The Phase in Between
Dear readers,
Thank you very, very much for your amazing responses towards Libidinous. You guys are truly awesome! ( °▽° ) Every single comment, review, follow, kudos and message made me so vastly happy, you have no idea! And, I can't wait to hear your next reactions, because this fic is going to be quite a ride, mind you!
Now, to begin, let me just say that we are gonna move a little back in time with the next couple of chapters (the dark, short Prologue was a not-so-distant glimpse into the future), meaning that you can take the following segment as the first real starting point from which all the rest of the story unfolds. Let's have some context first, shall we? Context is the key! Plus, I believe that you all deserve to know at least the basic idea and what to expect, as this will not be simply a tragic drama. Not at all, actually. What I found to be honestly the most difficult part about this fanfic stems primarily from the fact that I wanted to create a believable scenario in the TMM universe, wherein Kishigo could be considered an ultimate canon divergence and, at the same time, their interaction would be somewhat believable. As you will be able to see in this following chapter, the main premise is really, REALLY simple. But sometimes the simplest things can produce the best sort of thoughts, eh? And, since I, of course, cannot write just fluff/smut with no plotline, the further we go, the more complex and thick the story will get. I don't intend to drag things out this time. Instead, I wanna plunge right in and build the drama as we go. Also, I would really like to say that I will try and keep the chapters only around 4000-5000 words max, since these are easier to write, edit and READ! But, you know me, so no promises!
The music I used for this part was The Cramps 'Goo Goo Muck.'
AnimeRoxx - Thank you for your comment! I am so glad to hear that you are interested in what is going to happen next. I hope that the following couple of chapters will not disappoint you!
DrDark7 - Thank you for your comment! I am so happy to see that you really enjoyed the first chapter and I hope that you will like the rest of the story just as much!
Sorakitten - Thank you for your comment! It makes me super happy to see that you enjoyed the first chapter. Happy New Year to you too!
James Birdsong - Thank you for your comment! I am really glad that you enjoyed the note and I can't wait to hear about your reactions towards the future updates as well!
Kishlover985 - Thank you for your comment! It makes me really happy to see that you enjoy my writing so much! I will do my best not to disappoint you with the rest of the story!
As always, please enjoy and review!
I do not own Tokyo Mew Mew
2,5 months ago
The wooden desk from under them heavily creaked.
It wasn't that the solid three inches thick top wouldn't last an occasional weight on its shoulders, or that the four metal legs would buckle down akin to the knees a high schooler might get from a simple date invitation.
No, it was something else.
From the mere sound of it, one could easily gather that the muffled hubbub of noises that was filling her bedroom could clearly indicate a hot urgent flare-up of passion; or something similarly loud, satisfying and sweaty.
One could not be more wrong.
Well, partially wrong, since, for Masaya, this proclamation held true.
As far as Ichigo Momomiya was concerned, however, it was an entire different story.
Glancing at the small cracks in her ceiling, Ichigo briefly wondered when was the last time she had felt anything even remotely sexual towards her boyfriend, and whether or not it was before or after they had started having sex.
Was it because they had been together for quite some time now?
That, of course, sounded as the most logical explanation that her mind could immediately supply. Notwithstanding, the difficulty with this conclusion was that time was actually completely unrelated to Masaya's performance. It wasn't good at the beginning and nothing much seemed to have changed since then; if anything, it got only worse.
Could the reason then be that, as his girlfriend, Ichigo was the only person allowed to see what Masaya Aoyama looked like when he was stripped naked and in the process of fucking someone into a desk? Yes, that was also highly likely, especially considering the fact that the sexual phantasy that many around her had dreamed of was, in reality, not so cool, as everyone had probably imagined. There appeared to be something extremely paradoxical about the notion that even if Masaya was scoring number one on every girl's list she knew, Ichigo felt remorseful about the whole sex thing with him to quite some extent, wishing nothing else but to finish it as soon as possible.
Remorseful and indignant, to be more precise.
This became all the more prevalent with every upcoming creak and groan that had made Ichigo more and more agitated; the urge within her to stop growing stronger with each passing second, her body yearning for the desk to finally break under their weight, so that this terrible attempt at sex would be over at last.
Alas, that did not seem to be the case. However much she had prayed for it, it had never seemed to be the case, which had basically left her with only one option: to endure it, for better or worse. Plus, Ichigo could be a lot of things; a superhero, a klutz, an endless dreamer, a tardy slacker but not a quitter. Never a quitter.
Sprawled on her back, with her skirt bunched up and her legs wide open, she still tried her hardest to really get her mind into it despite everything.
But it was hard. So damn hard, in fact, that somewhere along the way, she started to deem it almost unfeasible and eventually sighed and let go.
It was not particularly due to Aoyama's lack of trying; of that Ichigo was fairly certain. Yet, there was something about his movements; something incredibly off-putting and hollow in regards to the way how he had been pounding into her, which had unavoidably transformed their potentially steamy session into a dull, monotonous set of predefined thrusts every time they had decided to do it. Ichigo bit her cheek in irritation. In a way, she felt like she was fucking a piece of wood, instead of a living person; which was not entirely the effect she was hoping to seek.
But why?
She was not infatuated with Masaya any less than before. And she loved him.
Always.
Before and after sex.
It was just the phase in between that was somewhat lagging behind.
And the strangest thing about it all was that, until today, Ichigo could not quite extrapolate why exactly.
Regardless of how many times they had done it, there was absolutely nothing to provide her with any relevant clues; nothing that could show her any direction she should follow to remedy her malady. She thought it needed practice at first. You know, to get the gist of where to touch; where to stroke; where to pinch. But as the months went on, Ichigo had reached the realization that the lack of time and experience with each other's bodies was not the main issue here. It must have been something else; which is why she had started to ponder the complexities of her situation some more and with even greater importance. Masaya was a constant in her life; someone whom she treasured a lot; valued even more; and loved with everything there was to her. But in spite of all that, she would be a liar if she had said that she had enjoyed sex with him a single one time. She had de facto come to hate having sex with him altogether; doing it solely in favor of sustaining their relationship, because that was what she was supposed to do.
She was his girlfriend.
It was only expected of her; a required social custom; a biological imperative, if you will; yet, no matter how much she had tried, she had never quite managed to silence the inner voice in her body that screamed in protest that something was wrong whenever she felt compelled to initiate anything intimate with Masaya.
Was it because they almost always refrained from doing any foreplay?
That was, surely, likewise a thought worth further consideration; Masaya had very limited repertoire when it came to the tricks he was using and, by now, Ichigo was positive that she could name each and every one of them off the top of her head. Sadly, oral did not make it onto the list and when Ichigo thought of Masaya's fingering techniques, she inwardly shuddered with dread rather than sheer excitement. What might have thus once started as surprising and thrilling had inadvertently turned bland and disinteresting on a greater scale of things within a matter of a few seconds.
Not that Masaya had any idea.
Sometimes, Ichigo ruminated on what would happen if she had finally rallied her courage and openly asked her boyfriend for what she wanted him to do to her; to vocalize her desire; to share with him her deepest wishes; to make him conscious of the fact that the sex they had been currently having felt nothing but lacking.
But she did not say anything. Ever.
Partially because she did not want to risk an argument or malign Masaya in any way; partially because she was not ready to face the picture of his crestfallen face the moment she would so maliciously destroy his confidence; and partly also because Ichigo was acquainted with men enough to know that a male's penis was an extension of his ego, and that to mock it would prove detrimental to their relationship in the end. Besides, what if Masaya was not even to blame? How could she be so sure that the problem was not on her side? That she was not the one who was frigid, unresponsive and whatnot? And with all the stress she had had at work as of lately, it was very likely that her relentless state of trepidation might have seeped into her sex life too for that matter.
Except no; she refused to believe that saving the planet from a bunch of aliens would deprive her of her orgasms; if anything, that should have fueled her body with more adrenaline and kept her going. Carpe diem, was it not? Yes. It must have been something else.
But what?
The longer Ichigo had thought about it, the more perplexing it all sounded to her ears.
She knew that she had a habit of fretting too much, but she couldn't help it. Some things were simply not meant to be. And, as more and more questions began to plague her worried mind, the curious Mew Mew had decided to take the matters in her own hands and started to fill in the gaps in her knowledge with solid evidence. She started to read. A lot. And watch videos too, whenever a brief chance to educate herself further in this manner had presented itself. A part of her still believed that it was all in her head and that this feeling of unfulfillment was normal, but the more videos Ichigo had seen, fraught with all these other girls exclaiming and gasping in ecstasy, the more convinced she had become that something in her life was definitely missing.
Really, Ichigo? You are a Mew Mew. You fight Chimera animas and Cyniclons on weekly basis and you make a big deal out of sex?
More often than not, Ichigo felt stupid and ashamed of her own thoughts; nonetheless, she somehow found it harder and harder to shake off the niggling feeling that the inner voice in her head, which went off every time Masaya's hands touched her a little too intimately, was right. And, as the days rolled on, her belief that something was truly wrong only increased.
"How about we switch positions?" she heard Masaya's soft words cut through her musings and she suddenly remembered that they were still entangled with each other on her desk.
'As if that did the trick!' Ichigo mentally growled but put on a happy face when she felt him slide out of her.
One quick glimpse at her clock suggested that they had been at it for five minutes straight and, from the expectant look in his eyes, Ichigo could clearly tell that he was good to go for another five at the minimum.
"Oh, s-sure," she smiled at him politely and Masaya returned her smile, totally ignorant of her inner turmoil.
"How about here?" he gestured to the chair next to him and beckoned to Ichigo with his hand to follow him.
She nodded in understanding and skidded down her desk to come closer to him and straddle his lap. When she lowered herself on top of him, she heard him gasp as he reclined his head back, enjoying what she could only assume was another moment of pure pleasure.
'This is so unfair,' Ichigo thought bitterly, the feeling of frustration and greed twisting her gut, 'Unfair and unbelievably ridiculous.'
If it wasn't for all of her pent-up vexation, she was sure that she would have laughed, had it not been so tragic.
What an irony!
In the eyes of everyone, Ichigo had presumably the best guy in the universe, who was caring, doting and everyone loved him and adored him. But now, when she once again had him closer to her than anybody else ever could, Ichigo wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. Except for being completely detached from his body, and as far away from it as possible.
And switching positions certainly did not change anything about that train of thinking in the least bit.
The thing was it was not a problem of position and Ichigo knew it. Because, with Masaya, she did not manage to come in any position and since he was not really big on giving her head and his fingers always felt like someone was pricking her with compasses, Ichigo hardly thought that she was anywhere close to understanding what climax was anytime soon.
Unless she did it herself, of course.
For some odd reason, Ichigo had no trouble getting off on her own, which had only deepened her anxiety whether she should consult this problem with Masaya directly. Ichigo was aware that this was definitely something she should rather confront than bottle up, but, like always, her fear of the potential outcome of their conversation had chased out her initial courage in a flash.
What if he gets offended? What if he breaks up with me? Will anything change? And what if we end up having no sex for good?
'Well, that would be far more his loss than yours, Ichigo,' her conscience rebuked sternly.
Touché.
That's right. To Ichigo's dismay, Masaya came every time. A simple fact that puzzled and aggravated her to no end.
Could the issue truly be in her, then? She read in these books of hers that it was normal that some girls did not experience orgasms during sex at all in their lifetime. Was she really one of the very few?
"I-Ichigo," he panted breathlessly.
Oh great, was it the time for her to start moaning already?
Another reason why Masaya could not suspect that there was anything amiss with his routine performance stemmed from the simple notion that Ichigo had never let him know that he had failed. With no brilliant solution in store of how to overcome her trials and tribulations, and far too reluctant to make her boyfriend feel like any less of a man, the selfless Mew Mew had hence decided to fake her elation at the expanse of masking her own displeasure for the time being instead. To her own mind, Ichigo had justified it as being considerate. Or plainly stupid; for she felt like a total imposter whenever she was screaming his name the second she saw him nearing his climax. An act, which was, in all actuality, absurd and somewhat ironic, since by not making him feel bad, she had made herself feel even worse.
But such was life. Somehow or other, it all felt just like the icing on the goddamn cake.
Ichigo trained her light, hazel eyes on Masaya, observing his facial expression carefully in order to synchronize her moans with his thrusts and she was just about to start moaning, when her breath hitched in her throat.
And not in the good, exciting way.
With his back facing the window, Masaya was completely oblivious to their surroundings, not that he would sense anything in his present state of distraction either way. Yet, Ichigo, who was still moving on top of him in a fairly regular rhythm, alert and wide awake, had a pretty open and far too unobstructed view not to notice that out on her terrace, floating in the air, cross-legged and with his chin propped in an upturned palm, sat the green haired alien, watching her curiously, the curl of amusement at the corner of his lips.
Rather dazed, Ichigo's first reaction to such an unusual occurrence was that her needy thoughts had eventually driven her past the brink of insanity. Because that was what it was. Insanity. Mingled with a sheer tinge of desperation if she was capable to conjure up even Kisshu in her mind during her sex with Masaya. By all accounts, he could not be there, could he?
But when Ichigo shut her eyes, sure that the mental image of the Cyniclon was nothing but a mere hallucination, and then chanced a look back up at the place where he had been previously hovering, he was not only still there but also looking straight back at her with rapt attention. And once their eyes locked, Ichigo gasped and involuntarily twitched at the psychotic, unnaturally bright glimmer of gold that shone in his irises. The incomprehensible mania that he had oriented towards her felt a little too tangible to be imaginary, and Ichigo was struck by an intense feeling of panic, just as a sudden rush of heat flushed all over her face and through her belly, when the reality check had gradually started to sink in and cause her whole body to shiver with awareness.
Her cheeks burned bright and hot and she knew she must have been sporting a lovely blush.
"Oh, God," she gasped in mute shock, as Kisshu unabashedly continued to watch their display with fair interest twinkling in his gaze.
"I know, I won't last much longer, Ichigo," Masaya's voice brought her back into the room, making her eyes momentarily dart back to him.
Oh, God!
She was having sex with her boyfriend. And Kisshu was on her terrace, watching her, stalking her.
What the hell?!
The realization had hit her like a train, and if Masaya's hands were not keeping her in place, Ichigo was certain that she would keel over. But as her boyfriend's eye lids closed in utter concentration of what he probably perceived as a valiant effort to postpone his orgasm for his girlfriend's sake, Ichigo once again transfixed her eyes back on Kisshu, whose gaze never left hers.
A cold prickle ran up the back of her neck and the Mew Mew swallowed audibly, feeling more naked and exposed to his eye than she had ever been in her entire life.
He was observing her, studying her every expression, cataloging and filing out information, every time she went up and down. And, quite perturbed, Ichigo could only marvel at the incredible bizarreness of the whole incident. For one, he didn't look angry or particularly embarrassed by her actions; which was weird, at least to Ichigo's mind, and also extremely scandalizing in some way. Any normal person would probably find such a situation disturbing, perverse even, witnessing something so raw and so personal unfolding directly in front of them, but Kisshu had never been exactly normal to begin with and Ichigo would have been foolish if she had thought that anything had altered in that respect. In fact, it seemed to her that he didn't even blink, staring at her so intently as though he was afraid of missing the slightest change in her expression, the smallest reaction. And, soon, she realized that, apart from her repetitive movement of her pelvis, she could not move. Hell, she could not even look away, not with the way how his scrutinizing eyes lingered on her skin, making her breaths come in short, choked pants.
There was something indefinably compelling about his penetrating stare.
How his vibrant golden gaze seared her with its consistent mischief, while a small smirk continued to lace his lips, causing Ichigo to shudder with a mysterious phenomenon that had slowly begun to resonate within her body, an almost irresistible call. It was almost as if he could somehow see right through her, directly to the core of her soul, as she continued to wriggle and squirm underneath his burning eyes.
And something about that intense look that he was directing towards her immensely thrilled her.
To the point that, for the first time in her life, she felt excited during her period of love making with her boyfriend; a mere fact which her body gradually started manifesting quite openly.
He seemed to notice the change in her features because his smirk slightly broadened and he let his teeth bare at the new scene unraveling bit by bit in front of him.
Whatever he was doing was working, because Ichigo suddenly began to feel everything she was until then only reading about and seeing the other girls experience in the videos. The need, the sweat, the excitement, suddenly it was all there. It was like a hazy dream. Her face was flushed and damp and everything else faded into the background except for her base, primitive act for fulfillment. Her woman's gasps soon shifted into heart-felt moans, as she began clutching at Masaya's shoulders tighter and meeting his thrusts head-on; and, this time, she did not have to fake it. No, this time, her soft whimpers were real, as real as the hard cries that quickly followed, while all the sensations began zinging through her every cell with unstoppable ferocious toxicity. The thread of arousal that had curled low in her belly had made her scream with absolute delight, whenever a new wave of pleasure washed over her, making Ichigo's senses grow dimmer and dimmer until her entire perception zeroed in on the pair of golden eyes that had kept guiding her, never once relinquishing their control over her body. The loud final cry that tore from her chest went unrestrained. Her back, all of a sudden, arched and her vision went blurred, as the continuous spasms and muscle contractions swept over her one last time and her peak ultimately hit her. Coming to a grounding halt, Ichigo collapsed onto Masaya's heaving chest, panting rapidly.
What the-?
To this moment, she had not the faintest bit of idea what exactly had transpired a few mere seconds ago, but her eyes remained shut in pure pleasure, relishing in the aftermath of her climax just a little longer. And, when the initial tide of euphoria began to eventually dispel, what was left in its place was a new feeling of warm contentment along with unprecedented quiet satisfaction pulsing throughout her veins. She felt extraordinary, beside herself with joy, until Masaya's mild voice sliced through the pleasant silence around her and real panic kicked in.
"That was incredible, Ichigo."
Her eyes peeled frantically open, finding herself back face to face with her boyfriend's loving expression full of adoration, but it was not his eyes that Ichigo was searching for. No, the pair of eyes she wanted to see were golden, intense, shimmering with dark and golden specks in them, like that of a feline, and when she found them, she saw his broad smirk stretch into a wide grin before the air around him started to distort and shiver, and he subsequently disappeared.
What has just happened?
Wiping away the small beads of perspiration from her forehead, Ichigo blinked at Masaya for a couple more times, still rather out of touch with the events around her, but the only clarity she had received was a sneaky suspicion that this was not the first time, nor the last time, that she felt unsettled by that obnoxious fanged alien grin.
How did he even know where she lived? Should she feel alarmed? What a stalker! Literally stalking her! And creeping on her too! He was impossible. And perverted beyond! Should she feel angry that he had caught her in the throes of her orgasm?! Ashamed?! Both?!
But no matter how much Ichigo strived to be furious with Kisshu and his obvious intrusion of her privacy, she could not get rid of the feeling that he was the one responsible, indirectly or not, for the little tremors that had been still coursing through her body up till now.
Or maybe it was just the endorphins that continued to play with her hormone levels speaking, for, as her books had not failed to inform her, it was largely difficult for a girl's brain to feel depressed right after experiencing a shockwave of orgasm.