Title: Girl Clothes.
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
Warnings: Girl!Dino.
Characters/couples: Hibari/Girl!Dino
Summary: Diana wears men's trousers, combo-pants that are tight over her hips but that flow down her thighs and legs.
Rating: NC17
Notes: So I suddenly wanted to write Hibari/Dino wallsex with a skirt. Everyone else I told this said 'what are you wating for'. So it's their fault
Girl Clothes.
Diana wears men's trousers, combo-pants that are tight over her hips but that flow down her thighs and legs. They slide down until they're stretched on her hips, until there's almost a hand's breath of bare skin on her midriff, the ink of her tattoos showing there on her side.
She had told him that men's clothes were more resistant or something like that once, easier to hide weapons, but Hibari hadn't cared enough to pay attention to her babbling, also knowing that her clothes probably helped her when she fell down. He had, perhaps, tried to picture Diana wearing Namimori's uniform once or twice before he decides that she's too blonde, to loud, too clumsy for his colors.
That is not to say she doesn't own skirts, or that she doesn't wear them. There are reunions between bosses where the Cavallone's Tenth walks in black skirt and black jacket, stilettos shoes and the calm confidence that makes her family the third most powerful of the Mafia. Kyoya doesn't care about what she wears then either, and he stays behind, half paying attention to the negotiations, the other half waiting. He sees her men doing the same, eyes going to the windows, to the doors, hands already beneath their jackets.
“We're not giving up that territory,” Diana says, confident and sure and almost brutal, finally showing her fucking fangs, dropping off the herbivore costume she insists on having everywhere.
And that's when the attack starts. Kyoya has his own share to grind his tonfas against, smashing skulls and jaws and windpipes, but he sees her fight, hears the slash of her whip, listens to her scream orders to her men and he smirks, causing the two idiots in front of him to piss themselves right then and there.
When it's over, she's still on the adrenaline high, sending her men one to call for ambulances, to double the guards, to make sure the rest of the family is okay. Her Italian is bullet-fast, her strides still confident and unguarded. The attack left her with her skirt ruined, a long tear running from the knee to her thigh, making the black elastic of her garter obvious as she walks by, talking on her cellphone, saying no to medical attention until everyone of her family is okay. Her white shirt is equally ruined with dust and blood, and when she wipes her face with her wrist she smears a line of red up her cheekbone, her lips blood-red. When Hibari sees her step with her stilettos on the fingers of the leader of the squad that attacked them and grind, promising death if she ever sees them even close to her territory, he finds himself achingly hard.
They ride the elevator together, she leaning against the wall, rolling her neck and shoulders. Her hair is matted with dust and sweat, and then she smiles at him, looking almost sated.
“I need a bath,” she says, and then Kyoya reaches to stop the elevator from moving, and before Diana can even ask what is that about, if he heard something or whatever, Kyoya is crushing her against the wall, drawing the breath out of her as he kisses her hard, a hand tight on her thigh. And before she has gotten her breath back, he breaks the kiss and bites her neck.
“Fuck, Kyoya,” she moans, hisses and her fingernails rake his back, and he keeps on thrusting against her, Diana's leg hooking around his hip to get closer, in such a way that the fact that he's wearing trousers and she still has her underwear is almost not important because she hasn't put her herbivore skin back just yet. She moves his head, curses in Italian when he doesn't immediately let go of her neck and then she kisses him. She tastes like blood and sweat and she keeps on fighting here, kissing him just as hard, breathing hard against his lips.
“Wait, wait,” she mutters finally, no quite pushing him away, instead searching through her jacket, bringing out a condom that she presses against his chest, looking flushed and fierce, her lips still blood-red, and it's a familiar challenge, but he drops her, expects her to trip but she just leans against the wall for a moment, knees weak, her eyes warm and expression hungry as he undoes the button of his trousers, pushing them down his hips just enough for him to roll on the rubber. She only takes off her panties, turns over, bracing herself against the wall and Kyoya rucks the ruin of her skirt against her waist, lines up behind her and he pushes inside her.
“Kyoya, yes,” and she's loud, almost annoyingly so, but she feels good around his cock, even through the rubber, and Kyoya's hands tighten on her hips as she moans, low and drawn as the full length of his cock slides into her. “Fuck...”
She's tight around him, and as he thrusts inside Diana makes soft, almost-victim noises that make Hibari shudder and bite her shoulder, the nape of her neck, makes him paste himself to her back, wrap an arm around her waist to keep on thrusting. Despite the way she sounds she shoves against him hard, and Hibari barely pulls out, fucks her hard against the wall.
“Yes,” Diana moans. “Kyoya, yes, fuck, almost--”
He bites her again to make her shut up, and that makes the desperate pitch of her moaning increase before she tightens hard against his cock and when she comes, Kyoya feels the way her thighs tremble against his.
Kyoya speeds his thrusts when she finishes, keeps her tight against him, fucking her, and when she has her breath back again she thrusts back against him, the victim-like sounds back again, but Kyoya sees how she moves a hand down her own body, and when she presses her fingers against her clit she does it hard-- Hibari can feel the heavy pressure inside her cunt as he thrusts and he grits his teeth not to shudder, keeps on fucking her, and the second time Diana comes he does as well, biting her shoulder to stop from moaning, and he feels her trembling, then feels the way her other hand moves to touch the back of his own neck, almost in a caress that Kyoya decides to allow just that one time.
He's not surprised that, once he pulls back, dropping the condom on the floor right there, she almost falls down, always so damn clumsy. But her eyes are warm as she looks at him, and once their out there with her family there's no clumsiness left. As she walks, Hibari notices through the slit of her skirt that he bruised her thigh where he held her, a mark of his fingertips that she doesn't care to hide, almost as if it was another one of her stupid tattoos.
Kyouya smirks. One good thing about her outfit.