Story: Tsundere Thighs

 

This is not how Akane had intended to start her morning off, but she wasn't complaining. This might be hard to believe, but she'd fallen for Ranma a long time back. Probably around the time of the Golden Pair fight. Hearing him declare that she was his fiance - then him putting his own body on the line to keep her safe...? Yeah, that's the kind of thing that gets a girl's motor running, even if she pretends otherwise.

Thing was, she was pretty sure he didn't feel that way about her. Probably. It was hard to tell. She couldn't get a read on Ranma. He was so immature sometimes, like a little bratty boy.  Then other times he's mature and strong and cute and charming and - and!

"Soooo uncute!"

And he fucked like a demon. Akane had no context for sex, before all this, but... She sure did like what he was doing to her. The insults didn't really feel like insults anymore. Not when he was absolutely dominating her thicc, thicc booty the way that he was.

Pushing her down, fucking her from behind while she lay on top of Shampoo, making out with her arch rival for Ranma's affections and thrusting her hips back up into him so hard that she was pretty sure the surrounding buildings would be looking out for lightning and rain. Sorry everyone, that's not thunder, that's just the sound of her big thicc cheeks getting clapped by a super thick, super hunky boy! While making out with their pet, their pet, their pet, their thicc, kinda dumb stupid bitch of a pet.

At some level she knew. She understood. This wasn't love. This wasn't affection. Ranma was only rutting her because of a stupid spell that was making them act this way. Still, though. Still though. Still, still, still though! It felt good, it felt good it felt, good, good, good!

"Moan for me, tomboy!" Ranma grunted and smacked her ass! She ought to punt him through the roof for that, but not before letting him do it again another hundred times or so. "That's right, moan for the man among men!"

To her own annoyance, that made her moan harder into Shampoo's mouth. Oooh, that lack of maturity is the thing she hated the most - no, wait, it was the duality of him. Sometimes he really was so fucking mature it made her heart go pitter-patter, and other times he'd be the most petty, bratty, arrogant - 

Fuuuuck, but he could back it up! That was the other annoying thing, sometimes he could fight gods and other times he'd get knocked silly by a stray kettle. He'd save her. She'd save him. They hated each other, they fought all the time, like cat and dog and she was absolutely, one hundred percent happiest when he was somewhere nearby.

He pulled out without ceremony, muttered "Tsk, fucking an uncute tomboy is hard work. I'm hungry, hope Kasumi's got breakfast ready..."

Akane pulled away from Shampoo's mouth causing a large 'plop' to echo through the room. "You call that a good hard shag?" she taunted him, though her eyes were glued to his glutes. Akane bit her bottom lip and arched her back, her thicc booty bitch of a body already craving more of his big hung dick.

Then her stomach growled, and she realised how hungry she was for some actual food. So she climbed off Shampoo, reached for her clothes and - Urgh, whatever. The way her body was morphing, the way things were going she wouldn't be wearing it for terribly long, most likely.

Shampoo didn't bother dressing either. Instead, she padded after Akane on all fours like a cat. Indeed. The most tsundere of animals.

"Shampoo only following for food," she said, while rubbing her scent up against Akane's thighs. "No any other reason."

Akane risked a glimpse back, and watched as Shampoo's posterior grew a bit meatier. The urge to smack that hot Chinese booty was mighty indeed, but somehow - don't ask her how - she managed to resist it and went downstairs to find... Nabiki spelunking into Kasumi's posterior, and Ranma laying claim to Nabiki's pussy.

"I thought you said fucking me was hungry work," Akane grumbled, taking her seat while Shampoo curled up in her lap.

"It is," Ranma replied right away. "But Nabiki here is my booty bitch, so when I see something like this I gotta <i>stop me please I'm not like this</I>."

Akane blinked rapidly. She hadn't been looking at Ranma while he'd said that part. But when she did look back, he was balls deep inside Nabiki, making her moan and making Akane jealous. The situation was ridiculous. Obscene, even. Still, as she watched Ranma rut her sister... It was making her wet. Really wet. Kinda hungry too.

Fortunately she didn't have to wait too long for food to arrive. Everyone sat down around the table, but - hold on a second. Where were their fathers? It wasn't exactly like Akane wanted to see him right about now given... everything, but all the same where was he right now?

"Oh, what's this?" Kasumi tutted, picking up a letter from the middle of the table. She pulled the envelope open and read it with an oddly condescending gaze, as if she was actually fed up with this bullshit, but also in a way that made it clear she kinda cared too. "Typical! It seems our houseguest, Mister Happosai, has seen fit to drag our fathers on another training journey."

"Wait, the old man cleared out when all this is going on?" Nabiki asked.

"Who asked you?" Ranma jeered at her, which prompted Akane to jab him with her elbow.

"Just because she's your booty bitch doesn't give you cause to talk to her like that," Akane jeered right back, which resulted in the sort of staring contest you just know was inches off them making out.

"Nabiki might be a boy crazed hussy," Kasumi said, with an odd undertone of affection. "But she's also quite insightful. Happosai, of all people, must have noticed what was happening. Why would he keep his distance?"

The plot, much like their thighs, has thickened. Akane scowled and came to a hard decision. Really hard. Obviously, they weren't going to get anywhere like this. Right now, they were eating breakfast while waiting for someone to say something else. Anything else, that might set them off. All it would take is the wrong thing and Ranma would be pounding her on the table, pounding her, or Shampoo, or Kasumi, or maybe the girls would get into a sloppy thicc makeout contest...?

That thought made her annoyingly, frustratingly wet. Thus, she was going to do something that she didn't want to have to do. She really, really did not want to have to do. It was taking every inch of her willpower. Every bit of strength she had in her. Reserves she did not know she had, for now she had to do the single most difficult thing she'd ever done in her life.

"I love you."

At which point, she deflated like a balloon. Actually, next to the others she seemed relatively tiny. Petite. Kinda lightheaded as well. Ranma, who she had been looking at, was sitting there with a piece of food half way to his mouth.

Aha! It worked! It was exhausting, but she'd done it, somehow! She'd pushed through the tsundere impulse! Chalk that up as a victory for the uncute tomboy, and all she had to do was tell the boy she liked, who she wasn't sure liked her back, that she loved him.

It's often been noted that Akane's name means 'red'. It's a kind of deep red, usually used in a dye. Right there and then, Akane suddenly became the living epitome of her name.

Thing was, she had to fight down the natural impulse. Upon realising what she'd done - as well as the flood of realisation, epiphany of <i><b>what they had done</i></B>. Oh gosh. Oh gosh! Oh gosh, gosh, gosh! Every instinct in her was screaming to leave, to lash out at Ranma, to push him away, but instead, if she did that, she'd revert to <i>that</i> and become just like - just like the rest of them!

So she had to bite it down. Go against her instincts. Let Ranma turn slowly, to look at her, knowing full well he was about to say something stupid, maybe even stupider than usual, and to know she'd have to not smack him silly for saying it.

What was really not helping was the fact that she was looking over his body and really liking what she was seeing! Control yourself, girl! Control yourself! You want to get an idea of what's going on. You want to be in control over the situation, Akane1 

Which, paradoxically, meant that her options were rather less limited than she might enjoy.