THE KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN! KINK MEME REBORN!
Hey fandom, it's been five months since we last had a decent kink meme going and anonymous cries for a new one have not gone un-heard.
THE SET-UP IS SIMPLE: Anonymously post a pairing (a threesome, a foursome, an orgy, etc) or a character and a kink in the comments of this post. It can be a personal
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He is unfazed, looks almost bored, and the slant of his eyes conveys his disdain all the more clearly. You know that he has knives up his sleeves, tricks and knives, and you know he can slice your fingertips off in half a heartbeat if you’re not careful, could shuck the flesh off your face until you’re nothing but a gaping skull with staring eyes and lolling tongue. You’re too arrogant to care. You wrap his hair around your fingers and tighten your hold until you’re sure it must hurt.
He slashes your cheek with one deft flick of the wrist, and before the blood begins to bead on your skin, he has you on the floor, his knees on either side of you, and he’s holding the blade to your throat.
“Last chance,” you say to him, and you say it with incongruous levity.
He holds your gaze as you press the tip of his braid to your lips, and then he drops the knife to the floor next to your head, straightens and leans as far back as the leash of his own hair allows him.
“So quiet today,” you murmur, and you pull him down harshly, crushing your mouths together.
It takes some effort, but you are the hitman Reborn, and you manage to bend him over the coffee table, grinding his hips against the edge, bruising, and you press into him mercilessly, your fingers shoved into the wet heat of his mouth, and his back arches against you as his hands rake down the tabletop. He doesn’t make a sound.
You pull your glistening fingers from his mouth, his breath ghosting after them, and you snake them down past his waist, beneath the layers of fabric. He bows his head until it touches the table, shoulders hunched, his hands curled tightly into fists, and he shudders.
“Won’t you look at me?” you say, and when he doesn’t answer, you jerk his head back by his hair, nip at his earlobe. Your other hand tightens around him.
He inhales sharply, and you straighten, pull harder, backward and downward, so that he has to grip the edge of the table and rock against it to bring himself upright. With his head tilted back towards the ceiling, his throat is exposed, pale and vulnerable, and you lick the side of his neck, feel his pulse jump beneath his too-taut skin.
When he looks at you, his eyes are dark and hooded, and you’re pretty sure that’s murder in his eyes rather than lust, but if the way he shifts his hips to give you easier access is any indication, he’ll hold off on killing you.
“Last chance,” you say again, and you mean it, and he knows you mean it, he knows it’s true, because tomorrow, the seven of you, chosen, will take that final step onto the sacrificial altar.
His tongue darts out to lick at the blood on your cheek. “Shall we, then?” he says in soft Italian, and you drink in his pretend smile.
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Anon knew she was going to love this from those lines. Your Reborn was *sqee* and, just, wow. Hot.
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I totally agree with everyone else; you portrayed the both of them in such fitting ways...I enjoyed reading this :3
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