Title:
The Author Finally Gets Around to That Damn Prompts Table
Author:
Lazaefair
Fandom: Samurai Champloo
Pairing: Mugen/Yatsuha
Table
prompt: Disgust
Warnings: Sex, explicit language, inappropriate
cultural references, girl power
Grunt, grunt, snort, snort. Yatsuha looked up at the thing enthusiastically fucking away atop her. She squeezed her cunt muscles together a little more, was rewarded by a strangled moan, and rolled her eyes. God, men were pathetic. Give them a little slot B for their tab A and they're utterly helpless for...sadly, about five minutes, if she was lucky. A two-bit dive like this wasn't the sort of place men went to for romantic, flower-drenched fantasies.
The customer grunted some more, spasmed, and lay panting, getting his greasy hair all over her face. Yatsuha prayed for patience. You finish one mission in a brothel, spectacularly successful, and do they thank you for breaking up the biggest counterfeiting ring in Japan? No, they turn around and put you right on another case and oh look, it means going undercover in a brothel. Again. This time around, her erstwhile employers weren't the sort who believed in clean clothing or clean bedding. Clean anything. She was going to get horrible diseases from this case, she just knew it.
The man-pig had rolled off and was getting dressed, ignoring her the same way she was ignoring him. Skinny, bony guy, still growing into his gangly limbs, and noisily spending his week's earnings on women and probably booze afterwards. Not much different from Mugen, really.
Except she could've kicked this little snot's ass to Edo and back. With Mugen, she didn't have a chance in a straight-on fight. Which was why she didn't intend to fight him the next time they met. At least, not vertically.