#khr reader insert

You were flustered beyond belief.

Pinned beneath him upon his bed, your words broken up by gasps and whines, with every inch of your skin exposed almost immediately followed by the brush of his lips and the drag of his fingers.

This was Verona's ruler! He should be tugging at fine silks and lace, not the coarse cotton of your servant attire.

Giotto responded by planting his face right in-between your thighs, his hands happily keeping your legs pressed close against his head while his tongue lapped along your sopping center in quick, fluid strokes, continuing to lick away even as your hips bucked helplessly with the crash of your orgasm.

While you were left to catch your breath, he was as calm as could be--amused even, with the small grin that tugged at the corner of his mouth, his chin wet and glistening with your essence.

His lips fell by your ear, planting kisses along the shell as he hummed out,

"No matter what you wear, you have bewitched me so, principessa. From that very night, I have been chasing after you, yearning for you--"

And as he mounted you fully, chiseled physique anchoring yours down, his hands spreading your legs apart as he situated himself right in-between, his earnest confession degraded into a pleased hiss while he slotted the full length of his cock inside of your core.

"--never have I wanted to see and touch what was beneath another person's clothes in all my life...!"

With his name uttered freely in pleasure by your trembling lips, your hands clinging onto his shoulders, he was spurred forward to move.

That same joy, that same warmth--all from the simple contact you two shared during your dance together from that fateful night--beckoned for him to pound away inside of you. Now, with your bodies fully bare, with no prying or envious stares or glares to be mindful of, the two of you could be as free and open to one another as could be.

Pummeling his cock over and over into your slick, tight heat, all while your initial bashfulness melted into shameless yearning and pleas for him to kiss and touch you more, he found himself groaning out,

"Even as I look forward to our wedding, I already cannot wait to strip you out of your gown and veil."

His fingers found their way to yours, lacing together as he squeezed your hand, his golden eyes burning with resolve as he declared,

Tsuna and Kyoko's engagement party had only just begun. The ballroom at the Vongola's Japanese headquarters was tastefully decorated for the event. Evening sunshine beamed through the colossal windows looking out on to the thriving garden. Friends and family (and Family) of the couple drifted in and out from all directions, and all of them wore formal garb, the men, suits; the women, colorful gowns. Standing awkwardly by the drink table, you felt entirely out of place.

"What on earth are you wearing?"

The question asked in the familiar deep voice of your older brother, Kyoya Hibari, did not soothe your nerves. You shifted and found yourself unable to meet his gray eyes. Avoiding his face would only upset him, but you simply couldn't manage to lift your gaze. At least you kept your own voice steady when you answered:

"It's a ball gown."

"Is there a reason you've chosen to look so ridiculous?"

Pins and needles sharper than Roll's shot up your arms. Trust Kyoya to speak your fear into existence the moment he saw you. Just looking at yourself in the mirror before coming downstairs, you knew—well, you knew you didn't look as natural as the likes of Kyoko and Haru and Bianchi looked in their dresses. When your typical black-tie attire consisted of a literal black tie, suit, pants, and dress shirt in your Flame color, of course you stood out like a sore thumb wearing a gown.

"I just thought it would be nice to dress up for the party." You crushed the hem of your skirt in one fist.

"And if something should happen to necessitate moving quickly and precisely?" he asked.

"Kyoya," you groaned. "No one is going to mount an attack on the Tsuna's engagement party, all right? No one!"

"You're certain of that, are you? Hn. Well, if you want to risk getting blood all over your pretty clothes..."

"As if you aren't the goriest fighter here," you muttered, rather than admit he'd made you feel dumber than ever. You'd spent a decent amount of money on this outfit, and some of tonight's guests were sure to misbehave, even if their actions didn't amount to bloodshed. "No one is going to start a fight tonight," you said more firmly, "Hayato would kill them if they so much as thought about it."

"Do you think he'd mind killing Lambo now as opposed to later?" came a new voice to your conversation.

You looked around to spot your good friend I-Pin sauntering up to you and your brother, resplendent in an electric blue and yellow qipao. She offered a respectful bow to Kyoya, who answered with a slight inclining of his head, before she turned to give you a once-over.

"You look great, [Name]!" she said.

Awkwardly, you fingered the neckline of your gown. "I take your comment to mean you and Lambo are currently off."

I-Pin hummed noncommittally. Her surreptitious glance at Kyoya was answer enough. You spied Lambo across the hall, surrounded by the usual hoard of squealing fans, but even from this distance you could see his eyes darting toward I-Pin's back every few seconds. So she hadn't just come over to compliment your appearance, then; this was a strategic position on her part. Whether he'd willingly admit it or not, Kyoya had a soft spot for her—and not an ounce of sympathy for Lambo.

"Anyway," I-Pin said with a wave of her hand, "don't listen to Mr. Hibari. If Lambo tries anything disruptive tonight, I'll kill him myself. You just focus on wooing you-know-who."

You felt rather than saw Kyoya stiffen beside you.

"I-Pin," you hissed between clenched teeth.

She winced. "Sorry. Was that a secret?"

"So that's why you decided to wear something like that," he said.

"Kyoya—" you began, but he cut you off.

"I forbade you from speaking to him, did I not?"

Only your brother could make his fury plain with such a cold, emotionless voice. But he had trained you well. You did not quail at his tone. Instead, you looked him straight in the eye and said:

"I can speak with him if I want to speak with him."

"Oh? And how do you plan to defy me when you can't even reach your weapon right now?"

Poor I-Pin could only watch as you and Kyoya sized each other up. Her dark eyes were huge in her face. Probably she knew the same thing that you did: You couldn't take him. Kyoya wasn't called the strongest Vongola Guardian for no reason. But the minute you let on that you knew that would be the minute he won.

"Tsuna says we should be welcoming. If he doesn't care if I talk to him, why should you?" you asked.

"She's right, Mr. Hibari. Mr. Sawada wants—"

Kyoya gave I-Pin a look that clearly told her to stay out of his family disputes. Her mouth snapped shut, and she shot you an obvious nonverbal apology. Well, it wasn't her fault your brother was so good at holding grudges.

"Tsuna can 'welcome' whoever he wants," he said. "But you—

"What happened between you and Mukuro happened ten years ago, and it has nothing to do with me!"

"Kufufu. Speak of the devil, and he will appear."

And there, through a sudden dense mist that surrounded the refreshment table, materialized a tall figure in shadow. The fog rolled away to reveal a familiar man with long blue hair. I-Pin gasped. Mukuro didn't spare her a second glance. As usual, he had eyes only for Kyoya, and Kyoya for him.

"Don't tell me I'm the culprit of another little Hibari family spat. Poor [Name]," Mukuro purred, pulling you against his side. "Is the big, bad Cloud Guardian bullying you again?"

"Let her go," Hibari said in a tone that would have struck terror into the heart of anyone else.

Mukuro just slid his gloved fingers into your painstakingly-crafted hair. "If she wanted me to let her go, she could easily make me herself. Isn't that right, dear little [Name]?"

All you could do was grit your teeth and tug futilely against his grip. It was always like this when anyone forced Mukuro and Kyoya into the same room together. Try as you might to find Takeshi in the crowd to signal for aid, you couldn't find him. Anyone else getting involved in this exchange would only make things worse.

"Oh, Mr. Hibari, I really don't think taking our your tonfa is a good idea!" I-Pin said.

Or perhaps things would get worse without Hayato or Ryohei's help.

"Do we really have to do this?" you raised your voice so that Kyoya could hear.

Of course, he said nothing. Mukuro simply laughed again. The sound raised the hairs on the back of your neck at such close quarters.

"What do you mean? All I'm doing is greeting a dear friend of mine."

"We are not friends."

"[Name], you wound me. Did you not just say that what lies between your brother and myself has nothing at all to do with you?"

"You're not who I'm concerned about."

"Ahhh. So it's still my beloved disciple that holds your—"

Only because you'd seen them fight so many times over the course of your life were able to shift in time to avoid Kyoya's first strike with his tonfa. Mukuro let go of you before the metal could touch him. The sudden disappearance of his iron grip sent you tumbling to the hard ground.

"[Name], are you okay?" I-Pin asked as you struggled to right yourself around your gown. All you seemed capable of was getting yourself more tangled.

"Kyoya might have been right about the dress," you answered.

"But he's the one that started it!"

At least you'd dodged the opening assault. No doubt your brother would have blamed you for getting in the way of his never-ending battle with Mukuro, skirts or no skirts. But now you lay forgotten—literally—in a heap while those two duked it out again. Each face already glistened with lines of blood, and, much to your horror, the whole debacle had started to draw attention.

"Oi! What do you bastards think you're doing?!"

"Shit," you said as you spotted Hayato rushing in the direction of the fracas. The spaces between each of his fingers held sticks of dynamite. You had to act fast, or Tsuna's entire party would have to be held in the ruins of his recently-built mansion. "Would you two knock it off?!"

If either Mukuro or Kyoya heard you, neither showed it. Only the ubiquitous sound of tonfa clanging against pitchfork replied. Hayato sped nearer all the while. The dynamite drew closer and closer to the lit cigarette clenched between his teeth. Though I-Pin continued to grasp your shoulder as she watched the chaos unfold around her, you managed to shake her off. With a tremendous amount of effort, you heaved yourself up to your feet.

"Stop!"

Although he hadn't mentioned it, your brother probably wouldn't have approved of your heels either. You'd agree with that in retrospect as well. The sudden momentum combined with your clumsy gait sent you stumbling right into the middle of the fight.

"Not at this party, you assholes!"

And just in time for Hayato to throw his own weapon into the ring. The dynamite soared at you as though in slow motion. You could not dodge. You could not swipe it away. You could only watch, aghast, as the explosive sailed right up to you before it detonated with an earsplitting boom.

Crash!

A loud ringing filled your ears. Above you hanged jittering crystals, clouds of smoke, and wisps of purple and indigo flames. You stared at this kaleidoscope in a daze. Then, all at once, sensation slammed back into you: laughter, pain, cold, wet.

"Oh, children! Couldn't you have waited for the real party to arrive before you got to the fun part of the evening?" Footsteps walking through shards of glass heralded the arrival of yet more of an audience to your mortification. "Got into the liquor a little early tonight, hmm, [Name]?"

You recognized the barely stifled laughter before your brain caught up with your eyes to recognize the bright red and lime green blurring across your vision: Lussuria. The Varia had at last arrived.

A chill seeped into your bones—or maybe that was just the wine soaking through your ruined dress. Unwilling to sit there a moment longer, you gingerly peeled yourself off the collapsed table littered with the remains of the pyramid of glasses. Whether I-Pin's gasp was in reaction to the stains on your wardrobe or the cuts you could feel opening up across your shoulders and arms, you couldn't say. You didn't have the mental capacity to ask, for directly next to the Varia's Sun Guardian—who was practically quivering with glee at your predicament—stood the one person you'd been hoping to impress that evening.

Fran's face betrayed nothing of what he felt upon finding you in such a state. Why would it? It never did. Just behind him, Mukuro's red eye danced with amusement. Your brother narrowed his own eyes at the back of Fran's head—covered, as always, by some ludicrous cap.

Fran made eye contact with you. He said nothing. You said nothing.

"Oh, [Name]."

You felt I-pin lightly grasp your shoulder again, but you shook it off once more.

"I need to go change," you mumbled.

Without waiting for anyone to try to stop you, you turned and mechanically marched from the ballroom. Only a few people called out, but you ignored them. It took every ounce of self-control Kyoya had drilled into you to remain stoic with so many eyes watching your progress. One slipup, one crack in your façade, would only make an already humiliating situation worse.

Step by agonizing step, you made it to the hallway, to the grand stairs, to the room assigned to you as a guest visiting for the party. You let out a tremulous breath as you pulled the heavy wooden door shut behind you with a quiet click.

The bed in front of you looked so welcoming. You could pull of this godawful gown, wash off your makeup, and throw yourself into the lush pillows for a good cry. Certainly nothing else sounded more appealing just then.

But you could not. Someone would come searching for you when you didn't return. The last thing you needed was for either Mukuro or Kyoya to catch you crying over spilled wine, and all that after spilling wine all over yourself in front of a cute boy you rarely got to see.

Then you spotted your reflection in the mirror. This alone cracked your thin veil of composure. Dark wine colored huge patches of your dress. Your impact with the table had loosed your hair from its meticulous styling. Your eyes, despite your best efforts, were red and damp.

A sob burned the inside of your chest, but you refused to let it out. You whipped around and marched to the room's adjoining balcony. If you could not fling yourself into bed and cry, then you could stand outside and watch the last of the sunset over the garden. Clutching your upper arms so hard that your fingernails sent little stabs of pain up them kept you grounded enough to stay calm where someone might spot you.

Why did Kyoya have to be this way? You were a dutiful younger sister, enduring all the rigorous training and lectures on tradition he demanded throughout your life. Though you had not been granted the position of Vongola Guardian, you know that Tsuna (and, more importantly, Reborn) respected your strength and abilities. Not once in all these years had you ceased to do whatever you could to serve your family—both blood and figurative. And then the one night you wanted to be someone more than Kyoya Hibari's little sister...

You sucked in your lower lip where it had started to pout. One of your fists pressed into the skin just beneath an eye as a single tear threaten to leak out. Why should you cry? The spiteful part of you wanted to accuse Kyoya of sending you toppling into the drinks on purpose. He hated the thought of you cozying up to anyone related to his sworn enemy, however tangentially. But if you kept thinking that way, you'd never return to the party.

"It would serve him right," you muttered to no one.

But it wouldn't serve Tsuna and Kyoko right. You cared about them. They both deserved to have a blissful engagement celebration without the typical Vongola Family nonsense ruining things as usual. Knowing Kyoko, she wouldn't let the festivities begin until you came back anyway. And yet you couldn't quite bring yourself to make a move to head downstairs. However much you might try to deny it, you did feel fear the same as anyone else.

Still, your fear of embarrassing yourself in front of so many important people in your life could not be allowed to ruin everyone else's evening.

Sighing, you turned back toward the door to your quarters. If you could stomach wrangling Lambo without Futa to help, you could stomach being laughed at for a few hours.

"Why does it take women so long to make themselves look exactly the same?"

That voice drifting up to you froze you to the spot. Your higher brain functions seemed to cease. Did you want to handle this? After a moment or two of mute dithering, you moved back to where you'd been standing to peek hesitantly over the balcony railing. There stood Fran, flat-faced as always.

"Or do you just have identical dresses that look stained?" he asked.

"It's the same dress!" you snapped when your brain finally caught up with your eyes.

"Oh. I wasn't aware that looking that like a drunk dalmatian was so fashionable. I'll have to inform Captain Lussuria."

"Did you only come out here to irritate me?"

"Mah. Not only to irritate you. Your crying jag was getting lengthy."

"I wasn't crying!"

"I suppose having smeared mascara down your cheeks is fashionable now as well."

You inhaled sharply as you lifted a hand to your face. The skin there felt damp. No need to look in the mirror inside to confirm that Fran wasn't making things up.

"I wasn't crying the entire time," you said. "Tell everyone I'll be there soon. I just need to clean myself up a bit, and—"

"Don't bother."

"Huh?"

"Don't bother cleaning up."

"Fran, wine stains and smeared makeup really aren't in style. I'm not going back downstairs looking like this."

"Why even bother going back?"

Your fingers tightened around the railing in front of you. Sometimes you really had to wonder who thought the cosmic joke of you falling for this boy in particular would actually be funny.

"I can't just ditch, Fran. This party is a big deal. Everyone will notice if I don't show up."

"You mean like they noticed when you fell backwards into the drinks?"

"I didn't—"

But you bit your lip hard enough to make it bleed in your rush to clamp your mouth over the end of your sentence. Dutiful sisters did not blame others for their own failures, and neither did full-fledged members of the Vongola Family. You and you alone were ultimately responsible for the whole fiasco. After all, you should have been able to predict that Kyoya and Mukuro would start fighting the minute they laid eyes on one another.

"You do realize they're just going to do that twenty-six more times before the night is over," Fran said, as though he could read your mind—not exactly a comforting thought, all things considered.

"Maybe I should change into pants this time," you conceded.

"You do that. I'm leaving."

And indeed he turned around to do just that. Your heart nearly popped out of your chest.

"W-wait!"

"Why?"

You scrambled for an answer that wouldn't leave you all alone with a sympathetic I-Pin for the duration of the party. "Won't your boss be mad?"

"My boss is always mad," Fran said. "So is Captain Squalo. And Captain Levi. And—"

"Okay. Okay. I get it. Everyone in the Varia needs anger management classes. Duly noted."

"Your brother's already plenty mad, too."

True. Your choice of outfit had already incited Kyoya enough to ensure a thorough dressing down later on, even disregarding your spectacular trip into the wine. Now he'd only be more convinced than ever he had been right, that you had no business dressing up like that even for parties such as this one. And while your brother would never physically strike you in order to punish you, his icy demeanor would likely be enough to make everyone around you miserable for the rest of the night.

So why bother going back? You could always beg Tsuna and Kyoko for forgiveness in the morning. Kyoya would be infuriated regardless of your absence. At least Tsuna had been on the receiving end of Kyoya's tonfa often enough that he would likely be sympathetic to your plight.

"Okay." Your entire body slumped over the railing as you surrendered. Undoubtedly you would regret your choice the next day, but for now, you only felt relieved.

Fran hardly reacted. "Let's get going."

"Hey! I still need to change!"

He looked over his shoulder just far enough to allow you to hear his response: "You can if you want. I'm not hanging around here long enough to get dragged back to that sad excuse for a party."

Fran did not stop. If you really wanted to join him, you needed to move fast. Your body seemed to move of its own accord upon seeing this. Down you swung from the balcony to land neatly on your feet in the shadowed grass. Although the dark stains on your gown still showed through, at least in the darkness of dusk they were more difficult to see. And while you paused to check this, Fran moved ever on ahead. You rushed after him and, in a fit of bravery, grabbed his hand.

He looked at where your fingers interlaced, but said nothing.

This made you feel braver still. You squeezed his palm and asked, "Where are we going?"

He shrugged. "There's not much to do around here anyway."

You opened your mouth to protest this impugning of Namimori's honor when a flash of light and movement in the corner of your eye brought you up short. Of course, your luck would lead you right by one of the ballroom's enormous windows. Standing there and looking straight at you were Tsuna and Kyoko. Your blood ran cold. What would they think of you sneaking off with Fran of all people? The Vongola Family's alliance with the Varia was tenuous at best to begin with! If you did something to break the fragile peace with Xanxus, you shuddered to think what sort of training you'd endure at Reborn's hands in retaliation.

Tsuna smiled, the expression so fleeting you thought you imagined it as he turned to walk away. Kyoko made sure to catch your eye, then she winked and held a single finger up to her lips before she followed her fiancé into the waiting crowd.

You couldn't help gaping after them. It couldn't really be that easy, could it?

A tug on your arm drew you back to your immediate surroundings. You couldn't tell by his face if Fran had spotted the happy couple giving you their blessing. He probably wouldn't care if they had. But when he saw you looking at him again, he said:

"Come on. Show me what's so great about this town. We can deal with your brother and my master some other time."

Waking up and realizing that you don’t even remember falling asleep just to find that Hibari is still settled between your legs and Yamamoto is perched beside you

You’re naked and they might as well be, a thin layer of perspiration adorning all your bodies, the fatigue weighing upon your muscles as you recall what had happened

You had blacked out from your previous orgasm oh I am so sorry

It’s a hot ass day but you nd your loves still wanted to decompress a bit after a long day's work yknow :) Anywayyy let's get back into it

Yamamoto litters your chest with hot, open mouthed kisses; licking and sucking at every bit of exposed skin, one hand intertwined with yours and the other groping and massaging at your soft flesh

Kyoya laps at your drenched little hole, two long fingers drawing themselves in and out of the wet cavern, other hand preoccupied with holding yours (aww)

They’re literally relentless and don’t let up until you’re a mewling and whimpering mess under their spell, the swordsman swallows up the gargled gasp and squeal you let out as you finally reach yet another climax, which the cloud guardian drinks up like a starved man

You decide to take a shower, bc wheew it's hot in here, but they haven’t had their fill yet (ofc)

The soothing water runs down over the three of you, and even when you step out from under it to let Hibari stand directly under the spray, you don’t have to worry about getting cold as your back presses against Yamamoto’s toned chest; The absolute heat radiating from him is astounding, and he's preoccupied with running his hands along your sides and squeezing at your hips

Being the sweetest and most thoughtful significant others, they wait for you to go through with shampooing your hair and applying conditioner, because they have other things in mind for when you have to let your conditioner set

Next thing you know, you’re bent over in the small space, taking Takeshi into your mouth while Hibari rubbed his hardening dick up against your sensitive slit

The sound of the water running only barely masks the labored breathing and husky moans coming from them; Yamamoto weaves his fingers through your wet hair, massaging your scalp and coaxing you to take him as deeply as you could manage

Don’t forget about the other one! :) Hibari finally pushes into your dripping folds and the moan that bubbles from your throat reverberates so deliciously around Takeshi’s cock

Hibari sets a rough pace (bc think about the water bill, besties, chop chop) and grips you by the arms, pulling you back onto him and bottoming out with every thrust

It’s not long after that Yamamoto practically whines that he’s close, and you swallow around him, tongue flattened under the thickness of his heavy cock; With your valiant efforts that, he releases into your eager mouth with a low groan

Even when you graciously accept his seed and raise yourself up to kiss him, Kyoya repositions his grip onto your shoulder and hip so he can fuck you even more fervently

And you can feel yourself getting lightheaded in the heat of the enclosed space, Yamamoto's reassuring caresses in opposition to the way Hibari’s pounding into you from behind

Breathy moans of both their names escape your throat as you frantically find a stable hold on Takeshi's bicep to anchor yourself; Your wetness is mixed with the cloud guardian's fluids and they drip down from where you two are joined, diluted by the spray of water

Your head spins as Hibari's thrusts become more erratic, and your other lover's gaze is burning into you, his pupils blown with lust; You don't have it in you to look at the one behind you, but trust me he's the same way ;)

Just when you feel like you can't take it anymore, the coil that had been winding deep within your belly snaps and you cry out, walls clenching around Kyoya; That throws him over the edge and he spills inside of you, riding out your nth orgasm

You're literally too exhausted to even stand at this point lmao you nearly collapse but Yamamoto catches you dw he's got ya

GIRL WHAT DO YOU MEAN I HIT THE WORD LIMIT IMAJDAKLDFKAS IM??? THIS CAME OUT OF LEFT FIELD AND MADE ME LOSE MY MIND LOLOL BRO Anyway Yamamoto catches you and y’all clean urselves up and you wash all the nasty off and go make dinner :) #casualfridaytingz w/ ur 2 boyfs #slay

At this, your head flew back towards him in surprise, your expression shocked.

You were just met by a look of sheer domineering arrogance, befitting his title of Emperor. Even as blood continued to trickle from the cut your blade managed to leave upon his cheek, he was as prideful as ever as he licked his lips just before snapping his hips right against your bared backside, tearing a silent cry of pleasure from your throat.

Continuing to savor his victory over you, Squalo pressed on with ravaging you further, drilling his cock further into your drooling core with not a thought of mercy in mind. As he watched your body tremble, your arms buckling as you did your best to remain upright, he only smirked as he went on with,

"Clumsy as you are on land, you successfully struck me regardless."

His left hand relinquished its hold on your hip to instead reach for your hair, tugging back at your locks as his lips met your ear with the wicked whisper of, "You better not disappoint me when I take the fight down to your depths, sirena. Indulge me in a swimming race too while you're at it."

Feeling your walls clamp down on his cock upon hearing his words only made his smirk widen.

That witch better give him some shark fins.

Tsuna's got a lot of work to do, running the Vongola, but that doesn't mean he's going to ignore you when you're sick. In fact, you being sick is probably enough of a distraction that he's not going to get that work done anyway--and he's definitely not above using you getting sick as an excuse to get away from his responsibilities for a little while. If it's really something important, of course he'll do it. Otherwise, he's with you all the way. Unfortunately, Tsuna's kind of useless as a caregiver. His heart is in the right place, but he's not entirely sure what to do, and if he tries to do something, it typically winds up spilled all over you. What he can do is that neat trick with his sky flame on his finger on your forehead. When you can't sleep, that's your ticket to dreamland. Except that once he did that, and you slept for two straight days. Everyone was very worried. Reborn congratulated him on sending his S/O into a coma. When you did wake up, you felt much better, but he's reluctant to try it again. Good thing that his company is enough to make you feel a little better most of the time.

Hayato Gokudera

This is the guy that researches every single symptom you have. He's got medical textbooks. He's got WebMD's symptom checker. He's got...books on exorcisms? So not everything he's going to try is necessarily scientifically accurate. And he's not going to let you rest either, because he's got an enormous whiteboard covered in diagrams of all his research. He even wants to dictate the way you sleep, because he's figured out the only way to do it that will actually get you better! And if you don't let him try to get rid of the evil spirits inhabiting you at least once, you're probably going to wake up in the middle of the night surrounded by candles while he stands by the bed chanting. At least the minute Tsuna needs him, he's gone, so you'll get some peace and quiet.

But Gokudera does make some amazing okayu. It's the worst okayu you've ever tasted. At first, you might wonder if Bianchi's the one that made it. But even though it tastes incredibly awful, it does actually make you feel better. it almost makes him playing nurse worth it from time to time.

Ryohei Sasagawa

Ryohei has probably never had a sick day in his entire life. If he had a cold, he just EXTREMED it out of his system, and that's exactly what he expects you to do, too. You can't let the cold win! You have to get up! You have to get up before sunrise! You have to go for a ten-mile run before sunrise! You have to go for a ten-mile run while carrying cinderblocks in both hands before sunrise! Show your illness how EXTREME you are, and you will never be sick again a day in your life! He's not making you do all of this alone. Ryohei is right there with you, doing the exact same thing but with a lot more enthusiasm. It's exausting.

Thankfully, he's got Kyoko around. Once she realizes what's going on, she can rescue you. She knows how to take care of sick people, and she'll get you set up in a nice, dark room with whatever you need, and she and Haru will make sure that you eat healthy and get plenty of rest--because, let's face it, you're probably worse off now than you were before Ryohei got his hands on you. You will live, but it might be a good idea in the future to call in sick to your S/O next time you've got a tickle in your throat.

Lambo

This 15-year-old guy has literally no clue what to do with a sick S/O. Heck, he has literally no clue what to do with himself when he's sick. He's so covered in girls your age anyway, so what are the chances that he notices that you're slogging your way through your day? Well, he does. That doesn't mean he's going to do anything about it...until I-Pin notices as well and chastises him for being so heartless.

And the truth is, he cares about you, and he hates to see you sick. He's not great at doing much more than playing gopher...but, again, he's 15. What else is he supposed to do? So at least for the day he'll get you whatever you want. Chocolate ice cream? Done. Ramen from I-Pin place of work? Absolutely. He consumes half of it, too, and he moans a lot about how gross it is, but ultimately you'd probably be a lot more lonely recuperating by yourself than with him around.

Takeshi Yamamoto

Does Yamamoto even realize you're sick? That is the question. He's known you long enough to know when something's up, but he also trusts you. When you tell him no, you're fine, please just go get beaten up by an Italian man with a sword like he planned, he's not going to argue. Yamamoto knows that you're tough, and if you don't want his help, he's not going to force it on you. He respects you too much to baby you.

On the other hand, on his way home from sparring with Squalo, he's going to pick up a few things. First, he's going to go to the store, and he's going to grab a couple boxes of medicine that sound like they'll help what he thought you sounded like you had that morning. Then he's going to go by his dad's restaurant and pick up a ton of sushi. If you're still not feeling well when he gets home, then he's got you covered. But if you still want to pretend that you're fine, then he just keeps the medicine in his coat pocket for later. He's fine pretending that you're fine if that's what you want. At least there's good food for a quiet night in so you can rest.

Mukuro Rokudo

I mean, as long as he needs you for something, he'll probably care that your sick. Your organs are still in the right place. There's probably not a good way to illusion away your cold and flu symptoms. So if you're fine, he's probably got better things to be doing, like plotting how to finally possess Tsuna and start a war within the mafia!

Oh, what? Really? You want him to say? Well, then, maybe he can put off the whole bloody war within the mafia thing off for another day or two. After all, it's been ten years and he still hasn't got around to it! But hopefully you know that you're in for a lot of getting your own juice bottles, or at least having him torment you about getting your juice bottles until your fever breaks.

Kyoya Hibari

Hibari doesn't get sick, because being sick is weak. But now that he's older, he can appreciate that no one is as strong as he is, so even his S/O is going to get sick from time to time. He is not going to baby you for choosing to be so weak as to catch a cold, however. You probably won't be seeing much of Hibari while you're ill. He's got important business to attend to.

“Why are you doing this?” he mumbled.

His heart, of course, gave no answer. Or maybe it did. Maybe its attempts to tear itself free from his insides were its way of telling him how downright crazy this entire plan was. Whatever the reason, Enma really wished his traitorous organ would stop. This whole situation was hard enough without adrenaline rushing through his veins.

Trying to calm down was a vain effort. Enma knew that. He’d been trying to do whatever that would take since school got out hours ago. How many girls had passed by, giggling because of how weird he looked standing at the gate? How many bullies had come by to exact their “standing” tax?

Maybe that was why his heart was still going crazy. Maybe he was finally running out of blood, and this was its last, desperate attempt to get what was left to the rest of his body before it gave out. Enma supposed that wouldn’t be too bad, really. At least if he was dead he wouldn’t be picked on anymore. He wouldn’t fail any more tests, either. And, for the love of God, he would not have to do what he was planning to do next.

The bag at his side buzzed. His head turned toward it. He blinked before slowly plucking his cell phone from the bag's pocket. Who would be calling him now? It was nearly dark, and the Vongola had no reason to contact him.

“Hello?” he said.

“Enma. Are you all right? It’s late.”

Oh. It was only Adelheid, then. He probably should have known, but Aoba had stolen his phone and changed all the contacts to pictures of himself flipping the camera off, so now Enma had no way to tell who anyone calling him actually was.

“She hasn’t been by.” He stared down the street again. Still no shadows appeared to be growing against the bright red sky. “Maybe she’s not coming.”

“It’s nearly dark. I would say she’s not.”

“She could be working overtime.”

“Enma, just come home. We’ll order more food, and you can talk to her then.”

“I don’t want to say it front of Julie.”

“He’s not going to say anything. If he does, I’ll hit him.”

"I'll wait a little longer.”

“Okay.” This time, her voice sounded a little warmer. “Call me when you’re on your way home.”

“Yeah. Bye.”

“Goodbye.”

He ended the conversation with a simple push of a button. Why hadn’t he taken the out Adelheid offered him? This was her idea to begin with, and Enma was seriously beginning to doubt her understanding of the matter. Her relationship wasn’t really comparable to his. All Julie had to do was grope her every once in a while.

Oh, God, was he going to have to grab your breasts? Did you even have those? It had been so long since he'd seen you that he didn’t remember. And Adelheid usually still slapped Julie when he did that. Enma didn’t really feel like being slapped. 

Was this what hyperventilating felt like? He had never done it before, so he didn’t know.

A rapid tapping came from down the vacant street. Enma looked up. Running down the shadowed walk was a figure moving at a quick pace. He stood straighter. Was it you? It had to be. His hands had started to sweat again. This did not make him feel any less like an idiot. He wiped them on his pants. That only made it worse; now he had wet patches on his legs.

The figure continued to draw nearer. The golden pool of light surrounding him was soon the one they stepped into, bringing their features were placed in high relief. [Color] hair, [color] eyes, waitress uniform. Yes, that was definitely [F Name] [L Name]. It didn’t take the painful lurch in his heart to tell him that much.

The moment of recognition must have been shared because you froze mid-step, one leg stuck awkwardly in the air. Enma reached up to ruffle the back of his head. Now he was completely lost. What was he supposed to do? You were just staring at him like he was a particularly disgusting bug that had fallen directly in your path.

Then your expression hardened. Your normally warm eyes he grown so accustomed to turned more brittle as you smacked your heel back down against the pavement. For a split second, he thought you were going to say something. Instead, you started moving again, your movements now choppy and stiff.

“[Name],” he said as you passed. 

You didn’t even spare him a second glance. 

“[Name]!” 

You did not even so much as twitch in his direction. 

Enma sighed. Now what was he supposed to do? Adelheid hadn’t described her plan past his finally making contact with you. Still, he was not the same boy you had known a year ago. Steeling himself, he moved off the wall and into step beside you. It was only be the grace of God that he didn’t fall flat on his face doing so.

"[Name].”

"What?” He had never heard you speak with that much venom in your voice before, at least not directed at him. He gulped. Maybe this was a dumb idea.

"I need to talk to you.”

“I’m in the middle of a delivery.”

“I know. It's for me.”

Thankfully, this was enough to get your attention. Once again, you stopped completely, though at least this time you remembered to put you foot down. Your mouth fell open in an “o.” Then you narrowed your eyes.

“What do you mean, it’s for you?” you asked.

“I ordered it. Can I have it, please?”

“No! I’m not giving you anything!”

“I’m going to pay for it.”

You continued to watch him for a few more seconds, then tossed the container at his head. Enma flailed. The box knocked straight into his temple before falling open on the ground. 

“Fine, then!" you snapped. "Eat it! See if I care!”

“Thank you,” Enma murmured. 

He bent down to retrieve the contents of whatever food he had asked for. He was so nervous that he didn’t remember, nor did he think he’d actually be able to stomach it if he tried. If he remembered correctly, most girls didn’t think it was cool when boys threw up their food. Once he had the scattered contents all gathered, he rummaged in his pocket until he found the wad of cash he had stuffed in it that morning–more than enough for both his food and a decent tip for you. 

“Your money." He held it out to you.

You said nothing as you snatched the cash out of his hand. And then you stood there. And continued standing there. Apparently you were intending to watch him eat the food. 

Groaning inwardly, Enma picked up the chopsticks and dug in without looking at what he was digging into. It was probably good, but he didn’t get to taste much before he started to choke. Seemingly satisfied with this development, you hopped on the wall and crossed your legs, the better to see him.

“Why’d you order from there anyway? Thought I didn’t work there anymore?” you asked.

“N-No,” Enma stammered. He was still coughing up bits of rice. “I needed to talk to you.”

“So you ordered food from my workplace?”

“It was the only way I could talk to you. You were avoiding me.”

“Because I didn’t want to talk to you.”

“Right.” 

Enma gazed forlornly at his eating utensils. Why had he done this? Of course you didn’t want to talk to him. After what he did…The look of betrayal on your face as you stood there with the rest of your family, the way your eyes seemed to grow dim as you watched him mutilate your friends…His gut clenched every time he thought of it. Who was he kidding with this? You weren't going to want to hear him out. You didn’t even want to be his friend anymore.

He took a deep breath and looked up toward you. It looked like he was still Loser Enma after all. What he realized, however, was that you were no longer looking away. Instead you had the full force of your glare on him. He flinched.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.

There could be a million things he hadn’t told you that you were asking about, each a worse secret than the one before. But Enma thought he had a pretty good idea what you were talking about. 

“I didn’t want you to get hurt,” he said.

“And why would I get hurt?”

He licked his lips. “My family…what we were doing…”

“Yeah, it was pretty stupid,” you snarled. “And thank you so much for showing such faith in me.”

“I didn’t want you to tell Tsuna. It was important. What if you said something and they found out?

You snapped straight up. Enma stumbled backward, managing to stay on his feet but spill what was left of his meal. This did nothing to stop you. In one easy movement, you jumped off the ledge, landed on your feet, and marched up to him. For a moment, all you did was look into his eyes. Then you launched yourself forward and started trying to smack every bit of him you could reach.

“Are you kidding me?" You all but shrieked. "I thought you trusted me! I thought I was your friend!”

“Ouch. [Name]. Stop." 

Your punches, if anything, merely increased in number. Enma groaned. What would Aoba and Julie say if they saw him now? Probably something along the lines of “You’re totally whipped!” Without thinking, he grabbed your wrists. You sucked in a breath. He supposed he had surprised you. The him of a year ago wouldn’t have tried to defend himself at all. One split second later, however, and you were back on the offense.

“You.” You tugged. “Are.” You tugged harder still. “Such a jerk, Enma Kozato!” You arched backward as far as you could. Still he did not let you go.

“I know," he said. "I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t good enough! I don’t care what you have to say to me. Just go away!”

Enma took a deep breath. Now was good as ever. He didn’t think you were going to let him stick around much longer anyway. “I think I love you.”

The anger drained slowly from your face. Feeling that it might be safe to let you go, Enma released your wrists at last. He stuffed his now-free hands into his pockets and stared at his feet. The silence stretched on for several more minutes, and then there was a sudden whoosh and the sound of flesh meeting flesh.

Enma’s eyes went wide. The sound of the slap echoed in the empty road.

“That’s for avoiding me for a year!” When he looked up, you were rubbing at your wrist and scowling. “Did you think I was going to yell at you?”

“Well, you’re doing a good job of it now,” he said as he pressed his palm against his stinging cheek.

“Because, Enma, you are an idiot.” You scowled at him again, then whirled on your heel and marched over to your delivery box. Without looking at him, you continued, but he noticed your voice was quavering a bit when you spoke: “If you’re just going to say empty words, then you can leave me alone. For good this time.”

“They weren't empty.” he mumbled at the ground. Enma thought that maybe he heard you pause before going on your way. “I won’t bother you anymore.”

Before you could answer–if you were going to answer, which he didn’t believe could be true at all–he started shuffling away. He didn’t get far before he managed to trip and crash face-first into the sidewalk. A sickening crunch sound coming from his nose told Enma that he had just seriously screwed up. Perhaps it would be best if he just stayed there in the dirt until you left. He didn’t want the last thing you saw of him to be the blood spilling profusely from his face.

“Enma? Are you okay?” 

Oh, crud, you were standing right above him. He craned his neck so he could see, trying to make sure you couldn’t get a look at the newest disfigurement on his face. You knelt down next to him and then dragged him to his feet.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

You frowned. “No, I will worry about it. Sit down.” 

You pushed down on his shoulder and Enma obeyed without thinking. What were you doing? Why were you still talking to him? Hadn’t you already left, glad to have him out of your life? While he was pondering all of this, you were digging around in your own bag. A few moments later, you pulled out a first aid kit. 

Enma leaned back. “You don’t have t–”

“Yes, I do.” 

Enma fell silent as you began to work on him. It almost felt like old times, except for the part where the girl he was in love with hated him. He could probably do without that. Well, that and the broken nose.

“Hold still. I’m going to set it. It’ll hurt.” 

He braced himself. Sure enough, you pressed your fingers onto both side of his nose and pushed. There was a loud pop and pain streamed into his face. Enma lifted his hand to feel his nose.

“Why did you…?”

“Did you mean it when you said you loved me?” you asked.

“Y-yes.” Did you find him terribly stupid? Were you going to laugh at him? 

You turned, face hidden as you placed your kit back in your bag. “Then why didn’t you talk to me for so long?”

“I was afraid you hated me. I didn’t want that.”

“I didn’t. I just wanted to hear from you. When I called and you didn’t answer…” You trailed off. He could see your eyes again. They were filling with tears. “I thought we were friends.”

“You’re my best friend, [Nickname].”

"It doesn’t feel like it.”

Enma stared at you. You looked away and dabbed at your eyes with your sleeve. “I’m sorry.” 

You didn’t answer. 

His eyes darted about the street. What he was about to do was risky, but maybe it would work out? Maybe this time he could actually do it. Maybe this time he wouldn’t be a loser. “[Name].”

You looked back. He shifted his bag so it was behind him, then opened his arms. You gawked at him, and he lifted them slightly. For a few more seconds, you did not move. Another flurry of anxiety rushed through him. Was he being dumb? Should he put his arms down? Were you just going to hit him again?

You blinked back another set of tears. Then you leaped forward and threw yourself into his arms. Enma closed them around you, shut his eyes, and buried his face into your soft hair.

“I love you, [Name]. Can I try again?”

“Only if you promise,” you sniffed, “to never lie to me again.”

Enma smiled. “I promise.”