TYL!Mafia!Vongola/You

[mafiabosstsuna]

Thoughts on Mafia Bosses

So I always had this head-canon that Dino, Tsuna, Enma and Byakuran may act and seem friendly but at heart they are true mafia bosses. Like there is an untameable beast in them and slowly, as they fit into their roles as Dons, it unleashes. It’s like they are willing to do unthinkable, wrong things for the right reasons.

 I believe that the KHR!bosses are anti-heroes at heart. Slowly time in the Mafia changes them and they do enjoy the benefits (women, money, power) but they are there for their family and have very strong principles. 

 And tyl!Tsuna- well he’s the king of the underworld. He has a control over the worst monsters the world has to offer. And that’s only possible if he’s the deadliest monster of them all. 

 That’s what intrigues me about the mafia in general. The mafia is like a criminal organization with principles and that’s what makes it so sexy. 

 You know, when wicked has a good side?

[mafiabosstsuna]

The post that started it all. Thank you so much for sticking around the last two and a half years! What a journey it’s been ❤️

[mafiabosstsuna]

Hanahaki Disease Prompt

Begonia, with its pink fading petals swirled together, was known most for its Victorian interpretation as a warning.

Beware.

It was the first flower that you had coughed up, staring at the fistful of slimy and bloodstained flowers, before you tossed them into the trash and desperately tried to forget about it.

Desperately tried to ignore the burning sensation that spread throughout your chest as the days passed (of fire that licked away at your insides, curling tightly into the cavern of your heart where you would press your hand tenderly, trying to swallow back the pained hiss when it stung worse on other days). Desperately tried to ignore the slowly suffocating feeling in your lungs (as if something were clinging to the inside of the organ, blocking out the air you so desperately tried to take in).

But forgetting and trying to move on was hard to do (coughing and gagging up the first flowers had really hurt, but it did not compare to the days after, with the horrible realization that flowers were growing inside your lungs, ripping it apart forcibly from where it had settled), especially when the Begonia flowers then turned to Antirrhinum, which, if you had studied correctly, meant, I am flattered with false hopes.

You weren't certain what sort of disease had sprouted into your lungs, but you were certain (after a long moments consideration, rubbing at your chest slowly as your breathed through sawing gasps) that it wouldn’t be something that you could simply hope would go away. It had ripped up parts of your lung, tearing at your insides, and pooling blood along with the roots of the flower. More than that, how did flowers even begin growing there?

(Soul flames had been something of a stretch to begin with, listening to the whispers of each colour, of the manifestation elements that could be within a single living being. Now magical, deadly flowers?)

You glanced at the flowers still in your hands, and carefully tossed them into the trash as well.

.

.

Cherry, Jerusalem.

Deception.

You supposed that flower was a fair choice, as you had told no one of the flowers growing inside your lungs. There was no thought of even wanting to, wishing to avoid the arguments (of hopeful eyes and disappointed murmurs when there could be nothing done to stop your lungs from creating more flowers) and the scrutiny you knew would come should anyone hear of it (of being prodded and examined, body opened up just to look inside and find the garden growing there, of the pretty death that wouldn't end no matter how much it seemed impossible).

If you were going to die, you would die in peace, you decided. With laughter and warm skies, and glimmering eyes of the people you loved most. Even as the flowers began to fill the house, blood, and sickness filling the air.

You would not say a word.

(Placing a hand against your breastbone, slanting your body away even as you spoke softly, trying to make sure that the agitation in your throat wouldn't cause another episode. Not here, not where everyone can see, and find the truth you wanted them to be no part of.)

"I'll be right back, okay?"

And when they would leave, images fading into the distance, you would shuffle backwards, pressing a trembling hand to your mouth as you began to hack and gag violently. The flowers coming out without pause, with petals coated in blood and roots tangling inside your throat; pulling them out with your bare hands, hoping to just catch even a single breath.

You stared at the wet flower, turning it slowly around in your hand, before dropping it to the ground.

.

.

It was a mistake to have turned right instead of left in the corridor.

Shamal was staring at the dogwood flower you had gagged up, and then looked to you, pale and shaking with wet, glazed eyes and a pitiful gasp as you tried to bring air into your lungs (only feeling the burning at your chest, and the odd sensation of something tickling your lungs. Another flower was still there, shaking inside your body, and wanting to come up).

False pretensions.

You wondered if it was too late to leave, to hope that he wouldn't say a single thing.

But when his face turned serious, you realized, that wouldn't be so.

"Hanahaki... disease?" You whispered, listening to the explanation of what was occurring to you. But from what Shamal had gathered it was meant to be a fictional disease, and yet you were living proof that it wasn’t so, that the disease does exist (and you wondered vaguely, at the back of your mind if the disease had been made into a story because the reality of what it was, was too much to bear). "But I don’t, I don't love anyone. Not like that." I don't think.

The dogwood sitting on the table said otherwise.

[mafiabosstsuna]

Tsunas S/O giving themselves up to the enemy in order to ensure the survival of the Guardians.

"How could I leave her?"

The words are whispered softly, yet they spear through the silence like a blade.

"All on her own, all the way down there?"

Tsuna's hands clench into fists, and there is horrible nausea in the pit of his stomach.

He hadn't thought you would do something like that. He didn't think for one moment you would slip in and bargain their way out, eyes gleaming and face set grimly. (Your back turned to the exit, tension coiled in your shoulders and the sharp, barely wavering tone of your voice as you brought up the ultimatum. The earpiece in your hand being dropped to the floor as you moved forward, further and further away.) What had made him think that he shouldn't stay?

That he shouldn't have run back – (but it is in the tired, painful wheezing that makes him consider the moment. It makes him turn his head to his friends, to his family, the ones who are Guardians to his Sky, and Tsuna swallows.) But it is the soft murmurs of the healers, of tired eyes and trembling hands that has Tsuna realising that he had done so for the others, for their survival, because you had asked it of him.

"I want your promise."

But were you not also one of his?

(He recalls warm smiles beneath hanging stars, and a soft voice following small hands that would reach out to his own, with a promise that made his chest flutter with a long since forgotten sort of peace.)

Even if you were not an active flame user, you were still part of his own.

And he let you go.

"Tsuna," The words are said in a quiet, hesitant tone and he can feel it already, even as his entire body rebels against the thought (even as guilt eats away at his heart).

He should have stayed.

"I'm sorry..."

He doesn't want to hear those words though.

He wants to go back and fix the mistake of leaving you behind, of not grasping your open hand and rushing out with everyone else.

"But she's already gone."

He wants to go back and fix the thought, the idea that you would be fine, even when he knew in the very back of his head you would not be. That even as the bargain was given, someone had to go.

(The man’s laughter had sent chills down his spine, even as he urged the others to continue on, to ignore the dread that was in the air and - don’t look back with those eyes. Don’t give him those eyes when his chest is already hurting, don’t give him those eyes that tell him - Tsuna flinches when the door shuts, but he doesn’t look back.)

He buries his face in his hands, breathing slowly, trying to understand, even as he knows that it was his own choice. (Even as he tries to reason that you had asked it of him, glancing just for a split second, a brittle smile on your lips that just knows.)

“Why didn’t I stay?”

The silence is engulfing. And Tsuna wonders if the pain in his chest is from the loss or the guilt.

[mafiabosstsuna]

I don’t know if this ask ever made it through, so sorry if it’s a repeat if it did but; Xanxus and Squalo in a poly relationship with their SO and they’ve found out that she hid the fact that she’s ran into problems at her college when people found out that she has two boyfriends?

Their words are poison.

It's slipping into the cracking defences, burning at the flesh and insides you tried so hard to protect. You can feel it spread through you, a thick substance that is eating away at your heart, at your head, and you can't help but want to cry out.

Instead, you bit your lip, over-bright eyes searching for an escape in the narrowing hallway, and the collapsing world around you. Your body is trembling, and you quickly dart under an arm that flings in front of you; heart racing with each painful step you take. Their words are flung around, raining down upon you without stop, and you knew they would. Whispers and taunts following along behind you, around you, in front of you, even when you closed your eyes and tried to pretend that the world didn't feel like it was closing in.

(You stopped praying a long time ago.)

There is silence on the outside.

The walls are not constricting, and the people that swayed in the halls were not closing in. Out here the endless possibilities were everywhere, and you raced forwards, searching for it (heart fluttering and the thought that there is freedom here underneath the open skies). The poison lingers, but it does not burn as intensely as it did minutes before. Instead, it settles into your body, leaving you aching and strangely numb. It is a disconcerting feeling (different to the heat that burned at your fingers when you worked tirelessly, and eyes heaving with sleep, but so accomplished and glittering with success).

Wasn't college supposed to be the start of new beginnings?

You had hoped so dearly for it.

It had started so nicely too.

(Friendly gazes and open hands that lead you to your unsteady feet and made you swallow your fears. Such kindness, such wide smiles, and tender grazing hands. But every kindness holds its own shadows, and you failed to see the flickering narrowed eyes on your back, and the nails that dug into your palms with every hand you took.)

But it didn't last that way, and all because someone had found out.

Who had heard of it? Who had heard of what you wanted so desperately to keep hidden?

You weren't certain where it had started from, only that the truth had spread quickly, and the glimmering lights of the classrooms had turned glaring and harsh.

"Two lovers?"

The whispers.

"Who even does that?"

The judgmental gazes.

"Do you think she's whoring herself out to them?"

The amused, cruel, and grilling gossip.

"If you want more than just two, I'm sure if you spread your legs out more, you'll get them."

And the laughter. The misconception that leads to more things you had no desire of even getting anywhere near.

(The hands that wandered, and the sharp laughter, followed by taunting words that it was so, like you. Stop pretending to be something you’re not. Even when you fought, rage blistering underneath your skin, and the crawling disgust that made you flinch away, when their eyes flickered over to you, a hunger you wanted no part of.)

Your fingers gripped at your hair, hissing sharply from the pain when you tugged at them.

Who had learned of it?!

(You had done everything to make sure no one knew. But you're best was just not good enough.)

Grass crunched underneath footfalls, and you turned abruptly, searching the area with a critical eye. But you found nothing there, nothing but the silence and the still shadows. You slowly turned your body, shoulders tense and mind warring. It was, after all, not the first time someone had followed after you.

(Fear of being caught more painful than the bruising settling onto your skin, and the torn flesh from nails digging into your forearms and shoulders. Because if you were caught, you dreaded what they would do. Dreaded so much what the base hunger of open mouths and misconstrued thoughts would lead to.)

You breathed out slowly.

Perhaps... it would be best to go home?

(Back to the quiet of the rooms, and the safety of burning, scarred hands being compared to a cool, calloused one. Of narrowed red peering down at you with more intensity than the grey beside you, looking at you, patiently.)

You rubbed your cheek, wondering what you would say to Squalo and Xanxus.

You hadn't even informed them of what was occurring, choosing to hide away every tear and every gasping fear when you went out. Back to the familiar winding roads towards the campus, with the thought that the day would get worse before it got better.

(You didn't use to be like this, you knew it just by picking up the photos in your bedroom. Staring at the smaller, still-image of yourself whose smiles were calm and shoulders relaxed. Not a single wavering twitch of the lips, or the coiled tension spilling over the back. Not like it was now. How long ago had it been since you looked like this person in the picture? Of you from before, with thoughts that everything would be okay.)

But one of them would ask. You knew one of them would, their lingering gazes were telling enough, more than the feeling of their flames licking your skin in question.

Perhaps you could lie, say that it had been a half day. Or perhaps I can wander around. The thought settled in your head, and the longer you thought about it, the more appealing it felt. You turned left, and followed a different path, breathing a little easier now without the looming threat of having to face the questions you were certain would come from your early arrival back from school.

Besides, it was such a beautiful day to wander the meandering paths settled inside the park, to gaze at the mature trees and marvel over the small handfuls of people out and about instead of being stuck inside a building (such as the dog walkers who followed dutifully after their canine. Or the youths playing on the grassy areas. Picnic tables set up by small families, and benches occupied by resting individuals). You spotted a squirrel racing past, chasing after a chittering chipmunk that was hoarding something atop one of the trees.

Already you could feel yourself calming, enjoying the sounds of birds splashing in one of the fountains, and the laughter of children, and barking dogs.

You glanced around for a place to sit, and then noticed something odd.

There was someone with a school bag walking over the tiny bridge. It was a familiar bag, and further inspection showed that the person was staring at you. It made your heart jump, and you shuffled backwards. More so because you realized, it was Xanxus on that bridge and he really didn't look happy.

You spun on your heel to run, only to be quickly intercepted by Squalo, and where had he even come from?!

“S-Squalo!” You said, shifting uncomfortably in place. “What brings you out and uh, about, on this fine day?”

His gaze was measured, considering, and then he sighed. “Come on, we’re going home.”

You’ve never felt so cold before at the thought of going home. But for some odd reason, you felt your heart drop, and your mouth going dry.

They knew.

[mafiabosstsuna]

Giotto, Alaude, and Fon falling in love with their s/o but not realizing it until s/o starts falling in love or goes out with someone else.

Giotto:

"Do you think you'll ever love someone, Giotto?"

The question was said simply, almost in a drawling manner, and he had to look up to make sure you actually wanted an answer. You were staring at him expectantly, fingers drumming against the underside of your jaw as you kept most of your weight to the left of your arm.

"I don't think I'd ever really know." He admitted, glancing back to the papers he had been idly working through. "It isn't something I particularly think about. It's why I have you, isn't it?"

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, long enough for him to believe that the conversation was over. Then small hands were on the edge of the table, and he flicked to them momentarily, before resuming to his work. Your voice drifted softly, a certainty being declared as you leaned against the frame of the table...

He didn’t recognize it all at once, the love, the deep adoration that bounced off his chest when he was around you. It was drowned away by the convenience of the relationship, the idea that nothing would come to fruition because he had willed it that way. He did not realize it at all, even when the sweetness of your presence brought him great peace. But now he could, tasting the sourness at the back of his throat when you spoke those words to him, eyes glittering with the warmth when all he felt was an unbearable cold.

Your cheeks were flushed, smiling beautifully as you continued to speak, not even seeming to notice that Giotto was falling away from the moment, drowning in the ringing that was in his ears as he tried to regain his breath. Yet the words you had spoken lingered, leaving him deaf and blind.

"I'd like to end this, Giotto. I found someone I'd like to pursue."

His entire posture slumped slightly, mouth opening and closing. He felt lightheaded, trying to make sense of the jumbled noise in his head. Yet all he could tell with certainty was that you were vibrating with joy, appearing so pleased even while he felt as if everything was suddenly falling apart.

"Are you alright, Giotto?" Your tone was uncertain, frowning at him now.

Your hand reached out, gently cupping his face.

He jerked backwards, startled by the warmth that radiated from you, comforting and much too familiar for his comfort.

Your hands were surprisingly soft, stroking his cheeks gently while he leaned in. The building headache of the day that had started to settle slowly fading away with each menstruation. He blinked slowly, having not even realized he had pressed himself so closely that he had bent forwards, listening to your heartbeat.

You didn’t seem to mind, humming a soundless tune underneath your breath.

You opened your eyes and gazed down at him, tilting your head just the slightest bit to the right so you could see him better.

"Better now?" The inquiry was soft, calming and filled with kindness.

It was the first of many more.

"W-what?" He stuttered.

You pursed your lips but repeated yourself.

The tightness in his stomach didn’t lighten up. In fact, it just seemed to get worse and Giotto swallowed back the irrational need to demand his questions, to find out who it was you were wanting to pursue, and the odd burning anger restlessly settling in his chest.

"With, uh, who, if I may ask?"

You eyed him slowly, contemplating of asking if he was truly alright considering he was clearing his throat a little awkwardly. But you brushed off the oddness in his actions, telling him simply of who had caught your eye, ignorant of the flexing fingers at his side that belayed his rage.

"I see,"

Giotto was finding it very hard to control himself. Especially now that he was starting to figure out that he really didn’t like the thought of you leaving, of watching you walk away and giving away every sweet thing you had never spoken in the silence between the two of you to someone else.

Alaude:

You knew you were a small part of his life.

Insignificant.

Not particularly of any importance, but you existed nonetheless, there, in the very bases of his senses.

Such a tiny life that fluttered, and blinked in and out of existence constantly.

You knew very well that nothing would come from this, that this position you held was superficial at best. The logic of this didn’t account for your heart beating insistently within your chest, calling for attention the man that was your boss. You had hoped desperately that it would cease, that your hand could muffle the sound that painfully throbbed through your entire body.

Each day it felt as if it never would.

Until suddenly the pain of it lessened, it didn’t leave, the adoration you felt for him, but the anguish and the sharp pain that made it hard to look him in the eyes did ease. It began to slip away the further you moved away, turning your gaze to a young man that had been very kind to you. Offering soft pleasantries and warm smiles.

There was nothing particularly moving about, nothing that made him distinguishable like Alaude and yet the ink-stained hands were soothing against your senses. Bringing with him a calmness you had never felt around Alaude, a peace that made you smile.

"Did I say you could leave?"

Alaude was different though. He made your heart beat furiously as if you were choking on the feelings bubbling in your chest. But you wondered if it were out of admiration or fear, flinching away from the hands that reached out for you (the same hands that had, just moments before dragged the man you had begun to tentatively care for, into the room. Twisting and yanking pained cries and sobbing pleads for mercy from him without pause, eyes cold and flinty all the while), brushing against your ashen cheeks.

Fon:

Sometimes he thought you could taste you in the air, of sugar spun bread and Ambrose that lingered in the air when he woke, only to realize that it was a fading scent that was no longer there. Quickly overpowered by the sour, fading scent of burning, stale candle wax sitting near the window.

Sometimes he thought he heard you in the quiet, laughter keeping him up in the nights when he desperately yearned for you, searching in the darkness of his room where the shadows played tricks on him, reaching for a ghost that wasn’t even there.

He wondered when you had become such a vital part of his life. Wondering when he had begun to yearn for the warmth of your person, uncomfortable by the cold, stretching piece of the bed that you had once occupied. Wondering when he had begun to feel comfortable in the noise, with pattering feet slipping down the hall and soft greetings in the morning when he would follow after.

He hadn't thought it plausible, and yet when you had slipped out of that door, so had every single expanse of warmth you had brought with you and in its place was a deep chilling cold.

You had left him long ago, and yet you were still everywhere to him.

It almost felt as if you had become a ghost, and yet Fon knew very well where you had turned, where you left to. But the thought of it, of knowing, made his lips press together into a grimace. Knowing in the deepest part of him that you were in a different bed, bringing warmth to someone else; eyes glimmering as you whispered softly to –

Fon swallowed, fingers flexing stiffly from the clenched fists he had them in just minutes before.

It wasn’t your fault.

It wasn’t your fault how much you wanted, even when Fon knew that he should have said something, put a stop to it before it unravelled into a large mess. He just hadn't realized how much he had become accustomed to it all, to the softness of your expression and the steady look of your gaze; of flushed cheeks and a radiant smile.

Yet, now, that everything was being given to someone else, and Fon found himself stumbling, losing his footing in the dark.

It was uncomfortable and he wondered for the longest time why his shoulders curled, hands trembling with barely restrained focus when he spotted you with someone else (eyes shining, and rapt attention to the man next to you, leaning into the body that drew you in closer).

"Are you an idiot?" Reborn asked, eyebrow-raising high as he turned his attention to Fon.

It was Fon's fault for not realizing it sooner, for waiting so long to understand that, despite himself, his heart yearned.

[mafiabosstsuna]

Prompt for Reborn

Her skin was like leather, taught unnaturally over cheeks and lips puckered so tight you thought she would suffocate. But you remembered how she used to be, with bright eyes instead of the sunken slits now etched onto her face; apple warm cheeks instead of the thin cut bones now trying to pierce through the skin, and a nose while crooked now seemed to be larger and drawn with attention.

It almost seemed as if her face had been cut and pasted together, painfully sewn to try and make something pretty that fell short too far to the left.

She didn’t always look like that (her eyes looked so exhausted and brittle, shoulders tensing as she felt the lingering gazes and hushed whispers around her). She used to be different, with baby soft skin and such a pretty face. Perhaps homely, certainly, but you had always thought she was pretty despite it all.  

"Don't be dramatic, it's only some plastic."

The words you remembered your father speaking to your mother, his eyes dark and face set into a condescending smile, whispering softly to her and urging her hesitation away, to trust him, to take another step and –

(He had been unable to bare looking at her, eyes turned away as his voice sharply told her to look into the mirror. The bandages he had been eagerly stripping away from her face, slipping from his fingers, and she stumbled, trembling hands reaching for the vanity mirror where she stopped. Her eyes widening in horror before she screamed.)

She was your mother, but sometimes you felt so bitter when you stood next to her, knowing she had changed for a man that hadn't ever once appreciated her as she was. With her heart so big and eyes filled with hope, and such innocence. But more than that you felt bitter because of what it had made her into.

(Her eyes were wet with tears as she peered out the window, her gloved hands trembling, watching as he seduced another woman with the same pretty features she once had. Doing the same things, he had done for her, to reel her in with sugar spun words and soft flowers in the hair. Of warm hands in her own and gentle kisses to the palm, as if she were the most important thing in the world, only to hide her away when she wasn't what he wanted anymore. She stumbled backwards, touching her face with sharp, gasping breathes.)

"No one will love you if you're unattractive."

She had broken apart, even as she tried so hard to patch up the mismatched stitches they had made of her. With makeup carefully applied, and silk spun clothes decorating her body, pretending as if nothing had gone wrong as if everything had turned out alright even when they both knew it had not.

(The woman milled about, gossiping quietly, unaware of the child that listened, holding onto a doll with a face cut open. They tittered, pointing at the hostess of the party, sneering at the misplaced makeup that made sunken eyes even darker, and pink lipstick made puckered lips look bruised and unnatural.)

"Does a new face come with a warranty?"

You wondered though when his words became her own. When had they entranced so deeply into her being that –

"It's such a waste when little girls grow into their mother's face."

Her smile was bitter, and her entire posture hunched in disappointment. She couldn’t even look at you, at the face that so resembled the woman she used to be, and she gave a heavy sigh. Her voice was soft but punctuated, familiar words spilling from her lips, so familiar that your mouth slacked open, at a loss for words.

You gave a noisy breath, jerkily shaking your head even as you tried to understand what was occurring. It seemed almost inconceivable and yet you could see it there on her face, that she truly believed it would be better to allow people to stick pins into your skin like a vegetable. Speaking to you in that same soft, childish tone, as if you were a simpleton that needed to be coaxed to make the right choice.

Your arms swept into a wide gesture as you glared back at her, voice shaking as you tried to make her see reason.

"If you want a little more confidence,"

Her body tensed in response, face reddening underneath the makeup she wore. Her lips were curling, teeth bared as she spoke back, voice raising.

"All you need is a couple more condiments."

Her eyes were pinched tight, and the colour of them more flinty and cold. But there also seemed to be a certain feverish desperation in those eyes, hands reaching out only to pull back with a sharp flinch. She was shaking, trembling even as her voice became choked with emotion.

"Baby soft skin turns into leather."

All the things he had said so long ago, whispered words that cut so deeply that it scarred, she believed so deeply that she refused to listen to anything else, even as she crumbled before you, all the pieces she had tried to patchwork together, untangling apart without pause.

"No one will love you if you're unattractive."

You pressed the palms of your hands to your eyes, rubbing slowly and tiredly.

You did not respond when a warm hand gently rubbed your back, soothing and familiar. In a thick voice, you asked, "Is it true that pain is beauty? Will a pretty face make it better?"

"Don't be dramatic,"

Your heart was strangely heavy in your chest, and there was a painful lump in your throat. But your cheeks were burning in shame and you backed away, pressing your hands tighter against your face, refusing to meet his eyes.

Why had you even asked that?

You felt more than heard him move around to your front, sitting on the floor with you, calloused fingers curling against your clenched hands. His voice was soothing, and you sagged against him, feeling his arms wrap around you.

"No one will love you if you're unattractive."

"I think you’re quite perfect, just the way you are." He whispered. Your heart thudded dully in your chest. "You don't need to change a single thing." You pressed closer to him, fingers curling into the pocket of his suit.

"Do you swear you'll stay forever? Even if this face doesn't stay together?"

[mafiabosstsuna]

OMG I LUV YOUR BLOG! So, may i request about some angsty cheating scenario for xanxus,tsuna and dino!? make it's angst as possible please (i'm sucker for an angst)

Xanxus:

The woman was pretty, you supposed.

With flesh the same colour as cinnamon and dark eyes of a pretty almond shape that was accented by the black of her liner. She was taller too, with legs seemingly going on for miles, calf muscles taught as the woman walked gracefully in her heels. She was very pretty, you supposed, with a voice that was gravely, not perfectly like ground coffee, but different to most, sultry even.

She was a woman and in the face of it, you felt like a little girl playing dress up.

Is that why he did this? Never hiding his adultery, his temptations that sent him out no matter the time of day or night.

You wished he would hide it. Perhaps then it would hurt less.

Perhaps then you wouldn’t feel inadequate, of trembling limbs and wide childish eyes.

But Xanxus never tried to hide it, he didn’t believe in hiding, in lying. It was more beneath him, it seemed, then cheating on his wife. His thought process felt very skewed, and you wondered what made him think that one was better than the other (that cheating wasn't even worse). Xanxus was strange though, he never beat around the bush. It just wasn’t him.

If he didn’t like someone, he told them. He couldn’t pretend to be nice. It just wasn’t him.

(It was something, you recalled, loving about him. His honesty. The bluntness of his intentions and thoughts. Never hiding, never mincing words, never lying, nevernevernever –)

You wished it was.

You wished he was kind enough, nice enough, to lie.

Perhaps then it would hurt less, to know he was leaving, always leaving.

You wished he was nice enough to think, for just a moment, that this isn’t something you ever wanted to know. It would have been so much easier, you thought, but you didn't say a word. Instead, you bit your lip, turning your gaze downward to your hands that were clasped tightly in your lap. Hoping, even still, that your heart would stop beating so painfully in your throat.

Tsuna:

You had known for a while now.

It wasn’t hard not to.

He wasn’t ashamed.

You wished he was. You wished he couldn’t look you in the eyes because of his own guilt. You wished his smile was twisted around the corners from shame, his tongue heavy from the lies he would tell. But he wasn’t, instead, he looked straight into your eyes as if he had done nothing that warranted his apologies. His smile that same curled bottle of warmth that you had fallen for from the very beginning.

He didn’t care, not a single wit.

With loose shoulders and a slow, steady gait, he walked away every single day.

Was it your fault then?

Had you done something wrong?

Had you not been attentive enough? Loving enough? Or had you loved too much? Cared too much? Your heart too big for your body that it was drowning him as well?

Your fingers restlessly drummed against your thigh, trying to understand, to figure out why this had occurred. And yet, all you could think about was him, about Tsuna, and every moment that he had promised that he would never hurt you, and every whisper drawn onto your skin that he would cherish you.

You muttered softly to yourself, hands clenching into fists on your lap while thoughts bounced irrationally in your head, and for a moment, a brief moment you prayed that it could be changed, that you could fix this, whatever it was.

Your jaw clenched, and you swallowed the sob that had built up in your chest, wrecking pain through you.

"My fault then?" You asked to the empty air, "My fault for him doing this, then?"

No one answered. You didn’t expect it to. But it felt just as cold as if someone had.

Dino:

Your eyes were wet with unshed tears, disbelief echoing in those eyes that questioned him, hoping desperately that what you had heard, what you had seen wasn’t real. But Dino didn't dare lie, didn't dare to keep the carefully made illusion he had created for you. It was pointless to do so.

Your head bowed, body practically collapsing in on itself.

Your body was shaking uncontrollably. You were crying. Crying so hard that you couldn't really make a sound other than that choked whimper lodging itself into your throat. Then your hands rose to your face, rubbing at your eyes as your shoulders hunched forwards, making yourself so small. The crying turned into laughter, bitter laughter.

"Why does it feel like I'm dying?"

Dino reached out, but as if sensing him, you flinched backwards, hissing angrily and angling your torso away from him, a clear indication that you didn’t want him to touch you.

He pulled back, swallowing.

He had done it consciously, so why did his chest hurt? Why did he feel so... guilty listening to you cry, laughing through those tears that slipped past your hands.

He opened his mouth, saying your name, but you immediately cut him off with a sharp, "Don't."

Your hands slowly pulled away and he saw the anger brewing underneath the hurt.

"Just don't Dino." You shook your head, weaving a bitter smile. "I don't care."

But he knew that was a lie, just as much as you knew that he wasn’t ashamed of his actions, simply ashamed of being caught.

"I just don’t... I don’t fucking care."

Your hand waved carelessly at the air as you turned away, back to him, and shoulders still shaking. The perfect image of someone whose entire world had fallen apart.

[mafiabosstsuna]

after a relationship that'd thus far been heavy on the physical side and near-empty on the genuinely emotional - tsuna, mukuro, gokudera, and enma having a tearful near-breakdown after their s/o just barely makes it out alive after an attack that should've killed them?

Tsuna:

It happened in seconds.

But it felt like a lifetime.

Intuition buzzing anxiously underneath his skin, irritating him as he smiled at the other boss who he could just taste the acid from just the flames alone. The burning, and bitter, flames that washed over his senses like hot tar on his skin. It irritated him, but Tsuna simply smiled, eyes a little pinched at the corners as he watched the man.

Then it roared, and he felt more than heard the bullet, felt more than noticed the startled but raging flames of his Guardians, and then the shock that settled in when he felt no pain. Instead, eyes wide in surprise as the blood of another slashed at the other, coating his suit, and small, fragile hands sliding over his chest. He watched, a little perturbed as you fell to the floor, not even a sound made from your throat.

It was second’s and yet, it felt like a lifetime when Tsuna's heart lodged itself in his throat, settled there and making it so hard to breathe. A lifetime as he realized you were on the floor, bleeding and dying as the storm inflamed bullet ate away at your insides and created havoc to your systems.

But it was only seconds and Tsuna had already dispatched most of the other boss's people who tried to come at him. The boss himself was being contained by Chrome, the sweet-faced Mist whose eye was enraged because that was –

Tsuna was upon you before he even realized he was on his knees, hands gently pulling you into his lap where he whispered softly that you would be just fine. He could see the pain twisted on your face, could see the unfocused haze in your eyes as you tried so hard to breathe through sharp, inhaled puffs from your lips.

"You idiot," Tsuna hissed, "Why would you do that to yourself?"

He didn't expect an answer in all honesty, but it was as if it had brought you back to attention, turning your head to look at him. Pale-faced and trembling, and there was blood coating the inside of your mouth and down the curve of your lips.

You huffed out a small, warbling laugh, "I... I had a duty of care."

"I didn’t ask you to," Tsuna said, voice strangely thick with emotion.

"You shouldn’t have to ask." You said, looking at him as if he were an idiot. And there was something there glittering in your eyes aside from the wet sheen of tears. A realization that was making its way into your head before you turned away, lips pressing together into a slight grimace.

Tsuna smoothed your hair gently, coaxing you to turn back to him.

(Why was there a tightness in his chest? Pain in the back of his throat, sore from whispering into your ear, begging for you to stay awake for him, to not close your eyes, to breathe, and to not –)

Your breath was sawing in and out in pain, and for a moment your glassy eyes seemed to lose their shine. His heart jumped heavily into his throat, lodging painfully there as your name broke out from his lips.

(Why had you done that?

There was nothing between the two of you.

Nothing but a physical attraction that was only skin deep.

So why did the sound of your laughter haunt him, ringing in his ears now? Why did it feel as if you were suddenly leaving him too soon – not ready, not ready, not yet –)

Hands tried to reach out to take you from him, and he snarled, gaze darting towards Ryohei with a feverish glare. He was speaking softly, calmingly to Tsuna, and when Tsuna refused to let you go he instead dragged a flame infused hand to your chest, pressing it stiffly there. A short, strong pulse and you jerked, gasping in surprise.

"Tsuna," Ryohei murmured, "We need to take her now. My flames aren't going to be enough."

(Letting him drag you out of his hands was strangely painful, and his hands twitched, wanting to reach back out, desperate for your warmth.)

Tsuna didn't know why but it was so painful to see you disappear with Ryohei, others quickly swarming in upon the two, while he was left behind with the haggard boss tied right at his feet by Gokudera. His jaw clenched and he looked downwards, hot anger boiling at his chest when he noticed the haggard and pale complexion of the other before him.

"Oh. I'm angry," He realized, startled by this fact. He pondered over this feeling, eyes narrowing before he smiled unpleasantly at the other boss that was beginning to hyperventilate. "That's sort of new. I've never felt like that for her."

Tsuna clicked his tongue and made a gesture to Chrome. She bowed her head and disappeared with the man.

He rubbed his chin, before grimacing when the scent of iron hit his nose. Oh. The blood from your –

Tsuna breathed out steadily, urging the swarming, suddenly irrational thoughts in his head to calm.

(Desperate thoughts that screamed at him, of fearful whispers that Ryohei had almost not made it, that the infused flame bullet had hit too close to something vital, and you would –

Tsuna shook his head.)

"It's not too late." He assured himself, but he wasn’t quite certain for what he meant it for.

Mukuro:

His eyes were the most unique part of him.

It was his eyes, the colour of them that had drawn you in.

Not his name, not his face, but his eyes and the deep colour of them.

A flinty blue, the colour of berries or perhaps navy, so much more different to the other one. It wasn’t a blue colour, not that odd deep blue that drew you in like the turbulent waves of an ocean. The other was instead a red colour. Not perfectly crimson and not perfectly a carmine colour, and sometimes flashing a candy apple red, the freshest kind. Of a red that changed constantly.

The strangest but prettiest eyes you had ever seen.

It was this that brought you to him, never seeking the name he carried against his chest as stained as his story, nor the face that was quite handsome if one stopped to look, to peer past the curled lips filled with devious mischief. You cared nothing for them, but his eyes, such pretty things that stared at you with quiet contemplation.

Even when his hands wandered across your body, leaving trails of warmth against your goosebump flesh. Heart beating fast in your chest when his lips drew over your bare skin, touching and tracing every part of you that felt too intimate (those eyes caging you to the bed with just a single look, leaving you shuddering underneath him).

But now there was a colour not dissimilar to the red and blue of his eyes.

This sticky colour of deep red staining the almost perfect blue of your dress. More mahogany than anything else, and turning darker the longer the blood slipped past your trembling pale fingers.

You couldn’t tell what happened. Only the barest sense of flickering joy bubbling in your belly before sudden pain lodged itself deep, startling you stiff. Your hands pressed to the wound in curious confusion before the reality hit you and you shuffled back a step or two. Your eyes drifted upwards to see his him staring, his posture completely rigid, lips just the lightest bit parted before rage contorted his face.

The blue of his eye seemed to shift into a crippling azure, blazing just as deeply as the red that flashed a chilling scarlet.

It happened so fast. The screaming and then the small cold hands of someone pulling you backwards, away from the carnage you can hear ringing around you. You could barely make out Chrome leading you away, your vision fuzzing at the edges as you tried to hold onto her. Her voice a muffled reassurance at the back of your head.

You weren't certain when you were laid backwards, too warm flames seeping into your body, slithering into every nook and cranny of your being before swarming around the room that continued to bleed. The pain slowly fading away as it was being healed, the heat blistering and uncomfortable all the while.

A familiar cool hand settled against your forehead, not perfectly warm like the hands healing you and not perfectly cold like Chrome's whose hand gently rubbed reassuring circles into your ankle. You looked up to see Mukuro next to you, his expression stilted into a carefully blank canvas. When the uncomfortable warmth faded, hearing the footsteps fade behind a closing door, his face crumbled.

His breath whooshed out sharply from his lips, and you noticed that the colour changed again, more of a cobalt than the cold, raging blue from before, and the red as well had settled between Maroon and a faded vermillion.

You reached out, gently running your fingers just underneath his eye, watching, curiously as you seemed to shudder. His eyes closed as he leaned forwards.

"I didn't expect that," You mumbled, not explaining further. But you were certain he understood just from the way he frowned, eyes opening into slits as he gazed at you.

"...Neither did I." He admitted, and he didn’t have to say anything further. You didn’t expect him to, his eyes were enough to tell everything, and you watched, taking in the way they seemed to soften just the slightest bit around the corners, all the answer you would ever need.

Gokudera:

It was a mistake.

But you had noticed it first before he did, and the anger that bubbled at your chest had stolen away your moment of sanity as your body moved forwards, hand lashing out to steal away the poisoned drink and tittering at him (ignoring his flushed cheeks and the pinching of his eyes as he turned to you) that it was for you and 'thank you for everything, puppy' before pulling back your head and downing it in one swift gulp.

It worked quickly.

That was your mistake.

It felt like acid burning against the inside of your throat, immediately destroying the flesh and drowning you in the blood that came after it. You heaved, unable to stop your hand from dropping the cup that shattered to the floor, from your arm twisting protectively around your stomach while the other pressed a hand against your mouth as if to stop yourself from vomiting the poison, the blood, and the anguished cry from your lips.

It was an odd choice of poison, but the smell of it was distinguishable. It had caught your attention the moment you had noticed it in his hand, sitting innocently there as if it wouldn't take his life.

Why did you grab it?

Why did you take it from his hands when it could have just stayed there, could have been him instead – and just as quickly as the thought came, so did the denial and the regret of such a thought. It pained you for some reason, just thinking of Gokudera in this pain, choking away like you were right now, falling to his knees in the same painful crumble. It pained you so much more than the acid-like poison that was crawling down your throat and straight into your stomach.

But I don’t want him to die.

Ah.

Well...

You wanted to curse, but it came out more as a gurgle. You also wanted to glare at Gokudera and maybe flick him the finger, but your vision was sort of blurry with tears, and your limbs felt a little too heavy to muster up anything than curling around your body. You were a little too hesitant on letting go, the pain of your body heaving without pause becoming very painful. The stray thought of coughing up your stomach was very plausible. Actually, it was enterally plausible as you were certain that bit of meat that had slipped off your tongue had not been food that had yet to be digested.

Gross.

In the back of your head you were certain you could hear panicking, and perhaps even feel warm hands against your back, and another set pulling at your hair so it wouldn’t get caught from the disgusting mess that was now becoming your insides-to-your-outsides.

Your body was trembling, and you were certain you were crying somewhere in-between the gagging sounds and the gurgling pain.

You thought you could hear Gokudera speaking softly to you, as soft and reassuring as he could through his grinding teeth. It sounded sort of stressful, honestly, and a little fearful. You tried to look up, blinking through the tears. But you barely made out his figure, only noticing the edging silver in your vision and the fact his arm was moving soothingly across your back before you were returning to choking on your very life.

You thought you felt his flames seeping into your body digging deep, searching for the poison in your systems. But you supposed that might have been wishful thinking as you dropped into the blackness of oblivion.

Enma:

Your stare was defiant, tired and so very defiant. "And what would be the alternative?" You asked, voice raspy and thick with sleep, and if he listened closely, flinching pain. He grimaced but you ignored his expression, continuing on with, "Me standing over your grave?"

He almost wanted to stand up and shake you, demanding the same thing, of what made you think I'd prefer standing over yours? But he didn’t. Instead, he breathed in slowly, trying to keep his racing heart settled in his chest. But it stilled thumped with dull pain, making him press a hand to his chest as he settled back in his chair.

He hadn't ever thought about it, of you ever dying. But he had been certain he wouldn't have particularly cared. After all, the lines were crossed from the very beginning. There would be nothing to change it.

At least, that was what Enma had assumed.

The relationship between the two of you had been nothing but physical, it should have stayed physical.

Yet somewhere along the way he had allowed himself to open just a little too much, just to have a taste of the heart underneath the body he divulged himself to, to understand this person whom he had only ever known behind the closed door of his room, only seeing so far to the bare flesh and the sounds of your ecstatic, wanting cries. But never more, until he did so without thought, without conscious and never realized until that fear had settled in his chest.

Of you almost dying, did die, and the short-lived anguish he had felt from that last breath almost sending him to his knees before your heart jumped back to life and he felt such strong hope. He had never prayed so hard in his life before. Not until that moment he almost – had – did – lose you.

"Don't do that again." He said. His voice enlaced with every inch of the mafia boss he had become. Of the same voice that had most men warily eye him, shifting uneasily with thoughts that Enma was not a man to cross.

You instead rolled your eyes at him, and Enma almost deflated. He wondered if he should be glad you didn’t cower at the face of the mafia boss or feel a little insulted that you weren't even just the tiniest bit worried for your life considering the fact Enma had made it clear from the very start there would be no emotional attachments between either of you.

He failed that spectacularly of course, but the point still stood.

(Even if Enma vowed that he would protect you better, and vaguely began planning ideas to turn this 'relationship' into a more ideal sort of relationship that was filled with a little more affection than just physical wanting.)

He rubbed his temples slowly, muttering to himself.

"Oh, come off it, Enma," You scoffed, sending him a short, unimpressed glare. "Go put your frustrations into some other girls –"

"Don't."

[mafiabosstsuna]

HC w/ Dino, Squalo, Ryohei & Forgetful S/O

Dino

With Dino’s clumsiness and your forgetfulness you make quite a pair. If you’re not running around after each other, he with a reminder note; you with a first aid kit, it’s the other members of his staff who are.

Because of your forgetfulness, he had several trackers installed in articles of your clothing. More often than not you can become distracted from what you were originally doing, and accidentally become lost in crowds.

Being the Boss Dino never gets a day off; but on the quiet days he likes to just relax doing little quiet things with you. He likes taking the time to watch you do your hobbies, or taking you out for a quiet lunch.

Sometimes your forgetfulness can get to him; if he’d organised to spend some time with you, and you forget, he’s going to be annoyed about it for a while. Whenever he finds you, it doesn’t matter what you’re doing; he will drag you away. He’s quite annoyed that you forget things to do with him; other stuff he doesn’t care so much but, not things regarding him.

When you do forget things to do with him, you’re often quite sore after as he tries to remind you what, or who, your highest priority should be. Whether it’s pinning you to a wall or tossing you on your bed; you definitely don’t forget for a while after. Or you might, who knows? Memory is a funny thing.

Squalo

Squalo is the kind to leave sticky notes everywhere. He has so many thoughts going through his mind to do with work, that if he thinks of something he has to remind you about; he makes a note so he can forget it and get back to work.

Xanxus knows how forgetful you are, so, graciously, he pays attention to what Squalos notes say. He doesn’t want Squalo being distracted by you and possibly making a strategical error. He quietly reminds you of the last note he saw if he sees you wandering around.

Squalo is also always on top of you, metaphorically speaking; to make sure you remember the work you have to do. Whether it’s homework if you study, or making sure your documents are up to standard with work.

On your days off, he likes to sleep in with you; relaxing with the thought that nothing needs to rushed. It’s honestly his favourite thing because it means he can just relax and let his mind empty and calm.

In regards to the bedroom, he’s glad you can be a little forgetful. Means he gets to make sure you enjoy yourself the same amount each time. If he misses a date he can also blame your memory; saying that you’d gotten the date mixed up with another day.

Ryohei

Ryohei can be forgetful himself occasionally, so makes it his job to try and teach you how to either remember things better; or make the things you forget become a habit. You now never forget to water the plants around your house.

You spend a lot of your time around Kyoko. The girl enjoys the time together, but she knows it’s also her responsibility to make sure you’re on track. She is essentially your assistant, as per Tsuna’s orders, not that she minds.

Sometimes you forget to take care of your health. Whether it’s forgetting to eat or getting caught in the rain and forgetting to shower when you get back in. This is honestly simultaneously the thing that can annoy Ryohei the most, or it can be the most endearing; depending on why you forget.

In order to make sure you’re always eating at least; he tries to take or have lunch with you everyday. If he senses you’re stressed he asks Tsuna if you can have some time off? Either with Kyoko or himself. Because you can forget your breaks, or tasks to the last minute you tend to stress out quickly, even with Kyoko’s assistance.

When you’re sick or stressed, the boy is boss. He will keep you in bed by any means necessary. Due to his sun flames he never gets ill so there are quite a few methods he can use to confine you. Whether that’s making your legs so jelly you can’t walk, or massaging you until you’re almost paralytic you’re so relaxed.

~

Admin Aria

[mafiabosstsuna]

Childhood friend turned friend with benefits w/ Mukuro NSFW

When he’d helped you escape, you’d been rather grateful naturally; the boy saying you could pay him back when he thought of something.

Years later as he looked up at you, his hands supporting you as he watched you roll your hips. Your wet cunt impaled on his cock, he was glad he’d asked for your virginity all those years ago.

There were times he remembered when you’d spoken about others at kokuyu expressing an interest; organising to meet up with you so you could go on a date. How you were heartbroken when they always “stood” you up.

He’d decided then he’d make you his own. You were always his, whether you were aware of it or not.

Watching you shudder when an illusion of himself pushed you down, he enjoyed the feeling of your breasts pressed against his chest. Your laboured breathing hitching as his illusion entered you.

He liked having you like this. Body shaking as both versions of himself began to thrust into you.

He also liked spending days with you. When you both went out for lunch; he was certain he could know what you were going to order before you did. Still he was patient. He let you make your own decision.

That illusion of choice was one he served to you on a platter. He liked the fact you had to rely on him for your needs. The knowledge that if you’d had the chance to be with others; they would have greatly disappointed.

Your whines brought him from his reverie.

“More, please” Gazing down at you, he took in the sight. Your hair a mess, sticking to your forehead from the heat in the room; your eyes dilated from the pleasure he was indulging you in.

“More what?” He knew what you were after, but he was ready to make his move.

“More, just more. More hard, more fast.” The way your words abandoned you sent a flood of excitement to his cock.

“One condition?” Your desperate nod an answer “Swear that you’ll be mine forever. That no one else will be able to indulge in the way you move. The way you drip at the feeling of me probing you with my fingers, the way I twist them inside you. The taste of you melting on my tongue. Promise I’ll be the only one from now on.”

You shook as you nodded, you would take anything he would give you. The feeling of you twitching and clamping on him as he spoke, reassurance that no other would be able to sate you.

Smirking, he rolled you to your back, hoisting your thighs upon his shoulders as he set a punishing pace. Breaths coming out in lewd squeaks that made him wish for more time, and as fate would have it, you would be his forever.

Feeling you start to tighten around him, he felt himself start to cum as your eyes rolled back; your cries spurring him on.

As you laid thereafter, you snuggled into his embrace; feeling content and safe.

For once in his life, Mukuro felt the same.

~

Admin Aria

[mafiabosstsuna]

Scenario Childhood friend 2 friends with benefits (Hidden love) w/Ryohei, Dino

Dino

When you were younger you’d been surprised by the proposition. You’d known Dino for a long time; having been children when you’d first met at a party.. You’d become inseparable. So when he pulled you to his room one day and asked if you’d want to have sex with him; so he could know what to do, you were a little hurt. You’d always loved the boy, so while it broke your heart to do this, knowing he’d never see you as anything more; you wanted to spend as much time with him as you could.

You were thirty now. While you had looked for others, you couldn’t move on from that boy who took your heart. True to his original plan, he had used your  “practice” in order; be close to many others.

You didn’t know why you let it stay this way. He’d had many girlfriends by now, he knew what he was doing, that’s for sure. Your face blushing violently at the thought of all of his talents. As you rode the elevator up, you tried to calm your racing thoughts; the thought of what he could do to you already making you wet.

He laid on his bed. The thought of you laid beneath him already making him hard. Reminiscing he felt slightly guilty about what he’d done. He’d intentionally kept other men away from you. It’s not like he could help it though.

As years went on, the sight of you beneath him, dripping. Soft moans that he would try to make louder, they got to him. You were his and no one else’s he’d decided. Hearing you enter the room, he opened his eyes to the sight of you bent over as you took your shoes off.

God you looked good like that. Standing quickly he made his way over to you, pushing you against the wall; your arms coming up to support yourself as he kept you bent. Leaning over he nipped at your ear, hand rubbing through the material hiding your crotch from him; desperate wish of you grinding back granted immediately as a embarrassed squeak escaped your mouth.

“How was your day?” He wanted you all to himself. Including knowing about your day to day life.

“It was a-” His hand slid up the front of your skirt, it being pushed to your waist as he pressed roughly against your clit. “Ok”

“Just ok? Well let’s see if I can my my best friends day better shall we?” Your hearts both stung at his words, before he pulled your underwear down, getting to his knees behind you.

His nose nuzzled your lips gently before he snaked his tongue within, you shuddering and rocking back immediately. He loved when you were like this. He was always talented with his mouth you’d said; so he knew exactly how to get you the most desperate for him. As he sucked at your lips, tongue darting within as his thumb rolled at your clit; he couldn’t help but think about how he’d like to drink your sweet juices all the time.

Ryohei

It was after school one day. You had stayed behind to help the boxing star tidy up the gym after his practice, after all; you were both going to your house that night in order to study for the next big exam.

You both failed that exam.

He’d leant over and kissed you. You’d both lasted till 18 without having been in a relationship; not that either of you told the other, but it was because you couldn’t stand being without the other person in the room.

“Ryohei? We ha-”

“Are you a virgin?” your face flushed red at his direct question, a mumbled yes becoming his reply. “So am I. Did you wanna, maybe, see what the big deal is?” Your gaze shot up, unable to believe what you were hearing. Yeah you’ve been in love with the captain; but you didn’t expect this. Nodding hesitantly, you let the boy push you onto your back; the cushions littering the floor.

As he pushed you down, the boxer leant forward, lips sitting softly on yours. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do, so he just had to rely on what he’d overheard the others say. He just wanted to touch you..

Tentatively he grasped your breast, thumb rubbing softly across; he felt a wave of heat rush through him at your response. Your quiet moan and the feeling of your nipple perking up. He needed to see. Unbuttoning your shirt, he pushed it to the side, the material of your bra almost tearing from the eagerness with which he pulled the cup down. His mouth latched onto your nipple, an unconscious desire to taste you, and by the way you rolled your body into him; he could tell you wanted it too.

He needed to hear more noises. He wanted to hear you screaming for him. Pushing your pants down your body, he started when he felt your panties were wet. This was a good thing. Trailing his way down your body with his mouth, he wanted to know how it tasted.

The others had a mixed response he’d heard. Curiosity still led him down, you panties leaving wet marks on the inside of your thighs as he removed them. Before he could get a better look, he saw your hand blocking the way.

Gaze looking towards you, he saw the uncertainty in your eyes; “We can stop if-” He didn’t want to pressure you. “I won’t hurt you and from what I’ve heard this feels extremely good.”

Kissing the inside of your thigh he prayed you would let him.

Years later he was glad you’d relented.

Your thighs currently on either side of his head, he laved his tongue at his entrance, the feel of you riding his face spurring himself on. The sight of you in pleasure, and the taste of you, was incomparable.

The way your breath hitched and you almost cried; he swore then and there no one else would have you. No matter the cost, you made him feel alive; and nothing would ever beat this sight of you.

~

Admin Aria

[mafiabosstsuna]

NSFW HC or Scenario w/Squalo, Yamamoto, Xanxus & Burlesque dancer crush

Squalo

On the rare occasion Squalo frequents them, he would always pick one from the catalogue. The girls faces and expertise lined out in full colour; he usually just picked whoever suited his “flavour of the month”.

When he’d picked you, he hadn’t been expecting anything special. Waiting in the back room, he wasn’t expecting much when you walked in. Yeah you were hot, but all the girls were. It was when you danced that you stole his attention. It was like the act of dancing was effortless for you; like flowing water.

It was the fact you moved in such a way that really caught his attention. You didn’t even break a sweat. He wanted to change that. After his first evening with you, you became the only one he requested. He wanted and he would have you. AS time went on, you began to spend more time with you; time you made sure he paid for.

But he needed more. One night he propositioned you. The question of how much you would cost for him to have you for the rest of the night. The question laden with hidden promises. It was your confident response that he could have you for free, that made him lose his mind. Your breathless whisper that he should consider it a loyalty bonus, making him push you down on the couch.

His hands stripping you of your lingerie; becoming more revealing he noticed, the more times he visited. The moisture pooling betwixt your thighs; he’d been making you wet he discovered, not in the way he’d expected, but a way he certainly took joy in. The way your body still moved so fluidly beneath him, every roll and rotation of your hips making him gasp for air. You were like the ocean, and as he often leant down between your legs, mouth kissing your throbbing clit; he swore he’d be happy to drown in you.

Yamamoto

It had been an accident really. He’d tagged along purely to keep an eye on one of the others, as it was part of their bucks party. You’d been working as a serving girl before it was your turn to go on stage.You’d originally approached him with a glass of water, commenting that you could tell he was supposed to be the sober one; and that you didn’t want him to get dehydrated. After all the club is rather stuffy and hot.

He couldn’t help the way his eyes had followed you around after that, and the sight of you on stage just ensured you had his attention. The way you somehow managed to make everyone feel as if you were dancing specifically for them made him feel quite jealous.

He’d started attending on his own after that. The need to see you almost controlling him, even though he knew he had to share you with everyone else. Cornering you outside your work one night, he ignored the fear that was emanating from you. His reasoning, that he gave you, was that he wanted to make sure you got home safe. He wanted to wait for your taxi with you. Slowly he enjoyed watching a friendship blossom, you becoming accustomed to his company.

He’d start taking you on dates in the daytime. While he may have thought the sight of you in your lingerie, dancing on stage was attractive; nothing compared to the sight of you in the day. The natural glow of your skin, the way your sundress would almost float around you. It made him dream of what you’d look like, with that dress bunched around your waist. Face enraptured as his tongue buried itself between your folds.

It was when you were being accosted by another patron, as you waited for your taxi that his patience finally wore thin. He’d stepped up next to you, the three of you buried in the shadows; he set out to prove what was his. His arm wrapping around your waist as his face rested on your shoulder. Staring straight into the eyes of the other man. His free hand unbuttoning the lower buttons of your coat, dipping into your skirt; before sliding into you. The shudder that ran through your body when you bucked back into him, made him want to take you then and there. Pulling his fingers to his mouth, he sucked them, eyes full of the threat that is the other didn’t leave you alone, that he wouldn’t see anyone again.

Xanxus

He’d had to visit an enemy mafia’s club. Destroying the resources of the venue was one thing, but the sight of you covered in blood; glock in one hand, the other supporting your wrist, turned him on more than he would have expected. You were a good shot he’d realised, as Lussuria cleaned his shoulder later. The momentary distraction the shock caused allowing you to get away.  

You still had to work though. So it wasn’t long before you stumbled into one of his venues. When he found out you were applying, he made them pull you aside for a “Personal interview”, saying their boss wanted to check the potential personally. It was a different sight when he walked in. The anger that had been there replaced by a tranquility as you obviously tried to make your best impression. As soon as you saw him though, he saw your face fall.

Striding forward he’d grabbed you by the hair before pinning you to the wall, your body trapped between his hand and his body as he kept your head pulled back. He liked you like this too. That fire still in your eyes, even when you were in a standard professional uniform. A tight black skirt and a white button up.

He’d whispered that he needed to test to see if you were going to be a good fit, so that you’d be doing private shows for him until he deemed you good enough to dance for his regular clients. Unbeknownst to you, if you danced well, you were never going to dance for his patrons. It was the harsh words of what you could do better that eventually won you over. You felt he was trying to help you, even if he didn’t think you were up to standard.

It wasn’t long after that you realised his game plan. You’d tried to seduce him into letting you dance for the main stage, unaware that you’d already lost. The smirk burned into your mind, the statement simple; you realised the trap you’d fallen into. “I’ll let you work for me, if you’ll prove what you’re capable of.” His hips bruising yours with each powerful thrust; the rock and grind against your clit driving you mad as realisation sunk in. You were “working” for him. Your hips rolling in desperation for more friction, as his teeth sank a bruise into your throat.

~

Admin Aria

[mafiabosstsuna]

Scenario Soulmate AU w/Xanxus, Takeshi & Soft, Sweet Innocent S/O

Takeshi

Watching your chest rise with each delicate breath, Takeshi resisted the urge to touch you.

You looked so soft like this.

Hair slightly messy from sleep, sheet clinging to your naked body; the bare skin of your shoulder inviting to him.

The compass. Sitting softly on the edge of your bed so as not to disturb you, he watched he mark on your wrist point to him. When he came home late from missions, it was the only thing he wanted to see. The reassurance that he wasn’t alone. That he would always have a North Star to call him home.

Shucking off his jacket, he unbuttoned his shirt; the rest of his clothes joining them in the wash basket. You’d be quite annoyed if he left them on the floor. Sliding into the bed, he smirked as you smiled and hummed; still asleep even as you shifted to move into his chest.

Holding you tightly, he closed his eyes and breathed in your shampoo; he almost didn’t have you.

During the ring battles, he’d seen some of the Varia hanging around the school during the day. That in and of itself wasn’t threatening. It was the way they watched you. Like they knew.

During your school years you’d kept your compass covered by a compression bandage. You didn’t want to let love, or your soulmate interfere with your education you’d said. He’d asked you one day when you were both walking home from school, your house not being too far from his. He’d noticed that his always seemed to point towards you, his curiosity leading him to seek you your when you were younger. But when 3 year old him first saw you; he couldn’t find the courage to tell you.

Watching you run around your yard, dirt flying when you tripped at having seen him. Tears starting to bead in your eyes, blood starting to bubble on your scraped knees. He pushed the gate open before nearly flying towards you, he needed to make you feel better. That’s all he knew. Wiping your little tears he shushed you as your parents came out of the house, his father standing at the gate where he’d left him.

Tsuyoshi didn’t want to let him run around unattended, but didn’t have the heart to turn down his sons request; and as he watched him kiss your knee better, he couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face. The brightness of which matched by the smiles on your own parents.

When you’d revealed to him you wanted to be successful before finding your soulmate; he couldn’t help the pride that bloomed in his chest. With the Varia running around Namimori; he ensured he would always walk you home. It was hard. Balancing study and watching over you, with training; it nearly killed him.

As much as he was strained by it; he had to keep living for you. When he’d been on that rooftop, Tsuna’s words, and the thought of you being alone forever, broke his resolve. He needed to be strong for you.

So he’d waited. Watching over you.

He made sure he was there for your graduation. When the others had gone off to get food, he trailed behind with you; reminding you softly that you could remove the bandage.

It was the soft blush and response from you that made him lose his control.

“But I don’t need to. I already know who I love and I don’t care who my soulmate is. I want to be with that little boy who kissed my knee.”

You didn’t have the time to breathe before his hands had grasped your face; pulling you forward to kiss you, and to be honest he didn’t want to let you go. So he didn’t. He dragged you away from your graduation, straight back to the apartment you now rented. Having frisked you for your keys whilst you were kissing, he unlocked the door; pushing you in he locked it behind him, before he ripped the bandage from your wrist.

The squeal of shock and anger was cut short, when you realised it was pointing towards him. The way your eyes lit up making both his heart and something else swell; and as he lay there with his arms around your waist, the memory almost made something else swell again.

You were sleeping, and he was tired. There would always be more time for that in the future.

You didn’t know what he did. You didn’t ask. For all your smarts, he was glad you were as sweet and trusting as you were. You always trusted that he was doing the right thing. When he came home with blood on his suit, though he tried to avoid it; he was reassured that you just thought he’d gotten it on him when helping someone. Or if he ever got injured, that it was just from having to defend someone.

He was glad you trusted him. He was always going to make sure that you thought of him that way.

No matter who he had to take out.

Xanxus

It was an accidental meeting to say the least.

He’d been drinking at one of the strip clubs he owned, most knowing to keep away from him; even if they didn’t know he was the boss. Fortunately or unfortunately for you, you’d never been rostered on at the same time he was drinking. The first time you were though, you certainly made an impression.

Sitting at the booth at the far end of the bar, he had a perfect line of sight of the whole venue; especially the bar itself. He’d been staring at the nearly empty bottle of tequila, when a full one was placed before him; and some words were rushed out. A hand quickly finding it’s way to his hair and tipping his head back.

“Sorry about this.” Was whispered against his lips before yours made contact; a searing warmth spreading through his veins before you pulled back, eyes glimmering before you turned back and headed back to the bar. Turning on your heel when you arrived safely at the icewell, you called to him. “That one’s on the house my love, I’ll see you at home later yeah? I’ll probably be a few more.”

Still in slight shock, his eyes focused on you as you continued to work; the man who had been obviously staring at you quite intently, now having paled and backed away from the bar.

It was when you were closing up and the others were wishing you luck with the “big guy” that you had a feeling something was wrong, yeah you’d bought him a bottle of booze, but he’d been behaved all night? Surely he’d leave without a fuss.

“Alright buddy, sorry for before; but you have to leave now. Feel free to take the bottle, but I gotta close up shop.” Smirking as he rose, he stepped forward; pausing as he leant down to your ear.

“I don’t have to go anywhere,” He chuckled darkly “I’m the boss.” He watched as your confidence began to drain, before you seemed to give yourself an instant internal peptalk.

“Oh. Sorry Boss. And Uh, sorry for before.” Trying to take a step back, his fingers wrapped around your upper arm; effectively stopping your escape. Pulling up your sleeve with his free hand, he smirked at his words that were burned there. Hearing your breath stutter before him; he decided for once he would let his fate be decided for him.

Turns out you had no idea about the mafia as he soon discovered. You’d merely taken the job as a way to pay bills while you studied. He couldn’t be bothered to remember what you wanted to work as; but it was something, delicate. Something soft.

He was pleased with that at least. It would mean this delicate little soft thing he’d found; could be kept soft. That it wouldn’t harden. For the life of him he would keep you soft.

He needed this soft thing in his otherwise hard world. The innocence you displayed when you were oblivious as to the going ons around you. How you like baby animals and other things.

The lewd noises you would try to hush in embarrassment, that smirk permanently on his lips as he repeated his ministrations. He loved it. Every little mark of innocence you carried. He loved how he could keep his hands on something so pure.

As you lay spent beside him now, bottle of tequila on the bedside; he was glad he’d gone in on a whim that night. He had a new favourite tequila now.

As well as a new possession by his side, after all; he would never let that purity go.

~

Admin Aria

[mafiabosstsuna]

Can I get xanxus and hibari with their shy/sweet fem so that likes that they're protective and dominating (both in bed and out) because it makes her feel well taken care of, loved, and safe

Xanxus:

You felt more than what he would ever say when his hands glided down your skin, and when his lips pressed hot kisses against the trail of bites he would leave throughout the night. You felt more than what you could ever say, gasping, and trembling at the merest touch, feeling your heart race, and wondering why it felt as if you were melting away.

He made you feel more than what you have ever felt before, more than what you could understand.

It was an odd feeling, but a secure feeling, one that did not frighten you even the tiniest bit.

“He’s so scary though. He looks as if even just the tiniest thing could make him snap.” But they were wrong, they always were. There was nothing to fear from Xanxus, nothing that could make you ever look away like they do, with pale faces and darting eyes. Perhaps you were odd yourself, finding gun calloused hands to be soothing, the blistering heat of his flames like a blanket, so comforting that you just didn’t want to let go.

He was not someone to be afraid of, at least for the reasons they feared for you.

Yes, you could not deny that there was blood on his hands, more than any other. Death so skin deep that some nights you could swear to hear the whispers of forgotten words, of last curses and sobs of the ones who had died. He held more death than he should, and yet it was these same hands that would hold you against him, that would press your head to his chest and hear the so very human heart beating away.

Yes, you could not deny that he was… violent, constantly hurling insults and beer bottles as if it was a game to be won, but it was that same biting tongue that whispered hotly in your ear; promises and certainties that he wanted to brand skin deep, giving so much more than they could ever fathom. It made your heart race, made you yearn for ways that felt almost damning.

“I think it would be best if you left him, don’t you?” But their worry was so misplaced, because everything they feared of him, was everything you adored.

You titled your head, eyes wide with wonder. “Why would I do that?”

“Because he’s one step away from hurting you!” Giovanni hissed it as if that explained everything. “Why would you ever want to stay with someone like that?!”

Your brows furrowed, and you felt just the tiniest bit insulted on Xanxus behalf. In fact, you made a dismissing sound and turned to leave, wondering if you would have enough time to try and coax Xanxus into a nice cuddle session before he had to meet the Decimo, only to be stopped by Giovanni’s large hand pulling you backwards.

They were speaking rapidly in Italian, face set into a deep, pinched scowl. For a moment you felt fear, deep overwhelming fear that had you curling inwards away from the angry man that was yelling at you. His hands shook so badly that you could feel his fingers biting your flesh, then his flames shimmered and you tried to escape his hold.

“L-let me go now, please. I – I don’t even really know you,” Which was true. You were simply being kind in wanting to help lead him towards the Rain division. “And I would greatly appreciate not being shaken like, like a rag doll.”

You felt more than saw him coming, and Giovanni did not notice when you seemed to relax, muscles loosening and eyes flashing with relief. Instead, he insistently turned you away from the direction you had been leading him, bodily pulling you and speaking still too rapidly for you to grasp. But you did catch bits and pieces, odd words that made your nose wrinkle.

Then he was there, eyes burning darkly and flames –

You watched curiously as Giovanni was sent sailing out the window, glass shattering in his wake. You turned to Xanxus who looked agitated and particularly miffed before you were suddenly being guided down the hall, not bodily like Giovanni, but gently, warm hand pressed against your shoulder blades in a way that felt very assuring. You leaned against him, smiling.

Ah. This is what you liked about him. The care he drew in just a single action, made you feel –

“Happy.” You said. Yes, that’s what it was. Xanxus made you feel safe, and cared for, and so, so, very happy.

Hibari:

His fingers were gliding against the nape of your neck, cool fingers somehow heating the flesh that was being exposed, leaving goosebumps in his wake. You could feel his flames seeping through from the simple touch, a familiar, and secured reminder that you were safe here, even as the cold biting of the winter wind flicked at your cheeks.

You leaned in against his body, lips curling into a smile when his hand trailed down your shoulder before settling against your waist.

No one else seemed to understand why you felt content allowing Kyoya to press his flames into you, allowing his flames to saturate against your own so deeply that it was all anyone could feel. You could tell, just from their stilted expressions that they were not comfortable with the Cloud flames so heavily saturated into a single person outside of the actual user.

But it… felt like him. It felt like Kyoya, it felt like safety, safety so skin deep that nothing else but peace remained in your body, leaving you loose-limbed and drowsy. You loved that feeling, that feeling of knowing you were safe, knowing you were cared for, knowing he was right there beside you even when he wasn’t physically there (that was how deep his flames went).

“Happy?” He murmured, giving you sideways glance.

You hummed back in response, a long and winding hum as you tipped your head back to give him a half-lidded look of satisfaction.

“Very,”

He seemed particularly amused at the almost lazy response, even more so when you stretched out your limbs before falling against him. Almost cat-like, and he gently ran his fingers just to see more of it, to watch as you seemed to purr when he ran Cloud flamed fingers against your spine.

“Very happy.”

There was a brief moment of silence.

Then he spoke up again, a sly tone of his voice, “So, that means we can start on the next round.”

Before you could respond, you felt it, the way his flames seemed to lick at your skin, teasingly. The flames curling into the spots that made you gasp and twist, cheeks flushing pink.

“Kyoya!”

“That’s a yes then.”

[mafiabosstsuna]

After ((character you choose))'s s/o gets tortured for being a traitor, proven innocent, and then the s/o dissappears and cuts all ties to Vongola- They meet again on a mission. And the s/o looks devoid of emotions. ((Choose whoever you want for this ask,I love this page btw))

((I... might have adjusted the ask... a little. – Admin Nana))

The words were caught in your throat as you screamed, screamed so much that it burned, eating away at your lungs until you were certain you could taste blood in your mouth. And you were afraid. There were lots of reasons to be afraid though, more afraid than you ever had been in your entire life because –

You had never seen hate like that before.

Not that deep burning rage of pain that could consume, that fed into the anger that burned in his eyes so dark you were certain you were staring into hellfire (anger so deep that it felt as if you had done something so inconceivable, so damning, that there was just no way to go back). And it frightened you because that anger was more than you could bear.

But more than that it was the pain of knowing he did not believe in you, that whatever the two of you might have had just wasn’t enough. Oh, he could care as much as he liked, but trust, you were beginning to realize was a five-letter word that just didn’t seem plausible to him, regarding him, in any sort of way.

You gasped desperately for air, head-turning sluggishly to the side as relief filled you for just a moment when the man pulled away. You blinked slowly, seeing polished Italian shoes in your vision, and slowly your eyes trailed upwards to the man you loved dearly.

Your heart beat fast, practically jumping in your throat.

But his expression was guarded, not a single thing being revealed.

For once in your life, you were afraid of him.

You swallowed, "...ple...se..." His eyes flickered to the man that had, for a long while now, been torturing you.

You held your breath when he opened his mouth –

"Continue until she speaks."

I trusted you.

Perhaps I should go home...back to everyone...

"Confess, that's all you need to do." He said softly, in that same tone that used to make you feel so secure. The same tone that he once used when he held you at night, whispering softly in your ear until you drifted off to sleep.

But...

"This isn't me... this was never me." The words were said not above a whisper, a hitched set of words that tremored only the slightest when you spoke.

I can't.

He wouldn't listen. Instead, his eyes pinched, and he turned his gaze to the other person in the tiny, caged, and cold room.

"What are you waiting for?" His voice was not kind. "I'm giving you the command: continue."

You closed your eyes and took in a deep breath, willing the heat at the back of your eyes to stop.

I confess... I am afraid.

There must be more than that.

It's so hard to breathe.

It's the fingers wrapped around your throat like a vice, squeezing the life out of you, the person pinning you down without troubles even as your limbs thrash, clawing at the hands holding you down. You tried to plead with the man, but instead, it only comes out as a sad gurgle, and for just a single moment you began to wonder if this is how you would die.

The hands are suddenly gone, and instinctively you turned to your side, gasping desperately for air that almost feels as if it would be the last.

You can hear him, muttering what sounds like regrets underneath his breath, and you can see him from the corner of your eye, trembling with a shame that is palpable on his face, before you hear the heavy footfalls of him running, disappearing out the front door.

It's broken.

Everything is broken but your heart still beats, a heavy drum that feels like a promise to always love, no matter what, even through all the pain, because – this is the best that you can receive.

There must be more than that, please...

Even when your flesh stings with phantom pains of fingers wrapping around your throat like a vice (not at all the tender glide of calloused hands that left shivers against your flesh), even when your scalp stings with the reminder of hands violently fisting through what had been long tresses of hair before it was hazardously sheered through with a kitchen knife.

This, you think, is the best you can have and you think, for just a moment, that it is the most bittersweet sort of feeling in the world, because you knew very well what it was all meant to be – such a tender and beautiful feeling, so much more than what this relationship can ever offer. But this is the best, and you accepted that.

You breathed shallowly, pressing a hand to your mouth, wondering why it was that you were crying, wondering when he would come back.

(He always came back. Body wired tensely and hands fidgeting, guilty ridden eyes unable to bear looking at the bruises he would leave behind. Only to fold like wet paper when you held him gently, murmuring assurances into his skin.)

A warm hand brushed against your back, foreign and familiar (much too frighteningly familiar) that you wrenched away with a startled cry, scrambling and uncaring as the broken glass bit into your flesh as you moved far away from the flaring flames that had barely seeped into your flesh.

You curled into yourself, breath bursting in and out rapidly as you stared at –

"Reborn?" Your voice lowered to a whisper, staring, but not able to fully comprehend that he was really there. Not since –

"You hate me, you want to kill me. Well, go on, kill me." You said it softly as if speaking gently to a child. Your face suddenly contorted into a rage. "KILL ME!"

His smile was wry, "Hello again..."

[mafiabosstsuna]

Scenario with reborn seducing tsuna's wife who has a hard time refusing his advances because of the stress of her marriage?

"Is he good to you?" Reborn asked softly.

You hesitated, the flicker of joy that had been briefly present now flitting away as you played with the pages of a book, never once looking up at him. But you were certain he could see it, your cheeks burning even as you tried to hide your face away.

A warm hand grasped yours, gun calloused skin that felt different compared to Tsuna's own, gently weaving fingers against your own.

You were certain he could see it.

Reborn could see all the reasons why you didn't want to, and see all the reasons why you should. He sees it all there in your eyes, the anguish and the uncertainty being feed by a man who should have treated you better, who should be treating you better. But he wasn’t. Instead, he made you feel defeated, he made you feel as if you were being eaten alive by so much, too much doubt and unsaid words between Tsuna and yourself.

Perhaps that why he leaned against you, warm breath tickling at your ear, and warm hands trailing down your sides. You quickly broke eye contact, unable to look into those dark eyes that glimmered down on you, burning in a way that made your cheeks flush visibly.

"Don't run," He whispered, lips trailing down your cheek, biting at the flesh of your jaw before he settled at your neck. You could feel the heat of his breath and shivered when he pressed a lingering, searing kiss there. "Stay with me."

"I –" Yes. "Won't." But you didn't push him away, instead, your hands curled against his chest, hesitating.

"Even after what he's done?"

Your hand hesitated in touching the door, before limply settling to your side. Head turned downwards, listening to the damning sounds that made your heart ache. There was a tightening in your chest, and you wanted nothing more than to step back, to retreat and not look back. But you just couldn't move. Your body simply refused to, as if in a state of shock.

A warm body pressed against your back and you breathed in sharply, surprised when a familiar calloused hand pressed against your abdomen. Reborn glanced briefly at the closed door, something passing in his eyes when a particularly loud cry echoed out from the room.

Your lips pressed together into a slight grimace. "I – that doesn’t –" You gave a soft shake of the head.

Reborn suddenly swooped down, catching your lips greedily. It was warm and there was a certain feeling to it that was different to Tsuna's own. Something warm and heady, something that made it hard to not want to press against him, to take what he wanted to give and swallow it whole.

"Let it go," Reborn insisted in-between kisses, each one lingering and left a tingling behind. "Time enough, isn't it?"

You whimpered softly, trembling when he pressed closer, and you could feel him against you, erasing what little distance was left between you both. An unrelenting and wicked temptation that made it so hard to not give in, to not glide your hands up to his shoulders and wrap your legs around his waist.

It was beginning to become harder to remember why you shouldn't. It was becoming so much harder to remember why you shouldn't look back, why it would only bring shame. But you were tired, tired of fighting every day to hold onto something that just didn't exist anymore.

Had it ever existed in the first place?

You could feel the slow smiling building on his lips when your legs parted even just the slightest. Could even feel his hands glide, strong hands that felt sincere, and scorching, and absolutely shameless in their wandering touch.

"Can't!" You gasped, but it felt more as if you were trying to convince yourself more than him. Even more so when he lifted your legs, settling easily there, no hesitation found, nor a single move to try and fight it. Your breath came quicker and you were certain he could hear the erratic beating of your own heart.

“Let it go.” He pressed meaningful against you. “Stay with me."

You bit your lip, but it was not enough to hide the whimper that desperately settled in your throat. Reborn grinned widely, and you wondered, for a moment, if the breathlessness in his voice was real.

[mafiabosstsuna]

[Whoever you think fits this ask] cheats on their s/o and their s/o only looks at them dissappointed. Not even angry, just dissappointed because they had promised before the relationship that they would part if they ever hurt her.

It would have been easier if you were angry.

That was something you knew how to handle.

Anger was something you knew how to brush off, to forget. But disappointment somehow stung a lot more than anything else, bitter on your tongue in a way that anger wasn't, and it lingered much longer than the scorching heat of rage ever could. It was different and it hurt a lot more than anger has ever done.

You wished you were angry.

You wished you had the strength to scream, to let your face redden and your lips curl as you flung every curse under the sun. You wished you had the strength to bare your teeth and pull your chin high, to show him that you were not above punching him straight in the face out of rage.

But the heat wasn’t there.

There was not a single feeling of anger anywhere in your heart pounding away insistently to be released.

Instead, all that came dredging up was the disappointment, that cold, and bitter feeling that settled against your chest like a heavyweight. A feeling that hurt so much more than anger ever could.

It would have been so much easier, because he had promised, such a long time ago that he would never do this. That he would never take your trust, your belief in him, and twist it into nothing. But it just wouldn't come. No matter how much you tried to reason it was justifiable to feel as such... you did nothing but lower your head, swallowing the bile you could feel wanting to climb up your throat.

He hadn't looked even the least bit regretful, so why had he promised – why make so many promises that would never amount to anything in the end?

"Why did you do it?" Your voice was thick with emotion.

You pressed a hand to your face, wanting nothing more than to be alone, to forget, to not see the damage that you knew was being displayed so easily on your hunched shoulders (trembling figure slowly moving backwards, wanting to slink away back out the door and never look back).

"Why now?" You breathed, sagging against the door.

He didn't answer.

"Why now?" You demanded, jerkily moving your hand away from your face, feeling the nails sharply dig into your palms. "Tell me that at the very least. Allow me that. Give me that..."

He didn't say a single word. Instead, he turned away, and you felt your heart stutter, watching as he simply walked away. As if you hadn't asked for the truth, his reasons why, as if – you bit your lip, swallowing the whimper that tried to crawl its way up your throat.

You heard a door close, and your weak, trembling legs gave out. You hit the floor soundly, eyes watering even as you tried so hard to not cry, to not make a single sound.

"Oh..." Your voice broke, but that did not stop the bitter laugh from falling off your lips. "Reborn lies."