That got the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

He stood without warning, hauling you up with him, and you stumbled into his chest with a surprised laugh. The room went dead silent seeing this, as every Varia officer suddenly found something fascinating to stare at on the far wall.

He walked and you kept up only because his hand hadn't left your neck, steering you through the corridor, up the stairs, all the way to the heavy oak door of your shared quarters before he shouldered it open.

You grabbed his tie before he could deposit you and turn around and yanked him forward, although he barely moved as his eyes dropped to your face.

"Stay~" you giggled.

"I wasn't leaving." he lied.

"You were going to go back down there and brood in your chair for another three hours." You pulled the tie again, walking backward, drawing him in. "I know you."

He kicked the door shut behind him and the lock clicked.

"Yeah." His voice was low, stripped of its usual bite. He looked at you standing there flushed and stubborn in the low light. "You do."

His mouth found yours before you could say another word.

TYL!Superbia Squalo

"VOOOIII! How many of those have you had?!"

You held up four fingers. Then reconsidered, and held up five.

"Oh, for fucks--sit down before you fall down!" Squalo grabbed your elbow as you swayed on the barstool, silver hair swinging as he whipped around to glare at the bartender. "Who kept serving her?!"

The bartender, a civilian contractor who clearly had not signed up for Varia-adjacent terror, went pale and backed into the liquor shelf.

"Squalo." You tugged on his sleeve. Then tugged harder. "Squalooooo."

"WHAT."

"You look really pretty tonight~♥" you curled a lock of his hair around your finger.

That shut him up for approximately one and a half seconds before he looked away from you to hide any evidence of a blush. "You're drunk."

"Drunk and correct." You leaned your full weight against him, arms looping around his waist, face buried in his chest. He stiffened, not because he minded, you'd been married long enough to know that, but because half the Varia was watching with open glee.

"Get off me. We're in public."

"No."

"That wasn't a request!"

"Carry me upstairs and maybe I'll let go." you grinned.

"I'm not--you can't just... dammit, FINE." He ducked down, got an arm under your knees, and swept you up like your weight wasn't a factor. You shrieked with delight as he stormed toward the staircase, face burning red, bellowing at anyone who so much as glanced their direction.

"EYES FORWARD OR I'LL CUT THEM OUT OF YOUR SKULLS."

He kicked open the bedroom door and set you on the bed with more care than his expression suggested. You kept your arms locked around his neck.

"Let go."

"Come here."

"I just carried you here, woman, what more do you--"

You kissed him. Messily and off-center, tasting like cheap prosecco. He made a strangled noise against your mouth and braced one knee on the mattress, his free hand fisting in the sheets beside your hip.

When you pulled back, he was breathing hard. That pretty face his flushed all the way to his ears.

"Door's still open," you whispered.

He walked back a few steps and slammed it so hard the frame cracked.

"Happy?"

"Getting there." You pulled him down again and he went down willingly this time.

TYL!Belphegor

"Ushishishi."

That laugh had been following you for the last twenty minutes. You sat at the end of the banquet table with your chin in your hand, cheeks hot, fourth cocktail mostly gone, and made a point of not looking at him.

"The princess is sulking."

"The princess wants to leave." You pushed the glass away and finally turned. Belphegor leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, crown tilted, grin already in place.

"Bel, I'm tired. Take me upstairs." you offered your hand towards his.

"Hmm. Ask properly."

You narrowed your eyes. "I'm your wife, dipshit."

"And I'm a prince." He tilted his head, blond hair shifting. "Rank supersedes marriage. Those are the rules." he shrugged.

"Those are your rules."

"Ushishi. Exactly."

You stood up, wobbled, and caught yourself on the table. His grin didn't waver, but he was beside you in two strides. A knife appeared between his fingers out of nowhere, flipping idly as he offered you his other arm.

"The prince will escort you. Since you're clearly incapable of walking in a straight line."

"How romantic."

"Royalty doesn't do romance. Royalty does obligation." But his hand settled on the curve of your waist as you walked, thumb tracing a slow circle against your hip through the fabric. The corridor stretched long and dim and his boots clicked an easy rhythm beside yours.

He opened the bedroom door and you turned, grabbing the front of his shirt, pulling him across the threshold.

His grin stretched wider. "Oh?"

"Get in here."

"The princess is bold tonight." He let himself be pulled, one step, two, until the door clicked shut and his back was against it. You pressed all of your weight against his lean frame and his chin dipped. Even behind that curtain of hair, you could feel his gaze on you.

"Tell me what you want." His voice dropped, the laugh finally absent from it. "Be specific."

"You. Now. Consider it another one your obligations."

He reached behind him and locked the door.

"Ushishi. Granted."

TYL!Dino Cavallone

You were leaning sideways on the couch when Dino found you, and his reaction was as predictable as the sunrise.

"Oh. Oh no, honey, how much did you--here, don't lean like that, you'll fall off the--ack!" He tripped over the coffee table reaching for you.

The head of the Cavallone family, beloved by many, undone by furniture yet again. Romario, standing by the doorway, pinched the bridge of his nose and looked away.

"Dino~" You reached for him as he caught himself on the armrest. "Dino, I want to go to bed."

"Yeah, okay, that's probably a good idea." He straightened up and pushed his hair back, that apologetic smile already forming. "Can you stand? Here, take my arm."

You took his arm. You also took the opportunity to lean your entire body into him, cheek against his shoulder, arms wrapping around his.

"Sorry," you mumbled into his jacket.

"For what? You're allowed to have fun." He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as he guided you toward the hallway. His stride slowed to match yours, patient with every uneven step as he looked back. "Romario, we're done for the night."

"Of course, Boss."

The walk upstairs took twice as long as it should have. You kept stopping to nuzzle into his neck, and he kept laughing though flustered, gently steering you forward.

He got the door open with one hand and walked you to the edge of the bed. "Okay, let me get you some water and--"

You grabbed his jacket and pulled causing him to stumble forward with a surprised yelp as he catched himself over you, one hand on the mattress, the other on your hip.

"Stay."

"I was just going to get you--

"Dino." You looked up at him, flushed, stubborn, still holding his collar. "I don't want water, I want you."

His ears went red and his smile became less composed. He exhaled, long and slow, and let his forehead rest against yours.

"You should really have some water..."

"I will, after we're done."

He sighed. "I suppose that's as close to a compromise as I can hope for."

TYL!Byakuran

He had been watching you all night as you finished your sixth marshmallow cocktail, which was his fault as he had them made specially, and the room was doing a gentle spin.

"Bya... kuran." you slurred.

"Hm?" He appeared beside you with half-eaten bag of marshmallows in his hand.

It was midnight at a Millefiore gala and the man was snacking on sugar.

"I'm calling it."

"Already? But the party is so fun." He popped another marshmallow into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "You haven't even tried the cake yet."

"If I try the cake, I will fall over."

"I'd catch you."

"Yeah, after my face falls into it... And after laughing on top of that." you murmured, smacking his shoulder lightly.

His smile widened a fraction. "Maybe. Maybe not. You'll never know unless you do it." He offered you a marshmallow and pouted when you pushed his hand away.

"Take me to our room. Please."

"Since you asked so nicely." He set down the bag, licked sugar off his thumb, and offered you his arm.

The hallways of the estate were empty. Your heels clicked unevenly and he matched your pace without comment, humming something tuneless as you leaned into him.

He opened the bedroom door and you stepped through, turned, grabbed the front of his shirt with both fists, and hauled him inside.

His eyebrows lifted. The smile stayed, but something behind it sharpened. "Oh my~"

"Shut the door."

"It's already shut. Didn't you notice?" He looked down at your hands on his shirt, then at your face. "You're flushed."

"I'm tipsy."

"You're also pretty."

That stalled you for a second. He used it and stepped forward, closing the gap until your back met the edge of the dresser.

"What do you want?" he asked, and for once the playfulness thinned out, leaving just the question and his eyes on you.

"You. Without the audience."

"Done." He kissed the corner of your mouth first, almost delicate, then caught your lips fully, and the taste of marshmallow dissolved into something much better.

TYL!Gamma

You glared at your empty glass for past ten minutes but Gamma had only noticed four minutes ago from across the room. You knew because he lit a fresh cigarette, which was what he did when he was deciding whether to intervene.

Intervention arrived in the form of a hand on your shoulder and a flat voice above your head.

"Okay, time to go."

"I'm fine." you insisted, swatting his hand off.

"You've been staring at that glass like it insulted you. You're done." He took it from your hand and set it on the bar without looking. "Up."

"You're so bossy."

"You married bossy. Let's move."

You stood, and the floor tilted. His arm came around your waist instantly, pulling you against his side. He didn't make a production of it, he just adjusted his grip and started walking.

The cigarette stayed between his lips as he navigated you through the thinning crowd. Stairs. Hallway. Door. He fished the key out with one hand, the other still anchored on you, and shouldered it open.

"Bed. Water on the nightstand. I'll be back after I finish--"

You grabbed his sleeve and he stopped. The cigarette bobbed.

"Come inside." you asked.

"I need to check the perimeter for--"

"Gamma." You pulled harder, stepping backward into the room. "The perimeter can wait."

He looked at you. Looked at the steel grip you had on him, took the cigarette from his mouth, crushed it in the hallway ashtray without breaking eye contact, and stepped inside.

The door closed and locked as he stood there, back straight, watching you closely.

"You planned this." he realized.

"I had four drinks and an impulse. That's not a plan."

The ghost of a smile appeared and vanished as he crossed the room and caught your jaw in one hand, tilting your face up.

"Impulse, huh." His voice was low and close. "Lucky me."

Reborn (Adult Form)

You switched from wine to whiskey an hour ago and that had been a tactical error on your part. The jazz club was winding down, smoke curling under low amber lights, and you were propped against the bar with your lower lip pushed out.

"That face isn't going to work on me."

You pushed it out further.

Reborn stood beside you in a black suit, espresso in hand even though it was midnight and regarded you with the calm appraisal of a man who had never once been outmaneuvered by anyone, least of all his own wife.

"I want to leave." you requested.

"Then leave."

"With you, Reborn."

"Ah." He took a sip. "You could have led with that."

"I could have--But I'm four whiskeys in which have compromised my communication skills"

He set the cup down and adjusted his fedora as his eyes traveled from your flushed face to the way your dress curved over your hips.

"Compromised," he repeated. "That's one word for it."

"Are you going to help me or just stand there being handsome and unhelpful?"

"I can do both." But he offered his arm, and when you took it, he pulled you close, hand resting on the full curve of your waist. He walked you out without a word to anyone.

The hotel corridor was quiet. He unlocked the door, held it open, and you grabbed the lapel of his suit jacket and yanked him through.

One eyebrow rose. The fedora tilted.

"Bold."

"You like bold."

"I like competent. Bold is a bonus." He pushed you against the now-closed door and leaned down with his mouth hovering just above yours, close enough that you could smell espresso and gunpowder.

"Hm, you're still pouting," he murmured.

"Fix that then."

The corner of his mouth curved. "Yes, ma'am."

Fon (Adult Form)

The tea house had been converted for the reception with paper lanterns strung between wooden beams and low tables crowded with guests.

You miscounted your cups of sake, which easy to do when they were so small and kept getting refilled, and now you sat with both hands around an empty cup, cheeks burning, quietly refusing to admit you overdid it.

Fon knelt beside you with a soft smile.

"You're rather flushed."

"It's the lanterns. They're very... warm-colored."

"The lanterns." He smiled fondly, not wanting to tease you intentionally. "Of course."

You turned the cup over in your hands. "I think... I'd like to go to bed, if that's okay."

"Of course, let us go then." He rose and offered both hands to help you stand.

You took them and he drew you upward, absorbing your unsteadiness like a current as you wobbled.

"Lean on me if you'd like."

"I... don't want to be an inconvenience." you hesitated.

"You are my wife." He said it as though that answered every possible objection. His arm came around your back and you pressed into him, your head finding the curve of his shoulder.

He guided you through the corridor with unhurried steps. The night air came through the open screens, cool against your skin as his thumb traced a slow line along your shoulder as you walked, rhythmic as breathing.

The bedroom door slid open under his hand and stepped aside to let you through. You took his hand and softly pulled him in with you.

He followed your lead without any resistance and slid the door shut behind him with his free hand while his other hand held yours tighter.

"You've been patient all evening," you said.

"I'm always patient."

"I know. But I'm not." You squeezed your hand lightly in his hold. "Please stay with me."

He studied your face for a long, quiet moment. Then he raised one hand and brushed the hair from your temple, fingertips trailing down to your jaw, tilting your chin up.

"I believe you may have missed it when I implied..." he trailed for a moment. "That I was coming with you, not simply dropping you off."

Colonnello (Adult Form)

The military fundraiser had free beer. That was their mistake. Your mistake was trying to keep pace with a man who spent years drinking with soldiers, which meant by your sixth bottle you were gone and he was merely cheerful.

"Kora! You look like you're about to slide off that chair."

"I am fine."

"Says the one who put the wrong name on the raffle ticket twenty minutes ago."

"...That was a stylistic choice, in case anyone else had the same name."

Colonnello laughed as he leaned back in his chair. His dress shirt was rolled to the elbows, with his blond hair pushed off his face, looking like the kind of man recruitment posters wished they could manufacture.

You set your bottle down with both hands and looked at him dead on. "Take me home Nello."

"We're staying upstairs. Hotel, remember?"

"Then take me upstairs." you corrected.

"Can you walk?"

"Colonnello."

"It's a real question, kora! Last time you said you could walk after drinking and you zigzagged into a coat rack and almost took out a waiter."

"That coat rack was in a stupid location."

He grinned, stood, and crouched with his back to you. "Hop on."

"You're not serious."

"Yep.--Hop on."

You climbed onto his back because you knew there was no point arguing at this point.

His hands hooked under your thighs and stood with ease as you locked your arms around his neck, and he carried you through the lobby at a stride that suggested he could do this up a mountain in full gear.

Which he had done to prove a point, hence your lack of arguing this time around.

"You good up there?"

"You smell like beer."

"So do you, kora. We match!"

He took the stairs even though the elevator was right there definitely to show off to you and shouldered open the hotel room door once the two of you reached it.

He bent to let you slide off onto the bed but you didn't release your arms.

"Kora, you gotta let go so I can--"

"Nope." You pulled, hard, and he toppled back onto the mattress with you. He let out a surprised bark of laughter, catching himself and rolling over to be above you and your legs hooked around his waist.

"Oh," he said, grin shifting into something more focused. "That's how it is."

"That's how it is." you repeated.

"Good. I was hoping you'd say that, kora."

He kissed you as though this was another point he intended to prove, and honestly, you were happy to let him.

Skull (Adult Form)

"Nobody at this table has said a single nice thing to me all night. Not one!" This complaint had been broadcasted approximately nine times in two hours.

The other guests, a scattered collection of underground figures who stopped registering his existence around complaint three, carried on without blinking.

You rubbed your temples. Six cocktails. You had six cocktails because listening to your husband campaign for acknowledgment required chemical reinforcement.

"Skull."

"I pulled off a triple backflip on a motorcycle last week. Triple! Do you know how many people can do that!? Me, I can! And did anyone here even--"

"Skull."

He turned, eyeliner smudged from an earlier dramatic episode you mercifully missed during a bathroom break, and his face toggled from grievance to full undivided attention in half a second.

"What's wrong? Are you okay? You look flushed. Are you sick? Do you need air? Should I get--"

"I want to go to our room. Now, before I dissolve into this chair."

Everything about him changed in that moment. His shoulders set back with his chin lifted. It was the posture he pulled out whenever he was handed a mission he could actually complete without getting drop-kicked across the venue by a former colleague.

"Done! I've got this, come on." He rounded the table and offered his hand with a flourish that was absurd yet completely sincere. You grabbed it, pulled yourself up, and leaned against him.

He stumbled a half-step but caught you properly on the second try.

"I've got you. Okay? Right here. Not going anywhere."

He steered you through the crowd with his arm locked around your waist, shooting looks at anyone who glanced your direction, expressions he clearly believed were threatening. They were not.

After a side quest of going to the wrong floor, and going down the wrong hallway, he finally got the two of you to your hotel room. He fumbled with the keycard twice before the green light clicked, and by then you were already fisting the collar of his jacket.

"Wait at least let me get the--"

"Inside. Now." You hauled him through the doorway and he yelped, tripping over the threshold, catching himself against you as the door swung shut behind him.

"You--right now? You actually want--"

"We are literally married Skull."

His face went red from the piercings down. All that restless bravado condensed into something more controlled.

"Y-Yeah." His voice cracked once. He steadied it. "Yeah. We are."

Then he kissed you like he still couldn't believe his luck, and you kissed him back until he believed it.

Black Widow s/o

Sawada Tsunayoshi

🔥​A spy. A danger. A potential threat that has to be disposed of. All opinions which not all but definitely some members of the mafia harbor when it comes to you. All worries which Tsuna is able to understand from their perspective. After all you are the woman who infiltrated the deepest ranks of the mafia and managed to fool almost everyone- and sadly that includes him. It's still unclear how much of it was you playing the part you needed to in order to gain your trust and how much of it was real. You wear your masks like others wear their skin as even he has troubles seeing through you. The fact remains that Tsunayoshi still loves you and wants to believe that you are more than others believe you to be. Some of his own guardians believe his emotions to cloud his judgement and perhaps that is true but the extent of his love goes further than most within the mafia may realise. Tsuna cannot afford to let you go. As you pose a threat to the organisation though he still has to take certain measurements to ensure that you leak no information out. So he finds himself locking you away with constant security on you as he will not underestimate your skills to escape.

🔥​Obviously he is hurt by the fact that you have played with his emotions. However, he refuses to believe that you didn't at least feel something for him too. Not because he is delusional but because he sometimes noticed the switch in your mask when you couldn't pretend for a moment. As a man with contacts and significant influence eventually he is able to get his hands on information on you. Most of it is fake as you have left false traces everywhere of identities you slipped into long before you sought out him. Only little of it is real but what few pieces are not fake are enough for Tsunayoshi to get a blurry picture of what you went through. Reborn might have been tough on him but comparing it to the training you went through makes it look like a childplay. You don't have to choose that path anymore. Despite the advice of some of his guardians he offers you a new life in the mafia. One where you do not have to stain your hands in blood anymore. It's a kind offer. Perhaps more kindness than you think you deserve after all you have done. It is only slightly tainted by the fact that you know that you will be kept by his side, either locked away or by being secretly watched over forever.

Gokudera Hayato

🧨Hayato is heartbroken when he finds out what your true identity really is. Despite his short fuse and explosive temper, he has been helplessly in love with you almost immediately from the moment he met you. Now he finds out that everything you ever told him has been a lie and even worse is that now there is the question of whether or not you used him to lure information out of him. Denial is the first stage of grief though and even with all of the evidence Tsunayoshi presents him with, he refuses to believe it. Yet he seeks you out almost immediately as rationality is thrown out of the window. He needs answers. He needs to hear it that even if everything else was a lie, your love for him wasn't. You've already been apprehended by the mafia though you appear as composed as ever and do not respond to interrogation. You deny, you lie and you show no sign of intimidation. Then Hayato approaches you though and just for a moment he imagines that there is a flicker of regret on your face before it all vanishes behind a perfectly neutral face. He's begging for you to tell him that at least what you two had wasn't just a game to you. You hesitate for a brief second before you tell him that you used him.

🧨His pride is in pieces. His heart even more. Hayato swears the first night alone that he won't ever see you again yet the next day he visits you in your cell- a fool unable to stay away. Most of the time he spends yelling at you. Then he begins to retell everything the both of you did as if still hoping that he will catch you in a lie. His affection has not diminished in the slightest though as he lashes out if someone talks badly about you or treats you cruelly. Still, he cannot trust you either as he is terrified of you using him to escape. Yet he still begs Tsunayoshi for mercy in regards to you and to his relief his old friend has no intention of murdering you in cold blood. Precisely because you expect it to happen. Hayato on the other hand spends sleepless nights going through files of many of your fake identities, trying to discern truth from lie. He visits you daily, dark bruises under his eyes from a lack of sleep yet still unable to go a day without visiting you. He doesn't believe that you're a bad person in spite of all the information he has about assassinations you are responsible for. He believes he can help you. He's going to help you. Perhaps his desperation is fuelling him to be delusional now.

Yamamoto Takeshi

💧​Technically both of you are supposed to be enemies as both of you are after the same thing. In fact you backstab him the moment you have fooled him into trusting you and he has let his guard down. The fight that follows takes energy out of the both of you. Yamamoto holds back though, taking more hits than inflicting them as he refuses to harm you. That optimism of his is going to get him killed as he is of the firm belief that you aren't just an assassin as you insist you are until he throws his katana away. It's foolish and naive and it would be too easy to put a bullet in his head right then and there. Only that the look in his eyes is just about enough to kill whatever is left of your heart. So instead you knock him merely out before you take what you came for and spare his life. Gokudera gives him hell for not only failing to retrieve the object but also for letting you go and allowing himself to be beaten up like this from you. Tsunayoshi seems to hold a quiet understanding though, perhaps because he deep down knows that Yamamoto has developed feelings for you during the undercover mission. Convinced that you have been forced into a life you do not wish for, he starts searching for you.

💧​It's far from easy of course. Catching you is like trying to chase after smoke. Almost impossible to catch and if he wouldn't be such a stubborn and persistent man and you wouldn't have secretly developed a soft spot for him, you would have been able to evade him for longer. Yet you let him catch you as you are still unable to understand how he could have thrown his sword willingly away during a fight even though he didn't know whether or not you would spare him or not. In fact you insult him for being so naive and trusting as you wouldn't trust yourself. Takeshi though believes in the good of you and he believes that he can help. His suspicion that deep down you do not wish to be used as a weapon anymore and kill people even though you have been trained to do so is correct. If you ever admit that to him though, he is going to develop a foolish savior complex which is going to lead him down a path of chasing after you and trying to save you from those who command you as well as yourself. He's pushing too hard and trusts you too much. All of it deep down overwhelms you as you genuinely start to fear he'll wind up dead all because he wants to help you.

Hibari Kyoya

🐤​Solitary and fiercely independent by nature, your betrayal is the closest thing to a heartbreak that Kyoya has ever felt. Getting close to him proves to be difficult and fooling him is something he has up until now believed to be impossible. Yet you seduced him, played him for a fool and actually managed to outsmart him when he found out that you stole important information from the mafia. He's adamant when he orders Tsunayoshi and all other guardiand to stay away from you. If there is going to be someone who is going to punish you, it is going to be him and no one else. So Kyoya embarks on a journey as he tries to track you down. It's a hunt that takes him all over the world yet you constantly manage to escape his grip, only adding to his silent fury. Worst of all is that despite you having made an idiot out of him, a part of him still loves you. As much as he tries to ignore those feelings, they refuse to die and so he always hesitates when he considers what to do with you the moment he catches you. He despises that he admires you as he acknowledges you as a strong opponent he needs to fight. Eventually he arrives at the conclusion that he is going to tame you though.

🐤​Whenever he does manage to catch up to you, he immediately attacks you. Both of you constantly clash. Bullets fly, kicks and punches are distributed and he mercilessly attacks you with his Tonfas and is everything but happy when you manage to steal them from him in the middle of a fight and wield them expertly. He doesn't go easy on you and neither do you. Bruises litter his skin after every fight as he ignores the broken ribs and shot wounds he received. He refuses to elaborate what happened even when he begrudgingly seeks medical help but after each fight that always ends in a draw with you managing to run away again, he only gets more brutal the next time. Deep down Kyoya is almost thrilled nowadays. The chase excites him and he looks forward to fighting you the next time. He trains harder, he analyses your fight patterns and he actually starts thinking before attacking. His original goal hasn't changed though. One day he will have full domination over you. He hates the people who have control over you whilst seeking the same thing- controlling you. He recognises that it won't be easy but he won't back down either. You will obey and pay for the humiliation you put him through.

Rokudo Mukuro

🌫️​Mukuro initially isn't interested in you. He cares little for people around him as his apathetic nature makes him feel indifferent to the suffering of others. It is only after you managed to break free from his illusions and nearly broke his jaw that he starts getting hyperfixated on you. He's an expert when it comes to fooling others due to his ability to create illusions yet somehow he was not able to manipulate you. That is a rare feat and establishes you as a threat in his eyes immediately. As if to add insult to injury though, when he tries to track you down you are gone. That identity of yours? Fake. The illusionist has been fooled by a not so ordinary woman and that is when it gets really personal for Mukuro. He hates being on the receiving end of being manipulated and fooled- all which you have managed. His obsession starts as revenge. His ego has been wounded and he needs to fix that by tracking you down, tearing down your walls and revealing you for who you truly are before breaking you down. He needs to break you and outsmart you to prove to everyone- even himself- that he is always the one able to checkmate everyone else.

🌫️​Eventually an obsession for vengeance turns into something more. The lines are incredibly blurry after all. Mukuro cruelly tortures anyone for information on you and the more he figures out about your past, the more he starts to consider keeping you. Maybe it is out of a twisted sense of kinship as he knows what it's like to be experimented on or maybe it's because he realises that someone with your skills would be a useful toy for him to have. There is in either case no sympathy shown for the struggles of your past as all of it is instead used against you to torture you only more. Whatever weakness Mukuro can use to shatter your composure, he will hold against you. He's crueller than anyone you will ever meet but he cares little for what others think of him. For now he is fixated on taking revenge on you by torturing you and breaking you. Even if he does break you though, he has decided to keep you. After all the trouble he went through to chase after you, he deserves to keep you as a living trophy. Why are you even fighting to begin with? You could never be a good person after all the people you killed. All you're good for is following orders. Only that from now on you will obey him.

Xanxus

⚫​Would you look at that? The boss of the Varia clashing with one of the greatest spies and assassins in the world. What are the chances? Even amongst the ranks of the Vongola you have always been more of a legend even though nothing about you has ever been known. But you indeed prove yourself to be worthy of every bit of your reputation when you manage to fool Xanxus of all people. By far one of the more difficult tasks you have ever done as Xanxus is arrogant, cruel and rarely allows any softness even to his own subordinates. Yet through months of patience you slowly wear him down until the impossible happens. He actually develops feelings but denies it. Love means softness and softness equals weakness in his mind. Such a shame that he wrestles so much with himself as you know how to use that hesitance to your advantage to sneak into his room and retrieve important information about the Varia and its members. By the time Xanxus finds out, you're already gone. He locks himself away in his room before he lets his wrath take over. Furniture is shattered, walls are cracked due to his punches and as soon as he is done he rips the door out of its hinges. There is only one thing on his mind. Revenge.

⚫​You're scum. Scum has to die. Especially scum that betrayed him. The mere mention of your name can lead to him potentially being triggered and so all other members of the squad learn to only ever mention you in passing. Yet despite all the insults and the violence Xanxus swears to use against you, his feelings stay alive. No matter how much he tries to force them to disappear, they are persistent and only madden him more. Eventually he finds you as violence and intimidation gets you far. He doesn't even give you time to say anything as he starts attacking you the moment he spots you. Wrath and betrayal run deep after all as he mercilessly starts to assault you whilst the other members just watch. However, he cannot bring himself to deliver the final punch. It would be easy as you do not have the access to Dying Will Flames like he does yet he never pulls the trigger even whilst you stare at him without an ounce of fear. Death has always been part of your job after all. He likes to blame it on the lack of fear rather than his own lingering obsession which ultimately leads him to imprison you rather than finish you like he swore he would. He wants you to suffer after all.

Reborn

🔫​Reborn knows you're hiding something the first time he bumps into you. You know he's hiding something the first time you bump into him. Call it the intuition of two people who are the best at what they are doing. Yet despite having an inkling that you are more than you pretend to be, Reborn still decides to engage with you. Something about you fascinates him beyond words as he feels weirdly drawn to you and you might just feel the same. So both of you start a dance around each other, trying to pull the other closer without exposing anything about yourselves. He must say though, you know how to charm your way into a man's heart and luckily he knows how to charm his way into a heart like yours too. All disguises eventually disappear though and that moment comes when it turns out that both of you are after the same person. Still, even as you raise your gun at him Reborn isn't any less charmed. In fact he considers it to be the luckiest and coincidence. What are the chances of the world's best hitman and the world's best assassin to find each other after all? You honestly don't know if he is fighting or flirting with you when both of you start coming at each other.

♡ He keeps one of your hair ties around his wrist, tucked under the sleeve of his jacket. You left it on a nightstand once, and he has never given it back.

♡ He speaks softly to you. Not quiet. Raspy, low murmur like you're so fragile and breakable. It stuns you so much, especially when it follows after he has been barking orders at his subordinates.

♡ He strokes your hair when you fall asleep on him. Threads his fingers delicately - as much as someone like him can be delicate - not to wake you.

♡ He doesn't anyone touch your gifts. If you give something - even small - it goes to his personal quarters, untouched and guarded like a treasure vault. You think you can gift him a bead bracelet and he still would treat it like a jewelry.

♡ He doesn't say your name often. But when he does, when they are alone with their naked souls - it sounds low and thick with unspoken emotion and reverence. Spoken like a prayer on a broken man's lips.

♡ He once brought you flowers. This was a special once - the first time he actually gifted you flowers personally, with one rose being burnt a little. He found and you've pressed it in a book. One day you found it laminated between glass. It's somewhere lying between his work papers all the time.

♡ He doesn't ask questions, when she's having a bad day. He sits beside you like a silent guard, offering a mute companionship. You will speak when you want to, he can wait.

♡ He memorizes little things you do and like. He never makes a shot out of it, but he has that trait of observing everything. He remembers your favorite song and the way you take your tea. It doesn't have any practical purpose - he just...does that.

♡ One day you have found a plush keychain on your bag, looking like a dissatisfied lion with a little crown.

♡ He never forgets to say goodnight. Even when apart, he finds a couple of seconds for you. You always get a gruff, "Sleep well, woman" through a phone call before he crashes.

♡ He brushes a kiss over your forehead when he thinks you are asleep.

♡ He has your photo somewhere there. There is your polaroid in his work notebook attached to paper by a clip.

♡ He secretly panics when you're hurt. It's so simple with others to deal with - he just doesn't - but he never knows what to do with you. His voice is sharper than usual, "Show me where. Now."

♡ Xanxus wasn't like that in the beginning, and these relationship had some ups and downs. He never said it out loud, but deep down he wants to be better than the Ninth - not because he wants forgiveness, but because he refuses the history repeat; because you've convinced he deserves to be happy and you've shown him that. If he's going to have someone love him. he wants to be worth that love.

♡ He doesn't know how to soft with himself, but he is learning how to be soft with you. He started to let you hold his hand without pulling away. Even if he's hesitant and stiff, he still allows that. Maybe he cannot be soft with himself, but you can do that for both of you.

♡ One day he realizes that. Nothing happened, and it wasn't a special day. It was just you among his guardians, the most casual evening one could think of. But that's when it clicks - this is what it feels to be loved without having to fight for it. And it terrifies him.

♡ ...He bought you a house. A real one, not the soulless estates with empty luxury he used to have for the sake of owning them. It is the one someone can call home. A place where one could live away from the bloodshed. You couldn't believe him until he threw you the key and mumbled, "Don't expect flowers." He gifts you flowers.

♡ One day you have been playing truth or dare. Lussuria bombarded you with a bunch of personal questions, where you revealed that Xanxys often kissed your knuckles. Everyone considered that the funniest joke of the evening, and Squalo's throat was sore from all the laughing. No one believed it to the point they all thought is was a very good mockery. Xanxus does love your hands though. Small, soft and delicate but hardworking with some small scratches and calluses - just the way he sees you. He loves your touch, and yes. He leaves kisses in your knuckles all the time. After that truth or dare game you always giggle when he does that, and Xanxus is still puzzled to what has happened.

♡ When you leave small and stupid sticky notes, he doesn't throw away some of them. There is an old one in his wallet with a short "I think of you", that you have written him in the very beginning of your relationship.

♡ He has never been good with words. He told you, "I don't know how to do this shit, but I want it to be real. I want you" like it was the most difficult thing in the world. And you kissed him like is was the easiest thing in the world.

♡ He finds himself smiling at your laugh, the way you tease him, and has a hard time controlling it. Like he is not Xanxus of all the people. Like he is not terrifying. It's so stupid. It's so good.

♡ You once said, "You do not have to be angry to be strong." It's so idiotic in his eyes, but for you - only for you - he tries to believe this.

— Riunione.

You shouldn't have been there. 

Salvatore gave you an incredulous look when you knocked and opened the door to his den with a tray of tea and sweets in hand. Your father insisted that your brother's guest was someone of utmost importance, so you had to be just as hospitable. 

"I didn't ask for you," he remarked with a tone slightly off and rougher than usual, his annoyance made evident by the clicking of his tongue. "Leave us." 

Salvatore was a stern yet sweet older brother and he wasn't normally this mean to you. Sweat soaked the slightly wrinkled collar of his white dress shirt and you could see from the way his shoulders tensed up that he was both irked and nervous. 

"No need to be rude to your sister, Andolini."

A low and lazy voice sliced through the disquieting silence that enveloped your brother's den. Long crossed legs in pressed black dress pants were set on your brother's mahogany coffee table, with jet-black leather dress shoes shined to perfection. You followed the length of his torso to his neck, faint burn scars on his otherwise chiseled face. The olive-skinned stranger sat on the emerald-green divan as though he owned the place.

Only it wasn't a stranger. You'd recognize those crimson eyes from a mile away. 

"Yeah, right. You're not even a shining example of courtesy yourself, Vongola, so don't school me about being rude to—" Salvatore shot back at his guest before eventually turning in your direction once more, brows furrowed as he rattled you to leave his sight. "I said leave!"

The cups and plates clattered in the tray in your hands as you hurriedly exited the room. You left in haste and in fear of further incensing your brother, who was nothing but kind to you. 

What was that about? You mused to yourself as you made your way back to the kitchen. Your brother has always been closer to Xanxus than you ever were, but that didn't mean you weren't friends at all. 

— A series of comings and goings.

The Andolini Family shared an easy yet deep friendship with the Vongola Family that spanned generations. In essence, you and Salvatore have always been welcomed guests in the Vongola estate, even more so when he and the Vongola heir-apparent became fast friends. Salvatore witnessed firsthand how Xanxus grew into his role as a future leader and knew he had to follow suit if he were to stand next to him proudly.

Unfortunately for your brother, Xanxus was a prodigy— a jack of all trades and a master of everything he put his mind to. Though easily irritated and agitated, he was ultimately single-minded, with one driving purpose at heart— to lead his family. To where, no one knew exactly. He was also known for his explosive temper, the kind that made underlings follow him out of fear rather than loyalty. Salvatore was among those who understood Xanxus' will and respected his pursuit of strength. Along with their closeness and mutual respect came the eventual invitation for your brother to join the Varia, an independent arm of the Vongola Family under its heir's supervision. 

At 16, after discovering a traitor within the family, Xanxus disobeyed his father's orders to stand down and left with his squad to raid an enemy family's headquarters. Your brother witnessed how the young leader's brash impulsiveness led to his accidental burning— and how it led to a year's sleep before Xanxus could finally set out in the sun without reliving the fire that seared his face. 

In their boyhood, Xanxus always made himself at home in the Andolini estate, where he had always been welcome just as you and your brother were in his home. You found he would come and visit whenever he and his father, Don Timoteo Vongola, had fiery arguments, which were often, considering how he would sometimes stay over for days on end. 

He was treated as part of the Andolini Family, though he was mostly just a passive and nonchalant onlooker who, surprisingly, always readily agreed and assisted your father in harvesting your family's famous navel oranges. 

It was you Xanxus would seek out on days he would arrive at your estate while Salvatore was out running errands for your family, and he would often find you tending to your father's herb garden or with your nose buried in a book. Under the shade of the trees in your family's orange grove, you forgot about the rest of the world as you got lost in every book you could get your hands on. He would sit next to you in silence and observance and would sometimes comment on your reading material, such as Antony and Cleopatra being too mature for you. 

He scoffed at your attempt at intellectualism, but the joke was on him since you read entirely for leisure. "Why not read a pocketbook romance instead of tragedies?" 

"I dunno. I already started it, so no point in not finishing it," you shrugged off his remarks, not at all paying attention to the weight of his gaze on you. It was woefully dense, the kind of look that would make you ask what the hell have you been doing?

"Wanna know what happens in the end?"

"Not really."

You finally looked up from your book and realized just how exhausted he looked now. At 24, Xanxus had the appearance of a boy who had already seen more than he asked for. He was both a child and a man at that point in his life and the way his crimson eyes darkened whenever Varia's second-in-command came to escort him back to the Vongola estate only made him look even older than he was.

The silver-haired young man, whom you once heard your brother refer to as Squalo, often arrived with a sense of urgency that seemed to repel rather than compel Xanxus to return home, this instance even more stressful than usual. "We have our orders, boss."

"I haven't even spoken to Andolini."

"If you have a message for my brother, I'd be glad to pass it on to him."

"Tell him… I'll see him around," he stated with a rather thoughtful pause before pulling out all the stops. He wasn't one to sugarcoat things, after all. "And that he's shit and shit at keeping promises."

That day he left your home with his second-in-command was the last you would see him. Salvatore's perplexion was only further confounded as you delivered his friend's parting words. He demanded answers from your father, who must have known something from the way he evaded your brother's questioning. 

"It's been months, old man. The Vongola estate hasn't been straight with me at all, either. Xanxus, Squalo, and the rest of the Varia have vanished! What on earth did Don Timoteo put them up to?!" 

"What are you saying, Salvatore? Have you forgotten the kind world we live in? The young master of the Vongola was tasked with something I will ask you to do as well when the situation finally calls for it!"

"What?"

"Xanxus has been sent out to make his bones. And I'd sooner lose my head than break the promise I made to his old man. He is as good as dead if we do not stop speaking about him!"

"What are you saying, papa?! I was supposed to be with him! Xanxus himself asked me to—!"

Your father could only shake his head in response, and you could only watch as this conversation transpired from across your dining table. All you could remember was the sheer exhaustion in the older boy's crimson eyes and the burn scars on his face that made him look all the more menacing but also extremely tired.

All the while you couldn't help but muse to yourself how truly wanted to know how the tragedy of Antony and Cleopatra would end, having lost the taste to read it through to the end. 

Maybe I should have said yes. 

"Don't you think it's about time you started taking your suitors seriously?"

You looked up from your book and found your older brother's wife Natalia with a tray of tea and sweets on hand. There was no stopping your growing grin as you happily made space for 

her next to you on the cozy sofa underneath your family's orange trees.  

"First of all, Salvatore should stop being so mean to those suitors. But then again, if they are so easily rattled by the young don's questioning, how will he ever deem them worthy of me?"

Natalia is the daughter of Don Raffaele Vitelli, one of your father's associates. You two became fast friends since you were classmates, and she developed a sweet and innocent girlish crush on your older brother, who, surprisingly, reciprocated her tender feelings. They were, as the old people said, struck by the thunderbolt. 

But it made sense to you. Natalia was hailed as a beauty of your hometown and though you did not think much of your brother since he was your brother, you knew they were a perfect match— both good-looking and from influential families… but more importantly, they liked each other for who they were. They were married in the summer of that year, and when you asked your brother when he first realized that he liked Natalia, his answer surprised you even further. 

"Remember when Don Raffaele made his first visit to papa? Natalia was wearing a floral dress and she was carrying that awfully heavy bread basket and…" An uncharacteristically tender sigh left his lips as he set down his half-empty wine glass. "She was so beautiful. And strong. You know that she's an only child, right? She didn't have any siblings to rely on, and her father only had her."

"But she was so easy to talk to. Must have been why we got along so well," you replied with a bright smile on your face. "I wish you and Natalia many, many, many, and long, long years of happiness, Salvatore." 

"And I wish to say the same to you, my dear sister. Has no one caught your eye at all at this party?"

"I should ask you that question, my brother!" 

Salvatore did not take kindly to any suitors who made their attempts to woo you, though he didn't have to try so hard to scare them off when you were a deterrent yourself. None of them appreciated how well-read you were and how you challenged their way of thinking. One of them even said that you were just a girl from a family with influence and no one would want you if not for that and that you should think with your heart more than your head. 

None were good enough for you, for the truth of their intentions betrayed the sweetness of their words and deeds. No one wanted you for who you were. The world you walked in meant men would either want you as leverage or as a trophy. For all of his severity, you knew that your brother meant well and came from a place of concern whenever men introduced themselves to you. The Andolini name held considerable influence in your region, even more so since your clan enjoyed the protection of the Vongola Family, which remained the most powerful mafia family in Italy. 

"Well, I'm not at all surprised that no one passes your standards. They seem to have forgotten that women are more dangerous than shotguns here in our fair town."

On your 27th birthday, five years after Xanxus' escape and exile to northern Italy, you received a picturesque postcard from Siena that smelt of whiskey and the sun and was slightly wrinkled from having traveled far. There was no return address, only a simple message scrawled in thick black ink.

"Happy birthday. They both die in the end." 

It was enough to make you laugh for the rest of the evening as your extended family had their fill of your father's anchovy pasta in rich red tomato sauce in your estate's orange grove. 

"I thought so," you said to yourself as you slipped the card between the book you were reading now, a cheesy pocketbook romance that would surely make Xanxus proud. Or scoff.

— Ares in the forlorn garden.

Although you never liked large parties even when you were younger, your father and brother insisted on throwing those lavish celebrations whenever your birthday came around. You didn't like celebrating your birthday at all, for it also marked the day of your mother's passing after giving birth to you. When you realized how every celebration made them happy, you accepted the parties more for them if not for you. 

Salvatore knew deep down that the parties did little to cheer you up. Every year he convinces you that it wasn't your fault. It never was… Yet no amount of celebration and commemoration could ease the guilt you felt— for being the one to live. For robbing him of his mother, too.

So he allows you to leave the parties once you've shown yourself to your guests. He doesn't bother looking for you either, since he knows you'll be in the estate's orange grove, reading and lounging under the trees adorned with bloomed orange blossoms. 

One guest in particular always knew where to find you, too. 

Or perhaps you never really felt a need to hide from him at all.

Xanxus didn't like crowds, either. But it was a birthday party where everyone knew who he was due to his close ties to the young master of the house and the birthday celebrant. He was also there in an official capacity as the Vongola heir-apparent, so his appearance was just as much of a show as your brother always planned it to be. 

That afternoon was as mild and breezy as always in your region, so Xanxus wasn't that surprised at all to find you nearly asleep on the sofa your father set up for you under your orange trees. 

The fall of your hair over the armrest of the sofa, your measured breaths, the rising of your chest underneath your cotton sundress, the slow movement of your lips as you read along the lines of the book in your hands… 

It was a sight that never failed to comfort him, ground him, and remind him of his humanity despite all the things he had done in the name of maintaining peace and delivering justice… and retribution. For the Vongola Family. 

It was the human part of him, after all, that tainted his being with want. A desire he could never give voice to in fear of what might be asked of him in exchange. Even though he fears nothing.

"Hey, brat."

"Still a brat even though I'm already 20, Xanxus?" You remarked as you rested your open book on your chest. "It's nice to see you."

"More tragedies?" He asked in his usual teasing and deriding voice. You sat up and gave him space to sit next to you. 

"Be not vexed with me, Odysseus, for in all else thou wast ever the wisest of men. It is the gods that gave us sorrow, the gods who begrudged that we two should remain with each other and enjoy our youth, and come to the threshold of old age…" You read the passage from your book dramatically, but not without laughing in the end. Xanxus gently bonked your head with a wrapped present, its rectangular size and weight revealing what it was without you even opening it yet. "Oh! Grazie!" 

"Something a little different from what you're used to reading," he stated as he fished something out of his pants pocket— a small velveteen box that held a simple gold rope chain and a teardrop-shaped garnet pendant. "And one last thing."

"It's so pretty," you said in utter awe as you tenderly caressed the pendant. "This color kinda reminds me of…"

You lifted your gaze from the jewelry and met the older boy's crimson gaze— the very same color as the stone in your hands. Now that you sat so close to him, you caught the faint scent of your brother's favorite whiskey on him, and… gunpowder? But his white dress shirt was immaculately pressed… 

The scars on his face from that day have healed, too, but no doubt the memory remained. He hated being looked at at first, especially by you, for some unknown reason. But the way he held your gaze now must have meant he had already moved on from his initial insecurity. 

…Not that he really had anything to be insecure about. He was gorgeous, even with that perpetual scowl on his face. Even with the scars. Other people will disagree with you, but this was a hill you were willing to die on. 

"Glad you like it," he remarked as he watched you happily tear open the wrapping paper of his other present. "And that's an American novel. It's sad, very much to your tastes."

"Gone with the Wind," you read the title with a tender smile and pressed it close to your chest. "Thank you, Xanxus. I truly appreciate your gifts… though you know I'd be happy with just you being here." 

Huh, Xanxus couldn't help but muse. You were happy that he was around? 

"Could you, ah, help me? With the necklace, I mean. I'd like to wear it now," you said with the same soft smile on your face as you handed him the velvet box and drew your hair over your right shoulder. "I'm not really a jewelry kind of girl, but this is just too pretty not to wear and show off…"

Your rambles faded in his ears, replaced by the rush of blood and the warning of his common sense wanting to leave his being. 

Shit, he thought to himself. 

The things he wanted to do with the curve of your neck exposed to him. 

He desperately fought the urge to touch you further than what you asked him to do, his hands steady as he fastened the clasp of the necklace. His resistance faded and staggered as his fingers grazed the warmth of your bare nape and you yelped in surprise as he hurriedly stood up and stormed off. 

"Wh— Xanxus?!"

"Happy birthday, you little shit!" He shouted from over his shoulder as he stomped back into your house. "Don't follow me!" 

It was only when Xanxus was finally out of sight that you brought a hand to your mouth and managed to swallow the lump in your throat. Oh. He had no business being that hot and cryptic and mysterious to you. Your face burned against the cold of your palm and you were once again reminded— His hands were hot! Burning hot!

— Chiama e Ritorna.

On his 34th birthday, Salvatore succeeded your father as the head of the Andolini Family of Sicily, and his inheritance was met with favor by Don Timoteo Vongola himself. It was customary for new family heads to make their courtesy calls to the Vongola Family following their inheritance ceremonies, where they were granted one request as a symbol of their deepened ties. The request could be anything as long as it was reasonable and within the Vongola Family's power to make it possible. 

Salvatore thought long and hard about his request to Don Timoteo, but nothing came up— all because the Andolini Family was powerful in its own right and capable of making things happen if required. 

Still, he stood in that well-protected office with a thought in mind, no trepidation as he bowed in reverence to the older man in a finely tailored russet suit. "I thank you for receiving me today, Don Timoteo."

"Welcome, and my heartfelt congratulations, young Salvatore," Timoteo stated as he stood up from his seat and offered a firm handshake to the younger man. "You are the spitting image of your father in his youth."

"So I've heard. I know for a fact that you and papa share a long and storied friendship, part of which my family and I have already seen," Salvatore returned the handshake with the same strength. "If I may speak freely."

The older man nodded, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. 

"You swore my father into your service out of great love and respect for him. You treated him as you would your blood family. He would come to your aid whenever you needed it. I… I, too, have someone I deeply love and respect. And I will pledge myself to his command if need be. But I must know…" 

For Salvatore, life was never the same without Xanxus. They were boys together, but it felt to him like he was the only one who grew up after all those years. And to hear nothing of his friend even from his father… He tempered his voice and expectations as he asked that one question that remained unanswered for a decade.  

"Where is Xanxus?"

"And that is your request, young Salvatore?" Timoteo had a thoughtful hand on his chin. "I suppose you're now qualified to look into the darkness." 

The older man led the fledgling boss to his antique desk, where a map of Italy lay with red circles and crosses. "It started here in Sicily, in Catania, specifically. There were whispers of yet another traitor in that region, so they set out to make clean work of it. He said it was part of making his mark as my heir-apparent. He said it was for the family. I myself could not protect him… Me, his father. To defend him meant reprisal for someone else, so I ordered them to move north— to Siena. You ran errands on the day Xanxus last visited the Andolini estate, correct? Your father made it so you would not be able to participate in this decade-long mission." 

What? "What?"

"And I approved your father's plan after he begged on his knees… For me not to take his only son," Timoteo stated with a deep sigh. "From what I heard, Xanxus did not reach out to you at all, but he did reach out to your sister."

"My sister?"

"It must be no secret to you that Xanxus happens to be very fond of your sister, young Salvatore."

"It's the first I'm hearing of it, Don Timoteo. But more importantly, papa lied to me…" Salvatore couldn't count the markers on the map. They all blurred into a blotch that looked like a bloodstain. "I've only made my bones once. It was nothing like this. All this time we've been safe from any vendettas… It was because of Xanxus and the Varia. I…"

"There is no need to be so upset, young Salvatore. Xanxus did it all for the family. For the Vongola Family and all of its allies," the older man clamped a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "And I know I am only allowed to grant one request, but this one is—"

"On me."

The door swung open and your brother couldn't believe his eyes and ears when he heard who entered Don Vongola's office. 

Taller, shoulders broader, voice deeper, hair longer… and crimson eyes that have seen more than he could have asked for. 

"Been a while, Andolini. I'm a little late, but I'm here nonetheless," Xanxus stood before his friend in a pitch-black suit just as finely made and pressed as his father's, as though he hadn't left at all. "Congratulazioni."

In your brother's absence, you stood as the head of the Andolini Family as its underboss. It was a flashy title that weighed little to nothing as long as it was filled out, but Salvatore didn't want just anyone to stand in. 

The birth of his son Niccolo meant he had his heir, the one who would carry and continue the Andolini name. The boy grew ever-curious and was particularly close to you, his only aunt. He enjoyed traipsing around the orange grove and made it his personal playground. You and Natalia would simply watch as he ran through the short distance of woods and back to the path home. 

"Come, Niccolo!"

"We have returned, Signora Andolini," Vincenzo, your father's right hand and now one of your brother's men, announced their arrival back home following their visit to the Vongola estate. 

The older man was a silver fox of your society, never having married due to his line of work. He and Alberto, yet another silver fox with more rugged features, have been around your father their whole lives— and have dedicated themselves to his service, which included protecting you and your brother, and his young but growing family as well.

"He means you, Nat," you nudged your sister-in-law as she bundled her son in her arms. Natalia carried Niccolo in one arm and beckoned you with the other as she made her way back into the house. 

"Principessa," came the old man's voice calling out to you. It was an endearing nickname you've never outgrown because of how often the people at home used it, including your father's men. "Your papa would like to speak with you."

"I see. Grazie, Vincenzo," you said as you entered the house. You noticed the entourage of different cars parked within the estate gates. "Do we have guests?"

"They are guests of Don Andolini— your brother. I believe that is what your father wishes to speak to you about," Vincenzo stated as he gestured for the rest of the men to make way for you. Their suits all smelled of fancy perfume and cigarette smoke. "He should be in the kitchen." 

"What is he doing there? He should be resting!" You exclaimed as you made your way past your brother's men, who all acknowledged you with a small but meaningful bow. 

Salvatore's guests shuffled into the hallway just as you weaved through the first wave of men in suits. A blonde young man with wavy hair shielding his eyes caught your figure slipping past them.

"Who's that?"

"The Andolini girl, the sister of the capo, you nitwit," a silver-haired man responded to his subordinate's question. "You should know that by now." 

"Ah, so that's the boss's— Ack!" The blonde was smacked in the back of his head by their silver-haired captain. 

"Be quiet, Bel!" 

True enough, your father was in your kitchen, cane in hand as he stood before the ignited stove with a kettle of water heating up. His suspenders were curiously fastened to his person, as though wanting to look presentable for someone.

"Papa! You should be resting!" You hurried to the old man's side and led him to the nearest chair you could find. "You can leave this to the kitchen staff…"

He shook his head at you. "Anyone less is an insult."

You furrowed your brows at his remark and understood what he meant. "Is our guest… Don Timoteo?"

Again, another shake of his head. "Someone just as important."

"Fine. I'll do it, papa. I'll serve Salvatore and his guest, but please… I'll call Vincenzo to take you to the veranda if you don't want to return to your room. No moving up and down the house unnecessarily, please," you bent down on your knees and pled with your father, clasping his wrinkled hands in yours. 

"Caro figlia… My dear girl…" He spoke softly, bringing his warm yet rugged palm to your cheek. He was a man who did unthinkable things in the name of your family and made his bread with it. But at this moment, he was simply a father doting on his only daughter. You sank into his gentle hold, which felt oddly sentimental. 

"I'll be right back, papa," you said as you gently grasped his wrist and got up on your feet. The rooibos tea and orange tarts you made with your sister-in-law were always a winning combination. A luxury, as your brother's men once said when they were served with the snack, incredibly grateful that their underboss and the wife of their boss would do something so wonderful for them. This should impress whoever's with Salvatore, I hope.

But Salvatore gave you an incredulous look when you knocked and opened the door to his den with the tray of tea and sweets in hand. Your father insisted that your brother's guest was someone of utmost importance, so you had to be just as hospitable. 

You shouldn't have been there. 

"I didn't ask for you," your older brother remarked with a tone slightly off and rougher than usual, his annoyance made evident by the clicking of his tongue. Sweat soaked the slightly wrinkled collar of his white dress shirt and you could see from the way his shoulders tensed up that he was both irked and nervous. "Leave us." 

"No need to be rude to your sister, Andolini."

A low and lazy voice sliced through the odd silence that enveloped Salvatore's den. Long crossed legs in pressed black dress pants were set on your brother's mahogany coffee table, with jet-black leather dress shoes shined to perfection. You followed the length of his torso to his neck, faint burn scars on this stranger's otherwise chiseled face. 

Only it wasn't a stranger. You'd recognize those crimson eyes from a mile away. 

Crimson, like the stone that rested on the smoothness of your chest. A treasured present from long ago.

The rest of their conversation faded in the background as you locked eyes with the man, his dark hair framing the intensity of his gaze. Salvatore furrowed his brows as he rattled you to leave his sight. "I said leave!"

You left the room in haste and scurried away with the tea and snacks in hand, not at all paying attention to the men in sleek black suits lined up outside your brother's office. 

"Oh? Did her brother chase her out? I doubt it was the boss who did," the same blonde young man commented as you walked past them, his smirk long and wide. "After all, the boss…"

What was that about? You mused to yourself as you made your way back to the kitchen. Your brother has always been closer to Xanxus than you ever were, but that didn't mean you weren't friends at all. 

That didn't mean you didn't hold any feelings for him at all.

Xanxus snorted in his seat before letting off a low chuckle. "How do you expect me to help you if you aren't gonna help me, Andolini?"

"You must be really desperate if you want my help, Vongola," Salvatore said as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Wait, what do you mean? I don't remember you asking for my help for anything." 

"Huh. You're right. I'm here to make demands," the dark-haired man stated with a small but knowing crooked smile on his face. "First order of things is that pretty face that just left the room. She better attend this party or this deal you're looking at is off." 

"You don't mean that."

But what if he did? Somehow the old don's words from their earlier conversation started to make… sense. Along with all of his friend's irrational and unexplainable behavior when they were younger. 

It must be no secret to you that Xanxus happens to be very fond of your sister, young Salvatore.

Xanxus glared at him, something he hadn't done in a long time. Salvatore thought his friend had outgrown that awful temperament of his, but that practiced stink eye of his clearly meant otherwise.  

"Don't make me ask twice, Andolini."

— Ares does not have any flights of fancy.

"Who the fuck is that scumbag?"

Xanxus stood by the door leading to the Andolini estate's orange grove and followed your trail with his eyes. It was impossible for eyes not to be drawn to you because of that gorgeous golden sundress of yours. Your walk was slow and intentional, hands on your back as you made small talk with the young man walking next to you. You pointed at his left hand, seemingly asking about the meaning of the tattoo peeking from under his sleeve.    

"Whaddya mean who's that scumbag? That's Dino Cavallone. I thought your father introduced him to you," Salvatore remarked with a slight hint of annoyance as he stood next to his friend, both of them impeccably dressed in matching coal-black suits. "He's the new Don Cavallone. Pretty young to be boss, but he's the same age as my sister— 22, if I'm right? So there's that." 

"What the fuck's he doin' here?"

With you, no less. Xanxus flinched ever so slightly as he saw you almost trip on your feet, your arm caught by the young don in the ash-gray pinstripe suit. 

"Wha— Xanxus, what's with all the questions? And slow down with all the profanities! We're here at my house, not Villa Vongola," your brother responded to his friend's questioning. "Cavallone's here to visit my sister. Seems quite taken by her, too. If things go as planned, he may even ask for her hand in marriage."

"Huh," the dark-haired boy remarked flatly. He grabbed his blazer from one of the couches and hurriedly put it on, calling out for you in a blind rage as he buttoned it down and walked out to the orange grove. "Hey, brat!"

"X-Xanxus?! Oh, man… Nat is going to kill me for being late!" Salvatore exclaimed as he was shrugged off by his friend. "But what the hell is he so angry about?!"

You turned back when you heard the dull shouting from the distance and found Xanxus walking over to where you were, pebbles crunching underneath his dress shoes, the afternoon sun dancing along his fine features. "Xanxus? I thought you and Salvatore were going somewhere today?"

He didn't speak at first, and neither did he acknowledge your companion this afternoon. 

"Oh, this is Don Dino Cavallone, he—" You gestured to the blonde young man standing next to you, only for you to be cut off when he slowly and intentionally reached for the garnet pendant hanging from your neck, his fingers burning as he touched your skin. 

"Didn't ask. Don't care."

Fortunately, Dino was an incredibly understanding guest who understood what exactly was happening at that very moment. He was warned about this, too, though he didn't really pay much attention to hearsay from other young heirs and bosses who once tried their hand at courting you. He was aware of Xanxus's impulsive personality, too, but he didn't expect him to be incredibly petty. 

"I'll visit you again some other time, girasole," he said as he gently grasped your hand and raised it to his lips, a warm but chaste kiss pressed to your knuckles. "Thank you for this afternoon."

"O-Of course, Don Dino! Thank you for the sweets, too!" You said as you gave him a short but meaningful bow. "Please take care on your way home!"

You watched your older brother approach the retreating figure, an apologetic look on his face as he walked him out of your estate. 

"Xanxus, what was that?"

But he refused to look at you this time, his crimson eyes narrowed and turned elsewhere before he eventually stalked back to your estate. 

"H-Hey! I was talking to you! Ah—!" You followed suit, stomping towards Xanxus before eventually tripping on your feet because of— these damned sandals! He caught you in time, his palms warm as he grasped your arms. 

"…stand it…" His murmur was inaudible even though you were as close as you could be. 

"What?…" 

"I can't stand it," he said, his gaze burning holes through you. He thought of closing the irritatingly small distance between you, but what would your family say if they saw you in such a compromised position? With him, no less. They would demand he take responsibility for you. He would have tied you to him forever.

Isn't that what I want?

"You can't stand what?" you asked, voice hushed to a whisper as you brought your hand to his cheek, your fingertips burning as you tenderly caressed the span of his scar. He shut his eyes as he felt the ghose of your breath over his lips…

And he fought the demons in his head until he couldn't. 

You felt his large hand on the back of your head as his lips crashed onto yours. 

"Xanxus?" 

Your soft voice breaks the spell.  

Xanxus opened his eyes and found you staring right back at him with concern washed over your features, your lips still glossy. You both stood up slowly, but he broke apart from your hold as soon as he was on his feet. He stormed off in his usual Xanxus fashion and dragged the clueless Salvatore away as he was about to head to the orange grove himself. 

"I can't be around you without you tripping all over the place, you klutzy piece of trash!"

At the end of the day, it was you who met up with Natalia for her supposed dinner with your brother, and all you could do was sit in a daze and apologize, for all you could think of was drowning in that boy's eyes— tired, pensive, deep, and dark as the sweet seeds of a pomegranate cut open in half. 

— Ares and the forbidden fruit.

You were summoned to your brother's office— at his behest, this time, and you found him brooding over a single gilded envelope on his desk. The way he blew you off earlier still pissed you off, and you weren't even able to get in a word to Xanxus, who left with the Varia not long after holding that brief discussion with Salvatore.

"Well, you know by now that Xanxus is back home. The Vongola Family's gonna host a simple celebration for his homecoming tomorrow night," Salvatore stated as he handed the envelope to you. "I know we usually visit their estate together, but I have something urgent that needs handling before I can get there." 

"We can always go together. I don't see what the issue is…" You replied as you pulled out the invitation card from its thin cardboard sleeve. 

"Business is in Catania and it takes at least three hours to get there. Which is why you'll head to the celebration first, underboss," he said with a rather tired sigh. "Now that Xanxus is back, I expect an improvement in our correspondence with the Vongola Family. That business in Catania is something I'll need his help with. Talk to him a bit about it. Only until I arrive." 

"Okay, Salvatore." 

"I had a dress brought in for this occasion. He said it was a black tie affair, so I can't have you heading there in your usual getup," Salvatore stated matter-of-factly, pointing at your sundress. "It should be in your room now."

"All right. Anything else I should take note of?" 

"Yeah," he said with a small frown, a thoughtful hand on his chin this time. "Don't do anything dumb, all right? Vincenzo will be with me and Al's staying with the old man, so Luca's gonna be your guard." 

Luca was a greenhorn, a soldato brought in by Vincenzo after proving loyal and useful to your family's cause. He was younger than you, a little bit on the dense side, but incredibly charming and nimble on his feet. 

And also extremely easy to control. 

This now leads to the thought that has been brewing in your mind for the last few hours. 

How far am I willing to go for answers, exactly? 

"We'll make a quick escape if something goes horribly wrong. But with Xanxus and the Varia back home, I doubt anything will happen," you reassured your brother. "But don't you think it's about time I learned how to drive, Salvatore?"

"Not on your life. Now scat! It's still a day away, but start preparing for the party! Better teach your bodyguard some manners, too, while you're at it." 

Salvatore's fashion sense has always been incredibly on point. He was right that a silky black dress is fail-proof, so it was no surprise when heads turned upon your arrival at the banquet hall that evening. The whispers from other members of your society were something you've grown used to, even more so after rejecting countless sons and suitors. 

Your arrival didn't go by unnoticed by the men closest to the star of that night, all of them doing away with their heavy-duty trench coats and donning impeccable threads— classic black suits and pressed dress shirts, shined dress shoes, and similar crimson lapel pins bearing their coat of arms.  

"There's your little present, in pretty wrapping paper and all," Squalo said with a snort as he watched his boss's unchanged reaction. "That kid with her… Is he her bodyguard for tonight?"

Xanxus didn't want to seem too eager, but he quirked an eyebrow when you gestured for the Andolini soldato to approach you, the boy fiddling with his crooked tie. 

"Lu," you turned to your only bodyguard for the night and moved to adjust the black tie fastened around his pressed collar. He let out a small sigh of relief that you helped him out. Your brother was right when he said the kid needed a crash course on etiquette, but you didn't expect him to be a dolt when it came to clothes, too.  

"Sì, principessa?"

Luca had a twinkle in his eyes, as though expecting you to give him an assignment he could boast about to the more experienced members of your family. You gave him one final look from head to toe before giving a nod of approval. Vincenzo was right when he said the boy cleans up well. 

"I'm gonna pull rank here and dismiss you for the evening. I promise you, though… that I'll never leave the Vongola Villa, so you don't have to worry about me going missing."

"But Don Salvatore said I should keep my eyes on you the whole time," he replied to you with a hint of trepidation in his voice, as expected of a man of his experience. 

If this were Vincenzo or Alberto— old men too clever for your own good— you'd be on lockdown the entire night until it was time to return home. 

"Look, does he want this deal with Xanxus or not?" You asked him, clamping your hands on his shoulders. "I'm doing this for the family, so technically, you're doing it for the family, too."

Not really. It was mostly for yourself and for the handsome man staring at you from across the hall, his drink in hand as he greeted and dismissed guests from where he sat. 

"Besides, I want you to…" You continued, surveying your surroundings for anything— "Dance with a pretty girl tonight!" 

"A-Am I allowed t—"

"I am allowing you to!" You exclaimed as you gave the younger man a hearty push towards the buffet table. You found the thought of having a gullible little brother amusing back then, but you never thought it would be this funny. "Eat, drink, dance, but don't ever leave this place without me, understood?"

Luca was young and sweet-faced, so he would surely beguile an equally sweet-faced girl— or a lonely signora with a penchant for vigor. As for the aftermath of whatever chaos he might get into, you'll deal with it in the morning.

"What are you scheming?" A low voice came from behind you, followed by the touch of a cool glass of whiskey on your bare shoulder. "You made quick work of that greenhorn." 

You turned around and saw the star of the night standing right behind you, followed by the gaze of everyone else in the hall. 

Xanxus was taller, his shoulders much broader compared to when you last met, yet in his crimson eyes was the same exhaustion that haunted him in his youth. He grew out his hair, dark locks framing his gaze now. Scarlet plumes rested on his left shoulder, a stark contrast to the blackness of his suit. 

"Did he send you here on your own? That Andolini's getting good at this vanishing act," he stated. "Your brother's refusal from before was enough disrespect, but that doesn't mean I'll forget our many years of friendship." 

"My brother was never going to refuse you," you answered him with a small smile. "You have no idea how upset Salvatore was when you left… without him."

"I suppose it worked out for the best," he replied to you with a pensive gaze underneath his furrowed brows. "Does he go by Don Andolini now?"

"No, he'll always be Salvatore to us," you said with a chuckle. 

"And you? How've you been? I can see now why your brother's so adamant about showing you off," Xanxus chuckled right back, taking your hand in his. "But you're… 32, yeah? And still at home with your family."

"There are worse things to be than being unmarried at 32," you said matter-of-factly. "Such as being unmarried at 34." 

"Been busy. People ought to stop giving me shit for that. I don't even care much for marriage."

"You don't?"

"I might consider it…"

Xanxus noticed your sudden uneasiness as more whispers filled the air. You couldn't handle the thought of being stared at the entire evening just because he stood up from his seat for the first time in hours. 

"You're with me. Who cares what these cafone think?" He said as he uncharacteristically squeezed your hand to elicit a response from you. "Besides, it's no secret that I have a soft spot for the Andolini girl." 

"Do you, now?"

"Come with me upstairs and I'll prove it."

There it was. 

"Okay."

With a single snap of his fingers, melodious music played by the live band drew dancers to the dance floor, a diversion to throw the rest of the crowd off your trail. You left the hall as silently as you could, pulled away by the entire reason why the party was being held in the first place. 

He led you to a vacant bedroom illuminated by candles and the silver moonlight, the long curtains still drawn open. On top of a cedar drawer were bar glasses and unopened bottles of whiskey and tequila. 

"Oh! Wanna play a drinking game while we're here? How about Truth or Drink? We'll take turns sharing statements that could either be true or false. If you guess right, I'll drink. If you guess wrong, well… You already know what that means," you stated rather excitedly as you twisted open the bottle of tequila.

"That's not even a real drinking game," came his voice from behind you again. 

"I thought we came here to prove how much of a soft spot you have for the Andolini girl," you pouted at him."Just play with me because I want to hear all about what you did in the last ten years. Maybe even beyond that, too…"

You poured the amber liquor into the glasses and handed one to him, a glint of mischief in your eyes as he received it. 

"Too bad we don't have any salt and lime, but that's fine. Okay, I'll start. I, uh…" You said with a short pause as though in thought. "I learned how to drive."

"Lie," he stated confidently. "Your brother would never teach you how to drive because who knows what trouble you'd get yourself into? Drink up." 

"Fine…" You huffed before downing the contents of your glass straight up. It burned, sweet and bitter as it ran down your throat, but also slightly refreshing. "Okay, your turn." 

"I killed people."

"It's like you're not even trying!" A small hmph left your lips this time. "And that's true, by the way, so drink up." 

You refilled your empty glasses, swirling yours around as you thought of something to say. "I learned how to bake. And c—"

"Truth."

"I wasn't even finished explaining…" You said, your voice faint as you drank deep once more. By that time, Xanxus had already sat on the edge of the feather bed in that room, wherever you were, his eyes on your form as he heard the clinking of the tequila bottle against the rim of your glass. 

And he couldn't help but think of how easily you waltzed into the palm of his hand. Did your years and years of familiarity dull your senses to any danger he may have posed? Then again, did he ever give you the impression that it was dangerous to be around him? 

"I'm not my old man's kid, just a distant nephew. That explains why I'll never be the next head of the Vongola Family, even though I worked long and hard for it. That explains why I'm expendable. Why they didn't bother calling me back home to Sicily after completing orders."

"What?"

He left the danger behind every time he made his way to the Andolini estate. It was a corner of his world where he found absolute solace— normalcy, even— and maybe he tricked himself into thinking that he could just be a normal kid like Salvatore was. Like you were. After all, you treated him no different from any other kid who made friends with you. 

"I befriended your brother because I wanted to know what it was like," he said as he downed his drink. "To have a family that didn't treat you like a tool." 

But there was nothing normal about his name being synonymous with a deathbringer. With him and his elite squad of killers… There was no leaving his nature behind— he even had it branded on him as a reminder— by the man he called his father, no less. 

How you managed to look past everything was a mystery. One he was willing to bend the rules to get his answer. 

"I've always wanted to kiss you." 

You stared back at him with an expression you couldn't understand yourself, even though his eyes exuded nothing but apathy. You felt your chest tighten and your lips quivered at his revelations. "Xanxus…"

"You know how much people would pay for that kind of information? But then your brother would lose his sister instead of gaining a brother-in-law," he chuckled as you made your approach. "Does that prove how much of a soft spot I have for you?"

You stood before him with tears in the corner of your eyes, and he drew you close by taking your hands in his… and you couldn't tell which of you was warmer.  

"Sometimes, I still wish it was me who died instead of mama," you told him, a slight quake in your voice as you lowered yourself into his embrace. "I never took any of my suitors seriously because I've been waiting for you to come back home."

Xanxus didn't have to know that you willingly waltzed into the palm of his hand. The danger he posed meant nothing compared to all those years of familiarity, of friendship— and frustration— and neither did he give you any reason to fear him. 

"I've always wanted to kiss you, too."

You sank into the maroon-colored plush comforters after what should have been a formal meeting with the boss of the Varia— and the underboss of the Vongola Family. The drinks didn't help your case, either. You've always been a lightweight. Xanxus knew that, too, but the tequila was simply divine and you haven't seen his face in a long time.

The same, familiar burning touch made its way to your thighs, the hem of your skirt slowly hiked up as it pooled around your waist. 

"Nnhh… X-Xanxus? Wh—?"

You knew it was him, even though he paid little attention to the little cries that left your lips. Those were no cries of protests, either, but more of longing. Yearning. Desiring. 

Warm. His touch underneath the silk of your dress was warm. You dove deep into his crimson gaze as he loomed over you, your legs spread out to give him space in between. 

"…ss m…" Your voice was a quiver and a murmur that he could only hear by leaning down. 

"What?"

And when he was close enough, you brought your lips to his ears and pleaded with the gentlest of voices. "Kiss me…"

It took him a moment to register what it was you just asked him, but your heady gaze gave it all away. His lips crashed onto yours, slowly evolving into an exchange of hungry and moist breaths. Without parting, his hands made their way up to your chest with urgency, cupping your breasts in his burning palms. He felt you moan into your kiss and struggle ever so slightly as you grasped his wrists to anchor yourself to him.

"Ah…!" You gasped for air as you finally parted. A thin trail of saliva connected you but gently broke off as Xanxus slowly pulled away from you to let you breathe. Once you've caught your breath, he leaned down closely and comfortably on top of you and brushed even warmer kisses on your neck. 

"Huh. You're actually kind of cute," He whispered in your ear, his warm breath both tickling and arousing your sense of sound. 

You pouted at his teasing quip, tears prickling your eyes. "I've always been cute!"

"'Course you are," he replied casually as he lifted the rest of your dress off you, your bareness in plain sight for him to see. 

Oh, you thought to yourself, surprised that you were able to manage a lucid thought after such a vulgar kiss. He motioned for you to arch your back a little as his hands fiddled with the clasp of your brassiere. 

We're really doing it…

You tried to blink away your tears, only for Xanxus to flick out his tongue and lick them away. 

"Ah…?"

"Quiet," he grunted at you, his hand gently but firmly grasping your chin now. "…Now be a good girl and open your mouth for me."

You obliged with his command, parting your glossy lips enough for him to slide his tongue in your mouth. The sound of your quiet but pleased moans filled his ears, his blood rushing someplace else now. 

He groped your breasts once again, sinking his fingers into the plush of your skin. Your kiss was broken when he moved to lick and suck on your hardened and aroused nipples this time. 

"Ah—! W-Wait—!" Your voice echoed in his quarters, rebounding against the thick stone walls. If there was some comfort in this, it was the fact that no one else could hear you lose yourself to the ecstasy that was sex with your long-time unrequited-requited love. 

Your fingers weaved through his dark hair, tugging as you felt a buildup of odd sensations between your thighs. "Nngh… ahh…!"

He slid a hand over your thigh and slipped it under the waistband of your underwear— and you flinched, not at all prepared for the steady rhythm of his fingers running over your moist entrance. 

Xanxus felt you tremble underneath him as he thrust his middle and index fingers into you, his lips curling into a sadistic yet pleased smile as your expression faded into one of pleasure.

"You know your brother's gonna kill me if he finds out about this," he said with a chuckle, moving at a pace that seemed agreeable from the way your face contorted with sexual delight. 

Your brows furrowed at his remark as you threw a garbled response at him. "D-Don't t-talk about Sa— Salvatore nowww! Ah—!"

The way he touched you was measured and precise, evidently practiced, but you pushed that thought down as he nipped at your jaw. You coiled your arms around his neck and drew him in for a kiss, but even with his lips on yours, a myriad of tender-sounding moans escaped your mouth unbidden.  

And he relished it all. 

"Hhnn… Th-There—! Ah…"

"You like it there, then?" He asked you, and you could tell from the sensual sound of his voice that he was nothing but pleased with how honest you were being.

"Wa— Wait— Ah— I…" You whimpered with more tears in your eyes, prompting him to slow down. "I want to make you feel good, too…"

A shit-eating grin made its way to his face, though he tried not to show it. He drew his fingers out of your already sopping pussy and brought them to his mouth, the scent and moisture clinging onto his tongue and lips. It was your flavor.

You slowly sat up and… gave the bed a big pat, gesturing for him to lie back down. Perhaps books can never give justice to the real thing, but you weren't one to back down from a challenge. 

Xanxus couldn't believe that you were ordering him around at first, but lie down he did, his elbows supporting the rest of his torso. He spread his long legs across the bed while you positioned yourself between them, unable to read the expression on his face at all, but the warm bulge that tented his black pants said everything you needed to know. 

You ran your hands over the bulge and felt him shift ever so slightly, his gaze narrowing and darkening as you moved to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants this time. He followed your steady movement with bated breath, a low hiss leaving his lips as you pulled out his throbbing cock and stroked it with fervor, building a steady but gentle pace gentle before gradually increasing your speed, your hot breath ghosting against his length.

He tried to relax. Relax. But thoughts ran through his head, such as how he tainted the only sacred thing in his life— Even though he's wanted to do it for the longest time…  

You felt him slightly shudder against your touch, even more so when you opened your mouth to lick his tip and suck him bit by bit, until the entire thing vanished up to your throat.

"Tch… Where the fuck did you learn to use your smart mouth like that, you fucking brat?" He grunted at you, a mix of pleasure and annoyance in his voice. The guiding hand on the crown of your head slightly tightened its grip on you, a fistful of your hair bunched in his fingers now as he motioned for you to slow down and stop.

Dark tears streaked your face, the glitter of your eye makeup slightly blinding you as Xanxus gripped your chin and pulled you forward into his arms, warm lips crashing against warm lips as he maneuvered you to lie comfortably on your back. 

"I'm not stopping," he said as loomed over you once again, his black hair like a curtain concealing everything but his face, and that pleased expression he had on. He positioned himself between your thighs, callused hands sinking into your waist as he positioned you to receive him. "Not even if you ask me."

"Th-That's fine…" You replied with a tremble in your voice, the rest of your senses lost to you as you felt his length running over the burning wetness of your folds. "You don't h-have to hold back at all."

Gentleness was not his forte at all, and even though the edge and sharpness of the first thrust didn't last long, he couldn't help but piston into you, fucking you deep into the plush comforters until you scratched your throat from all of your moaning. 

The pleasure was so easy to get lost in with how closely held you, shifting positions until he felt your insides spasm in sheer delight, until he came and watched you overflow with his cum. You didn't even think of the consequences— burning hot as it was inside you. 

"X-Xanxus…" You cried out to him now. "Any more of this— I-I'll get pregnant…!"

You lost count now, stupefied by the satisfaction he granted to you, and even though you were pleading now, he didn't stop moving. Not when he could feel your insides coil around him like that. 

"It's fine."

"Wh-Whaddya mean it's fine? Ah…!"

"Yeah, that's fine," Xanxus stated with the same shit-eating smirk you've always adored, but it faded as he held your gaze and commanded— "Bear my child."

"Che cazzo! Are you fucking serio— Gh!"

He chuckled at your surprised face, your blissed-out face that made him pick up his speed again, but not before telling you, "I promise to take responsibility."

And he moved again, the blinding force and the fullness of his weight over you stealing your breath. Your lips were parted but no voice slipped out, and you could only cling onto him hopelessly. 

"H-Hey," you grunted at him as you palmed his face, brushing up his dark hair to reveal a sharp gaze fixed solely on you. "Make me your wife."

Xanxus laced his fingers with yours, his pace picking up that it almost made the entire bed move. He wanted to speak again, but figured it could wait— your pussy couldn't. 

"C… Cumming— hh—!" You cried out to him, stars in your eyes as you convulsed under his weight, your blinding climax followed by his own, white warmth spilled in your innermost core. A single stream of his semen seeped out as he pulled out of you, your heady breaths fogging your vision until a cloud of sleepiness landed on you. 

You fell into a cozy rest not long afterward, whispering stories of triumph and composing your speech for Salvatore, knowing he'd be the first to protest. As you were comfortably nestled on his side, using his long arm as a pillow, you drew unconcentrated circles on his chest until he broke the silence. 

"Stay here in Palermo with me," came his short statement, which sounded more like a command than a request. 

Still, he looked incredibly serious and your fat brain was telling you to rile him up. "Is that your idea of a proposal?" 

"What the fuck do you want me to say?"

"For starters, you can tell me… Well, I guess better tell you first since I happen to be sure about how I feel," you said, propping your chip up his chest to better see his reaction. "I love you."

Xanxus stared at you for what felt like hours, his hand running up and down your arm in a strange rhythm. 

"Cat got your tongue?" You teased him, only for him to tenderly whisper something in your ear in a heart-rending voice that drew out the tears in your eyes. 

"Voi siete il mio cuore, la mia anima e la mia vita." 

You are my heart, my soul, my life.

So you kiss him— and it might never be enough to take away all of his pain, but he assured you that it was enough. It will be now. You kissed him until his breath steadied and the sleep settled in his exhausted bones. Until he figured it was safe enough to do so, with you locked in his arms.  

It was the most restful night he had in ten years. 

Xanxus woke up with the morning sunlight tickling his face. He forgot that you didn't close the curtains last night. His dazed thoughts were rattled when he reached over the other side of the bed and found it empty. 

He sat up slowly and brushed up the dark hair over his face, chuckling at the realization that you had left before he could wake up.

"Tch. Little tramp."

— Ancora.

Xanxus knew he had to be prepared for anything the moment he set foot in Villa Andolini. Two weeks have passed since your supposed exchange of feelings and he hated being left to wonder. Why the hell did you leave without saying goodbye in the first place? Then again, he wouldn't be surprised if you changed your mind all of a sudden.

"Wondering will do nothing, boss!" One of his subordinates, Lussuria, commented on his wordless concern. "You two have known each other since forever! Surely any worries you have will vanish once you talk things out again."

Whatever worry he had on his mind was stamped out quickly when he laid eyes on you in your estate's orange grove, directing your family's soldato as they picked out the ripe oranges hanging from your trees. He had forgotten all about your family's harvesting season.

"Careful not to drop those, Lu. The fruit'll bruise and all— Oh! What a surprise!"

You beamed at the man in black from across your orange grove, removing your gardening gloves and pocketing them in your denim overalls. Your brother's men acknowledged your visitor with a short bow, leaving your presence after carefully stacking the wooden fruit crates close to the orchard's entry point. 

"The hell have you been up to?"

"Corporal punishment, or so my brother says. He lost his shit when I didn't return home last we met. He even beat the crap out of Luca even though I said it was my idea. But before everything else, I want to tell you that I really am pregnant. No surprises there," you said with a smile as you fished something out of your left pocket. It was a positive pregnancy test, something Xanxus cluelessly blinked at as you handed it to him. "You're lucky Salvatore isn't around today because he was so angry when he saw the test on my dresser."

"Where's he now?"

"Catania. His wife's new bakery's been keeping him busy lately. Papa's with him, too, since Niccolo wants to see him. I, on the other hand, have been given more responsibility around here even though I've been advised by our family doctor to slow down. Don't worry, though! I'm just ordering the men around and they've been making me laugh nonstop. Lu and everyone else said I could leave the heavy lifting to them," you stated, hands on your hips as you walked back into your house. "But now that you're here, I think I want to go to the beach today. And I'm kinda craving paninis."

"Making demands now, are we?" Xanxus chuckled, a guiding hand on your shoulders as you walked up the steps. 

"It's your big-headed kid making those demands, dumb ass," you laughed, slowly turning back to him in wonder. "Wait a sec, what are you doing here anyways?"

"Figured I'd do good on a promise I made, even though someone was drunk as a fuckin' bat when she told me," he stated, a hint of a laugh leaving through his nose as he pulled out a small ring box from his coat pocket. "I'm here to make you my wife."

"Well, what a lovely day this is. A ring, the beach, maybe some paninis, too," you remarked with a tender smile as you eyed the gold band around your ring finger, the single garnet adorned with even smaller diamonds glittering in the morning sun. The gemstone reminded you of his gaze, as though he was saying, "I've got my eye on you."

For all of his austerity, you knew for certain that Xanxus would be a good husband to you. He brought your hand to his lips and pressed kisses on your freezing knuckles to warm them up. 

"Xanxus, cuore mia… You don't have to keep on doing that anymore. You… might think you won't have a place in this world if you don't do as you're told, but he's wrong about that," you stated, bringing your hand to caress his cheek. "You'll always have a place here. With me. No matter what it is you've done, you're still you— still the same person I know and love. I have always loved."

I know, he thought to himself as he contentedly sank into your caress. There would be no more aimless wandering for him from now on. Not when he had a reason to come home. "I know."

🌺 Index of foreign words and phrases used (without translations): Riunione - Reunion Grazie - Thank you Chiama e Ritorna - Call and Return Congratulazioni - Congratulations Capo - Short for Caporegime, basically means mafia lieutenant Girasole - Sunflower Principessa - Princess Caro figlia - Dear daughter Soldato - Soldier, the lowest ranking member of mafia families Cafone - Peasants Che cazzo! - What the fuck! Ancora - Anchor Cuore mia - My heart

🌺 Author's note:

"What, a fic?! And for KHR, too! I thought you were on a break, Mari!" I still am! But you know how slithery brain worms can get when you leave them be? I wrote this after checking out old drafts in my old email! And guess what the original part was. It was the smut scene, of all things. That piece of smut was one of the few fics I wrote back when I was still so, so madly in love with the series. It was not my best work, but 23-year-old Mari did what she could with what knowledge she had back then lol. (Of course, what you read now was fine-tuned to my current knowledge.)

And I can't believe I wrote a whole ass background story around the smut, which is only like 15% of this entire fic. Someone shoot me already.

KHR remains my Roman Empire to this very day. I still hope for the day the remaining manga arcs get animated. A girl can dream! And if you've noticed, this piece is riddled with The Godfather references and many other things... And yes, this piece is indeed named after that one Vocaloid song. (How low can I go, you ask?!) There were no themes of poisoning here. It was actually just the tequila.

As always, I hope this finds the target audience, and I truly hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. 🧡

Skull

You were…surprised by how well Skull cleaned up, considering his default outfit consisted of his motorcycle suit. Even so, it took you awhile of gawking at him in the entrance to your shared bedroom before he became flustered.

“W-What?” He rubbed his arm. “Do I look bad? I knew I should’ve taken out my lip piercing, dammit, your parents wouldn’t like that…” he mumbled, turning to walk away.

He was interrputed by your arms wrapping around his middle, holding him in place. He called out your name, flustered, before you answered. 

“You look amazing.” He shivered at the lust weighing down your words, how riled up you suddenly sounded. “So sexy, in fact, I might have to cancel plans with them….” 

Tsuna

Even though he was the boss of a mafia family, he still struggled with things like putting on his tie. You smiled as you offered your help and he sheepishly agreed.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he admitted, as you looped his tie around into a knot.

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “Well,” you said, stepping back to survey your work, and discreetly, the rest of him. Tsuna was always a cutie, but he had matured into such a… fine specimen. Especially in that suit. “I think you look… capable without me. Very capable. Boss.” You winked.

His eyes darkened, his hand shooting out to grasp your wrist before spinning you towards him. You landed in his arms with a squeak, his breath warm against your face, his gaze molten. 

“Boss, huh. I wonder what other names you’ll be calling me tonight.”

Xanxus

If he wasn’t so sexy in that suit, you would say he was an arrogant asshole. As it was, he was still both.

Some lackey from a small family had been chatting you up a little too friendly at the gala, and once Xanxus took notice, you can damn well be sure he told that trash to get a fucking life. But not before groping your ass in front of him, before declaring you were his woman.

And now you were in the bathroom, your legs wrapped around his frame, while he held you propped against the wall. His hand groped your breast roughy.

“Stupid. Why the hell are you entertaining loser trash?” He grunted. The sleeves of his jacket were shoved down, revealing his white button up.

You knew you shouldn’t incite him even further, but at the same… the sex was so much hotter when he was. 

“Maybe I just wanted to see you when riled up.”

No one came into the bathroom that night, deterred by the sounds the two of you made.

Yamamoto

Takeshi was trying on the suit the Vongola tailor had made for him, and he asked for your opinion. You were surprised when you walked into the dressing room, and he wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

“Takeshi?” You called out, before nearly screaming when you felt a hand wrap around your eyes. 

“Shh, it’s me.” You would recognize that playful voice anywhere.

“God, you scared me,” you said, swatting his hand away, before turning to face him…. Oh. Before ogling the way his slacks clung to his thighs, the way his shoulders looked so broad in that suit.

Yamamato, ever-observant, noticed your stare. You missed the wicked grin that stretched his face.

“Like what you see?” His voice was husky, and sent shivers down your spine.

✧ Dino Cavallone

He’s a sweetheart through and through pleaseeee he is very well-mannered, would never engage in any kind of degradation, only has the sweetest praises, and has an interesting.. thing about cum.

“Nngh.. haahh.. baby please, you’re gonna make me cum if you don’t stop-fuck!” His chest heaves, breathing ragged as he tenses, throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut as his orgasm crashes over him. He’s left panting, legs feeling wobbly, and seeing stars in the edges of his vision as he cups your face and leans in for the sweetest kiss.

୨୧ ⁺˳₊

“Tell me how much you want it.. how much you want my cum.. how you want me to put a baby in you, pleasepleaseplease yesyesyes,” he picks up the pace slightly as he chases that high, firmly rutting them into you, deep and unrelenting, as if he was actually trying to achieve what he was babbling about. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, letting out a breathy whine as he scrambles to unwrap your legs from around his waist. His hips stutter as he moves to hook his arms under your legs and push your knees down into a mating press. He wants nothing more in that moment than to ensure that he spills himself as deep in you as he can, because he likes to keep his promises, of course.

✧ Hibari Kyoya

I am biased b/c my favourite take on Hibari (next to acearo Hibari) is the one who’s secretly a service top in disguise. One who shows tough love, but has mellowed out with age and is fairly domestic (though still quite icy) at the end of the day. Taking his affinity for the small, often overlooked, but resourceful creatures, and extending that to what he likes in his partners. Something about being called, “little one”, by him... drools.

He often takes on quite the authoritative tone, and it’s literally the sexiest thing I’m sosorry y’all. Hibari is initially not as talkative, fairly quiet during sex, aside from giving instructions, and some small comments and mostly matter-of-fact statements. He can and will be convinced to include more praise and/or degradation in the bedroom, though it confuses him at first. He doesn’t understand why his partner would want him to purposefully shit talk them, and he was sure that he praises them enough, straightforwardly, when appropriate. It finally clicks when he sees how they absolutely melt for a simple “good pet,” or how they tense and squirm for him when he calls them a “pathetic hole, so desperate to be filled.”

“Patience, dove..” He mumbles, barely above a whisper, as he finishes tying off the last of the restraints. You’re already leaking and dripping down your thighs for him in the build up, the anticipation swimming laps in the pit of your stomach. The way he speaks as if nothing’s happened just makes you ache more.

୨୧ ⁺˳₊

“Do you want it? Hmmpf. Tell me what you want. Use your words,” is closest he will get to cooing at you, when he’s firmly demanding that you explicitly describe just how you want him, encouraging the most obscene words to spill from your trembling lips. A calloused hand grabs you by the jaw, turning your head to face him and look him in the eyes, and you feel your face burning in embarrassment.

✧ Superbia Squalo

Cocky bastard. Has no shame. Ego through the roof. You know this guy talks.

“D’ya like that? Yeah? Yeah, I can tell- fuck, the way you squeeze around me when I do this.. you gonna cum? Gonna make a mess, huh?” He exhales in such a way that it’s almost a chuckle, grinning ear to ear as he watches you squirm under him and reach your peak, not stopping what he’s doing until you’re twitching and tearing up, begging him to stop because you’re too sensitive to bear it anymore.

"Too much? You didn't think it'd be too much when you were rubbing me so desperately through my pants, huh? Open that smart mouth for me, darling." You hate that the only times he uses pet names is to mock you, and you hate that you're too holes-for-brains to do anything but obey when he gets sassy with you.

✧ Xanxus

Not much of a talker, and honestly is usually pretty rude. The only times he really says much is if you specifically ask him to talk dirty to you. If you don’t ask for it ahead of time, he’s very much a guy who speaks just to give instructions, and maybe warn you that he’s gonna bust.. and to prepare yourself for round two.. and three.. and f-

“Shut up, fuck.. lift your ass up.. ngh, finally making yourself useful,” he grumbles as he roughly fills you again, calloused hands gripping your waist roughly, sure to leave bruises tomorrow morning. “A bunny for breeding, is what you are..”

୨୧ ⁺˳₊

“Cum,” he instructs, short nails digging into the plush of your hips as he moves you, dragging you over his cock. “Right fuckin’ now, or else.” And you do. You shake in his hold and your walls spasm around him, because it feels so damn good, and because you know that if you don’t follow his command, he won’t give you another chance to reach your own high.

A clear and cloudless night sky hung over the ruins of the mansion. Most of the damage had taken place during the course of Xanxus’s fight with the Varia's resident prince’s insane brother earlier that evening, but plenty more had been added by personal scuffles in the time since. Much of these scuffles remained ongoing. The boss had demanded your presence, and no sooner had you set foot in the living room claimed by the captains than did you find yourself in the midst of an active war zone.

To say you were surprised would be a lie. You might have been a practiced lair, but to do so just then would have been more of a hindrance than a help. Fran was being his usual idiot self; Bel had retaliated by turning him and the mantle into pincushions; Squalo was screaming at them to stop; and Lussuria was fussing over Xanxus, who looked fit to murder every single one of the others. The only member intelligent enough to shut the hell up was Levi, who did so out of no actual intelligence, but rather because he was still too much in awe from Xanxus’s earlier battle to speak.

So like any sane person, you suggested they play a game to pass the time until the message came in from Japan. Since you happened to have a pack of cards on you (it got boring, hanging out with the rest of the plebs), you figured that was that. You and Xanxus could have some quality time in one of the un-destroyed bedrooms while the children entertained themselves. 

No such luck. Apparently Squalo didn’t think you two ought to be busy when the orders from the Tenth finally arrived. Several wine bottles broken over Squalo’s head later, Xanxus joined the game himself. Meanwhile, you settled into the all-important task of lounging around in Xanxus’s lap, seeing as that was the closest you were going to get to his dick until Squalo got the one out of his own rear end. 

Now, this might have appeared at first glance to be nothing more than you capitalizing on the opportunity to spy on the Varia’s captains while scoring some much needed physical contact time with Xanxus–and it definitely was. But your doing so also provided some incentive for him to not throw the entire table across the room when he started getting pissy, not that your presence always stopped him from doing so. Still, you could at least pretend you were being useful.

“Oh, isn’t this just wonderful?” Lussuria said. “I can’t remember the last time we all had a family game night together like this!”

“That’s probably because you’re all sore losers,” you said.

Squalo glared at you from across the sword-scratched table. “Oi, bitch. What are you still doing here?”

You smiled your brightest, most annoying smile. “Xanxus told me to come. Isn’t that right, Xanxus?”

Xanxus grunted, then threw down a card. This was answer enough for Squalo to return, scowling, to poker. This was also answer enough to get Levi to shoot you a look of purest venom over his hand. 

Your grin grew larger still as you waved at him from your perch. You were long used to Levi’s sullen behavior toward you. After all, you had won Xanxus’ affections where he had not. Unfortunately, you bragging was short lived; you felt Xanxus shift impatiently underneath you, and you quickly returned to caressing his jaw. Maybe “affection” wasn't quite the right word.

“Bel, quit stalling. It’s your turn,” Lussuria said.

Xanxus growled.

If he really decided to throw the table, he wouldn’t hesitate to throw you along with it. What Xanxus felt for you wasn’t love, of that you were absolutely sure. You’d be kidding yourself if you said you loved him, too. He was temperamental, violent, and downright demanding. He was also pretty damn good in the sack, and handsome and powerful to boot. There was also the slimmest chance that he’d be Vongola XI someday, and then he’d need heirs–preferably legitimate ones. Sour looks from Levi and being dragged (sometimes literally) out of bed whenever Xanxus decided he needed a woman seemed a small price to pay for all that.

This card game affair was pretty tedious, though. You wondered if you could push Xanxus far enough that he’d ignore Squalo and take you somewhere more private. Surely Xanxus was rife with sexual frustration after dealing with Bel’s irritating brother all day. Typically Bel himself was enough to accomplish that much.

“Play, trash!” Xanxus barked.

Bel grinned and slapped his cards onto the table. “It’s no fun playing without Mammon. No stakes.”

“No being completely bankrupt after the first round either,” Levi said over his turn. “This is much safer.”

“Mah, I agree with Bel. If I’d know things would be this boring, I would’ve stayed home for this mission,” Fran said dully.

“You would not, because this is your goddamn job!” Squalo shouted.

“Wouldn’t’ve been able to sleep anyway. I could hear Captain Squalo’s yammering from that far away. I’d still have a headache.”

“Voi! What was that, brat? Want to say that again?”

“Boys, boys, stop fighting! What would your father think?” Lussuria crooned.

You could hardly suppress a smirk at Xanxus’s knuckles going pale around his cards. Just a little further…

“I have an idea,” you announced.

The room fell silent save for an owl hooting in one of the exposed branches far above your heads. Then:

“Your first idea sucks as it is,” Fran said. “I don’t think we need any more of [Name]’s suggestions.”

“For once, he’s right. Get the hell out of here, woman. Don’t you have work to do?” Squalo asked.

Xanxus’s grip on you turned to iron, a sure sign that if you so much as tried to listen to Squalo and leave, you would regret it. Luckily, you had no intention of leaving when things were finally getting a little interesting. Ignoring their rejection, you plowed right on:

“You said you wanted stakes, right? How about a game of strip poker?”

More silence.

“Strip…poker?” a red-faced Levi echoed at last.

“I don’t mind the idea,” said Lussuria.

“Voi! Why the hell are you still listening to her? Who wants to see you morons naked anyway?”

“If I lose enough, I could finally take off this stupid frog hat Bel makes me wear,” Fran mused.

“Not on your life, Froggy. Take it off, and I’ll kill you,” said Bel.

“Mah, so Bel will let me win just to keep an ugly hat on? Sounds like he’s pretty desperate to show off for Captain Lussuria.”

“You think so? Better play well. For you, a game of strip poker is life or death.” Bel’s usual Cheshire grin vanished only to return a mere split-second later wider than ever before. “Shishishi. The prince knows what [Name] is up to.”

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, you do, do you? Enlighten me.'

“Of course. Because he’s a genius, he knows [Name] only suggested strip poker because she’ll get to see all of us naked, but no way will the boss let us see her naked. Buuuut…” he slipped a knife out of seemingly nowhere, “I could still cut her clothes off and give the rest of us a show.”

Wrong answer-but it did the trick. The table exploded in a flurry of cards, chips, and sawdust. This time, though, you were not tossed in with the broken furniture. Instead, Xanxus threw you over his shoulder as he leveled one gun at Bel’s fat blond head.

“Handle the Vongola message yourself, scum,” Xanxus growled.

You flashed yet another smile, waving as Xanxus turned to carry you up the demolished stairs. The looks on Bel and Squalo’s faces boded ill for you–but they turned on each other before they could even think of trying to prevent you from leaving with the boss.

“You just got me more work, you goddamn idiot prince!”