, but he didn't seem like himself. He hunched over the railing, staring into the distance with an absentminded expression. When she approached, he barely even acknowledged her.

"Hey," she smiled and leaned beside him, "ready to call it a night?"

"Um," he looked down at his hands, "not quite yet."

The balcony doors closed behind them. Kairi turned in surprise, only to find Riku standing on the other side. He saluted with a wink and backed away into the castle. The pieces began to fall together in her head. Confused, she searched Sora's expression for answers.

Sora exhaled slowly and faced her, "I realized I was doing a pretty terrible job of being your...you know."

Her heartbeat quickened. Was he trying to say 'date'?

He continued, "But you deserve better than that, so here it goes."

Inside, the music picked back up, slower and more melodious than before.

"Kairi," he held a hand out to her, "will you...dance with me?"

She didn't know what came over her, but tears began to form in her eyes.

Taking his hand, she answered, "Of course."

Her free hand came to a rest on his shoulder, careful not to wrinkle the formal attire. He held her at her waist, the unfamiliar touch sending goosebumps to her arms. He led without further hesitation, and they swayed together against the night air. The quiet strings just beyond the door guided their rhythm.

At first, she counted her steps. She caught herself watching her own feet, nervous that she'd miss and step on him. She looked up to find him doing the same.

"Sora?" she said.

His eyes darted up to hers.

"Thank you."

"What for?" He tilted his head to the side like a puppy.

"This," she smiled, "for coming with me. I know the invitation must've been super formal and cheesy..."

He chuckled, "No, it's okay. I actually thought it was kinda cute."

"Oh," she blushed.

Her shoulders relaxed, and his hand softened against the small of her back. Before she realized it, they were dancing smoothly together. No more feet-staring, no more overthinking, she was just allowing each moment to take her wherever it pleased.

His gaze drifted to the side of her face. "I like your earrings," he smiled.

Her head perked up. In all honesty, she'd forgotten she was wearing them, and no one else had made a comment.

"I don't know what it is," he continued, "I guess they just remind me of the thalassa charm you gave me."

Of everything she'd adorned that night, he'd chosen to point out her seashell earrings, the ones that reminded her of home - their home. They'd all been fighting so hard in order to return, but she remembered that her home wasn't just on the islands.

Sora was her home too, and she'd been feeling homesick for too long. She'd wanted to wait for the right time or for him to say something, but her heart didn't want to wait another second.

She pushed herself up onto her toes and captured his lips with her own.

Time seemed to slow down. She thought her nerves would ease, but the sound of her own heartbeat soon drowned out the music. His lips, though tense with shock, quickly warmed and softened against hers. Even with her eyes closed, she could feel him forming a hint of that contagious smile. Just seeing his smile was comforting, but feeling it pressed to her own was heavenly. His hand curled further around her waist.

Slowly, she pulled away and lowered her feet flat onto the ground. He followed her down, resting his forehead against hers. Their dancing had stopped.

It wasn't until then that she fully processed what had happened.

She kissed Sora.

A moment of silence lingered in the night air, and then giggles escaped from them both. He held her hand to his chest, gently stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. Each minuscule movement sent shivers down her spine.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I couldn't wait any longer."

"Wait for what?" he clutched her hand tighter.

"For you to show me how you feel," she giggled.

"Oh," he raised an eyebrow, "You mean like this?"

He released her hand and caressed her neck before lowering his lips to hers. His kiss was unlike the last. Instead of timid and brief, he was bold and passionate. Butterflies erupted within her chest. Her empty hand clutched his collar. She didn't care if it wrinkled, she wanted him closer.

In that moment, she disregarded where they were, who might have seen them, and what would happen the next day. Even if they had to go their separate ways again, her promise would always remain true.

Wherever you go, I'm always with you.

He gave her one last gentle kiss before pulling back. "Sorry for keeping you waiting."

She knew from his somber tone that he wasn't just talking about kissing. He'd made a promise to her as well.

I'll come back to you, I promise.

She rested her head against his chest, listening to his heart beating away within. She was home, and it was all she wanted.

"It's okay."

There was no need for such formality, anyways.

#kh fanfiction #kingdom hearts #sokai #sora #kairi #Kingdom Hearts FanFic #romance #fluff #all the fluff #nothing but the fluff #dusky writing #dusky-dancing #my writing #long post #I promise CH11 of TTR is coming out soon #I'm just itching to write sokai

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