A/N: Alrighty, I am no stranger to Kuroshitsuji, but for once I'm not writing for my dearest Bassy but for Undertaker's crazy ass instead. This is for my dearest little Kohai, whom I promised this for. *smiles* So my dear, I hope this brightens your mood like it did mine. I hope you all enjoy and please review! Keep fangirling, XOXOXO!

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Kuroshitsuji.

X's And O's

"Adrian Crevan!"

The ex shinigami all but jumped out of his skin as a certain pinkette screamed his name from the caverns of hell and back. The door to his tacky little coffin shop nearly flew off its rusted hinges as Kirimi, from the Sweet and Magic shoppe scross the street, kicked it open. Her candy pink tressed bounced angrily as she stomped over to him and the body he had been… um… working on. Her eyes flared threateningly with anger, and for once, the busy funeral director didn't know why.

"Why Kirimi," Undertaker purred with chuckles. "What can I do for you?"

"Oh shut the hell up," She snapped. "This isn't one of those calls." Meaning she wasn't stomping over in a heated rage of lust and estrogen, demanding that the dashing shinigami stopped whatever it was he was doing at the time to screw her senseless, and Undertaker was never one to disappoint. "I need a coffin."

Undertaker tilted his head to the side questioningly, "Oh?" He asked. "What did you do this time?" He was barely able to surpress the stream of giggles that had slipped past his lips. The pinkette seemed to be his bes customer nowadays, every time he looked up she needed a coffin because she had accidently gone off and killed something somewhere. For a so called professional, the pinkette lacked skill. But what she lacked in the workplace, she made up in the bedroom… or inside a coffin.

Kirimi gaped at him offendedly. "I didn't do anything!" She huffed. "How was I supposed to know that stripping a body of its soul would kill the poor man? And he was so promising too… that's my third apprientice this week." She felt hidden eyes gaze upon her accusingly, judging her quietly behind the fluff of his gray bangs.

"But you're an ex angel, you're supposed to know these things."

"Yeah? Well, you're an ex death god with more issues than a person with leprosy. But do you hear me complaining? No. Now can I get my damn coffin or not?"

"You know the payment." Replied Undertaker.

Kirimi sighed, she was all out of jokes and had been for the last month. Seeing the delima, the shinigami errupted into a fit of giggles.

"No joke, my dearest Kirimi… but, something sweet should do fine." He said.

The pinkette sighed in relief, "Oh good," Said Kirimi. "I just took a batch of cookies out the oven before coming over." She smiled happily.

"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk." He waved a long, ghostly finger. "I wasn't talking about that kind of sweet, Kirimi." Undertaker said, his voice droping an octive.

Kirimi thought for a moment before a blush formed in her chocolate cheeks. "I said this wasn't that kind of visit." She said with a frown.

But Undertaker had already stepped away from the body he had been prepping, removing his hat, before tossing the pinkette an expectant yet hidden look. "Are you going to undress or do you want me to do it?" He asked. If there was one thing Mr. Adrian Crevan didn't joke about, it was his sex life. He took his… sessions very seriously, and since the pinkette was such a good lay (and the only one currently worth his time), he enjoyed every moment of it.

Kirimi grumbled something under her breath, something along the lines of 'This is the last time I come here for a damn coffin,' unzipping the lone zipper that held her short, pleathery dress together. She shielded herself from the drafty shop air, the feeling of death gripping her, as a large hand grabbed her and pulled her close. Kirimi smiled up into his shielded face deviliously, "Show me those eyes." She whispered seductively, lifting his bangs. Light auburn, almost pure golden tinted eyes stared back at her, giving her such a thrill.

Undertaker groweld deeply, roughly attacking her lips. His lips never left hers, hungry and filled with passion, as his large palms sought out her sides. His lips sculpted to hers as he lifted her onto a nearby coffin, wrapping her legs around his waist. "Undress me," He commanded in between heated kisses, giving her bottom lip a lick.

"I can't" Kirimi panted. "Undressing you is like trying to find a golden needle in a haystack the size of London…" She moaned. "It's impossible."

Undertaker paused, "As many times as we've done this, you still can't undress me?" He asked, skeptical, as he slowly began to remove his clothing, piece by piece.

Kirimi visibly pouted, "Just hurry up and fuck me already." She said, laying her back against the cool wood of the coffin she sat on.

Undertaker, from behind the coverage of his bangs, relished in the sight of the ex angel, and found himself at a loss for words. He couldn't help but give her an amused smile, his partner was far too interesting for him to get enough of. It was like a whole new experience every time, seeing her bare and beneath him, how her beauty transcended both worlds. The pinkette watched with much interest as Undertaker slid his shirt off his broad shoulders, revealing the flawless pale skin underneath. For some reason she was more excited than normal, giving his hair an urging tug for him to move quicker. He simply chuckled at the gestre, chiding her for being so impatient. She ran her hands down the masterpiece that was his torso, feeling the cool skin of his pectorals and abdominals curl and ripple under her finger tips, ghosting over his belly button and lightly touching the faint gray hairs about his hardening cock. Scarred and marke up yes, but the ex shinigami was truly a handsome sight to behold.

Undertaker leaned over the smiling pinkette, pinning her hands above her head as he claimed her lips once more, the feeling of his cool peckers against her own sparked a heated sensation throughout her entire body. But Kirimi wasn't one to be so submissive, at least not yet. She quickly wiggled out of his grasp, manovering herself so that she now leaned over him, his golden gaze clealy upon her as his far fell from his face. The pinkette took his hardening cock into her hands, causing a shiver to course down the shinigami's spine, as she licked up the bottom of his shaft. He gave a loud, throaty moan as she circumnavated his tip, sucking lightly on his slit. Undertaker culd barely contain himself as she consumed his now throbbing cock, his head rolling in bliss Kirimi took him as deep as she could, bobbing her head. Weaving his fingers in thick curls as she sucked him hard, Undertaker thrusted his hips upwards, giving her mouth a good fuck as he brought himself to a climax. Normally Kirimi would've protested against the rough thrusting done to her throat, but the pleasured mews from her death god were far too delicious for her to pass up. Smiling triumphantly, she climbed onto his laid out form, settling above his cock. Kirimi gave a loud yelped, a muffled out scream following in suit as strong hands seized her shoulders, pushing her down onto the erection below. Undertaker moaned again, his golden eyes closing, as the pinkette's warm swallowed his heat. He rocked his hips a bit, her body giving a sway automatically, as he basked in her tightness. Kirimi held onto his forearms, his hands resting firmly on her waist. Releasing his hold on her waist, Undertaker grabbed ahold of her modest breasts, her buds taunt against his cold palms, as he bucked his hips, urging the pinkette to ride him hard. Kirimi rocked herself on his cock, feeling him slip out then back in, and moaning at the sweet sensation. She moved slow at first, never one to rush, enjoying the feeling of his thickness stretching her for a better fit, her pitched moans filling the death filled shop quickly. It wasn't until Undertaker gave her breasts a rough squeeze that she picked up her pace, his hips bucking to meet her rocking ones, that her body began to joyfully bounce. His cock pushed deeper past her walls, making the pinkette see bursts of wild colors, as he matched her strength and then some. Kirimi moaned his name, her head tossed back, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. God, there wasn't anything the pinkette didn't love about the ex shinigami. Everything from his overly cheerful and sometimes dark personality all the way down to the beast in his pants, she wanted and got it all. His demanding thrusts were all but suffocating her, and as he reached his climax, Undertaker regained his hold on her waist, stilling her as he thrusted upwards with all his strength, releasing in a deep moan.

Kirimi slipped off of Undertaker's cock with a slight 'pop', resting her head against his heaving chest. Sweat decorated his brow beneath damp bangs, the cold from the one creeping onto them once again, only this time their blazing bodies welcomed it. "I said this wasn't supposed to be one of those visits," The pinkette weakily protested. All she could to was lay there, completely spent.

Undertaker fisted a hand in her wild candy locks, giving them a gentle pull. "Kirimi," He said with a deep chuckle. "All of our visits are like this."