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theunchainedmelody · 2 years

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The Fox and the Boar- A Fem Ronin x Bashō fic.

Note: This AU scene takes place at some point during Book 2 of Samurai of Hyuga, likely before one of the later Shogi tournaments. This story uses a female Ronin called Akane with the perverted, brutal, charming, protective, and impulsive traits. Her spirit animal is the brutal boar. WARNING: THIS IS A LEMON FIC! Very explicit. >:3

“Hiccup!"

The high-pitched sound had escaped the lips of a lone female sword-for-hire. Akane wiped the saké from her lips and chin. She had a wide, content grin on her face and a slightly rosy tint to her pale face, revealing her condition. Right now, she was sitting on the floor of a shady inn, her legs spread apart crassly as she lounged about lazily. One might think her careless, if not for the katana strapped to her belt. Nervously, a female server offered her another bottle. Akane sighed in relief as she sipped down a fresh dose of booze. Right now, the kid was asleep, under the watch of the handsome and ever-elusive shinobi Toshio. As for Hatch, he was probably off chasing after Momoko like a dog after a meal. Certainly, not joining Akane for celebratory drinks.

Akane used a finger to swat her long black bangs from her narrow cold eyes. She sighed. Her man troubles knew no end, especially given she remained deprived of one. Even so, she wanted something more pleasant for her somewhat inebriated mind to dwell on than wallowing about others. Yet, anything would do right now. Anything to avoid remembering her ex-boyfriend Jun nearly murdering her precious charge or worse, recalling her latest Shogi match that left her feeling like a headless chicken. Then again, perhaps she shouldn’t be complaining. This was a moment of peace, allowing her to enjoy some simple comforts in this here tavern. A lull before the storm. She slid her hand over the grip of her master’s blade, finding comfort in it. In the blink of an eye, Akane could have drawn it out and split open the waitress down the spine, returning it to the scabbard in the same moment. That’s just how fast of a draw the infamous assassin Akane the Manslayer was. Fortunately, killing civilians wasn’t ever an interest of hers. Indeed, something else was preoccupying her desires.

Her eyes wandered around. The alcohol was making her hungry, like a lone wolf ravenous for its next meal. And honestly, it had been a while since she last had tasted a man. Guarding sweet little Masashi had undoubtedly ensured she remained perpetually chaste. A few men were eying her up from the nearby tables, but none dared approach. If she didn’t make the first move, she’d never get anywhere in improving her night. Her intimidating face certainly didn’t help her odds, especially with the thin scar running down her cheek and the terrifying expressions she regularly sported.

In strode a familiar figure or rather, he burst in so theatrically it awoke half the patrons. The sound of jingling tables and dishes rang through Akane’s ears. Immediately, the ronin felt a twinge of discomfort. Why did it have to be him of all people? That damn weasel-faced man. Indeed, she was gazing upon the haiku master himself: Bashō. He was flickering a paper fan in a gesture reminiscent of a mischievous geisha. Akane felt a chill run up her spine as he clapped his hands joyously and approached her. His eyes were, as always, sealed closed. However, as he hovered happily over her, the manslayer found herself a bit comforted just by how excited he was to see her. In fact, now that she looked at him, Bashō was rather handsome, wasn’t he? With his long white hair, high cheekbones, and… well he had a rather nicely sculpted torso, visible through his open kimono.

Bashō said, “Well, well, if it isn’t our new Shogi preliminary master. Enjoying some well-earned winnings? Tell you what…”

He sat himself down cheekily at the opposite side of her table.

He continued, “Why don’t we compose you another haiku? This one will surpass even the last. I can tell!”

As always, he seemed elated at the thought of her pitiful writings. She wondered if he got off to it. She shook her head. With saké in her blood, it wasn’t as alarming a thought as she had intended. That made her grimace.

Akane said, “Bashō, quiet down, will you? Can’t you seem I’m trying to get drunk?”

“Come now, Akane-san. The artistry that escapes your tongue is breathtaking.”

“Hmmm?” she asked confused.

Why did everything this man say seem insincere? He was no doubt passionate about art, yet his flamboyancy and foxlike demeanor always seemed to hint at it being a mask. A mockery. Something sinister lay underneath. She sensed that. And yet, she wondered if there was another side of Bashō that had as of yet, remain undetected. One thing was certain. Despite him being gorgeous, he wasn’t particularly well-liked or well respected. So then, did he smile to hide his wounds, or did he smile because he thought all others to be fools? What did it take to get this weasel… no… this kitsune to bite or blush? As her gaze ran him up and down, it was a thought she couldn’t put out of her mind.

She leaned forward now and said, “You know… You’re not bad-looking. In fact, you’re pretty handsome.”

His perpetually sealed eyes opened deathly wide in utter disbelief. And then she saw it, two red jewels reflecting her scarred face.

“You have beautiful eyes too,” she remarked genuinely.

Perhaps I am a bit drunk.

Bashō seemed to be gulping, deprived of a clever word or theatrical comment to offer her. His eyes remained closed, though they appeared to be twitching. However, he immediately recovered himself, and his fan was again obscuring his features seductively.

He said, “Hmmm? I see you are more astute than I thought. In fact, I’ve been requested to appear in a number of paintings for my flawless looks!”

“Uh-huh…” said the ronin dryly.

Akane drank down what was left of the wine in her small choko. She stood up now as she slammed down some coinage and waltzed out of the inn leisurely with Bashō in tow. He grinned as he followed after the female ronin, perhaps wondering how long it would be until she shouted at him for stalking her.

_______________________________________________________________

Once they were outside, they were beset by a bustling street. The energetic and rowdy folk of Tonogasha appeared to be far from quieting down even so late after sundown. Prostitutes, drunken men, and ronin desperate for work were crowding the road of this sleepless city of sin. Akane dipped into an alley and exhaled calmly. It was a frozen night and her breath seemed to frost the air. She stretched the tight muscles of her arms above her head as she let out a satisfied moan. Bashō was beside her still, his smug smile as insufferable as ever. And yet far from unwelcome.

She said, “Following me around, are you?”

He said, “Why of course. After all, you still haven’t given me another masterpiece of a haiku. Oh, how my heart throbs at the thought! Your genius must be put on paper!”

“Tell you what, I have a better idea, fox face. How about you and I make something else of yours throb?”

Akane slid a finger beneath his chin with a sinful grin on her face, not terribly different from the bloodthirsty expression she displayed in battle. Bashō’s eyes opened yet again and this time there was a bit of crimson on his face. He gulped as he withdrew and found himself caught between her and the wall. Akane’s large breasts were hindering his escape as she sandwiched him there. She could feel his hard pecs pressing up against her nipples, the thin bandages on her chest being the only thing stopping a naked embrace.

“What’s wrong, poet? No haiku for this?”

He said playfully, “This is a rather strange game you are playing, Akane-san.”

“Game? I’m not some fickle tease. You won’t get blue balls with me. I prefer to drain a man’s balls.”

“Oh my! Akane-san, you truly are drunk.”

In truth, Akane was far from it. It would take more than a bottle or two to hinder her. It only served to make her feverish. The temptress now let her finger stroke his bare chest, enjoying the dip between his pectoral muscles. She felt Bashō’s heart racing faster the longer she touched his nude flesh.

Akane uttered playfully, “Oh? I thought you liked me, fox face? So much for that. Ask and I’ll stop. But why not find some inspiration for your art? Let me show you where my artistry truly lays.”

“You’re more poetic in this than I expected.”

“Finally, being honest, I see. I’ll make you confess everything tonight.”

Akane leaned forward, pressing her lips against his own. His kiss was soft like the rest of him. No doubt she tasted of alcohol and Bashō himself had little flavor, but the kiss was quite enjoyable, nonetheless. Bashō’s red eyes flashed at her, wavering from her kiss. For such a performer, he was melting. It was cute. A pretty boy was certainly a rarity for her as a partner, but it was far from unwelcome.

Something about the spontaneousness of doing it with him was arousing her. Akane inhaled the scent of the poet, of the sweet flowers and fragrant wood he gaudily perfumed over himself. She propped her hips on each side of his own. Her lower body was rubbing against his crotch, grinding eagerly. She reached down between his muscular legs and massaged his luxurious robes, feeling the bulge beneath them. Bashō was swiftly hardening from her touch. Already, her antics left him panting deliciously.

She said, “Mmmnn. Not a bad size down there, fox face. Very nice.”

Lips and tongues tasted each other hungrily. Her hands were all over him, running over his toned arms and silky hair. He began to do the same at last, exploring her curves. His nimble fingers ran down her sides, and she let out purrs and moans of approval. Bashō’s dexterous hands repeatedly slid up and down her bare leg, exposed through the slit of her kimono. The poet’s fingers ran up higher, fingering at the bandages she used as undergarments. He was dangerously close to her womanhood. Akane let out a moan as his fingers began to tease her most sensitive place. Once she was feverish for him, he grabbed hold of her round ass and began to squeeze it tightly. She giggled and plunged in for a deep kiss.

Akane’s fingers now tore open his kimono and began to fondle at his hard pecs. She kissed along his neck now, leaving a trail as she made her way down to his chest. She continued lower and lower still… Her trail of sinful kisses was becoming dangerous. Bashō panted as he felt her lips leave little wet marks down his stomach, ever approaching something rather dangerous. And then her lips lovingly found their mark and she smooched it in appreciation. Bashō covered his mouth as he growled, concealing a curse born of pleasure. She slid open his lower robes and enjoyed the splendid sight springing up before her. She licked her lips in anticipation. She moved her face up to him and began to kiss, lick, fondle, and swallow the target of her affections.

“Mmmph. Bold even for you, Akane-san.”

Akane was unable to say anything as her mouth was currently being stuffed full. Her tongue was savoring the masculine taste spearing her throat. She, at last, pried her mouth off of him and took in a deep breath of air. Bashō was breathing heavily now, his chest glistening with sweat as he grew more and more excited. The lady ronin leaned up against his ear and whispered in it.

“How about a haiku then?”

He froze up in curiosity, unsure if this was but a prank. Yet she began to recite a poem without even a moment of hesitation.

“A fox is hunting.

A boar soon blocks his exit.

Hungrily, they fight.”

She then whispered, “So hunt for once, Bashō.”

The white-haired man clenched his teeth and showed a wicked grin, a facial expression that Akane found utterly attractive. Bashō now seized her and spun her around roughly. He yanked up the bottom of her kimono and tore off the bandages coiled about her waist. Akane’s heart raced as she felt the perverted poet about to have his way with her. Utterly… Fully... Shamelessly… he would take her right in the alleyway. She arched her back and nearly screamed as he filled her, his hips crashing against her rear again and again. She felt the bare muscles of his torso rub against her back as he leaned over her and breathed hot steam into her ear. Akane slid a loving hand over his cheek and twisted her neck so as to latch her lips onto his mouth for a moment. His nimble, skeletal hands, so skilled in artistry, now fiddled with her breasts, pinching nipples as he spread apart her sarashi. Bashō found himself gaining another burst of vigor, revealed in how he grabbed hold of her long locks of wild hair tied in a ponytail. He seized them and yanked back her head as he rammed her deep. Akane grit her teeth as she blushed furiously.

Fuck. This feels way too good.

Bashō said, “You have such beautiful hair, Akane-san. Almost as lovely as you.”

She blushed for the second time that night. Her predatory edge was being lost, but she didn’t mind. Getting such a compliment from a man was a rare thing and she had no intention of squandering it.

She said, “A silver-tongued poet indeed, fox face.”

“Mmmn. I’ll take that over the weasel nickname you branded me with, Akane-san.”

He laughed briefly before his pleasure overtook them both. Akane was overcome with a similar ecstasy, unable to even consider apologizing for her cruel teasing, not that it was all undeserved. She kept her hands pressed against the wall of the inn for balance, steadying herself to absorb his blows.

The pair of sinners continued to mate furiously in the alley as the night drifted onwards. Their bodies were covered in sweat and burning with fever. Akane ignored the vagrants that stopped to gape at her, even if it was a good-looking fellow. Truth be told, she was being lost in the pleasure that was Bashō. Her mind drew a blank as she reached her climax, and her man released his seed within her not a moment later. The noise of their moans echoed down the lonely backstreet.

“Fuck!” she cursed as she slid off of him and stood up, panting.

She continued, “I needed that. Wasn’t expecting to get it from you, but I’m not complaining.”

“Neither am I,” he said, his coy eyes again closed, “That was most enjoyable. I think I’ve gained inspiration for my next masterpiece.”

“Hmmm. Well, good luck with… whatever you mean by that. I gotta get back to the kid. Later, poet.”

“Goodnight, Akane-san.”

The manslayer waved lazily at him as she walked away, trying to tighten her torn bandages.

“Oh… and Akane-san.”

The ronin froze in her steps, turning her head back to him. She waited upon him inquisitively.

Bashō continued, “There are foxes with much sharper fangs out there than mine. I’d keep your sword close, just as you did tonight.”

Akane grinned and answered, “Wouldn’t be caught without it.”

She winked playfully at him, a bit of affection in her gaze. He returned the favor with a smug smirk. With that, they went their separate ways at the midnight hour. As always, Bashō and Akane were like water and oil. Snow and flame. He made his artistry with ink and brush while she carved hers with blood and sword. And yet if they had one thing in common, it was the sense that the other was a predator. Of that, Akane was now fully sure. This man was not to be trusted, and yet, seeing his genuine face beneath the mask, she couldn’t help but find some favor for him. There had been kindness in their encounter, a kindness she knew she was not meant to see. Someone else would surely remove his mask entirely. Someone else that was not her.

“Such kindness is wasted on a demon like me,” she said as she fiddled with her katana, a lazy grin painted on her face. Her eyes peered through her veil of bangs to gaze upon a full moon. It set all of Tonogasha aglow and so she retreated into the darkness where she belonged.

THE END

#Samurai of Hyuga #Fem Ronin #Bashō #Basho #Lemon fic #Lemon #Ronin x Bashō #Ronin x Basho #Rare pair

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