#chihiro and natsumi tbt

[not-bcring]

"Who doesn't lock the door?!" //foooorrrrr ummmmm i have no fucking idea hfdsjk literally just pick some bitches you want to bang lmao -  ✩   「 @wrinkled-sheets-and-sunlight 」   ✩  

✩   「 Meme  」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」 Ever since Natsumi came to Chihiro's aid, the two had formed an unlikely yet perfectly matched pair. One deceptively-strong in her softness, the other secretly-soft in her strength. Neither judging how their unexpected friend portrays themself, but not shying away from encouraging change if needed. Even if it's understandable why someone acts a certain way, habits aren't impossible to break. Difficult— carefully constructed walls always the worst to tear down; people reluctant to see all that work and sense of safety go to waste —but not impossible. Especially if there's someone else who believes they can.

Whether they agree or not.

Most wouldn't dare dream of suggesting anything to a member of the Yakuza. Let alone one of the heirs. Yet the timid programmer, epitome of what most mistakingly consider ❛ weak ❜, not only suggests but insists. Mostly in Natsumi's capacity for kindness. In her being the type of person who not only shows it ( however she tries to portray it in an unsavory light ) but DESERVES it.

Granting it to the other woman whenever possible, Chihiro seems to have made it her personal mission to bring much-needed affection to Natsumi's life. What started as an indebted gratitude ( sincere but stemmed from a favor ) turning into a friendship that stands upon its own legs. Daresay an... admiration that spans over more than merely strength. Now an integral part of Chihiro's day— in person or through texts, if Natsumi is spirited away by responsibilities ( although Chihiro has grown comfortable frittering unimportant thoughts and updates to her regardless ) —Natsumi is one of, if not her closest friend. Perhaps Chihiro is even the same for her.

... But that feels like wishful thinking.

As are the images dancing through Chihiro's mind as she lies on her bed, towels hastily placed beneath her ( more than necessary, Chihiro over-preparing in her panic ) to catch whatever may escape. She can't stain the bedspread when she's expecting company... Oh god, she's expecting company. What should terrify just sends a jolt through her body, Chihiro whimpering at the thought of Natsumi in her dorm for a study session. It's not uncommon for the other woman to visit, but it still feels unreal. Lately, it's been growing harder to keep her excitement appearing platonic. Naturally affectionate as Chihiro may be, she's also awkward under pressure. And there's no greater pressure than trying to suppress steadily-growing feelings for a friend. Let alone Natsumi Kuzuryu.

This is a terrible idea... but it's the only one to come to mind. Desperate times ( and she is DESPERATE ) calling for desperate measures, Chihiro prays that releasing all her pent-up yearning frustrations will help her survive hours pouring over textbooks with the most incredible girl in Hope's Peak. With plenty of time before Natsumi is supposed to arrive ( it not even crossing Chihiro's mind what may happen if she shows up early ) shirt is hiked up to offer some relief to her nervously-flushed form. Skirt is lifted as well, panties around her ankles, a timid hand between trembling thighs. Hard and dripping, her dainty dick lies on her stomach, completely ignored. Chihiro had tried to give it attention but...

It wasn't enough... It wasn't what she wanted.

Traversing all sorts of new territories right now, a glistening finger lightly prods her puckered entrance. Sucking in a breath as she barely applies pressure, Chihiro wonders if she should apply more lube. Glancing at the formerly-new now much emptier tube beside her ( a purchase she'd nearly DIED of shame when getting ), she lays her head back with a thud and shaky exhale. No, she's just stalling now. There's already enough lube dripping on her cheeks and coating her hand to fit MUCH more than her slim fingers. Taking a steadying breath, she pokes her asshole again... a bit harder this time. Shuddering, mind wanders back to Natsumi.

Would the other even want to do this? Not with her; Chihiro already knows Natsumi couldn't be interested. But if she were someone else, would Natsumi be toying... down there? Would she peg her— Or stick to fingering? This counts as fingering, doesn't it? It's as close to it as Chihiro can get. Like what girls do to each other... Breath quickening, Chihiro pushes harder, letting out a startled squeak as the tip of her finger finally penetrates. It's barely anything but it makes tears spring to her closed eyes. Biting her bottom lip, she forces back a whine, ass stinging as muscles TENSE around the new sensation.

❝ N-Natsumi... ❞ She whimpers without thinking, pleading for someone who isn't there. This is supposed to be fun, right? Hesitantly, she tries to ease her finger further in. Slick muscles attempt to welcome it, but the new sensation ( no longer painful but still... invasive ) still unnerves the poor girl. Why is this so intimidating? ❝ I—I'm scared... ❞ Chihiro breathes into the loneliness, breath hitching as she chokes back the beginning of a cry. Eyes firmly shut, a stray tear falls down her flushed cheek. Still, she tries to pleasure herself... To do what Natsumi might if she wanted her.

❝ ... I wish you were here. ❞ Chihiro mutters, shame painting her face pink as she reluctantly removes her finger. Hands resting beside her head, dick twitches pitifully in disappointed solidarity. She can't do it. She's not brave enough.

Unbeknownst to the poor programmer, the one driving her to this brink IS here— the sound of the door going unnoticed in her struggle —and there's no telling how long Natsumi has been... 「 ☆ 」

[not-bcring]

Natsumi was just passing by when she caught the commotion surrounding the timid programmer, a man who's precense was certainly not welcome with how Chihiro cowered as he stepped closer. She had been planning on ignoring it and containing on her way (fuck you, she was), but the manner of the...solicitation had the yakuza stopping in her tracks. Lips twisting into a sneer, Natsumi put herself between Chihiro and the man within the blink of an eye, the woman not much taller than Fujisaki herself as she stared the man down. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, huh? She doesn't want you, so take the hint and buzz off!" Unsurpisngly, the man just laughed at her, though he was unable to get any further taunts out as first Natsumi's shoe collided with his shin, and then her fist to his face once he was brought down to her level. With a sickening crack of the other student's nose, he reeled back, calling Natsumi a few choice words before stumbling off, to which Nat almost gave chase if it wasn't for the no doubt frightened programmer behind her. "Oh yeah?! Let's see if you're still spouting that shit when my brother gets a hold of you, asshole! He'll bust your fucking kneecaps!" With one last huff pushing the anger from her lungs, the yakuza flexed her fist with a hiss of pain as she turned to Chihiro. She was about to scold her, to tell her to toughen the fuck up and stand up for herself instead of being backed against the wall that was how you died in her world, but the pure....well, pureness surrounding the smaller girl had her physically biting her tongue to stop the flood of what would have no doubt been hurtful words. "What a fucking prick, right? He'll think twice about pulling a stunt like that again, especially after my brother gets a hold of him." As for just who her brother was, the resemblance was uncanny. She was the spitting image of Fuyuhiko, minus the freckles along with the addition of an inch or two of height something Fuyu was still mad about, even after all these years. Still flexing her fist, the skin now slowly morphing from an angry red to a dim black and blue, Natsumi carefully wiped the blood from the other students nose onto her skirt as she looked Chihiro over. "...You okay, bambina?" -  ✩   「 @the-ultimate-muses​ 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」 Back bumps against the wall, breath catching with a strained yelp at the contact. Glancing behind her at the unrelenting stone, sweat beads upon her brow and makes her hands clammy as she looks back at the unrelenting MAN in front of her. Both walls may as well be cut from the same cloth, the others unwanted advances crashing down upon her like an avalanche. Chest crushed by the weight of her nerves, she can barely manage to breathe, let alone speak. Not that it makes much of a difference. All her weak refusals and pleas to be left alone falling on deaf ears; the way her trembling body shrinks away observed by uncaring eyes.

Reddened face radiates shame, hands clasped in front of her chest and cowered posture unbefitting someone completely clothed. But with the way the towering man leers at her, she feels as if he's somehow stripped her bare without her knowledge. Hungrily gazing upon every soft inch of her body, every sense and secret not meant for him. Thankfully, that is NOT the case... and Chihiro fervently prays it'll stay that way; terrified of how angry the other may be if he learned that—

Yelping at the sudden intrusion, wide eyes watch as the other girl courageously places herself in harm's way. Although, it seems like a far more dangerous situation for the hulking man. Squeaking at the first show of violence, Chihiro's eyes close on instinct, tears stinging in their corners as they tightly shut. Biting her bottom lip to stifle her whimpers, she flinches at every pained sound that fills the tense air; deserved as they all may be. It still causes her stomach to churn, mind offering suggestions of the bloody sight she's attempting to spare herself.

That crack hardly sounded pleasant.

Thankfully, the confrontation lasts only a moment, Chihiro tentatively opening her eyes when she hears heavy footsteps retreating. Blinking to try and clear her vision, glossy gaze looks up at Natsumi, still awash with fear. Only now it's for the scolding she knows she's going to receive. A well-deserved verbal lashing for causing Natsumi problems. Shaking and choking back frightened hitches of breath, she does her best not to cry, an apology already on the tip of her tongue— ... but instead of being insulted as she should be, her assailant is instead.

Wiping at her eyes, surprise slips away into a smile, relief radiating in her heavy exhale and the light laughter lacing her grateful words, ❝ Y-Yes... Yes, I'm alright! Thank you. ❞ Tears still beading in her eyes and on long lashes, they catch the light with a newfound sparkle. No longer swallowed by the shadow of her harasser, the small girl seems to shine alongside the light of the sun. Not simply bathed in it, but adding to it. Pure demeanor evident in her honest words, ❝ It was really brave of you to help me... and you ended it all so quickly. You're so strong! ❞

Impressed gaze flits down to the stain now adorning Natsumi's skirt, cheer turned to concern as she exclaims, ❝ You're hurt! ❞ Without thinking, small hands dart out to hold onto Natsumi's injured one, only for it to be yanked away before she can have a better look. Chihiro's hands retreat in tandem, clasped over her chest as the small girl starts to stammer a teary-eyed apology. Wanting Natsumi to know that she didn't intend to— but before she can finish the thought, a wounded hand is slowly offered back to her. Honey gaze flits from the hand back to Natsumi's face, wanting to know the other is sure... When Natsumi doesn't change her mind, delicate hands reach for the other girl's.

Holding onto Natsumi's hand, touch is light, thumb gingerly brushing against the side of it. Careful not to touch the angrily-bruised skin, brows knit as Chihiro studies the coloration. ❝ I'm sorry... This is all my fault. ❞ She mutters, wiping her eyes with the heel of one hand, her other still holding Natsumi's. Looking up at the other, Chihiro hastily adds in a plea, ❝ I-I can help though! If we go to my dorm, I can put something on your hand to help. It'll work wonders on the bruising, I promise... ❞ No need to dwell on why Chihiro would be so certain of that. 「 ☆ 」