Story: Akane's Quest

 

Ranma Saotome's luck straddles good and bad like a fine balancing act. One moment, he’s effortlessly dodging a flying kick from an angry fiancée, and the next, he’s knee-deep in yet another supernatural disaster. This time, it had been Nabiki—or rather, what had been inside her. The succubus had played them perfectly, weaving a trap of tension and unspoken desires, twisting their emotions until the line between what was real and what was manipulated blurred. By the time they realized Nabiki wasn’t acting of her own free will, the thing inside her had nearly won, using her voice, her touch, and every buried thought it could drag out of them to fuel its magic. It had tried to make them surrender to it—to each other—until there was nothing left to fight with. But somehow, against the pull of dark enchantments and their own confusion, they had torn free, breaking the spell and exorcising the demon before it could consume them.

Now, Ranma sat in the ruins of the succubus’s lair, his back against what was left of an overturned chair, with Akane curled up in his lap. The fight had left them drained, the remnants of the succubus’s magic still clinging to their skin like an unwanted aftertaste. Akane’s head rested against his shoulder, her breath warm and unsteady, her body too exhausted to protest their closeness. He didn’t have the energy to move either—not yet. Nearby, Nabiki lay sprawled across the floor, unconscious but breathing, her usual calculating expression replaced by the peaceful emptiness of deep sleep. The sight made something twist in Ranma’s chest. She had been the succubus’s puppet, but how much of her had been aware of what was happening? How much would she remember? He exhaled, tightening his arms around Akane without thinking. The fight was over, but the aftershocks remained, their hearts still unsteady from the battle they had almost lost—not just against the succubus, but against themselves.

Some might call his current situation beyond lucky. After all, he'd just had sex with Nabiki right in front of Akane, and instead of her trying to kill the two of them, she'd cleaned off his dick with her enormous enchanted boobs, then curled up in his lap. Her tomboy body holding onto his. There were boys at school who might kill to be where he was right now.

Though for Ranma himself? He could barely think straight enough to process what had just happened, let alone appreciate the situation the way some of the idiots at Furinkan might. Sure, Akane was curled up against him, her breath warm against his collarbone, her weight resting completely on him in a way she never would if she were fully awake. But the lingering haze of magic, the raw, tangled emotions still settling in his chest—it made everything feel too fragile, too uncertain. This hadn’t been some romantic accident or dumb misunderstanding; they’d been pushed to the edge, forced to confront feelings neither of them were ready to name, all because some monster thought it could twist them into submission.

His arms tightened around her instinctively, but his mind kept circling back to Nabiki. She lay just a few feet away, her usual sharp smirk absent, her body still and quiet in a way that unsettled him more than he wanted to admit. What had it felt like, being used like that? Had she been trapped in her own body, watching as the succubus pulled the strings? Or worse—had it let her feel everything, let her understand exactly what it had done while she was powerless to stop it? He swallowed, shaking the thought away. Questions like that would have to wait. Right now, all that mattered was making sure they were all okay. Or at least, as okay as they could be after something like this.

"How was she?" Akane asked a question that must never be answered. Ranma froze on the spot more assuredly than if he'd been tossed in a freezer overnight. Akane stirred, sensing his tension, lifting her head to look him in the eyes. "Ranma, I'm serious. It wasn't your fault, and it wasn't hers either. I'm not holding this against either of you, but... I have to know. Did it really feel that good?"

The internal answers were all bad. He was pretty sure he'd have to lie about it to spare her feelings, but the way she was right now she'd see through the lie in the blink of an eye. That is to say, he wouldn't be able to retain eye contact with her even if there was equipment strapped to his face to make him look right at her.

The other side of the problem was that it had felt pretty good. Nabiki's really hot. All three of the Tendo sisters were, in their own way. Kasumi was the pretty housewife type, all soft smiles and quiet grace, the kind of beauty that made you feel warm just being near her. Nabiki, on the other hand, was the naughty bitch who could and would tease you into submission, her sharp wit as dangerous as her calculating smirks. And Akane...?

She was the tough chick of the group. Just as pretty as her sisters, but unlike them, she didn’t hide behind a mask of sweetness or sarcasm. She wore her emotions on her sleeve, raw and unfiltered, and that gave her an intensity, a passion that was intoxicating and impossible to ignore. She could be stubborn, short-tempered, and way too quick to swing a fist, but when she cared—when she really let herself care—it was like standing too close to a bonfire. Ranma had thought she was pretty for a long, long time, but that didn’t matter too much to him. Looks weren’t what made his heart race when she was close. It was the fire in her eyes, the way she challenged him, the way she never backed down even when she was scared. It was the way, right now, exhausted and vulnerable, she still clung to him like he was something solid in a world that had just tried to break them.

Ranma had known Akane was pretty since the day they met. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that it did matter—it mattered too much. If she were just another cute girl, like Shampoo or Ukyo, maybe he could have dealt with it like he did with them—dumb jokes, cocky grins, and the usual half-serious flirting that didn’t mean anything. But Akane? She wasn’t just another cute girl. She was his fiancée, like it or not, and that meant every single interaction between them carried way more weight than he knew how to handle.

So, he did what he always did when something felt too big, too real—he played dumb, he teased her, he acted like it didn’t matter. Because if he let himself stop and really think about how pretty she was, how much she got to him, then what? Then he’d have to admit that maybe all those idiots at school weren’t completely wrong for looking at her the way they did. That maybe, just maybe, he looked at her that way too. And that kind of thinking? That led to places he wasn’t sure he was ready to go. So instead, he let himself get distracted by her temper, her ridiculous cooking, and the way she always seemed one second away from hitting him—because those things were safe. Safer than thinking about how good she felt in his arms right now, or how, for the first time in forever, she wasn’t pulling away.

And there was absolutely nothing, nothing at all, about their current situation, that he could think of as 'safe'. That's why he didn't answer her question. Instead, he kissed her. Right on the mouth.

Blame it on the succubus. That’s right, it’s the succubus to blame for this. Even though they had defeated it already, even though its influence shouldn’t linger anymore, even though he’d wanted to do this for a really, <i>really</i> long time.

At first, she was surprised. He could feel the way her body tensed, the way her breath hitched against his lips. But then—slowly, hesitantly—she started to kiss him back. Her fingers curled against his chest, gripping his shirt like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to push him away or pull him closer. And Ranma? His heart was hammering so hard he was sure she could feel it. But it had to be the succubus, right? That was the only explanation. Because if it wasn’t… if this was just them… then he’d have to admit that he wanted this. That he had always wanted this.

Of course, Ranma didn’t notice the discrepancy in his thinking. His brain was a bit too frazzled right now to focus on logic or reason. Not when there was the more important matter of kissing the girl he’d fallen in love with.

=====

Akane Tendo was entering panic mode now. Ranma had kissed her. Out of nowhere! And worse—she was kissing him back! Her heart wanted to leap from her chest and frolic down the street, doing cartwheels and cheering like some lovesick idiot, but she—oooh~—she couldn’t stop herself! He was warm, solid, and so very there, and for once, he wasn’t teasing or dodging or making excuses. He was just… kissing her. And it felt good. Too good.

She still wanted an answer to her question—dammit, Ranma!—but there was this small, sneaky voice in her head whispering that maybe she didn’t need one. That this was a fine opportunity to take what she wanted. To just blame the succubus for everything, for all the heat rushing through her, for the way her fingers curled into his shirt, for the tiny, shivery sigh she let out as he deepened the kiss. Blame the magic. Blame the monster. Have fun. Get away with it…

But then, the sheer force of the rest of her personality came crashing down like a hammer, offering its two cents on this whole big mess. What the hell are you doing?! Kissing Ranma? KISSING RANMA?! Her jackass of a fiancé, who spent most of his time driving her insane? The same one who never gave her a straight answer about anything? The same one who’d probably start stammering and making excuses the second this was over?! Oh no. No no no. If she was going to kiss him—really kiss him—then she needed to know exactly what it meant. Because if he so much as tried to pretend this didn’t happen afterward, she was going to deck him so hard he’d wake up next Tuesday!

Alas, that voice was cruelly silenced when she lowered her hips, felt Ranma going inside her, and the sound of victory bells began to echo in her head. Oooh, that felt good, that felt good, that felt really really good~

She pushed back and looked him in the eyes while they rutted. Some ancient instinct inside her was waking up. Like this, she should move her body like this, and - And his hands were roaming around her hips, his eyes locked onto hers, and she didn't need to hear him say it. She knew, deep in her heart, that they were doing this because they wanted to. Not because of some external force, but because they were into each other, committed to each other, and that thing with Nabiki was entirely down to the external influences that she wanted to blame.

"You- You're ignoring my breasts," Akane said. "Why?"

He gulped and blushed. Then, his trembling hands reached up to her breasts, and Akane felt her entire body convulse around his dick. A featherlight touch had done this much to her.

"For the record?" Ranma whispered in her ear. "If Nabiki was a nine, you're an easy ten."

Oh no! Don't say that! She - She was going to - Ohhhhh~ Akane could feel herself drooling. Her body was trying to do about three different things at once, each of which promised its own route to ultimate pleasure! She settled for grabbing Ranma head and kissing him again, deeper, more passionately this time, like she was trying to suck his soul out through her mouth.

Then she heard a quiet voice. "I get him Monday, Wednesday and Friday, you get him the rest of the week," Nabiki said. "The alternative is that I tell daddy what happened here today."

As another orgasm ripped through her body, Akane felt like that was a perfectly worthwhile deal. At this point, it felt almost cruel letting Nabiki experience this and then depriving her of it forever.

Or maybe that's just the succubus magic talking?