Finding the Four-Eyed Samurai...WITH YOU? Bonus Track
[A/N]: Watashi wa...hentai desu. Here is the lemon/lime...orange...melon gift thing that was promised! Though, maybe it is more introspective than sexy. I have never written a lemon before and this has made me extremely self conscious. Read at your own risk. GOSH GOLLY SERIOUSLY, IF YOU KNOW ME IN REAL LIFE SOMEHOW, BACK THE FUCK OUT NOW BECAUSE I'LL NEVER LOOK YOU IN THE EYE AGAIN. *screaming*
Cover art done by me ^^ Maybe one day, I'll digitally color it.
Important Note: This is canonically set in the universe of Finding the Four-Eyed Samurai...WITH YOU? specifically during Chapter 42 (which was just updated) and makes references to the entire fic. So if you haven't read it, I suggest doing so (though the earliest chapters need HEAVY revising)
Another Important Note: This is NOT what I imagine their actual first time to be like. (That will be saved for another time...heh..ahem).These are merely Mugen and Fuu's fantasies about what could've happened in Chapter 40. So what they expect from the other is incorrect, biased and also lacking heavily in foreplay.
Past tense is current events. Present tense italicized is the fantasy.
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Samurai Champloo, Fuu, Mugen, Jin, Momo etc etc etc. If I did, there would be so much Fuugen hentai, it's not even a good thing.
Chapter 42 B-Side: Sensual Symmetry
"Well, lately, I've been thinkin' a lot of things…"
Those had been the words Mugen said to her in the hot spring, only a few short hours ago.
As Fuu fiddled with the fabric of her blanket, Mugen's declaration replayed over and over, until she finally accepted the fact that sleep would never reach her.
In the other futon nearby, the young noblewoman Tsuru gently snored, arms wrapped around the furry neck of her dog, Otachi.
Quietly, Fuu relinquished the blankets from her body, and crept from the inn room, taking careful measures in tiptoeing out. After she slipped into her zori, Fuu darted from the ryokan inn, and off into the darkness of the night, all the while listening for the sounds of any others that may have followed. To her luck, she seemed to be all alone outside. A surge of adrenaline coursed through her body with every step she took further and further into the woodlands at the borders of Arima. How daring of her, to do something so bold like this, running off in the middle of the night, to sate her wanton desires… But the last time she'd found release, was the week back in Kyoto, when she'd been an undercover maiko for the investigation. If she had to wait any longer for some privacy, she might actually lose her mind.
Fuu ducked through the shadows, tripping along stones, and nearly getting whacked in the face by far too many low hanging branches, until she'd made it to a little forest grove, close enough to the ryokan so she could find her way back, far enough that surely no one would find her here.
After some searching, and also after nearly psyching herself out of this, Fuu found a comfortable enough looking tree illuminated only by the sparse streams of moonlight prodding through the leaves. She steadied her breaths, listening keenly to the sounds of the night around her. Crickets serenaded loudly from the tall grass. The springs of Arima sloshed and bubbled in the distance. All else was silent...and the background noise played in her favor, to conceal any embarrassing sounds she might make during the act. Fuu leaned back, shivering hands resting on top of her knees.
Now was her chance. She could finally allow herself to get lost in fantasies.
Fuu tried not to imagine sweet things with Mugen. Instead, she tried to imagine how she thought he'd really be, how he'd want it to be. Surely it would be rough, and fast, and crazy, she had reasoned with herself. A man like Mugen—untrained, lawless, careless, so wild—knew nothing about self-control, about how one should treat a tender girl like her, with not a notch of experience on her belt.
And the thought of disappointing him...scared her far more than maybe it should have.
After all, he'd stolen her first kiss, her second, and her third. If he had made a move, she'd have allowed him to steal more.
And yet...
If it were her choice, for their first time together, she'd be below him, ankles locked behind his back, clinging to him as he rocked into her. But she did not want to expect such a thing. Mugen was Mugen. And he was the man she loved, with all the pleasure and pain that came with him. That was all the truth she knew.
Tonight's fantasy carries her back to that stable in the downpour, where his one hand rests on her hip, the other on her wrist.
"You drive me fuckin' crazy, woman."
Mugen pushes her to the nearest wall and snatches up the little blue obijme ribbon on her waist. Easily, he undoes it and tosses it aside. Even when she yelps, he spins her around, hand finding her red obi. A clamor of swears leave his mouth, as he tugs and yanks harshly on the butterfly knot, until finally, finally, he's got the infuriating little thing undone.
"Is this what you wanted? You wanted ta' push me this damn far?" he asks. Already, he's unwound the red trail of fabric from the curve of her back.
"...Y-yes."
"You're a damn tease."
It falls to the wooden planks of the floor with a silken shudder.
She wants to give him everything, wants him to feel everything she has offered to him. Both of her hips fall to the mercy of his rough grip, his hands—calloused by so many years of wielding a blade—squeeze down so hard, he'll leave dark bruises wherever his fingers press. But Fuu doesn't mind it. These are the only bruises she's ever desired, a proof that he's touched her, claimed her as his. He shallowly gyrates his hips into her backside, his well-endowed arousal pulsating relentlessly against her.
Earlier tonight, as they'd knelt in the onsen, Fuu felt it against her: Mugen's arousal. Just the thought of it now, even hours afterwards, made a breath catch in her throat. To feel something so erotic...so honest, feeling that pressed into the space between her thighs, had been as wonderful as much as it been scary. Finally, she felt firsthand, the effect she had on him. It only fueled the believability of this fantasy.
Mugen's mouth finds her neck, where he slides his hot tongue across the svelte curve, then nips onto her shoulder with sharp fangs. "I want your hair down." he whispers. The prickles of his stubble tickle her bare skin, inciting shivers and gooseflesh.
Fuu reached up into her hair, pulling out the hairpins that clattered one by one onto the hard soil, bouncing off of protruding roots. Mugen had told her he preferred long hair. She feverishly tugged and yanked at her hair to undo her bun, simulating it's his tawny hands doing it, until chocolate strands fell upon her shoulders, draping down her back. Once, she tugged on her locks too hard, hard enough that she made herself wince, before returning her hands back down to her chest.
"That's better."
Already, he cards through the layers of her kimono. Teasingly, his hands slide further up, pawing for her breasts, as he parts the front folds of her pink kimono and white juban. With not a shard of hesitance, he takes one in each hand, and gives a playful squeeze.
Compared to him, her hands were so small. Yet still, she palmed her breast through her kimono, just as roughly as she pictured he would knead them. She knew Mugen didn't really know the size of her breasts. Deep down, a part of her still feared his reaction. If he were to really feel her and see her… Would he truly cherish her? Appreciate her? Would she be enough for him? Could she pleasure him properly?
For a moment, he stops, and she hears the uncanny sound of metal: the unsheathing of a blade. Yet, strangely the sound coming from behind her back doesn't scare her in the slightest. He's unsheathed his red tanto, and uses it to slice right through the bindings on her chest, spilling her breasts free from their confines.
She'd returned that tanto to him...back in Kanazawa, after so long of holding onto it, in the year they were separated. Long ago, Fuu made a promise to herself, that she'd never allow him to find out that, after they'd parted ways, she used to cradle the sheathed tanto to her chest as she slept. It'd been the only remnant she had left of him...after...after she thought they'd never meet again.
"Fuck, you've been hiding these from me all this time, girlie? If I'd have known that...I'd be pinchin' em in my hands an' teeth for the whole damn trip."
His words are so crudely honest in her imagination...yet no less of a turn on. For him to like them, to touch them with such fascination, is enough to have liquid seeping down her inner thighs. Calloused thumbs rub hard on each pert bud, making her shivering knees knock against one another. She very nearly falls as he squeezes on them between thumb and finger, tugging gleefully to the point of pain. One of his tattooed arms catches her, holds her still. A guttural chuckle rises from his mouth. It's all so embarrassing and intoxicating. She squirms, and presses back hard against his clothed arousal that never ceases in grinding against her. His hasty fingers start the crawl down, parting her thighs, causing her hands to shoot for the wall in front of her, for balance, to hold on. It's so sweet. So good. She wants more. And more. And more!
Finally, Fuu used a hand to hike up her kimono, past her two knees. Tentatively, she dipped her fingers below her waist, slipping through the pleats of floral fabric, until she reached the tender spot, aching for contact.
Mugen's hands trail down her body, caressing her stomach, her navel, stopping in its descent, only when he reaches her soaked folds, burning so hot she might catch fire, if he doesn't quell it. His thumb grazes her sweet spot, assaulting her with the harshest of flicks, until all she can do is mewl out half-words, her head falling back on his shoulder.
This time, she patted gentle circles across the bud sitting atop her slit, easing herself back into this dream. In time with the fantasy, Fuu leaned against the solid tree trunk, trying to trick her mind into believing...the wood on her back was as warm as he would be behind her.
He slips in two fingers right away. No mercy at all. It's unapologetic, and almost painful in its desperation. Each tip prods for entry, despite how tight she is, digging in to the knuckle and stretching her slit as far as her body allows. When he curls them inside her, she nearly buckles again.
"M-Mugen!"
"Tight little chick, ain't ya…"
She hears the smirk on his lips.
"I've never-"
He stops her halfway. "I know."
Yes, he really did know, didn't he. Mugen found out she was still a virgin in Gifu...when he'd found her locked away in a brothel. Though, he probably didn't know she'd hoped to save her virginity for the right time—for the right man. But whenever she thought of who this man would one day be, she'd only ever imagined him. Just like now...
"If I'd a' known you were so eager for me, maybe I'd have quit goin' to brothels."
Her body stiffens at the comment.
Fuu's ministrations on herself stopped the exact moment she imagined the words. The thought of the women he'd been with before, nearly ruined this carefully crafted fantasy. Quickly, she shook away the thought, before it destroyed her make-believe world and the building of her arousal as well. She could never be like the women he was with before. And though he didn't know...she couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy.
His one hand presses down on her lower back, bending her over, so her palms land flat on the wall in front of her. Mugen unceremoniously parts her thighs. The wood feels cold on her cheek. It's so uncomfortable...
If this was all real, she would want him to face her for their first time, not take her from behind so forcefully like this. There was no gentleness about it. No slow pace. But she didn't want to expect things that might not happen, such sweet things...such faraway things…
The apprehension in this moment has her heart close to bursting. The head of his length teases along her, prodding for entry, then dipping away. Each time he assaults her opening, it elicits a moan from her, louder than the time before. The sound seems to have made him twitch there, pressing hard against her engorged bud, and torturing her all the more. Mugen slides it across all of her, until he's coated it generously with her wetness, until he seems satisfied with the work. He leans down by her ear, nibbling on the little ruby earring, and then slides his teeth along her earlobe. A satisfied growl falls from his mouth.
As she traced her folds in time with her daydreaming, Fuu gasped aloud. Mugen had bit her ear once, many, many months ago in Fukui...when he'd pretended to be her boyfriend to stave off the eyes of the samurai. Even now, she could imagine the sharp twinge of pain. All this time...perhaps all this time he truly had felt something for her.
"Ain't no goin' back after this…" Mugen tells her.
"I know…"
"I ain't gonna stop, even if you scream for me to." he warns darkly, as if he plans to scare her.
"I want it." she says. "I want you."
The grip on her hips tighten.
He thrusts in.
She plunged a finger inside. Her slender fingers weren't nearly thick or long enough. So she could only imagine what the pain would be like, for him to claim her virginity, to fill her completely, how it would make her wince and gasp and cry out. Even so, she wanted so desperately to experience it, to experience it all. With him. Only with him.
Fuu chokes on her own saliva. Nails claw at the wall in front of her, and dig deep scratches in the wood.
"So goddamn tight, Fuu." he grunts out. "Relax, would ya!"
But how can she possibly? Her heart beats louder than the thunder outside the stable.
Every thrust forward, his voice falls into short, animalistic grunts, until Fuu realizes that he is muttering out her name, in between lewd comments about her body, and crass swears not even the worst of sailors dared to utter. His pace and rhythm is entirely erratic, bringing her so close to bliss, then taking it all away. But knowing he's feeling pleasure from her body, losing himself to her, blooms a confidence in her that she never felt before. Though, when she's nearly at her wits end, he slows his pace, his jerks into her hitting deeper than before.
"...You know…" He thrusts in, hard.
"...how long…" He pulls out so agonizingly slowly, that it causes her to let out a small whimper.
"...I've wanted this?"
And then he's thrust back in, even harder, so much so, her breasts sway obscenely at the sharp movement, until his hands leave her hips to grope them again.
"...No." she whispers, but oh, she yearns to know.
"Too long, girlie. Too goddamn long."
She's falling, and rising all at once, pressure building so high, she cannot even form a response to that. But it makes her so happy, she might cry. And such a thing is so pathetic and weird...but Mugen somehow has this way of always making her feel like a mess, the jerk that he is.
She slipped in another finger, the hot slickness more than allowing her to adjust to accommodate it. And then her other hand moved to stimulate the bundle of nerves just above. Fuu drank in the bliss of it all.
But it just wasn't enough. Something just wasn't right.
At the angle he has her at, she's helpless, and stuck. Even when she cranes her neck to see over her shoulder, she cannot see him behind her as he rocks his body into her, and pleasures her. More than anything, she wants to see him.
"Mugen… Please… Please-!" She doesn't mean to beg, yet pleads escape her.
"What do you want, Fuu? Want me to go harder?"
He shifts the angle, and thrusts again, reaches so far up inside her, she grasps for the walls again, fingernails digging into the crevices in the wood deeply enough, her nailpolish chips away at the edges into little flakes of pink.
"I...I want to see you. And kiss you."
She hears a low grunt behind her, as if the request annoys him, and pulls out, all too quickly, eliciting the loudest moan from her as she feels her body strain to keep him in. In a flash, he flips her around to face him, lifts her up by the thighs and presses his fingers into the soft flesh. He snaps back in. The movement is so unexpected, so intense, she lurches forward, and bites down onto his shoulder, until she swears she's drawn blood. The pleasure of it is so ridiculous, that her whole body quakes.
Fuu thrusted a third finger inside, though it barely fit, and bit down hard on the side of her clenching fist to contain the cries pouring from her mouth, louder and longer each time. Yet still, the sounds spill through, carrying off into the treeline. A part of her wished the noises could reach him, just like earlier that same night, in the hot spring...when he'd knelt before her and had almost taken her fourth kiss.
Finally, she sees him, how sweat and rain coats his face, causing locks of black hair to stick to his temples and cheekbones. He's still clothed, haori and shirt, and shorts just barely hanging off his narrow hips; didn't even waste a second to take his clothes off before he took her virginity. One of his arms, ringed in blue ink has rested to the left of her head, bracing their bodies against the wall.
Suddenly, she remembered...the real night they spent in the barn. Before they'd slept beside one another, she had asked him to tell her the story of his tattoos when they could be alone again. Even now, she still didn't know.
Gently, her hand reaches to the side of her face, grasping onto his arm. At the touch of her fingers, he stops altogether in his relentless thrusting. She takes hold of it, and turns her head, bringing his wrist closer to her mouth. She flutters her eyes closed, peppering kisses on the teal rings marking up his arm. He grunts something unintelligible under his breath, and tugs his hand away from her, his movement into her set back to an almost brutal pace.
Tears sprang to her eyes. In reality, Fuu knew already, Mugen would never like such intimacy. But that doesn't matter. All that mattered to her now, was making him understand. She loved him. It was as simple as that.
Fuu wonders if the action upset him. But then…
To her surprise, his fingers cradle her jaw, forcing her eyes to meet his. He stares at her, and even though he's still thrusting her into the wall, even though the grip on her chin and the underside of her thigh is painfully tight...he's staring at her with a look she's seen so often before.
Mugen's darkening eyes, stormy and wild, don't look scary at all. There's a fire in them that sends a warmth coursing throughout her whole body, settling in the core of her chest. But he doesn't let her contemplate this for long. His mouth finds her, tongue slipping past her teeth, caressing hers so forcefully it makes her dizzy. Another tear slips free from her eye. Even though he acts so rough, and says such harsh things, Fuu knows already that only she can make him gentler, that he'll always try to hold back for her, at least a little.
He's wonderful.
"Well, I've...I've been thinking about a lot of things too, so..."
Those had been the words Fuu admitted to him in the hallway, only a few short hours ago.
As Mugen stared up at the dark ceiling of the ryokan, Fuu's admittance repeated in his mind again and again, until he realized that sleep would never reach him.
Against the wall, Giri had fallen asleep, mouth open and cradling his katana by his shoulder.
Mugen hopped to his feet. Slipping into his geta, he leisurely made way down the halls and out of the inn, strolling to the deep forest beyond Arima. It had become a routine at some point or another, slipping off into the night while Fuu slept, hiding his shame in the shadows. Easily, he made way along the rough terrain, taking care to not step on any branches or brambles that made loud enough noises for some guard of the onsen town to hear. Once, an owl screeched overhead, making his spine go rigid at the passing thought that it had been Fuu, following after him and whining about him sneaking off in the dead of night.
Eventually, he found a tree that would suffice to stand against, as he carried about in his familiar nightly ritual. It'd been a few days now, since he'd found release. Finally, he could lose himself in fantasies. He braced his forearm to the bark, and looked down between him and the trunk. His clothed erection stuck out proudly and painfully.
Mugen tried not to imagine rough things with Fuu. He tried to imagine how delicately he'd take it with her, how she'd want it to be. Fuu probably didn't know it, but he'd never been with a virgin before. A girl like Fuu—soft, inexperienced, prudish, so innocent—knew little about sex, about how he'd been with other women. Anything he did normally, would probably scare her away…
And the thought of seeing fear in her eyes, especially during an act like that, just didn't sit well with him.
After all, she trusted him to be around her, even after he'd stolen three kisses from her.
She shouldn't have trusted him, with how much he had to hold back from stealing more.
After all...
If it were his choice, for the first time, he'd have her pinned to the floor or ground, whichever, hands braced on each side of her head. But he did not want to expect such a thing with her. Fuu was Fuu. And she was the only girl who had him even contemplate such ridiculous things, like proper etiquette on how to handle a virgin. That was the only truth he'd allow himself to admit.
Tonight's fantasy throws him back to the stable in the downpour, her hand bunched around the fabric of his red haori.
"Mugen…" she shivers in her wet kimono. "Should we…" She looks at the wall. "Um…" and then the floorboards. "Wh-Where?"
He tugs on her wrist again, a little harder, bringing her deeper into the barn.
"Just c'mere."
He seats himself on a bed of hay, swinging both legs on, and kicking his geta to the floor. His hand, still clutched onto her wrist, pulls the girl right into his lap. Squeaking at first, she lets free a giggle, as her thighs squeeze into each side of his hips. She squirms in his lap, pressing down all the more on the right places. It feel so good that it aches. But she must realize how good she makes him feel, since she tentatively rocks her hips back and forth on him.
Mugen cupped himself through his shorts, hissing at the contact through tightly gritted teeth. Already, he was so goddamn hard that it had grown close to painful.
"Let me do the work." she whispers.
And who is he to stop her. She's new to all this. So he lets her initiate, let's her do whatever she pleases. He can wait. He's waited this long already, after all. Three damn years now, if he's honest. Not that she'll ever know how long he's even momentarily contemplated her touch, and the feel of her mouth, and what it would be like to have her in his arms. She pulls off his haori and then slips both hands under the hems of the cross hatched top, taking far too sweet of a time removing it over his head. When she finally gets it off, she shyly stares down.
"Your turn." he tells her, reaching out.
He wants to be the one to tug the knots of her obi free, but the moment he raises his hands up to do so, Fuu slaps them away. Gritting his teeth, he just lets them rest at her thighs. They're so silky smooth; he wants them wrapped around his head, or his waist. Didn't matter. Wherever he can bring her pleasure. If he can make her feel good...that's all he wants.
Killing a man was a rush. But having a woman moaning below him had nearly matched that rush. Pleasuring Fuu though...would definitely top anything else in his life. The thought of her moaning and writhing to every little touch he administered thrilled him like nothing else could anymore.
Biting down on her lip, her eyes flicker down to the front of her kimono. He expects her to hide, to want to shield her face in her hands. But instead, there's a fiery bravery that makes him swallow a comment, as her hands fall to the cloth, easing free the folds. His eyes grow bigger. Throwing her obijime and the obi to the side, the kimono parts down the middle… But her breasts...her breasts are still covered by those stupidly tight bindings.
He'd always told her...he was a guy who liked big hooters on a chick. Then why the fuck is it, that the same girl he called flat chested and a wooden plank, had his damn curiosities unsated? How long had he wondered now… Too long. Even to this day, he'd never unveiled the secret.
How badly he wants to squeeze and feel, and lick, but Fuu stills sits atop him, stopping him from touching. Upon every inch of his body, her uncertain fingers shake and fumble along. And if he's honest, it's a hell of a turn on, knowing he's the only man she's dared to touch in such a way. Fuu gasps every time he tenses, though always resumes. Each time, she grows just a little bolder...pressing a little harder.
Earlier, this same night...he felt her hands press onto his chest, and his abdominals. It'd been different than all the times she'd bandaged him, yet still so very much the same: the same tenderness… Like that time in Fukui, when he fought the samurai without a sword, and she traced his scars on his torso. Knowing the sensation of her touch firsthand, only made this fantasy so much more real now,
He watches as Fuu traces his tattoos.
Suddenly, he remembered their actual night in the barn, after Giri and Tsuru stole the moment from them. He remembered the way she palmed the rings on his wrists, the way she asked how he'd gotten them...and how she wanted to hear the story only when they can be alone together. Even now, he looked forward to that moment, whether it would end up like his fantasy or not. Probably not. Maybe the moment would never come.
He stroked himself two more times through his shorts, knowing he was probably leaking all over the fabric. But he wasn't in no mood to rush tonight. He'd been pent up all week, and now he planned to take his sweet time ratcheting up the fantasy.
Daring as she is, she rakes her nails down the muscles of his defined arbs, stopping just at the waistband of his shorts. Through the little skylight prodding through the tiny holes in the barn roof, he sees her eyes alight with interest and curiosity, at the massive tent laid before her. He smirks; she'll be impressed for sure. Carefully, she tugs on the drawstring of his shorts, so teasingly slowly, he thinks it might not ever come loose. When he is freed from his confines, springing to life, hard as steel, and twitching with excitement, Fuu stares down, mouth falling open.
Finally, Mugen pulled his length from his shorts, exposing it to the warm Spring night. It pulsated in his hands. Gripping it, he stroked slowly, ever so slowly.
"So big…" Fuu whispers in wonder. "I don't know how it'll fit…"
The tips of her fingers trace the hard, hot skin, running along each of the protruding veins. She's so eager to please, and more than anything, he just wants to touch her, guide her along, but he restrains himself for the time being. When she grabs him, her little hand barely fitting all the way around, he twitches. With a sweet giggle, she swirls the bead that forms at the tip with her thumb. From base to tip, Fuu pumps him slowly, and tightly enough that she can without hurting him, enough that it has him fisting the haypile below, until the straw snaps in his grip.
"Why did you make me wait so long?" she asks with a little pout, fingers still sliding.
He didn't know why. He must be insane. Mugen removed his hand and spat upon his fingers, coating the calloused palm with saliva.
She releases him from her grip, playfully poking at it, until it bobs back up again, begging for the return of her ministrations. The little bitch is torturing him. Teasing him. Just as she always has. One more time, she strokes his whole length and then rises on her knees, shimmying higher up onto his waist, hovering just over the reddened head.
"Were you worried what Jin would think of us?"
The Fuu of his fantasy had his chest feeling like it might shatter. Immediately, Mugen quit pleasuring himself, the sudden sinking feeling in his gut, nearly causing him to wither. He didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to think about Jin. Or Fuu saying Jin's name. Not now.
"Don't… Don't say his name. Not during this."
Fuu leans up on her knees, still precariously holding him in her hands as she teeters up and down, rubbing it all along her moist opening. Already, he feels that sweet heat of hers pouring over the tip, as she allows him to prod her slit. Her fluids have slipped all down her thighs. Whenever the lightning shines, he sees her eyes again. Those brown eyes, glimmering eyes...
"...Ready?" she asks shyly.
"Are you?" he smirks.
His spit-slick palm rested upon the tip of his length, so ready to sink down, yet hesitates. He'd found out in Gifu that she was a virgin: a fact he was so damn glad for...but not even for his own guilty desire. A girl like her, a sweet girl, deserved a man who could be there for her, take care of her—not take her virginity and duck out. If she'd have lost it to some fucker who abandoned her, or worse, forcefully took it from her, he'd have found him and killed the guy, himself. Slowly.
She drops down on him hard.
"Ah!" she cries out.
All of the women of his past were experienced, perhaps even more experienced than him. So, he could only imagine how Fuu would feel on him, squeezing and contracting. How hot, and tight and wet she'd be. He stroked himself, tightly, so tight, and then stopped, gripping onto himself in his fist, to maintain some semblance of control. Thoughts of Fuu always made him lose his composure.
His hands find her hips to still her movements, and even to stop himself from snapping up into her tight inner walls, so tight he's losing his mind. She feels so good on him, fits so snugly, he gasps for air that he cannot for the life of him find.
As he tried to take in a breath, it felt like he was drowning again, just like the night the ship exploded, and his body was thrown from the deck. That very same morning, she found him...cried for him, cared for him.
"Why'd ya-!" he chokes on a gasp.
"...I didn't want to wait anymore."
She's always been so goddamn tough, thinking she can take on anything at all. Even still, he can see the tears welling in her eyes, and damn it all, he loves that he's the one to take her virginity, and yet hates himself for it all the same.
He slowed his strokes, and tried to throw out that unsettling image. The thought of her crying because of him, made him even more sick than the thought of Jin did.
"You dumb broad..."
He reaches one hand up, drifts up from her hip, his knuckle, gently brushing away one of the tears.
He remembered doing that, just once before, after she left her Obaasan behind in that village in Ise. He remembered cradling her cheeks, and wiping away the tears with his thumbs, the look of confusion in her eyes, and also of seeing his own reflection there, in those pools of brown. Back then, he'd looked utterly terrified. At some point, Fuu made him go weak. …But maybe she made him strong.
Finally she shifts, and the sensation steals yet another breath from him. She's slippery from the blood and her desire, desire for him, and he just wants to slam into that sweet molten heat so badly. But he waits and leans onto his hands, head rolling back onto his shoulders, eyes rolling to the ceiling of the barn.
Mugen ran the divots of his hand faster along his hard length, his saliva making for a smooth slide.
Sweat and rain shimmer across the pale pallor or her skin. Every time she bounces on him, flicking her hips to find the places that make her feel best, she tries and fails to contain the moans spilling freely into the barn. Gods above. She's practically purring. He loves that she uses him for her pleasure. It's all he wants, to make her feel as good as she makes him feel. If he can hear those moans for the rest of his life, it'd be worth it all, worth living for, worth dying for, worth getting Jin to hate him…
But then he thought of the things it would not be worth. Hurting her. Ruining her. Disappointing her. Again, he cast out the thought, before it had an effect on his arousal.
Something wasn't right. It just wasn't enough.
"Lemme touch ya… and kiss ya."
Her slick heat clenches around him again, as she teasingly rolls her hips.
"Mm...I told you I want to do the work."
Fuck that. Maybe he'd lay back lazily with courtesans in brothels. But not with Fuu. He's gonna show her just how much he's wanted this, and how long he's waited. His hands snake back around her waist, as he sits up fully, still having her seated in his lap. He thrusts up suddenly, watching as her clothed breasts bounce a little, and her mouth part to let free a yelp. The bindings are so damn tight on her, but he grabs onto them, tugs and pries, until finally, even though the bandages still sit on her chest, her breasts start to slip out through the creases.
He could only imagine, based on how they felt in his hand once, that time he'd squeezed in the brothel in Gifu...and how they felt pressed against his arm as she slept beside him. His mind hazed, as he conjured up an enticing image of what they could be like. Mugen didn't know what color they'd be. But he thought of the pesky kimono that always shielded them from his hungry eyes.
Perky mounds spill out before him, leaving Mugen in awe. They're the perfect size for his hands. The little buds of her breasts are a sweet petal pink, as pink as that damn kimono of hers. The chill of the rain on her skin pebbles them, and that sight alone somehow, makes him grow even harder inside her.
Fuu squeaks in his arms the moment he takes one into his mouth, lavishing the tip with the caress of his wet tongue, until she's keening out incomprehensible words. He swirls and laps, and switches his attention to the other. When she's panting, he nips until he tears a gasp from her throat. And when he plays with both, swirling his thumb on that sensitive bud, she becomes a mess of sounds in his arms, until she's whimpering out syllables that sound awfully like the formation of his name.
Memories of the moans he'd heard pouring from her in Kyoto, as he nipped at her neck and chest, bridged his fantasy with reality. Mugen had wanted to leave darker marks with his mouth, mark her so much that any man brave enough to come near her, would think she belonged to someone else already. For a fleeting second, Mugen liked the thought...of Fuu belonging to him. But he threw it away before he got too carried away. This was a fantasy, after all. Nothing more than an impossibility. A too close impossibility. And…
He's never belonged to anyone, or to anything. Not to Mukuro's shitty gang. Not to the Ryukyus, where the natives all feared him. Not to Japan, where he'll forever be a lowly outcast from the bottom rung of society. But shit. It's the first time he feels like he belongs to something, belongs in her arms, belongs deep inside her. Belongs only to Fuu. The thought makes his heart pound like it might shatter, but makes his veins course with adrenaline, and his muscles tense with strength and resolve.
She's pleading in his arms now, pleading how much she doesn't want him to stop, how long she's wanted this. All her words are like begs, and she buries her face in her hands, perhaps because she's embarrassed. She's goddamn cute like that, but he wants to see her. When he releases her from his mouth with a shameless pop, he grabs her hands, peeling them from her face, so their eyes can meet. Those damn eyes. Shining with pleasure and trust and...
They'd haunted him many a night, back when he thought he'd never look into those brown eyes again… Sometimes, he couldn't even sleep, it made him so sick. But he promised himself long ago, that he'd never let her know any of that. He'd never let her know how completely lost and without purpose, he'd felt, when he'd watched her walk away from him, for what he feared would be forever.
He doesn't care anymore. He pulls her in closer, just as his hips roll deliciously upward, making her squeak against her mouth again. He kisses her again and again, kisses her so damn much he's feeling fucking dizzy from it.
She's goddamn beautiful.
He's getting close but not quite there yet. His strokes had increased in speed, so fast he felt the burn of friction.
She's getting close, but not quite there yet. The shallow thrusts of her fingers didn't reach deep enough.
She lets him pull her away from the wall, pushing her down onto the staw. Her hands fly to his clothes, tugging relentlessly. Through the darkened desperation in her eyes, he suddenly realizes what she wants, and rolls his haori from his shoulders and his stitched shirt over his head, tossing them to the floor.
He flips her on her back on the haypile, just as he's wanted to do, pulling the kimono entirely from her body. And she sees that even though her breasts are exposed, he wants the bindings off, all of it, so he can feel her skin against his. She reaches behind her, and starts to unwind them.
They're both entirely exposed… Except one thing.
Tonight, she found out…
Tonight he told her…
He never took off the magatama necklace she'd gotten him. And if they were amidst an act of passion, he wouldn't let her take it off, and she wouldn't want to. It had become a part of him, branded to him, the same as his tattoos. Fuu had become a part of him...a part of him he could never let go of, could never escape.
She's waited for this moment...finally… Her hands interlocked behind his head, her legs behind his waist. Her whole body tightens, as he plunges into her, to the very hilt. It's desperate and painful, and passionate. Every time he rocks down into her, her hips rise to meet him, thrust for thrust.
"Mugen…I need you to know."
"Fuu…"
This time though he no longer grunts her name into her shoulder. He's staring into her eyes.
Her lips part, "I lov-"
His mouth lands on her, silencing her, taking in the sweet taste of honey and nectar. He can't hear her say that. He just can't. It makes his heart feel like it's gonna fall out. None of this is real at all. Yet still, he needs the fantasy. He needs her. And it's sickening, and doesn't make any sense. And he should stop this madness before it's too late.
But he's too far gone already. She's ruined him forever. No woman has ever made him feel like this.
She knows he won't want to hear it, so she moans into his mouth that tastes of salt and cinnamon, so at least once she can convey it to him. How much she absolutely loves him. How much she's wanted to say it. For so long, even if he'll never say it back, even if he might not feel the same. But it doesn't matter. He won't hear it. This isn't real. Still, she loves him. And it's frustrating, and doesn't make any sense. And she should stop this madness, before it's too late.
But she's too deep in already. He's ruined her forever. No man will ever make her feel the same.
They don't know how to stop. They've waited so long. Three years in the making, for this moment. A year together. A year parted. A year together again. Such a thing has to be fate.
But it isn't real.
They're so close...so close…
It's not real.
So close.
None of it is real.
Mugen takes her wrist in his hand, and squeezes so hard it makes Fuu wince, and yet the sensation is so familiar to them both, more familiar than any other touch they've shared. The feeling of her delicate little wrist in his grasp. The feeling of his strong, calloused hand gripping onto her.
He doesn't want to hurt her. Not ever. But he just can't take it.
Even though it's a little painful...it somehow makes her fulfilled, knowing how desperately he holds on.
So close!
But it is. It is real! It's so close to the truth. So close to what they know. Every sensation, a touch once felt. Every word, a thought unsaid. So close to what they want.
It was so close to the reality of the moment stolen from them in that stable.
Mugen thrusts so very deep inside, so deep, something hot and unfamiliar coils in her belly.
Fuu's inner walls contract around him, pulling him into her, so much he loses his breath.
And then he hits another spot that has her screaming into his mouth. Her ankles interlock behind his back, keeping him there to stay, even as she feels him swell inside her.
Moaning into his shoulder, digging the hand he doesn't hold into his back, her body gives way to convulsions as she peaks more strongly than she ever has before, her whole world fades not to black, but deep red.
With a sharp groan, he releases inside her, spilling out his seed, his desire, his need for her, the first time he's ever done so with a woman, as his vision doesn't fade to white, but instead fills with light pink.
"Ah!" she cried out.
"Fuck!" he grunted aloud.
He can feel her nails, once digging hard into his shoulder, loosen in their grip. She softly caresses his scratched back.
She can feel his grip on her arm loosen, but rather than let go completely...his thumb tenderly brushes her bruising wrist.
Only after the forest echoed back their voices...did Mugen and Fuu realize... they each were not alone.
Then, there was merely a deep quiet; somewhere along the line, those noisy crickets and the screeching owls picked the most inopportune moment to fall silent.
They tried to still their movements as they came down from the waves of their climax, one bumpy shudder at a time. Sharp exhales bounced from their mouths, the breaths clearly discernible. Even when they tightened their lips, they could hear the air leave their nostrils.
Her moan had only been a yard away.
His curse had only been a yard away.
They didn't move. They didn't dare.
When enough seconds passed, Fuu removed her fingers from deep inside her, holding back a gasp as they slid from the sticky flesh. Meanwhile, Mugen pushed himself from the tree, tucking himself back into the confines of his shorts. The presence of his ritual still coated his hand.
"...Mu-Mugen?!" she called in the dark. "What the heck are you doing out here?"
"Takin' a leak!" he lied. "The hell were you doin' out here?!"
"The same thing!" she lied back. "N-Now go away!"
He knew she was lying. She knew he was lying. She'd heard him swear. He'd heard her moan.
He has half a mind to just go find her in the dark and tackle her to the grass, He'd be hard again in no time, feeling her in his hands. He'd be able to pleasure her so much better, reach parts of her that she'd never be able to reach on her own. But he regrettably remembered his sworn duty, to take her to find Jin. And though he cursed, and pushed himself away from the tree, Mugen retreated back towards the direction of the ryokan to wash the sticky guilt from his palm.
She waited in the darkness, hoping Mugen would go against her warning and find her in the dark ,and finally fulfill the fantasy she had so carefully designed. She wanted to demonstrate her love for him, to never have him doubt that she only loved him. Not Jin. Not anyone else. But the sound of his geta only faded farther away. So, she retreated back towards the direction of the ryokan to cleanse the slippery shame from her fingers.
Even so…
When Mugen made it back to his shared ryokan room with Giri, his hands folded behind his head...and he couldn't help but grin.
When Fuu made it back to her shared ryokan room with Tsuru, hiding back under the blankets...she almost giggled.
As they began to drift off into a satisfied sleep, smiling secret smiles in the darkness, they realized that perhaps the best made fantasies...were always the ones closest to reality.
~To Be Continued~
[A/N]: Thank you everyone for reading. This was just a little bonus I thought I'd throw in and experiment with, as a gift for all my wonderful, amazing, kind reviewers for Finding the Four-Eyed Samurai...WITH YOU? You all are such a huge inspiration, and constantly motivate me to continue writing. While Mugen and Fuu haven't canonically made love yet in the story, I hope that this CANON fantasy for them will at least sate your Fuugen needs for now.
Ah, but what is FTFES...WY, without a skit?
Jin: *eyes closed* ...Deplorable.
Shino: Jin, are you alright? Why won't you open your eyes?
Jin: I was permanently blinded...by something I read.
Shino: Something you read? Did something bad happen in one of your cute K-rated Fuugen fics that you always are reading?
Jin: *chokes* I-I do not read such nonsense.
Shino: ...You changed the Rating to Mature, thinking you'd find stories with more detailed combat and philosophical themes, didn't you.
Jin: *eyebrow twitches* Hm…
Shino: And now you have the image of your best friends having sex burned into your brain, don't you.
Jin: ...Ah.
If you enjoyed it, please Favorite and let me know your thoughts in a Review! Was there any part you liked best? Was there any reference to a chapter in FTFES...WY? that stood out most to you? Thank you so much for reading! Now then, ahem, please excuse me while I go YEET myself off a cliff.
Y-Y-YEET!
End of Chapter 42 B-Side