(no subject)
Title: The Seamstress
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
Pairing: Bianchi/Dino
Rating: R [sex, language]
Word Count: 500
Notes: This was going to be for a khrfest prompt...but it sort of veered away from what I wanted to do with it, so I'm just putting it here. :)
This is the second time she's fucked Dino Cavallone since Reborn died.
He's in her bed, his head slotted between her thighs, one large hand pressed to her trembling belly and all she can think about is the way this is comfort, the way this is nothing more.
All she can think about is, How do we put this back together again?
He's moving up over her now, all over-earnest hands and mouth of amazement because she's letting him do this, she's letting him do this and he hasn't wanted anything more than this in the last ten years. Not since she first sat curled on his father's sofa and watched Reborn beat him black and blue in the name of training, in the name of strength, in the name of things which must be done. He's wanted nothing more than this and he has been a ghost to her.
But he's not a ghost now. (Now, he's sliding up between her legs, he's ready to slide in, he's ready to say, "Baby, I've been wanting this," but she rolls her eyes before he has a chance and she kisses him, tastes him, tastes herself, and he pushes inside.) He's this heavy thing on top of her, rutting against her, into her like some stupid teenage boy and she can't deny that the clumsiness of it, the awkwardness of it, the goddamned stupidity of it all wasn't a little distracting in the best kind of way.
His lips tug on her neck and she thinks of Lal, beautiful, foolish Lal, mourning the loss of a lover, fighting with the will of the fearless because it's the only thing she knows to do with that fire in her gut.
The palm of his hand settles over her breast and she thinks of Kyoko and Haru, both weeping for a body in a casket in the woods. Both weeping and holding each other and maybe there's some comfort in that, but comfort is mostly useless anyway.
He rolls them and shifts her over his hips, and she thinks of her brother in the tired arms of his lover, still so angry, still too scared to give in to the affection being offered to him.
Dino gasps her name, bucks his hips like he knows what he's doing, and she feels the tension building inside her. He's going to make her come, she knows it, and it's been so long. They're both so broken, but maybe the way their voices thread together in this dark room will be enough to stitch them back together.
Maybe it will be enough to mend them all.
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
Pairing: Bianchi/Dino
Rating: R [sex, language]
Word Count: 500
Notes: This was going to be for a khrfest prompt...but it sort of veered away from what I wanted to do with it, so I'm just putting it here. :)
This is the second time she's fucked Dino Cavallone since Reborn died.
He's in her bed, his head slotted between her thighs, one large hand pressed to her trembling belly and all she can think about is the way this is comfort, the way this is nothing more.
All she can think about is, How do we put this back together again?
He's moving up over her now, all over-earnest hands and mouth of amazement because she's letting him do this, she's letting him do this and he hasn't wanted anything more than this in the last ten years. Not since she first sat curled on his father's sofa and watched Reborn beat him black and blue in the name of training, in the name of strength, in the name of things which must be done. He's wanted nothing more than this and he has been a ghost to her.
But he's not a ghost now. (Now, he's sliding up between her legs, he's ready to slide in, he's ready to say, "Baby, I've been wanting this," but she rolls her eyes before he has a chance and she kisses him, tastes him, tastes herself, and he pushes inside.) He's this heavy thing on top of her, rutting against her, into her like some stupid teenage boy and she can't deny that the clumsiness of it, the awkwardness of it, the goddamned stupidity of it all wasn't a little distracting in the best kind of way.
His lips tug on her neck and she thinks of Lal, beautiful, foolish Lal, mourning the loss of a lover, fighting with the will of the fearless because it's the only thing she knows to do with that fire in her gut.
The palm of his hand settles over her breast and she thinks of Kyoko and Haru, both weeping for a body in a casket in the woods. Both weeping and holding each other and maybe there's some comfort in that, but comfort is mostly useless anyway.
He rolls them and shifts her over his hips, and she thinks of her brother in the tired arms of his lover, still so angry, still too scared to give in to the affection being offered to him.
Dino gasps her name, bucks his hips like he knows what he's doing, and she feels the tension building inside her. He's going to make her come, she knows it, and it's been so long. They're both so broken, but maybe the way their voices thread together in this dark room will be enough to stitch them back together.
Maybe it will be enough to mend them all.