Prompt: Katekyo Hitman Reborn! - Reborn/Lal Mirch - bruises, scars, wounds - It doesn't faze him, of course.
"You're too easy to read," he says reprovingly to the gun in her hand when he shuts the door behind him.
Lal Mirch flinches, then bares her teeth at him. "Go to hell," she suggests, and her shoulders go rigid when he tips the gun away with a negligent finger.
"Too easy to read and too easy to hit," he says to the bandage on her shoulder, the fading scars on her skin, the bruise on the left side of her ribcage.
"I get the job done." She counters stiffly, but cannot lay the gun down, despite how useless it would be against him.
Instead she meets his eyes squarely, like a punch or a challenge.
"I prize precision," he says with that lazy, almost-cruel smile of satisfaction, and then he lifted a hand and slides fingers into her dark hair. She almost flinches, but not quite, locks her knees and grits her teeth. He's close enough to kiss. "Recklessness is not to congratulated," he adds against her mouth, and his smile is savage when he leans all the way in and kisses her hard enough to force her mouth open.
Her arm jerks up and he does nothing to stop it; Lal Mirch hisses in a clumsy breath, presses the muzzle to his temple, and kisses him back just as fierce.
His fingers slide over the bruise, the bandages, cup her hips. Her heartbeat drops to pulse thick and golden in the pit of her belly, her thighs bump the edge of the desk and he pins her there, makes her gasp as he presses against the bruises.
His grip is firm, too strong to fight, and the gun does not waver. When he cups her, fingers curling against and into the slick heat of her body, her head falls back and she shudders, but the gun does not shift.
And you're selfish, she thinks as he slides into her, grip just a little too tight and sparking pain into the sensory endorphin rush but to hold back sounds of pleasure she's clenching her teeth too hard to speak.