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#sonny corleone x reader
lostloveletters · 4 months
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One of Those Nights (Sonny Corleone x Reader)
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Summary: You’re Sonny and Sandra’s go-to babysitter, and when Sandra’s out of town for the weekend, Sonny needs all the help he can get.
Note: College-aged female reader, but no other descriptors are used. I listened to Donna Summer while writing this lol. Anyway, my first Godfather reader-insert fic! Do not interact if you're under 18, a terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.
Word count: 1.8k
Warnings: Implied age gap, power imbalance, cheating. Sexually explicit content involving unprotected sex and Sonny's canonically huge cock. A little bit of praise kink. Do not interact if you're under 18.
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Your eyes fluttered open from your half-asleep stupor at the sound of the front door’s locks clicking. Sitting up on the couch, you quickly smoothed out your blouse and skirt. You just barely made it into the kitchen when Sonny got in.
“Sorry I’m back so late. I wanted to be home to put the kids to bed—“
You shook your head, smiling. “It’s fine, Mr. Corleone. Frank and the twins are already asleep. There’s some sausage with peppers and onions in the icebox if you haven’t eaten. I can heat it up quick on the stove for you.”
“Jesus, you’re already doin’ us a favor staying the weekend while Sandra’s outta town,” he said, shedding his tie and undoing the first few buttons of his shirt. “And how many times do I gotta tell you, you can call me Sonny.” He playfully pinched your cheek. “I’m not that old yet, am I?”
“No,” you giggled. “Sorry, Sonny.”
The kitchen's layout was almost second-nature to you at that point, having done plenty of cooking for Sonny and Sandra's sweet kids when you babysat them. You grabbed a frying pan, setting it on the stovetop and pouring in a few drops of olive oil before turning on the flame. By the time you got the plate you saved for Sonny out of the refrigerator, the oil was sizzling, and the scent of sweet peppers and onions filled the kitchen again when you’d scraped the contents of the plate into the pan. 
Sonny was quiet behind you, save for him tapping his freshly lit cigarette against the porcelain ashtray on the kitchen table. You knew the sound well. His gaze burned through your back to your rapidly beating heart as you became increasingly aware that you were alone with him, the man who you lusted after in quiet guilt, because he was married and you were his children’s babysitter, for Christsake. 
After a few minutes, the sausage with peppers and onions appeared thoroughly reheated, and you transferred the meal back onto the plate. You grabbed a nearby loaf of crusty bread, cutting a piece for him and placing it with the rest of the food.
“Thanks, sweetheart,” Sonny said, grabbing the plate from the counter.
“Anytime.”
You returned to the living room, tuning the radio to the station that was broadcasting Lights Out, a late night horror show that always sucked you in no matter how hard you tried to remind yourself it was only a radio story. At least it’d get your mind off of Sonny, out of the gutter–or into a different one at least. You sat on the couch, fidgeting with your hands as you let yourself get lost in the host’s voice as he told the latest tale of terror.
You nearly screamed when Sonny appeared in the living room with his plate of food and asked, “You listen to this garbage?”
“It usually scares me into staying awake.”
He snickered to himself, taking the spot on the couch next to you. “For what?”
“My roommates and I play it in the dorm during finals to keep us up when coffee doesn’t cut it.”
“How’s college goin’ anyway? Straight As, right?”
“I made the dean’s list last semester.”
He shook his head. “Smart and beautiful, whatever lucky guy ends up with you is gonna have his hands full.” He glanced at your chest, his eyes lingering on your breasts for a moment before going back to his food. “Your cooking might be a little better than San’s. Don’t tell her I said that.”
You smiled, keening at his compliment. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
“You didn’t have to stay up for me, you know.”
“I know, but I wanted to.”
“Why’s that?”
You faltered. “I just wanted to see you.”
He smiled, amused by your answer. “You’re sweet. Gonna give me a toothache if you keep that up.”
“Is that so bad?”
Sonny shook his head as he set his plate down on the coffee table. “‘Course not.” He got up to turn the radio off, the sound of his voice engulfing you in a warm haze, “Don’t get a chance to be alone with you enough.” He placed his hand on your knee when he sat back down, rubbing his thumb against your stocking-clad leg, the feeling frustratingly electric as the thin fabric was all that lay between the skin-on-skin contact you craved from him.
Your lips parted, trying to conjure up a response, but only managing a shaky breath and a weak nod of agreement. 
“We don’t gotta do anything you don’t wanna do, doll,” he whispered, his voice low.
“I want you, Sonny,” you assured him. 
He kissed you with a passion you swore only existed in movies, not the hesitant or sloppy handling you’d experienced from past boyfriends, but the certainty of a man who knew exactly what he wanted. Heat rushed over your skin at the confirmation that he wanted you, his hands on your body, sliding up your skirt as he grabbed your ass, pulling you closer to him so that you were practically straddling his lap. You steadied yourself on his biceps, giving them a squeeze, letting yourself feel him, acknowledge your desire for him that had been latent until then.
You moaned into his mouth, his tongue capturing the sound, claiming your expression of desire as his. And who else would it be for? You’d always found him handsome and charismatic, always were a bit too curious about what was behind each vaguely flirtatious comment or sly wink he’d send your way when no one else was looking. 
“Sonny, where–where should we–”
“We can do it out here, but you gotta be quiet. You can do that for me, right?”
You nodded eagerly.
Hunger glistened in his dark eyes as he smiled wolfishly. “Attagirl.”
A whimper escaped your lips at his praise, the way he made you feel naked with just his gaze. You unbuttoned your blouse, letting it slip from your arms and tossing it aside onto the floor. Sonny pulled you onto his lap, burying his face in the crook of your neck while he kneaded your breasts through your bra. Soon, that wasn’t enough, and he pulled them from the cups, his hands on your soft skin as he squeezed. His thumbs brushed over your nipples. You gasped. You wanted his hands on you like that all the time, had imagined–secretly hoped, even–that he’d do it one day while you were in the kitchen or in the narrow hallway to the bedrooms, that he’d grope you, kiss you, do something to make you stop feeling so crazy about him. In that moment you realized getting what you wished for only made you want him more.
His lips burned deliciously against your skin, and you groaned at the gentle bites he left on your neck and shoulders. You rocked your hips against his, feeling his hard cock straining through his pants, desperate for more friction against your pussy. 
“You feel that? You feel what you do to me?” he murmured against your tender skin.
“I need you,” you whined. “Please, Sonny.”
“Alright, doll. Lay back for me, alright?”
You did as he asked, shifting off of his lap to lie back on the couch. You watched intently, hungrily, as he unbuckled his belt, pulling his cock free from his pants, slowly pumping his length in his hand. You nearly choked. Sandra had made jokes about Sonny’s size before, ones that made your face heat up in embarrassment at her talking so crudely about him, but you’d always thought she was exaggerating. 
“Oh my god,” you breathed, silently wondering if he could even fit inside you, an almost morbid curiosity only further fueling your desire.
A tender concern spread across his face as he searched yours for any sign of hesitation. “You sure you’re alright with this?”
You nodded. “I’ve wanted you in a bad way for so long.”
“How bad?” he asked, his voice husky and low.
Your lips nearly touched his as you whispered your answer. “Shameful.”
He kissed you again, this time with an intensity that nearly knocked the wind out of you. His fingers dug into the waistband of your panties and stockings, pulling them down so you could kick them off, ending up with one leg hanging off of the couch, exposing your wet pussy for him. You buried your fingers into his hair, the kiss desperate and wanton, your mouth open for him in a soft gasp as his pushed his tip inside you. 
It wasn’t enough, the primal part of your brain screamed. You needed more. Digging your nails into his scalp, you lifted your hips, taking more of him in you.
“Don’t hold back, Sonny. I can take it,” you said.
He licked his lips, staring at you for a split second before determining you meant what you said. He filled you, your pussy clenching around his cock as he thrust into you, finding a rhythm that would’ve been painful if you weren’t already wet for him. 
“Y’know, I used to get off thinkin’ about this,” he grunted, “bending you over the kitchen counter or up against the bathroom door.”
“Sonny–I–”
“You know how long I’ve wanted you? Now I’ve got my pretty college girl coming apart for me.”
“Oh my god–fuck–Sonny–” Your heart was pounding in your ears, eyes struggling to stay open as his thrusts became deeper, more erratic. He was close, his cock twitching inside you, hitting that spot you’d only ever reached with your fingers before. No faking it, no having to do the heavy lifting yourself. 
He had to put his hand over your mouth when it hit you, white hot pleasure bursting in your brain, pulsing through your pussy as you grabbed at him, digging your fingers into his arms to ground yourself, feeling as though you’d lose control of your body otherwise. Your moans were muffled, incoherent nonsense as he fucked you through your climax to reach his. With another hard thrust, he came inside you. Overwhelmed by the sensation, your hips bucked and your pussy clenched hard around him, milking his cock as he came.
“Look at you, takin’ it all–fuck–” Sonny hissed out through gritted teeth, trying to maintain what little self-control he had as to not make too much noise. “So fuckin’ good for me–”
You whined at that, your overstimulated, fucked-out brain going into overdrive. You wanted to be good for him. You were good for him. 
You weren’t sure when it got so still, so quiet, but the only sound in the room was your and Sonny’s heavy breathing. He pulled out of you, your pussy feeling achingly empty. You looked at the ceiling, mildly aware of Sonny staring at you.
“How're you feeling? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked.
“I’ll be lucky if I can walk tomorrow,” you said breathlessly. “But that was great. Really I–I don’t know what else to say.”
He caressed your cheek, bringing your attention back to him. “I’m gonna get you a towel, alright, sweetheart?”
You nodded, smiling a bit when he kissed your forehead before disappearing down the hall to the bathroom. And there were still two whole days left before Sandra got back. You smiled wider.
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melis-writes · 9 months
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Mafia Wife [Sonny Corleone x Reader Multichapter, 18+ Smut] Chapter 1 – La Famiglia Giordano.
Read on AO3 / Chapter Masterlist.
18+, explicit smut read.
“You wanted to name our first-born daughter Gabriella.” / “You’re Gabriella, aren’t you?”
“The underboss’s wife”; that’s who you are, and the whispers of enemies, family and colleagues alike know it too. You’re no stranger to the underworld of crime surrounding you including the one run by the Corleone family’s underboss; Santino Corleone. The streets run red with blood and brutality under Santino’s influence but it’s Santino who feels hit by the thunderbolt at the very sight of you—pushing away his womanizing and notorious unfaithfulness. You unexpectedly find yourself in a position of power balancing your marriage with the fate of the Corleone’s family’s future whether it be through Santino’s infamous brutality or the love he finds amidst the man he claims to be.
[WARNINGS]: Mentions of violence & death / Alcohol use / Pregnancy / Childbirth.
[AUTHOR'S NOTE]: The very first chapter of my Sonny Corleone x Reader fic is FINALLY here!! 🥰✨ Thank you guys SO much for all of the endless support and love this fic received when it was just an idea and barely typed out! I'm so glad to finally have it up. By far the most exhausting and longest part of the fic process is planning a brand new one for me, and I had definitely been much busier than usual when planning out/writing this fic which is why it took so long to write. I had to give something for the Santino girlies as I'm one myself!! 👀❤️ Please read ALL of the tags on this fic on AO3 before diving into the chapters as it'll give you a good understanding as to what the entire fic and chapters will be like. This goes for ALL fics I write! The tags are there for a reason. This fic is also 18+ only, just like all of my other works forever and always. This is meant for adults to read only. ✋🏻
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Chapter 1: La Famiglia Giordano.
[ Barzini Family Estate, 1948 ]
“Nobody wants another war,” Don Barzini states, watching the ice soaking in his glass of whiskey. “Nobody wanted another war; isn’t that how it always goes?”
Don Tattaglia gives his head a shake, relaxing in the leather armchair he sits across from Barzini. “We have Sollozzo to thank for all of that.”
Having an otherwise civil discussion between two closely allied business partners and old friends, the bond Don Barzini and Don Tattaglia’s family share has been stronger than ever since Sollozzo. 
Despite successfully allying together against the Corleones throughout the Five Families War and coming together for talk over business, neither Barzini nor Tattaglia can ignore the air of tension that’s formed between them now. 
Barzini can easily tell Tattaglia is unnerved as he sips his whiskey again, savoring the smokey notes of the liquid over his tongue while noticing how Tattaglia is nearly chugging back his drink.
“You’re tense,” Barzini comments, somewhat surprised by Tattaglia’s behavior. “Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind or not?”
“How can I not be?” Tattaglia swallows down his drink. 
“You’re looking at all of this the wrong way, my friend,” Barzini gives a reassuring smile. “You’re on the winning side. The Godfather has no leverage over either of our families or—”
“Vito Corleone isn’t my concern,” Tattaglia interrupts.
“Hmm,” Barzini pauses, taking a sip of his drink again. “Then that’s a first.”
“It’s his son,” Tattaglia adds.
“Which one?” Barzini rolls his eyes. “They’re all equally useless in their own ways.”
Tattalia opens his mouth to answer before pausing for a moment; a look of absolute defeat crosses his expression, forming into regret, then helplessness. “Does the name ‘Gabriella’ ring a bell to you?”
Barzini raises a curious brow. “Maybe. Should it? Does The Godfather have another daughter we don’t know about?”
“He has a daughter-in-law,” Tattaglia answers, “Gabriella Corleone. She’s the daughter of Francesco Giordano.”
Barzini tenses for a moment, no longer focusing on his whiskey. “I… I see.”
“You know Gabriella then?” Tattagia asks back.
“Not personally, but her name was spoken often in my household. Was,” Barzini emphasizes. 
Tattaglia sighs softly, giving his head a shake.
“Emilio wanted to marry her,” Barzini continues, mentioning his eldest son. “He spoke of Gabriella fondly and often, but she refused him and his advances. Now you’re telling me she’s part of the Corleone family?”
“Francesco did well hiding the news from us for the most part,” Tattaglia points out. “Everyone else must have known.”
“No, no,” Barzini shakes his head, refusing. “I don’t think of it in that way. Francesco is a dear friend. He doesn’t ‘hide’ things. He values the privacy he can give his family.”
“If you want to put it that way,” Tattaglia mumbles. “It’s none of our business, is it? She married Santino Corleone, the underboss.”
Barzini freezes in his seat, attempting to calm himself down internally as Tattaglia immediately picks up on Barzini’s shocked expression.
Tattaglia nods grimly, “do you know what you’ve done?”
“Don’t,” Barzini mutters softly, holding up his free hand. 
“She’s pregnant,” Tattaglia adds. “Do you even care? Do you know what’s going to happen now? To your investments? Your wealth? Your bank accounts with Giordano?”
Barzini suddenly lets go of his whiskey glass, watching as the glass shatters to pieces over the floor and the alcohol spills free onto the wood. 
Barzini covers his face with shame, feeling a knot of heavy emotions cause him to feel nauseous almost instantly with unimaginable guilt.
A heavy silence sits in the air between the two men for a minute as they ponder, having nothing else to say to each other. 
“I will apologize to Gabriella,” Barzini finally speaks, raising his head out of his hands.
“You can’t,” Tattaglia frowns. “You can’t do anything anymore.”
~
[ 1921 ]
“Gabriella… Little Gabriella.” You’re the first-born daughter in your family to four older brothers, and the eldest to your twin sister, born just forty minutes apart.
Although your mother went into labor knowing she’d welcome two children instead of one on June 19th, 1921, nothing could surpass the joy your mother and father felt when you were born.
Just as your four eldest brothers had been born, your mother gave birth to you and your twin sister Bella at home, surrounded by two Italian-American nurses from the community who had helped your mother through her previous deliveries.
Your parents weren’t sure what to expect when your mother realized she was pregnant with her fifth child since the last four children she gave birth to were all boys.
“Will it be another boy this time?” Your father chuckled and placed his hand over the top of your mother’s seven-month-old baby bump. “Perhaps two boys?”
“Oh, please,” your mother let out a laugh, “we have more than enough boys. I would love a daughter this time around. One boy and one girl, or twin girls even.”
“What a dream that would be,” your father grinned. “It seems like we’ve had all the luck in the world for having sons. No matter,” he leaned over, kissing your mother’s baby bump gently. “Boy or girl loved all the same. Spoiled like his or her other siblings. Only two this time…” He pulled away, looking up at your mother. “I can’t wait to meet them, darling.”
“Me too, sweetheart,” your mother blushed and laced both of her hands with your father’s. “Two more additions to the family. You know what I said when we first married? About baby names?”
“I do, mhmm,” your father nodded. “You wanted to name our first-born daughter Gabriella.”
“I do,” your mother smiled warmly. “I still do.”
“Of course. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. I still remember,” he gave your mother’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “I hope this time we get to meet little Gabriella.”
“I hope so too, my love.”
Even before you were born, you were loved. The idea of you was loved, your name was loved, and everything and anything you could be from birth to adulthood to old age was loved. 
Nothing compared to how overwhelmed with joy your mother felt when she smiled up weakly at you, tears in her eyes from excruciating contractions hitting her again and again to see and hear one of the nurses declare, “it’s a girl!”
Before your mother went back into labor to give birth to your twin sister forty minutes later, she held you in her arms and cooed to you through her tears of happiness. “Gabriella… Gabriella...”
She kissed your cheeks wet with tears as your father let you hold his finger with your tiny hand, looking down upon you with so much love and happiness.
You were born into this world loved and welcomed just as your siblings were, and just as you would always be. 
Your twin sister and you were born to the Giordano family; a family that came from money which was no secret nor meant to be one.
Your father, Francesco Giordano, better known as “Frankie” by his friends and business partners, was born in Sicily, but your grandparents had already been living in and had immigrated to New York.
Your father came from a lengthy family history of educated individuals; spanning seven generations of university graduates and had graduated from Columbia University himself in 1912.
Your mother, Rosa nee De Luca, who was born in Long Island, New York to Sicilian parents, had met your father in that same year. 
Having many connections or even just one to a crime family served to be the best for anyone’s interests, even those who didn’t want to get “involved” indirectly or directly, and then there are always individuals who wouldn’t mind the close ties with the mafia so as long as they stray from direct intervention or get too close, could always reap the benefits of work connections by having powerful friends in powerful places.
Your father and his family practiced the same mantra as many others; don’t get too close to the mafia to avoid getting burned, by maintaining a healthy business relationship and community friendliness.
Since the days of your great-grandfather, your father inherited the ownership of several small banks that his family had started; serving the local community and operating for middle-class families with day-to-day funds, support for home ownership, and loans.
The success of your father’s family business in banking was steady and promising, working out very well to attract a clientele of all kinds from the Italian-American community in particular.
Your father built his business connections where your grandfather left off but also started new ones with the Italian community in the neighborhood and area as well as being involved with all of the crime families himself, but with some more than others.
Everyone, including the mafia, knows Frankie Giordano to be an honest businessman who makes a living to feed his family. Your father also happens to be smart and witty about it too.
Frankie Giordano built a name for himself without feeding off of his father’s legacy and thus deepened the trust and bond the Giordano family already had with the mafia when it came to loans and money laundering.
One could say your father always went to the bank laughing, and the mafia made sure of that for the excellent service rendered by the Giordano banks. 
Your father also knew that his future wife—your mother—would benefit greatly from that, and thus so would all of his and her children.
Your father had no intention of keeping the truth and ties of his business affairs from you, your twin sister Bella, or any of your brothers for that matter. He would only wait to tell you all in due time when you’d be mature enough to understand and process it.
Even if in the future and all grown up none of you were remotely interested in the booming world of business and finance, you’d at least benefit immensely from inheritance and the steady flow of wealth and investments.
Your father’s closest business partners were that of the Corleone and Tattaglia families, although the Barzini’s were getting close enough to join the list too.
Your family is protected from conflicting interests and possible hostilities between rival families because your father’s business is legal, public and there’s mutual respect and understanding of what your family’s banks provide with respect grandfathered in. 
Despite Frankie Giordano’s wealth and success, your father was never the type of man to flaunt or brag—just maintaining his work ethic with dedication like none other; traits you would indeed inherit from him.
In many ways, your father would see a lot of himself in you as you grew older, such as the fact you too could see light at the end of every tunnel and that you also valued family and morals over money and power.
Such traits and beliefs made your father a true family man under times of turmoil and stress, and it also helped you understand the world around you better.
Your father married your mother, Rosa, in 1914 after almost two years of courtship with no intention to push or rush their relationship for the sake of tying the knot quickly.
Your mother comes from a family of wealthy socialites who built upon their wealth by investing and simply being connected to the right people. 
Your parents met each other through a social outing when your mother’s family became all the more interested in investing in Giordano family banks.
“It’s one thing to believe in something such as love at first sight. Love can be so fickle, but when it happens to you, it changes you completely,” your mother had once told you.
The wit and cunning your mother showed growing up as a young woman were learned from family members around her and would no doubt pass on to you as well.
Through your mother, you also discovered your passion and love for art and botany, whereas your twin sister Bella felt the same and was more connected to architecture, nature, and the outdoors. 
When your parents settled down and planned to have a family of their own, your brothers, you, and your sister would come from and be born into a family of love and respect that could never be unbound.
You knew from a very young age early on that your parents loved each other very much, and although all couples disagree and have their fights, you still can’t recall a single moment where you heard your parents raise their voices at each other in front of you, let alone fight or argue in front of you and your siblings either.
Growing up, all you knew is you loved and wished for the same peace and calm love your parents shared.
You don’t want to be “madly” in love; you want a peaceful and understanding love—the kind your mother and father share with each other with the kind of expectations they lived through and passed onto you.
Everything you’ve learned about love was through your parents, and it set your heart’s wants and needs as a young woman.
Your mother, who is not easily impressed by just anything, had taught you to be the same and explore your options with all things when you were a teenager.
“What pleases the eye once may not do so the second time. The world is filled with options. Your heart will know what’s best for you.”
While your mother was eighteen years old when she married your father, she gave birth to your eldest brother—Luca—in 1915.
Right up until your mother’s maternity leave, she was a private art teacher in New York City who specialized in teaching about painting; classical, renaissance, religious, and abstract. 
Your mother would not return back to teaching part-time until 1936 when your sister Bella and you were about fifteen years old and the family could easily sustain and take care of itself throughout the day.
Your mother also preferred to teach part-time instead of full-time before she began to have children because she preferred to spend most of her time with the grandchildren she welcomed over the years.
Coming up to 1939, you and your sister were eligible bachelorettes in your family alongside one bachelor brother—Giani—but it would be you, the most eligible bachelorette considering your circumstances and your sister’s traveling abroad that would not only bring you upon him—Santino Corleone—but the Corleone family and their history with the Giordano’s in due time.
[ 1920, Hell’s Kitchen, New York ]
“There will never be come a day—” Francesco says, sketching out the outline of a small olive branch over a scrap piece of paper in front of him, “where they outlaw this, my friend. Never. The olive? They could not,” your father admires his sketch, darkening the two olives he drew hanging on the branch. “The olive provides too much—it does too much. You buy it from Vito Corleone—Genco Olive Oil—” he smiles up at Vito who returns the warm expression, popping a black olive in his mouth from the small platter in front of them.
“And you use it in your cooking,” your father continues, taking an olive and putting it in his mouth. “It’s too versatile, too much of a need for the average family to outlaw.”
“I can’t see any Italian family without a bottle in their home,” Vito chuckles quietly.
“Exactly,” your father points out, reaching into the drawer beneath him for a moment.
Vito glances over curiously, watching as Francesco pulls out a concealed bottle of unopened Jack Daniel’s whiskey before setting it on the front counter in front of him.
“You don’t have to worry about the repercussions of buying a bottle or whole barrel of olive oil. This though,” your father taps the back of his fingernails against the bottle of alcohol. “Is a crime. This bottle here.”
Vito raises a curious brow; amusement twinkling in his eyes as to how nonchalantly your father pulled out a bottle of unopened whiskey.
“My father’s favorite drink served on ice. Bought and sold everywhere, now it’s illegal,” Francesco chuckles, shaking his head. “Now, buying and selling alcohol is illegal. Just like that.”
“They could never expect to stop everyone from doing so,” Vito chimes in.
“Exactly, my friend,” your father begins to open up the bottle, grabbing two small glasses from the cupboard beneath the front counter at which he and Vito sit. “They never can, but they know they never could. I don’t know how much longer this silliness will last, but,” Francesco begins to pour Vito and himself a glass of whiskey, “there’s plenty more of where this came from. No questions asked, no eyebrows raised.”
A curious look crosses Vito’s eyes as he takes his glass of whiskey before glancing down at it. Naturally, he immediately begins to wonder how many bottles Francesco has, where he got them from, how he got them, and where they’ll go.
“You are the most resourceful friend I know,” Vito comments, “do I need to ask?”
“You can,” your father replies, knowing, of course, Vito’s curiosity is only normal and expected, “if we can come to an agreement first, my friend.”
Your father was the first man to lend Vito Corleone money; give him his first full loan just by knowing his full name and without any interest.
Your father gave Vito a chance—one of his first chances—without even knowing it, and through such a chance came one lucrative business opportunity after another.
If your father and Vito were involved in something, then it meant there was plenty of money to be made under the table without asking questions and with no risk of getting caught.
Whether your father and Vito formally acknowledged it or not, they were a duo of sorts.
Your father trusted Vito while knowing Vito was indeed settling the roots of his one crime family just as the other mafia families in New York were.
Your father didn’t care about Vito’s involvement in crime or anything of the sort; your father was and is a banker by trade and name, and money always talked.
With prohibition starting in 1920 with a surplus of alcohol to be smuggled from your father’s contacts in Canada, there was nothing but profit to be made from the business for however long prohibition would last.
Securing and solidifying a strong friendship already, the prohibition era would make both your family and Vito’s very wealthy from the moment Vito smiled and shook your father’s hand in agreement, knowing all the same.
That was hardly the beginning of the Giordano and Corleone family’s friendship and ties with one another.
That same year, Vito Corleone would kill Don Fanucci.
Despite the concept being thought of by everyone who had the misfortune to know Fanucci, many didn’t believe Fanucci would be outright killed.
It was merely something men fantasized about to set themselves free of the financial obligations Fanucci put forward and fears they would be killed, extorted, go missing, or worse.
Taking Fanucci out was a fantasy, nobody could do it except for Vito Corleone.
If it was anyone your father had faith in to stand up to a brutish man like Fanucci, it was Vito Corleone, but your father also didn’t expect Vito to murder Fanucci the way he did and so soon.
On that fateful day, your father was closing up his main bank’s branch for the day; having put up the “closed” sign on the front door and lowered the blinds more than halfway down.
He had not yet locked the front door since he was up at the front anyway, and your father would be able to see anyone coming to approach the bank’s entrance before they could even think of trying the door.
At that time, your father was counting some of the spare change in one of the last drawers quietly, noting that it was 5:30 PM and rush hour had fully kicked in.
Humming quietly to himself, Francesco put the spare change in his pocket before closing up the cash register and locking it with his key.
Only for a moment did your father look up to see the faint figure of a passerby without paying too much attention to it.
In a few moments from now, Francesco would lock up the bank and head home; your mother was expecting him with a hot meal on the table and she was pregnant with you and your twin sister Bella at the time.
In a good mood and having enjoyed his work day, your father slowly began to stop humming upon hearing footsteps from that same figure grow closer to the bank’s front door.
Your father knew it wasn’t someone out strolling or wandering, but rather approaching the bank directly and standing in front of the door.
Your father kept his hand over his pistol carefully concealed underneath an old polishing rag on the front counter while watching the figure’s movements by the door.
It was then that Francesco noticed who the figure was, seeing no cause for panic or alarm.
It was Peter Clemenza, and he was revealing himself to your father to avoid a bullet in between the eyes at this hour.
Clemenza lifted up the “closed” sign in front of the door and peeked his head in; urgency in his eyes and beckoning with his hands to be let in.
Your father moved his hand away from the pistol and gestured for Clemenza to enter since the door wasn’t locked.
Sighing in relief, Clemenza quickly entered and shut the door behind him instantly, wasting no time.
Your father could easily tell Clemenza was alarmed but didn’t have a look on his face that spelled it was his problem.
Before your father could barely blink or open his mouth to ask Clemenza what was going on, Clemenza immediately stated, “Fanucci is dead.”
Your father stared back at him in shock, pausing for a moment to take everything in. “What? Dead?”
“Dead,” Clemenza confirms, locking the bank door and taking off his fedora. “I came over here as fast as I could to tell you.”
“Who else knows?” Francesco asked quietly.
“Roth, Genco, and Tessio so far,” Clemenza answered, catching his breath. “This is gonna send fuckin’ shockwaves throughout the neighborhood.”
“My God,” your father muttered under his breath, smoothening out the sides of his slicked-back hair. “And Vito? Does Vito know yet?”
Clemenza chuckles, shaking his head. “Who do you think did it, Frankie? Vito killed Fanucci. Shot that son of a bitch right in his own apartment. Don’t worry—“ He holds up a hand, “Vito handled everything.”
“Does he need anything?” Your father offered, stepping out from behind the front counter.
“Yeah, but I have a feeling you already know what,” Clemenza shrugged his shoulders. “That bastard Fanucci took half of our dime each and every time. He still dealt with your bank, right?”
“He has an account here,” Francesco nodded.
“Good,” Clemenza put his fedora back on, adjusting it. “Because everything in Fanucci’s account needs to all go to Vito now.”
It was true that Fanucci’s death, it now meant his money and assets held at the Giordano banks had to go somewhere, and your father couldn’t agree more to it going straight to Vito.
Fanucci had been stingy and extra hard on Vito over anyone, despite Vito being understanding and gentle to counter each and every time.
Still, Fanucci took hundreds of dollars worth of cuts from Vito’s pay every single time and still threatened to have him killed at the same time.
Francesco had no pity whatsoever towards Fanucci or his family, and if Vito was going to be the one taking back the money Fanucci stole from him and everyone else, then your father would agree to let it happen.
After all, Francesco knew Vito Corleone wasn’t the kind of man to take all that money and spend it on himself.
Vito proved your father’s beliefs about the security of Fanucci’s money and assets being transferred to Vito’s accounts when he saw for himself how Vito spread the money back into the Italian-American community and only taking the exact fair share that he kept track of since Fanucci began taking it.
Afterward, Francesco closed down Fanucci’s account at his bank and erased all existence and history of it, so if the police came around to ask questions, there wouldn’t be a single answer available.
Having Fanucci killed wasn’t something your father expected to happen in 1920—not while prohibition was still ongoing—and by Vito Corleone’s hand, nonetheless.
At the time, the only exciting news for Francesco Giordano was that he was expecting his wife to give birth to twin babies in the upcoming year.
~
In 1921, you and your twin sister Gabriella were born.
Your family did not live in stress due to any direct involvement in mafia affairs or had any fears to worry about what the mafia and those associated with its lifestyle of crime were doing.
Nothing stopped your family from continuing to live out their lives as normal, peaceful, and lawful with the police and government as many see fit despite what your father had known, seen, and been involved with in the past year.
Your father promised himself that he would never do or say anything to jeopardize the safety and happiness of his family nor put his family in any situation where they would live in fear and become potential targets to anyone or anything.
After all, your father had been expecting the birth of you and your baby sister—experiencing fatherhood all over again and surprisingly to two daughters this time.
Nothing else needed to get in the way of Francesco Giordano when he was welcoming two little babies to his family. Nothing to stress out his wife either and Francesco made certain of this.
It was on June 19th, 1921 that your mother, Rosa, went into labor in the comfort of her own home for six hours to give birth to you and your twin sister.
The same nurses who helped your mother give birth to your brothers were at your mother’s side again as your father also sat with her and held your mother’s hand for comfort—wiping the sweat off of her forehead and making soft conversation.
Everyone involved kept Rosa as comfortable as they best could, remaining vigilant in observation and getting Rosa anything she may need.
“Ti amo,” (I love you) your father whispered in your mother’s ear. “Sei una donna forte e ce la farai.” (You’re a strong woman and you’re going to get through this.)
Your mother’s strength thick and thin always had your father in awe, and your father never left your mother’s side throughout the six hours of tedious and agonizing labor.
Neither of your parents will ever forget the overwhelming joy and excitement they felt hearing the nurse announce, “it’s a girl!” for the first time as your mother gave birth to you.
Your mother smiled throughout her tears as she reached out to hold you and your father teared up too, seeing that he now had a baby daughter.
Sobbing from nothing but happiness and relief, your mother held your tiny self in her arms for a few moments before her body would prepare again to give birth to your twin sister Bella in the next forty minutes.
“Gabriella, Gabriella…” Your father cooed softly, attempting to soothe you as you cried out in your mother’s arms. “Welcome to the world, my beautiful girl.”
If it was a shock to have a daughter after giving birth to so many little boys, the ultimate surprise was your parents realizing that they were having two daughters.
So many happy tears and laughter were shared in that room, relief washing over everyone and the exhaustion of labor beginning to kick in.
Your family welcomed you and your twin sister Bella to the world in 1921, and your mother and father held both you and Bella in their arms, whispering promises that they would love and protect you both no matter what; that they’d do anything to give you and your siblings a good life.
Your eldest brother, Luca, who was five years old at the time was ecstatic, as were four-year-old Romeo, Casio, and little Giani to welcome two baby sisters.
Truly, it was one of the happiest moments of your mother and father’s lives.
~
In 1922 as you and Bella were just little babies growing up, one thing had become all the more apparent to all men who lived in Long Island—particularly the Italian community and the one in Hell’s Kitchen too.
Crime families at this time had bonded and grown stronger with all the more influence now. They were too powerful to be considered Fanucci wannabees as they could no longer be reckoned with alone.
Such power and influence amidst crime families brought business and organization, but that also meant rampant crime and fear even if it was not always noticeable.
One had to be careful dealing with crime families for whatever reasons since rivalry, although relatively uncommon at the time did exist and caused enough trouble.
Your father was only allied with and close friends with Vito and the Corleone family at the time, so no rivalry concerned him.
“Let me know if you need anything else, my friend,” Francesco said, patting Vito’s shoulder. “I can find a way to get funds to you in Sicily in less than two days if needed.”
“I will be fine, Frankie. Thank you,” Vito chuckled and smiled at your father. “I’m very grateful and appreciative for all the help you’ve provided my family and me.”
“You know I can say the same to you,” Francesco nodded back. “I’m too used to seeing you down these neighborhoods. You’ll be missed, Vito Corleone, but this trip is just what you need, isn’t it? For family and for peace.”
“Exactly,” Vito reaffirmed, “I won’t put it off longer than I need to. Don Ciccio is a withered old man now but he doesn’t deserve to die from something so merciful such as old age.”
“I agree,” Francesco replied. “He is a vile and sick man obsessed with power. He always has been. Maybe once he’s finally out of the picture, the rest of us can peacefully return to Sicily for a family trip as we wish to.”
“Many have said the same to me before,” Vito frowned. “I doubt Ciccio will remember me, but that is exactly what I will use to my advantage. It didn’t have to be this way, but…” Vito stroked his chin, “I lost my entire family to that foul man.”
“You don’t need to justify it to me or anyone else, Vito,” Francesco shook his head. “His death is in your hands now. You know I would come to aid you if I could. Either way, I support you.”
“I know you would, my friend, which is why we must part ways for now,” warmth flickered in Vito’s eyes. I can’t do this to you; you just had your little girls and they need their father with them more than ever.”
“So as long as they get to see their godfather soon again,” your father grinned. “Rosa is expecting you and Carmela all ready for dinner. Mrs. Corleone is expecting now too, is she not?”
“Indeed,” Vito beamed. “And we are taking little Michael to Sicily for this time on this trip.”
At that time, Carmela Corleone was pregnant with her first and only daughter, Constanzia.
“Ah, little Michael,” your father’s eyes lit up. “No naughtiness from the little man, I hope?”
“He’s a good, quiet young man,” Vito let out a soft laugh. “This trip will give him more stories to listen to about Sicily since he won’t remember it when he’s older.”
“Of course,” your father smiled, “just keep that fiery Santino by your side.”
“Carmela says the same,” Vito pointed out. “Don’t worry, I will. He’s a good boy too, I promise, although he could benefit from learning more manners.”
“Can’t we all?” Laughing, the two men shared a farewell hug.
“Be careful and be well, Vito,” your father cautioned. “Enemies may still be lurking in Sicily, looking for you, especially if you seek revenge.”
“It’ll be as if I wasn’t even there.”
~
[ 1939, Present Day ]
The first to welcome their first children into the Corleone family with Carmela and Vito Corleone excited to welcome a grandchild are Tom and Theresa Hagen; expecting their first baby early next year.
It’s no surprise that at first all eyes were on Santino—the eldest son of the Corleone family—to settle down and start a family first instead of Tom or anyone else, despite Tom being the same age—twenty three.
The only difference between the two men in terms of settling down to have a family was that Tom is in love with an investing in his love life and marriage with Theresa, an American woman, whereas Sonny hardly knows what “settling down” means.
It’s only in Sonny’s best interest to switch from one woman to another, a one nightstand again and again with no care as to how others may see Sonny to be very promiscuous with no shame or intent to stop sleeping around to even think about marrying someone.
Celebrating the baby shower for Tom and Theresa planned today, the nature of the event to both Tom and Theresa is private and intimate, hence their invitations only being sent out to the closest friends of the Corleone family.
Only the Giordano’s, Barzini’s and Cuneo’s are invited today with the vast majority of the women helping with the cooking back inside and the men upstairs in Don Corleone’s office.
Despite the family history with the Giordano’s, this is the first time you’re attending a Corleone family event and the very first time you’ll be visiting the Corleone estate.
Your father and brothers have visited the Corleone’s numerous times previously and know them better than any other business partner or friend, but neither you nor Bella have had the opportunity to yourselves.
Bella is more than halfway through her first semester at the Academy of Fine Arts in Vienna however, leaving you to be the only woman of the family next to your mother.
With the baby shower celebrations ongoing this afternoon in the courtyard of the Corleone estate to enjoy the fresh spring air and sun, men seeing Vito Corleone inside present Don Corleone with gifts meant for the expecting couple out of respect first.
Connie carefully balances one gift box over another by a table reserved just for baby shower gifts, making sure the presents don’t topple over one another from solely the sheer number of how many there are.
Arriving just five minutes after your father and brother, your chauffer passes clearance at the main gates of the Corleone estate before slowly beginning to park inside.
Your father and brothers have joined Barzini and Cuneo’s sons upstairs in Vito’s office where Sonny, Tom and Fredo also remain, but Michael—the youngest son of the Corleone family—is away at Dartmouth College for study.
Once the topic at hand ends in Vito’s office, Tom will come back out to the courtyard to thank and meet all the guests at the baby shower himself.
The rest of the men are not expected to in order to keep a low profile and spend as much time discussing business with Don Corleone as possible.
The only Corleone family member you know personally is Carmella and you’ve enjoyed every bit of time you’ve gotten to spend with her in the past when Carmela came to visit and bake desserts with you and your mother from time to time.
You know you’ll be meeting Theresa—the one expecting—and Connie Corleone as well for the first time.
“Benvenuti, miei cari!” (Welcome, my darlings!) Carmela happily blurts as she rushes down to the gates to greet you and your mother the moment you two step out of the vehicle.
“Carmela!” Your mother beams, pulling her into a warm hug. “Come stai dolcezza? È da parecchio tempo!” (How are you, honey? It’s been so long!)
“Yes, it has!” Carmela lets out a soft laugh before she cups your cheeks gently. “È passato tanto tempo perché guarda Gabriella! Adesso è diventata una bellissima giovane donna!” (It has been so long because look at Gabriella! She's all grown up now into a beautiful young woman!)
“Hi, Mama Corleone,” you giggle back, giving her a hug. “It’s so good to see you again.”
“And you as well, honey—mwah,” Carmela kisses both of your cheeks again, “she’s grown up to be such a beauty, hasn’t she?”
“Very much so,” your mother happily agrees. “And I’m excited for her to meet your girls!”
“As am I!” Carmela gestures excitedly, “come on in, ladies. All the men are already inside seeing Vito, I doubt they’ll even bother to come step out but in any case—that doesn’t matter. We’re all very excited for Theresa expecting her little one soon!”
“How far along is she?” You ask, walking into the Corleone estate grounds with your mother and Carmela.
“She’s about seven months pregnant now,” Carmela answers. “I can’t wait to introduce you to her. I know all you lovely ladies will get along just fine!”
Before you can say anything else, you step into the Corleone estate’s courtyard with Carmela and your mother to be hit with awe from the beauty of the estate surrounding you.
A gazebo stands in the further end of the courtyard with the manor itself built in a classic American style but with small details to Italian architecture.
The courtyard in which you stand in is surrounded by a blossoming garden, spotless and filled with ample enough space to host over four hundred people comfortably.
“So beautiful,” you murmur in surprise; momentarily turning back to see your chauffer placing the carefully wrapped giftboxes filled with the presents your mother and you chose for the baby shower by the table with the other gifts.
For your baby shower gift to Tom and Theresa, you picked out an abundance of cotton diapers, two bibs, three different pacifiers and a baby mat. 
As your mother and Mama Corleone are lost in conversation, you look up to see a heavily pregnant woman—Theresa—rise up from her seat at her table with  her hand over her baby bump.
Petite frame, blonde with bright eyes and American, Theresa’s eyes land on you as another woman approaches her by her side—a Sicilian—who looks like a striking combination of Carmela and Vito combined.
You assume this must be Connie—the only daughter of the Corleone family that your mother and Mama Corleone lead you up to now for introductions.
“Here is our lovely Theresa!” Carmela gestures to the pregnant young woman. “Seven months in with her little one already. Theresa, this is the daughter of my best friend, Gabriella. Her family is from Sicily too.”
“Hello,” Theresa shyly reaches out her hand to you. “It’s nice to meet you, Gabriella.”
“It’s nice to meet you too, Theresa,” you give her a polite smile, shaking her hand back. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you!” Theresa’s eyes light up.
“And this is my daughter, Connie,” Carmela introduces Connie to you next, and you immediately notice Connie is much less shyer than her sister-in-law Theresa with a sparkle of excitement in her eyes from being introduced to you.
“Hi Gabriella,” Connie grins, “are you the only daughter in your family too?”
“Not exactly,” you let out a laugh, “I have a twin sister but she’s studying abroad.”
“Ah, lucky you! I’m the only sister,” Connie gives your hand a warm squeeze.
“I know what it’s like to grow up with many brothers around you, trust me,” you giggle back, knowing from what your mother told you that the Corleone’s are almost just as big of a family as yours and with many sons.
“Tell me about it,” Connie holds back her laughter and it immediately strikes you that Connie appears to be type of woman you can easily get along with and make the best of friends with her.
Just as warm, loving and trusting as Connie seems, you also can’t push past or ignore how you pick up an explainable kind of yearning sadness behind Connie’s eyes too.
Just as you’re thinking, Connie’s yearning to make a friend with someone like you and knowing she can easily be able to do so considering how close your families are; both of you around the same age and with familiar backgrounds.
Back inside Don Corleone’s office, greetings, congratulations and humble gift giving to Vito Corleone for Tom and Theresa’s baby shower has come to an end as Tom smiles to himself and keeps the stack of guests in the corner of Vito’s office and takes his seat again near his father.
A glass of richly aged bourbon is served for all of the men and Vito’s office door remains slightly ajar to help keep the air from getting stuffy from cigarette smoke.
“But the war,” Sonny begins, unamused, “it doesn’t mean too much for us, anyway.”
“Not at all,” your father says, shaking his head. “It’s a shame with all the bloodshed going on in Europe right now, but our interests remain the same and our assets here are protected.”
“We expect a prosperous new decade of us nonetheless,” Don Barzini adds.
“As do I,” Vito agrees. “One can only be concerned so much as to what strangers abroad are doing or how they risk their lives. We must work together so there’s no war between our families and only peace.”
“I have to say,” Tom speaks up, “to have no rivalry despite working with our families and their investments is impressive, Mr. Giordano.”
“I appreciate your praise, Tom,” Francesco gives Tom a polite smile. “In this line of work, I had to be a salesman and businessman. I hope our families can continue to be civil and work with one another. I know my wife enjoys the company of our family get-togethers and it would also be good for Gabriella as well, considering her sister is in Austria.”
“Ah, how is she?” Vito’s eyes light up in interest. “Enjoying her time abroad?”
“Indeed,” your father nods happily, “Bella is taking a varieties of courses on subjects in the arts, especially music and literature It’s good for her to broaden her horizons but I miss her, and I think Gabriella does too, of course.”
“Ah, very understandable,” Don Cuneo nods.
‘Gabriella?’ Sonny blinks, thinking to himself. ‘Who is she?’
“Michael is the same,” Vito gives his shoulders a shrug. “He is at Dartmouth now and I am proud of him for entering study in political science.”
“He doesn’t wish to follow in your footsteps, Vito?” Don Barzini smirks.
“He wants no involvement whatsoever,” Vito shakes his head. “Which is more than fine with me. Michael seeks a career in politics. I say sometimes American politics can be so foolish, but Michael can also be stubborn when he wants to. Nonetheless,” Vito places his hands down upon his desk, “I’m very proud of him.”
“Indecisive, perhaps?” Your father suggests.
“Nah,” Sonny interrupts, scoffing. “Michael wants to do everything and anything.”
“He is the youngest after all,” Tom chuckles quietly. “Then my sister Connie who is the youngest child of the family.”
“Ah, the lovely Connie,” Francesco smiles warmly, “of course. Michael is a bachelor, then?”
“All my sons are, except Tom,” Vito answers, somewhat unhappy about his answer. “Perhaps that will change, won’t it, Fredo?” Vito gives Fredo a gentle pat on the shoulder.
“Sure, Pop,” Fredo says back sheepishly.
“And Santino’s a different story,” Vito continues, gesturing to his eldest son.
“I dunno,” Sonny chuckles to himself, shrugging his shoulders. “Marriage isn’t really something on my mind just yet, you know.”
“Would you like to marry in the future, though?” Don Cuneo asks him.
“I do,” Sonny nods, “have some kids, a family—settle down, yeah. Why not? I just don’t think I got any opportunity to now but I’m not the kind of man who would push it all away.”
Vito nods, staring back down at his drink in hopes the conversation about Sonny being a bachelorette will change in the next few moments, for the sake of the Corleone family’s dignity.
Vito knows everyone else in the room is just as away of Sonny’s promiscuous behaviour and lifestyle as he is, after all.
~
Out in the courtyard with the ladies and you, most of the conversation continues with your mother, Theresa and Carmela, all giddy about Theresa’s pregnancy.
“Congratulations again, honey,” your mother tells Theresa, “how has it been for you so far? An easy pregnancy, I hope.”
“A little difficult, honestly,” Theresa admits, sheepishly. “It’s improving though.”
“It will for baby number two as well,” Carmela chimes in.
You turn back to Connie and smile, inviting a conversation of your own that she starts.
“Welcome, Gabriella,” Connie says to you, “it’s honestly nice to put a name to a face at last. Mama has told me a bit about you and your sister but we surprisingly never had the chance to meet.”
“I know,” you pout, “I wish we could have met one another much sooner. My twin sister is in Austria right now, actually, so she has no chance at all yet. You know, touring Western Europe when she feels up to an adventure. I’m not so lucky or adventurous though,” you laugh.
“Neither am I,” Connie admits, “it’s refreshing to meet someone like you. What’s Bella in Austria for?”
“Art school,” you reply, smoothening out your shirtwaist dress. “Art has always been a passion for Bella, mostly music, literature and art history.”
“Must run in the family then,” Connie beams at you, “mama told me both you and your mother are artists too.”
Flattered, you nod eagerly with a smile. “We’d like to say so! It runs within the ladies of the family. I adore fine art like sculpture and art history, but personally, it’s not my passion.”
“Applied arts then, maybe?” Connie offers, growing further interested in the conversation at hand.
“Something like that,” you ponder for a moment, “I prefer painting, like mama. I’ve always loved doing so.”
“Wow,” Connie murmurs to herself, “do you have any inspirations for making art?”
“Maybe not the answer you’re looking for—” you chuckle sheepishly, “but I’d honestly have to say emotions inspire me, and my environment. Even the weather—small things like that. Artists like Van Gogh and Monet also inspire me.”
“That’s amazing,” Connie brushes back a curtain of her dark hair behind her ear. “Mama had actually been telling me earlier about the private art school your mother teaches at and…I was honestly thinking about enrolling to get a feel for myself but I wasn’t entirely too sure.”
“Definitely go for it,” you can scarcely hide the enthusiasm in your tone. “Mama would be more than happy to guide you along the way too. I still attend when I have the time and you could too for passion or for credentials. There’s something for everyone.”
“Absolutely,” your mother chimes into the conversation. “I would love to show you around the school as well, Constanzia. Someday, Gabriella will have to show you her paintings.”
“I would like that very much,” Connie smiles back politely. “I can tell she’s very talented.”
“Thank you,” you blush.
“She’s a nurse by trade, did you know that?” Mama Corleone adds, causing both Theresa and Connie’s eyes to widen in surprise.
“I am,” you admit, noticing how proud your mother looks next to you. “Practice and passion versus hobbies and passion.”
“Wow,” Theresa breathes, “that’s wonderful. How do you like nursing, Gabriella?”
“So far, so good,” you giggle quietly. “I’m fairly new to the practice but I’ve been tending to some injured soldiers lately. It’s practical, and I’m excited to see where the career takes me.”
“A nurse at a baby shower, how nice!” Theresa gushes.
~
With business conversation endlessly continuing in Vito’s office, Sonny remains to be the only one itching to get out of his seat and at least take cigarette break from the stuffy talk he has no need to contribute too.
Then again, Sonny’s more obligated to listen and consider every word coming out of Vito’s mouth wisely due to being his father’s successor and having to expect the same business talks directed towards him someday.
“You can tell Luca,” Vito gestures to Sonny, grabbing his attention. “Give him a call and let him know, since he won’t listen to Tom anyway.”
Chuckles fill the room as Sonny gives a nod, sighing in relief under his breath and beginning to rise from his seat.
You’ve just stepped into the Corleone manor for a quick bathroom break after getting some much needed directions from Connie on how to navigate the estate; unable to stop yourself from gazing and admiring the furniture and fixtures of the stunning foyer.
Remembering Connie’s words on reaching the first bathroom, you begin to head down the hallway when you momentarily stop in your tracks to sneeze.
Covering your nose, you sneeze quietly and sniffle—instantly feeling a momentary sharp prickle in your nostrils.
Blinking, you continue walking forward—albeit slowly—due to being distracted by the small throbbing pain beginning to start in your nose.
“Ugh…” You rub your nose tenderly, eyes widening in surprise to see droplets of blood over your fingers.
A split second passes before you sneeze again, realizing the culprit is the stuffy and somewhat dust filled air in the hallway getting to you.
It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve experienced something similar, but it annoys you to no avail nonetheless.
You cover your nose and continue heading towards where you assume the nearest bathroom is, being careful so as not to spill any blood on the mahogany floorboards or onto your dress.
“Found it yet?!” You hear Connie’s voice echo down from the foyer as she peaks her head inside the estate.
“Yes, don’t worry!” You let out a half muffled call back, spotting the bathroom at the end of the hallway.
“Alright, I’ll wait for you back outside!” Connie shouts, shutting the front door behind her.
The “yes, don’t worry!” you proclaimed out catches Sonny’s interest instantly; the sound of an unfamiliar, yet sweet voice he’s never heard before.
Stunned, Sonny’s unable to focus on anything else and drowns out the chatter and noise from Vito’s office before he exits out into the hallway and shuts the door of Vito’s office behind him.
You sneeze again, whimpering out of annoyance as you feel blood beginning to trickle from your nose.
Following every sound you make, Sonny furrows his brows and walks downstairs and towards the hallway cautiously—both hands in the pockets of his dress trousers.
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Only a split second later does Sonny spot you; an unfamiliar woman with your back facing him, wearing a burgundy swing dress with white kitten heels, your hair curled over your shoulders and more peculiarly, how you clutch your hand over your nose.
“Are you alright?” Sonny speaks out to you, coming closer to step into your line of view.
You blink, assuming one of the Corleone family’s bodyguards or security must have heard you sneezing and walking around the manor by now, but when you turn around you can tell just by the posture and amused expression over the stranger’s face that he’s neither.
Sonny and you don’t know one another nor have you seen each other before. You’re not even aware of what the Corleone men’s names are besides Tom and Vito, and you just learned Tom’s today through Theresa.
Blush instantly hits your cheeks as you feel your skin warm at the sight of Sonny. This man is tall with a slim but lean, fit build; sharp shoulders giving Sonny a firm build, his hair in brunette curls and his jawline chiselled with a smirk over his face.
There’s an air of confidence over Sonny and you can already tell with just a glance that he’s someone important.
You assume just by Sonny’s body language across from you that aggressiveness isn’t unheard of from him, but he seems intrigued and even friendly towards you.
“Oh, fine, thank you,” you answer back, still covering your nose. “I didn’t imagine it to be so stuffy down here.”
Sonny chuckles, stepping closer to you before taking one hand out of his pocket to gesture around to the walls. “The walls in this place are older than you and be combined. Don’t mind that.”
You gaze up at Sonny, unable to stop yourself from blushing as he gets closer to you.
You lower your hand away from your face without even realizing it, revealing your bloody nose to Sonny.
Sonny barely reacts to the sight of blood over your face but the look upon his face that he gives you doesn’t appear the way one would gaze at a stranger or someone they’ve met for the first time; the look in Sonny’s eyes may as well tell him he’s known you his whole life.
Sonny wants to ask you if he’s seen you somewhere or if the two of you know each other from some time ago, but something urges him to keep quiet, knowing the answer must be no.
Sonny’s muscles tense from a rush of arousal hitting him at the sight of you, already wildly attracted to you with no intention of denying it.
“Here,” Sonny reaches into the breast pocket of his suit jacket, pulling out a neatly folded, silk handkerchief before handing it to you. “Don’t let it bleed all over you now.”
You hesitate for a moment, not at Sonny’s kindness but the expensive cloth he’s just handed you to wipe your nose with.
A warm, playful smile crosses Sonny’s lips as he reads through your hesitancy. “You’re Gabriella, aren’t you?”
Sonny knows better. An unfamiliar woman in his house with Mr. Giordano visiting? He’s already beginning to figure you out. Luckily, he didn’t assume you’re Bella.
“I am,” blushing, you answer a little out of breath and take the silk handkerchief from Sonny. “Thank you so much…” Your voice trails off as you realize you don’t know this man’s name.
“Santino Corleone,” Sonny introduces himself t you. “But everyone calls me Sonny.”
‘So he IS a Corleone…’
“Sonny,” you repeat, feeling your cheeks stinging with blush. “Thank you.”
Sonny grins, extending out a hand to shake yours as you wipe your nose with your free one. “It’s nice to meet you at last, Miss Giordano.”
As you shake Sonny’s hand back, you feel the same current of arousal rushing through him go through you.
“We haven’t met before, have we?” Sonny finally asks, unable to shake off the belief that he’s more than just familiar with you.
“This would be the first time,” you shake your head, “it’s nice to meet you as well. I’ve yet to meet your whole family yet, but,” you smile shyly, “thank you for having us to celebrate Tom and Theresa.”
“Thanks for coming,” Sonny smirks, “you’ve probably met Theresa already but Tom will be out in a moment and then you can see him too.”
You don’t notice Sonny’s eager eyes gazing up and down at your figure a split second after.
“Were you looking for someone or something?” Sonny asks you.
“Just the bathroom,” you admit, sheepishly. “I…” Your nose has fortunately stopped bleeding, but you look at the silk handkerchief in your hand to see the crimson mess staining through it.
“Don’t worry about it, darling,” Sonny scoffs; he couldn’t care less about the damn handkerchief.
“If you insist,” you begin to carefully fold the handkerchief in the palm of your hand. “It’s just about the whole reason why I came in.”
“Fair enough,” Sonny forces his eyes off of yours, gesturing further down the hallway. “Unless the whole baby shower is waiting for you to get back, I’ll help you out here. Give you a tour of the estate and every bathroom you can find in here.”
“Oh, Mr—” you correct yourself immediately, “Sonny—I would like that very much but I don’t want to interrupt what you’re doing for something like that—”
“Believe me, I insist,” Sonny interrupts, smiling at you. “Guests come first. It’s really no problem. Let me give you a proper tour around here.”
“Alright then,” you accept, smiling back at him. “If it’s no trouble with you, I’d love to.”
“Alright then, Miss Gabriella,” Sonny moves next to you, leading the way out of the hall. “Stay close to me, alright?”
Blushing furiously, you nod back at Sonny who looks over at you behind his shoulder. “I’m with you.”
There’s no doubt about it; had you refused to go along with Santino and returned back to the baby shower or simply didn’t choose to communicate or see Sonny again after today, of course your life would be different. Either way, it would have changed.
What would you know now in this fleeting moment that couldn’t possibly mean anything else to you, trusting in this influential man son to a powerful Don that you just met, feeling as if he’s suddenly wanted to treat you as someone else in his home other than a guest?
If anyone asked years from now, you would tell them the truth. Yes, you would follow Santino Corleone to the ends of the earth, to hell if you had to and beyond that to meet him in whatever life awaited you next.
This is just the beginning of what destiny has spelled out for you side to side with a man like Santino Corleone.
But for now, you follow Sonny in hopes you’ll get to know this kind stranger and the Corleone family better, because your heart is bound to give in sooner rather than later.
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waltzchristophh · 2 months
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SANTINO LOVES YOU ♡ drabble + headcanons
sonny corleone x reader
Sonny was a frequent at the corner market your step father owned, collecting dues for paid protection and most of all, pestering you.
Please leave comments if you enjoyed!
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Your eyes lifted from your book of poetry to the suspicious grocery patron as he stashed a blood orange into his pockets, holding a finger to his lips.
Shh.
The curly haired gangster maintained a subtle grin, pestering you further. That was enough. You stood from the cushiony saddle you rested upon and stomped furiously in Sonny's direction.
"Give it to me," You demanded with an extended hand.
"What? This?" The orange fell from his pocket and rested between his fingers. "You want this?"
Before you could snatch it back, he held the piece of fruit over your head like a cruel older brother.
"Oh, I don't think you're getting this back, sweet pea."
You maintained your dignity by refusing the jump for it, and instead took a different approach.
Your fingers crawled the length of Sonny's strong sides and lept to tickle Sonny's armpits while he still had his hand in the air.
He doubled over in laughter as you wrestled him for the orange. Soon the two of you were entwined in a fit of raucous laughter and giggles. A hastle that seemed nowhere near 89 cents.
"Quit it!"
"Sonny!"
Your step father's gut entered the room before he did. "Ay, Sonny."
The tackling immediately stopped, and the two of you brushed yourselves off, inching away from each other.
Finally Sonny broke the silence.
"Dunno why you bother paying my father; looks like she's got you covered," he shrugged with a grin.
---
headcanons
Your flirtatious affairs eventually turned into actual dates with Sonny knocking on your father's window with his jacket hung over his shoulder
"I'd like to see your daughter."
Within a few months you were one of the family.
You weren't completely oblivious to the family business, often pressing your ear to the door until Sonny caught you and shook you silly.
"C'mon what's'a matter with you?"
"But I can help!"
He rushes you away before explaining the situation: that it was unprecedented for women to be involved in the internal affairs of the Corleone family business.
Several months later after giving much thought to it, he began advocating for you're inclusion in the "family meetings" with full faith in your judgement
"She's a smart cookie, and she knows the trade well, her father owns a Bodega in Queens. They've got intel."
Vito took a liking to you as a young respectable woman, who wasn't afraid to put Sonny in his place.
Your conversations with him were pleasant and you loved hearing his stories about life back in the old country.
Needless to say, he was on board with this change.
A woman (non-italian at that) participating in male discussions was unprecedented. You challenged those norms and Sonny thought that was one of the sexiest things about you
"She may not have italian blood, but she has a strong italian heart, and thats good enough for me. Any questions?"
Any time clemenza tries to interrupt
"Woah, woah, woah- let 'er fucking finish first ya fuckin' jackass."
The two of you making fun of Carlo's flashy clothing at family dinners, which were almost weekly
"Would ya take a look at that fuckin' idiot. Cant believe hes marrying my sister," Sonny's hot breath whispered in your ear.
The two of you would be left in damn near tears of laughter.
"What's so funny?" Carlo would ask cluelessly.
Playing Gin rummy with the fellas and beating them almost every time.
Clemenza dropping his cards in disbelief
"That's my girl," Sonny smiles. "C'mere baby," as he smooches your forehead and cheeks.
With Sonny, every day was a beautiful miracle of joy, but when your father died a pit of sadness darkened your heart and your entire world went black.
He dried your tears with his hard thumb, looking down at you somberly
"Just let it out, honey. I'm here for ya. You're not alone, baby I'll never leave your side."
Looking up at him, hands entwined and sniffling a gentle smile
"It feels like my hands were meant to be held in yours, Sonny. I love you."
"I love you too, pumpkin."
Burying your nose into his chest and inhaling the musky fragrance of his Italian cologne and Cuban cigars.
'Poor butterfly by Sarah Vaughan playing softly on vinyl
Swaying with him to the music as he holds you closer to him. So close you could feel his heart beat to the rhythm
His lips caressing yours with loving tenderness
Monthly vacation to Sicily
Hanging over the edge of the balcony, allowing the straps of your satin nightgown to slip and fall from your shoulders
tipsy with old wine
He trails behind you, snaking a cool hand up your spine and holding your neck
Turning to face him and smiling like a mischievous child, tugging at his gold chain
"I want you to kiss me Sonny. Kiss me till I'm sick of it."
PLEASE COMMENT IF YOU ENJOYED :)
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a-boca-do-inferno · 5 months
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eu te amo agora (sonny corleone x reader)
summary: Love truly didn’t make sense. (y/n) would know. 
warnings: angst, cheating, light fluff
words: 1.0k
notes: yes, another songfic. it rocks what can i do. based on agora by alice caymmi.
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Don’t wait for him to come back. There are fifty holes on his skin and no life in his eyes. 
(y/n) prefers to tell herself every day Santino’s gone because the thought of his death is somewhat more bearable than his willing distance. And he was in the wrong! Yet, she was the one who hurt the most. (y/n) couldn’t look at him. Now he had a family of his own, and it was criminal the way his orbs shone with love towards his children. The worst part was she had no place in his life, not anymore. That meant having no right to feel betrayed by how happy he looked. She was now but a memory, forgotten in the back of his mind. 
“Sauce?”, inquires Carmela, causing the girl to blink at her. She had been in her own head most of the time, it seemed. The food looked delicious, though, and so she beamed back at the woman in silence. But Carmela was no fool. She knew (y/n) ever since she was a baby. “What’s on your mind, my dear?”
A sigh escapes her lips. “I’ve been working a lot, that’s all.”
“Yeah?”, Carmela hums and chuckles softly, serving (y/n)’s plate. “It sounds like your heart has been working quite a lot, too. If you don’t mind me saying.”
(y/n) snorts. She really knew her like no one else. “It doesn’t matter now.”
Carmela was aware of her and Sonny’s brief affair before he got married. She was a very attentive woman, especially towards her children. And instead of judging either of them, she kept to herself and subtly tried to amend things between her son and the girl. (y/n) was like family, after all, and it would help no one to feed any animosity at home. It was so hard, however, to pretend like nothing was ever happening when her heart broke into a thousand pieces every time Santino and his wife exchanged normal couple affection. 
“Oh, but it does”, Carmela murmurs, still with her voice as light as a feather. She gives Sonny a look from across the room. He’s talking to Tom about sports, gesticulating and laughing out loud. His presence is intoxicating. (y/n) feels sick. “Look at him. He’s a better actor than you.”
She almost chokes on her drink, but puts herself together quickly. “What?”, she scoffs, completely incredulous. Sure, Carmela knew about it and (y/n) knew she knew about it, but the comment was bold even for her. His mother had never been so direct. Still a bit stunned, the girl adds, “you’re seeing things, Carmela.”
“I put that boy into this world, honey”, she says smugly, then gives her a knowing smile. “And there’s no need to be shy around me, I’d take you over his wife any day.”
(y/n) couldn’t help but snicker, causing a few eyes to land on her, including Santino’s. She wasn’t one to draw attention to herself, after all. Her cheeks burned and she turned to Carmela, ignoring the surprise on Sonny’s face to see her actually do something while in his house. His orbs on her figure felt like hot stones coming in contact with her skin. He wasn’t a discreet man, and she cursed silently for that fact. The next thing she knew, someone had taken a seat at her side. 
(y/n) couldn’t bring herself to turn and face him, and then came his voice, deep and full of playfulness. “Don’t be rude now, doll.”
Damn him. She gives Carmela a look as if asking for help to deal with the situation, but the woman quietly gets up and leaves them alone at the table. Despite loving her like a mother, (y/n) hated her guts at that very moment. She had no choice but to turn towards Santino, who waited for her with a loose smile on his perfect features. Their eyes meet and for a split second, it’s like the very first time they met at that small family gathering for Connie’s graduation. Except it wasn’t, it never would be, not with his children playing in the backyard while his wife cooked with Carmela in the kitchen behind them. 
“Santino”, she gives him a small but polite nod. 
He raises his brows, amused by her response. “So formal.”
“Stop, Sonny”, (y/n) begs in a whisper, looking down at the table as she tries to recompose herself. But Sonny, ever the rebel, grabs her chin between his index and thumb delicately, making her stare back at him. She feels her face on fire again. “Sonny.”
“Every time I see you, you’re more beautiful than before, I swear to God”, he blurts out, his eyes unblinking and intense. Her knees are weak and she’s relieved to be seated right now. His words go like daggers through her heart. And he knows it. There’s pain in his voice, too. “You know I want you, doll. I always will.”
“I hate you”, she grits her teeth, holding his gaze with anger. Her eyes are filled with tears, but they don’t fall. Not anymore. “So much.”
He smiles slightly, but it’s a sad smile. Bitter. “I wish it could’ve been different. I really do.”
“It doesn’t matter now”, she repeats, yet it sounds more and more like she’s trying to convince herself.
Santino touches her hair hesitantly, probably sensing she’s gonna back away. She doesn’t. (y/n) doesn’t have it in her anymore to run away from him. He coos, his husky voice sending shivers down her spine, “it does, because I know I love you now.”
(y/n) doesn’t have a chance to process his words when Carmela comes back with his wife, both of them carrying trays. They set them on the table and everyone takes a seat. She didn’t even see when Sonny let go of her hair and turned forward, serving himself and teasing Tom about something. They laugh like nothing happened, which technically, it didn’t. Not to them. But her heartbeat felt like that of a captive bird’s. She ate quietly, Santino’s confession eating up her insides similar to acid. Love truly didn’t make sense. 
(y/n) would know. 
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deadvilesworld · 9 months
Text
I just started getting into the godfather and can’t help but feel disappointed in the lack of Sonny Corleone fan fiction. IM GETTING SCRAPS HERE. Young James Caan ( RIP ) played Sonny so well and for being one the most iconic and famous films of all time, I’m sad not see as much godfather ( Sonny ) fanfics. Thank you for attending my TED talk.
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diamonddiv245 · 1 year
Text
finché morte non ci separi
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Chapter 3: Visiting the lions den
February 17th
1943
New York/Long Island
Aurora had barely gotten a wink of sleep that evening, her mind just wouldn’t settle. Thoughts about Santino, Corleone’s and their appearance in her life and what it meant kept invading her thoughts.
By the time she was finally able to drop off she would only be able to squeeze in a few hours before her Nona woke her up in the early morning by pulling back the curtains and letting in the morning light.
“Up! It’s time to wake up. We’ve got to get you ready!”
Desperate for even a moment longer to rest Rory pulled the covers over her head.
“None of that this morning, you need to get in the bath and prepare for your introduction to the Corleone’s, now Ive already picked out your outfit.”
Don’t let her smaller frame fool you, her nona was quite a tough cookie.
After siting In the floral scented bath until she was practically a shrivelled prune on her grandmother’s orders, Rory was then moved to her vanity, which is where she currently sat watching as her Nona fussed with her hair.
“You don’t want anything too outlandish although at the same time you want to make an impression.”
Aurora was trying to pay attention to what Nona was telling her, but the the fumes from the hairspray that Nona was spraying into her already rolled up hair was burning her nose.
While her hair was setting gran moved onto Rory’s makeup.
Thankfully her Nona actually let Rory do this by herself, White her standing by of course.
First was the foundation, grabbing the brush Aurora dabbed the foundation over her face and then started to blend it into her skin. She then picked up the brow pencil and brush making sure to keep it a well manicured arch followed by eyeshadow, just a light pastel noting extravagant just to bring out my eye’s. The rouge on the cheeks gave a little more colour, and then finally Rory picked out her red lipstick.
After it was done Rory looked back at herself , not too bad.
Finally nona took the curlers out of Rory’s hair and then started ruining her fingers through her curled locked to get the combed-through curls perfect.
“Beautiful, now I’ve laid your dress out on your bed, I’ll be waiting outside for you.” Nona swiftly left the room.
Looking at the chosen dress Rory had to hand it to her nona, she certainly picked out a stunning dress.
A beautiful below the knee Dress with Pussy Bow Tie Neck, the traditional shirtwaist seemed to compliment her figure, the Crepe de Chine fabric was soft to the touch and felt smooth on Rory’s skin and the long sleeves which were very full at the cuff were light.the dress also had pretty smock stitching detail and little covered buttons to the front adding to its appeal, however Rory was a little unsure on the colour, cream was very daring.
After putting on pantyhose and her dress Rory then put on a pair of beige slingbacks that cushioned her feet.
Walking out into the hallway She gave a little Twirl for Nona, who’s eyes well up.
“Magnifico.”
Bashfully Rory looked down and fingered the soft fabric of her dress, it wasn’t often that Aurora was able to get all dolled up like this so it was a nice change.
The rest of the morning Aurora was trying to keep herself occupied, trying to keep her mind off the clock.
Her Grandmother was assisting in that, she kept giving Aurora chores one after the other. Just doing them kept Aurora entertained even if it was just helping straighten out the living room.
Finally around 9ish her Grandfather walked into the kitchen dressed up in his suit and with his hand made a coke here motion.
“Let’s go Aroura, it’s time.”
The three of us walked through the hallway with my grandmother fretting over me just one last time. Straightening out any creases, putting that last steam of hair into place and giving me tips.
“Remember smile, only spoke when addressed, let him make the first conversation, remember be demure.”
Suddenly everything was beginning to click for Rory. The primping and priming, the beautiful dress and her Nona’s words, the last time she had seen something familiar was when her dear friend Brava, during her courtship to her now husband Buono. For the month of her courtship Brava had practically be surrounded by her female family member’s.
Somehow Rory doubted she was being taken to meet Don Corleone for simple pleasantries. Oh dear.
Perhaps it wasn’t too late to make a break for it. Perhaps Aurora would of if her Nona’s words didn’t ring loudly in her ear.
“Una brava ragazza siciliana confida nelle conoscenze del suo anziano e confida che sappiano cosa è meglio per lei.” A good Sicilian girl trust in her elder’s knowledge and trust that they know what’s best for her.
Surly her Nonno was wise enough to know what was best for her. Her entire life has been dictated, he had made every decision for her and never led her astray or at-least Rory didn’t think so. Then again her Nonno had always kept her in a tight leash.
It what was best for her, that’s what her Nonno always told her.
Grasping her hand in his tight grip Enzo gestured for his nipotina to get in the car.
Doing as she was told, Aurora slid into the cool leather seat’s and began buckling herself up.
Her grandmother got into the drivers seat and it wasn’t long before they were on the road.
It's quiet in the car.
No words, no music. Silence seemed right. Rory rolled down her windows and leaned her head against the door frame, listening to the wind rush by and smelling the pine trees.
Some time passes of just silent driving, the Corleone’s lived in Long Island whereas Aurora and her family lived in New York.
Still Aurora let her eyes close and enjoy the warm breeze that seems to caress her skin.
You didn’t always have beautiful days like these, so when you did it was best to make them last.
Just as Aurora was about to drop of to sleep the car stopped. Opening her eyes Rory was greeted with big cement walls and a multitude of car’s and gentlemen standing around.
They had arrived.
Leaning back into the car Rory allows her self a moment to gather her thoughts.
Hearing her Nonno’s door opening Aurora took that as her cue.
Rory tried not to notice the multitude of eyes that seems to stare her down curtsy of the multiple gentlemen milling around.
Taking his granddaughter’s hand Nonno lead Rory through the entrance to the property, and finally Rory was as able to see the infamous Corleone residence.
The English Tudor mansion did not disappoint.
As both walked towards the front doors waiting to greet them was the Dons own consigliere Tom Hagen.
“benvenuto”
Trying to remain an inconspicuous as possible Aurora let her Nonno greet the consigliere with good cheer.
"Buongiorno!” The men clasped had with smiles towards each-other.
Aurora was happy to stay of out sight but apparently that wouldn’t happen, as if he had heard her thought’s both eyes turned to her.
Grasping her Nonno’s outstretched hand Rory allowed herself to be pulled to her Grandfather’s side.
“May I present my beautiful nipotina Aurora Mancini, Aurora this is Tom Hagen.”
Remembering her manner's Rory held eye contact and gently shook consigliere Tom’s hand.
“Buongiorno signora Aurora”
“Buongiorno signore.” She didn’t have the Sicilian accent that the rest of her family possessed but she was still knowledgeable in her family’s mother tongue.
Once Tom released her hand he gestured towards the house.
“Follow me and I shall inform the Don of your arrival.”
Obediently Aurora follower her Nonno and Tom into the house trying not to offend anyone by looking at someone or something for too long everything here was so ostentatious and dazzling, it was the type of home Rory could only ever dream of owning. In the distance she would hear chatter coming from down the hall. Obviously women, most likely the dons family member’s though she would have the chance to think further on it considering they were being led in another direction.
Finally they stopped at a closed door.
Holding a hand out Tom stopped the duo.
“Please wait here, I shall alert the dom and then when he’s ready I shall come and get you.”
With those last words Tom swiftly opened the door leaving Aurora and Enzo alone.
Rory used the time to straighten out her dress, fix the few last strands of hair that fell out and simply just prepare herself for meeting one of New York’s most infamous men.
Enzo on the other hand had trying to take deep breath’s and looking at his granddaughter. Today had it be perfect, this meeting had to go well. The future of his business depended on it and not just his future but Aurora’s too. His wife had chosen a wonderful dress and dolled his Granddaughter up very nicely, she was a beauty.
Finally after what felt like an eternity but couldn’t of been longer than a few minutes the door once again opened but this time Tom was holding the door open inviting the pair to walk into the office.
This was it.
With small and dainty steps Rory walked into the office.
First thing she noticed and the amount of people that were currently in the office. Rory had expected perhaps the Dom and Tom but accompanying them were another two gentlemen.
One she recognised immediately.
Santino.
The other man was his brother Fredo, she had seen him around town several times.
Still Rory only looked at them for a Moment after which her eyes went to Don Vito.
Just looking at his made Rory feel intimidated, the way he held himself with such confidence and ease, despite his ageing fine Vito was still an attractive man. It’s clear to see where ti so called Corleone looks came from.
“Signor Mancini how wonderful to see you this fine morning and I take this to be your beautiful nipotina.” Don Vito’s voice had a husky whisper to it.
Enzo desperate for the is meeting to go well eagerly brought his nipotina forward.
“This is Aurora Mancini.”
A small smile crossed Don Vito’s face and with his hand he beckoned Rory forward.
“Come closer my child.”
Gathering her nerve and trying to look more confident than she felt, Rory hesitantly stepped forward.
Reaching a out to grow the outstretched hand, Rory placed a gentle kiss in the Corleone encrusted family ring.
“Don Vito.”
“A gracious greeting my child, look up and let my see your face cara.”
Following instructions Rory gently moved up to make eye contact with Vito.
Rory didn’t move or even blink, she only held still as the Don observed her from head to toe. His hand gently held her chin.
Bated breath could be heard throughout the office, everyone was waiting for the dom’s opinion.
Enzo prayed that Vito liked what he saw.
After a very long moment willed with suspense, finally Don Vito brought his hand back down and walked back to his chair while Aurora went back to her Nonno who instantly gripped her arm.
“Just as beautiful as you boasted Signor Mancini, you should be proud to have such a beautiful nipotina, and a fine woman to became a member of our family.”
And just like that all of Aurora’s suspicions had been confirmed, however she was wise enough to know not to say anything.
But that just blasted the question, who?
Which Corleone son would she call to be her husband.
Well there were three to choose from.
Perhaps it would be the youngest Michael, she had never met him but apparently rumours said he was a nice man, currently he was away.
It might be fredo, fredo wasn’t exactly someone to be remembered in the family, sure he was the second eldest, however rumour has it he was just too soft and gentle to really be of any threat.
Last of all there was Santio, he was the eldest son of Don Vito and the one of is apparently going to become Don once Don Vito head into retirement, although he was a good leader and a charismatic gentleman his violent temper and quick to anger personality was very concerning.
Finally Don Vito again.
“With the union of your nipotina to my eldest Santino we shall unite our families, naturally we shall have a period of courtship to allow our young one’s to be properly acquainted with eachother, under supervision.”
So it was Santino Corleone who she was chosen to marry, Rory knew she would be more out of by this whole situation but she would be outing if she didn’t admit that there as a certain charm she experienced at the thought of being the wife to the handsome and charming Santino Corleone.
Unable to help herself Rory’s eyes sort out her future husband, he was sat on a chair nursing a glass of whiskey with a cheeky smile and a mischievous glint in his eye’s.
His enthusiasm seems to be contagious and Rory couldn’t help but give him a small smile.
It was once again Vito that broke there concentration.
“Sonny, why don’t you take carissima Aurora for a leisurely walk, I’ll have some bodyguards accompany you two, then you will accompany us for lunch, Enzo I shall have one of my men carpool her back to yours later this afternoon.”
With a beaming smile Enzo gave a single nod.
“Grazie Don Corleone I am deeply honoured by your care.”
The meeting was officially over and everyone was leaving the office Aurora watched as her grandfather was taken back towards the entrance, Rory on the other hand was left unsure on what to do with herself.
That was until a warm hand was placed on her back and a familiar intense voice spoke form her left.
“Follow me, Aurora. I know a wonderful walking trail that we could go down.” Wordlessly Rory followed her soon to be husband.
Thankfully the it was a warm day, otherwise this would of been a very uncomfortable walk.
Not that Rory wasn’t uncomfortable, she was.
So many questions were running around in her head, and it was impossible to focus on just one.
She and santonio walked in silence for a good while until Santino finally spoke.
“I’m sure you have many questions.”
“A few.” Aurora let out a tiny laugh.
Santino let out a laugh.
“Well I’ll answer what I can.” The gesture sonny made to Rory to go ahead.
“Well I guess my first question would have to be why me? Don’t mistake I’m flattered but surly there are other women that would be better suited, good full-blooded Sicilian’s, you do know of my heritage right?”
Oh goodness what of her grandfather had left the circumstances of her parents out of the equation.
Before she could fret herself into a panic santinos warm hand was once again on her lower back, this heat radiating from his touch seemed to burn through her dress making tingles run up her spine.
“Yes we know of your heritage, my father had been awear of it since the moment you were born.”
Confusion was pasted across Rory’s face, her head suddenly filled with even more questions.
Just how long had the Corleone’s known about her.
Santino continued on.
“My father helped him out back in the day and he’s always been interested in you.”
Desperate to find out more Aurora pushed on.
“What do you mean? How do my grandfather and your father know eachother?” She needed to know.
However the stern look Santino shot Rory was enough to once again settle her down.
“I won’t Discuss business with you Aurora, so please refrain from asking any further questions on the business between our family’s.”
“I’m sorry.” Aurora was knowledgable enough to know her position.
If surprised of her quick willingness to let the topic slide santino didn’t let it show.
“But to answer your earlier question yes I know that your father was an American, however I don’t see that as an issue. You’ve been raised in a Sicilian household, you know our values and traditions, besides Tom isn’t Italian and he’s family.”
Happy to get conversation back on a lighter note Rory continued to find out more about her future husband.
“So santino-“
Santino quickly cut in.
“Call me Sonny.”
Warmth flooded Aurora, it was a foreign feeling, yet it felt nice.
“Very well, If you call me Rory.”
“Rory?” Sonny mused while trading amused glances with this future wife.
UnAble to help herself Rory let out a little laugh.
“Yes, I know it sounds like a Boy’s name but it’s easier and quicker than saying my full name, plus I think it’s unique.”
The laugh the Sonny let out was one from the stomach.
“Whatever you say doll face.”
Whatever tension was between them earlier had seemed to evaporate. Both were now relaxed and simply happy to be in each other’s company.
Feeling more confident Rory eagerly moved forward so she was a few paces in front of Sonny before turning so she could face him head while walking backwards.
“So Sonny since you’ve already mocked my name, tell me something about yourself.”
The mischievous grin on his face was that of pure amusement and mirth, the usual frown line’s on his face had evaporated, one would find it hard to believe that he was only 28 years of age.
“May I enquire to what you want to know, I’m an open book, more of less.”
Rory pursed her lips in a comical way while placing a finger on her chin and playfully acting like she was in deep thought, her actions got her a laugh.
“What’s your favourite dish and why?”
“Sfogliatelle hands down, my Madre would always have a dozen or so waiting for me and my siblings when we got home from school.” Despite his good physique Sonny enjoyed the delicate pastry.
Aurora had been so entrapped with the conversation she hadn’t even noticed the shadows that were following her and Sonny.
Just as Vito had promised they were being chaperoned by several bodyguards, still Rory paid them no mind, round the clock security was something she was going to have to get used to.
“What about you Rory? What’s your favourite dish?”
Sonny moved around Rory Till it was him in front staring back at her while walking backwards.
“Arancini.”
As a child she was always eating those breaded and deep-fried ball’s of creamy risotto rice.
Both had been so deep in conversation that neither had noticed they had done a full 360 and were almost back at the house.
Just in time too.
The inviting smell of lunch reached the noses of both Sonny and Rory.
“Looks like it’s lunch time, we best take our seats.”
In a surprise move Sonny grabbed Rory’s hand and pulled her towards the dining room.
Blushing to her roots Aurora tried not to trip over herself.
Still both made it to the dining room in time and were greeted by Vito.
“At least we were wondering if you would make it back in time for lunch, family may I present Aurora Mancini.”
Rory offers everyone a polite smile and was greeted to enthusiastic welcomes from everyone.
To her relief she was approached by Carmella.
“Benvenuta Aurora! Please take a seat between myself and my daughter Connie.”
Guided by Carmella’s gentle hands, Rory was sat down next to a beautiful young woman who couldn’t of been much older than her, probably the same age.
Connie gave her future sister in-law a megawatt smile.
“It’s so great to meet you! I hope your hungry.”
“I’m starving.”
“Perfetta!” Carmella voiced before she and began scooping out the Caponata and Farsu magru onto plates and passing them around.
Eager to help her future mother in law, Rory offered up her services.
“Would you like any help signora Carmella?”
Carmella merely brushed the woman off and continued to plate up the dishes herself.
Okay looks like winning over Carmella is going to be harder than I thought.
Connie leaned over to Rory.
“Don’t worry about it, mama’s always been picky about when it come’s so the food and who serves it, I wouldn’t try to come between her and her kitchen.”
Rory understood that, Italian mothers weren’t easy to impress and didn’t share their secret’s easily.
Still after saying grace, Rory eagerly dug into her lunch.
Mmmm, it was delicious.
The rest of lunch would be spent making conversation with both Connie and Theresa who were interested in learning about her and her hobbies, while also making plans to go shopping together, Carmella simply watched over them chiming in occasionally.
In Rory’s opinion it was a great first impression. If she was going to marry at least she knew she would be part of a family that for all intense and purposes seemed to value each-other greatly.
After lunch Rory said her goodbyes and Just as was promised, got into the waiting car.
The drive back home was quite, her driver didn’t speak and she didn’t try to make conversation, her mind was just too clouded.
Still she thanked the nameless driver when she got out of the car before walking up the steps of her building and knocking on the door.
The door opened and her Nonno ushered her inside.
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congratzams · 1 year
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– ✧ 𝖈𝖍𝖔𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖌𝖆𝖓𝖆𝖈𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖆𝖐𝖊: the godfather
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𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖓𝖞 𝖈𝖔𝖗𝖑𝖊𝖔𝖓𝖊
𝖋𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖘𝖎𝖊𝖗 ❪ no warnings ❫ ∟ things sonny corleone would say
𝖑𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓 𝖕𝖎𝖊 ❪ smut ❫ ∟ nsfw alphabet ∟ sonny fucking you dumb
𝖈𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖊𝖘 ❪ drabbles etc ❫ ∟ undercover
𝖒𝖎𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖊𝖑 𝖈𝖔𝖗𝖑𝖊𝖔𝖓𝖊
𝖋𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖘𝖎𝖊𝖗 ❪ no warnings ❫ ∟ singing to michael after a rough day ∟ things michael corleone would say ∟ soulmate!au: reading each other’s minds ∟ meeting the corleone family
𝖑𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓 𝖕𝖎𝖊 ❪ smut ❫ ∟ feeling insecure about your body ∟ makeup sex ∟ breeding kink
𝖈𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖊𝖘 ❪ drabbles etc ❫ ∟ tba.
𝖙𝖔𝖒 𝖍𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖓
𝖋𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖘𝖎𝖊𝖗 ❪ no warnings ❫ ∟ secretly dating tom and your brother sonny finding out ∟ things tom hagen would say
𝖑𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓 𝖕𝖎𝖊 ❪ smut ❫ ∟ blowjob (drabble)
𝖈𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖊𝖘 ❪ drabbles etc ❫ ∟ tba.
𝖋𝖗𝖊𝖉𝖔 𝖈𝖔𝖗𝖑𝖊𝖔𝖓𝖊
𝖋𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖘𝖎𝖊𝖗 ❪ no warnings ❫ ∟ tba.
𝖑𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓 𝖕𝖎𝖊 ❪ smut ❫ ∟ mean big brother fredo
𝖈𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖊𝖘 ❪ drabbles etc ❫ ∟ tba.
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hoffmans-hoffman · 2 years
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I'm a lazy bitch, and putting some fics on hold so 🐝
What I'll be doing is having my Asks open for x Readers (Mostly gender neutral and Male...I just feel like I don't write women goon)
List of characters I write for
Sonny Corleone
Tom Hagen
Michael Corleone
Mo Green
Enzo the Baker (He is my sweet baby boy)
+ whatever one you want, those are just the people I'm good at
What I write, I can do sweet fluff, I can do injuries, however I don't do requested smut
But let me know what I can do, just send an ask also some of the characters maybe more like the book than the movie but try a good mix of both
- Nov 🐝
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buzzbuzz-bitch · 2 years
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I fucking love these men so much. The Women of the gangs and mafia are just *chef kiss*
Tom Hagen: Tom would treat you as a queen and his equal ya know since it’s like the 40s. He would ask for your own opinion in certain affairs that wouldn’t get you in trouble. Tom would give you everything you desire and would be so supportive of your hobbies. Tom would prefer you to not work but he understands that you may not want to just sit at home. Just ugh 10/10 best hubby.
Sonny Corleone: Sonny would treat amazingly and would spoil you. Your eyes gaze at something for a sec and it’s in your room with a note from him. The two setbacks to this man is his temper and loyalty. He would blow up a lot when the family business goes wrong and may or may not cheat. If Sonny ever blew up at you he would go all out for his apology. You want a holiday to Paris. It is booked. He would kinda look like a kicked puppy if he ever did something wrong. I would give him a solid 7.5/10 would date.
Arthur Shelby: Woo this man would be a simp just for you. You want something made in the garden. Done. Housework needs done. Check. You just want cuddles. Be prepared for this huge man flying at you. His only setbacks would be his temper but he would hardly take it out on you and his constant disappearance due to Tommy wanting him somewhere but he would let you know when he’s gone. I would give him a 10/10 amazing dad and husband just for you ;) ( I love him so much)
Luca Changretta: He would spoil you, giving gifts is his love language. The cutest nicknames fit just for you(I can’t think of any of the top of my head). Luca’s mum and you would be very close and I can see his mum inviting you to teach you how to cook meals her way so Luca loves your cooking (not that he doesn’t anyway). There is so much I can say but I would give him a 9/10 I love him.
This is my very first time writing head-canons for anyone so it’s probably kinda messy but 🤷🏽‍♀️. Hope ya enjoy these leave your own head canons if you want.
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ohoh-inmortal · 2 years
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Hi could you write a Tom Hagen x fem reader please? The reader is Don Corleone’s daughter or someone important to the family ? Thank you 🥰
Hi there 😊 this is the first chapter of a fiction that has been sitting in my drafts for months since I rewatched The Godfather, but I never thought someone would be interested in a Tom Hagen x reader so I never posted it. I hope you enjoy it!
A la piu bella
Pairing: Tom Hagen x Reader
Summary: Coming back to the Corleone family after so many years brings back a lot of memories, not only for you.
Warnings: none for this chapter.
The distant sound of tarantellas and the cheering from all the people felt like home.
What excited you the most was the anticipation of what would be Connie's face when she saw you: after 10 years away and many letters exchanged, you'll finally be able to hug your childhood best friend. It seemed like it was only yesterday when you would get together to fancy singers and actors, or go on holidays and sneak up to watch boys.
The Corleone house brought back a lot of memories of your childhood, playing with the two youngest siblings of the family while your fathers took care of their business. Your father was loyal to them; so loyal he took his whole family to a different country after things had spiced up between the families.
Resentment filled your innocent heart at the time, but you had since become a woman who enjoyed her newfound home in Buenos Aires.
"Connie, my darling, look at you!" your father raised both hands in excitement, looking at the bride.
Behind him, you seemed to be a child again; trying not to chuckle under your big hat, waiting for the bride to get close enough to surprise her.
"Mario!" Connie hugged him tightly "I'm so glad you could make it. May I ask, who is this?" she looked behind him.
As soon as you took off your hat to show yourself, Connie let out a squeal so loud it could break glass. Both embraced each other tightly for a long minute.
"I can't believe you're here" Connie whispered into your ear.
"I wouldn't have missed it for anything in the world," you smiled.
The family -and therefore, the business- had grown since you last had been there. Your father had soon left her alone to catch up with old bats while Connie had to greet more guests, so you felt like an outlander.
Though the sea of new faces you couldn't name, a familiar one came across with a charming smile. Mike, who you once only thought of as your best friend's annoying little brother, was now a full man and soldier, even with a beautiful woman by his side.
"Mike!" you cheered and waved your hand. He smiled in response and quickly walked over you with the blondie following his side.
"Nina, is that you?" he frowned with his mouth open in surprise.
After introducing both, he began explaining how you were acquainted to his family -as he did it with everyone his girlfriend, Kay looked at-
"You know, when Connie first started school kids were mean to her" he gazed at his sister "but before we could do anything about it, a girl from her class had already humiliated the boys' wits" he raised his glass from the table the three of them were seated.
"Really?" the woman, Kay, looked between the two.
Before she could answer with modesty, her father joined them with a loud and long greet to Mike.
───※ ·❆· ※───
Sitting on his chair, Vito stared outside the window of his office. With this quantity of guests, it was expected that a lot of them would want to ask favors. Two men had already been there, accepting that they would have to do the same when the family asked; the baker and the mortician.
"Mario Scaglione is here" The godfather announced with a hint of surprise, staring at the man outside.
"And with a younger wife, it seems" Tom approached the window to take a look "I'm sure he'll request to see you later. After all, he has been away for years"
"No," his father raised a finger "I request to see him, but first Michael"
Tom just nodded, already walking out of the office to find his brother. Through the hundreds of voices and noise, he heard a laugh so melodic yet so genuine he thought he was about to face nothing below a movie star.
Approaching Michael he realized its owner was no one but the woman accompanying Mario Scaglione, and he took a deep breath before walking to them. He wasn't going to repeat the Luca Brasi incident.
"I'm sorry to interfere" he flashed his best polite smile.
"Oh, Tom! Come 'ere" Michael greeted his older brother.
"Mr. Scaglione" Tom shaked his hand "Ladies"
He stared at her for a split of a second and she could feel the familiarity in his blue eyes. It was enough for her face to turn red, but she could blame the summer sun. She turned her stare to Kay and smiled sheepishly.
"The old man wants to see you" he patted Mike's shoulder "And then you, Mr. Scaglione"
"You don't mind staying with Nina for a while, don't you?" Mike took Kay's cheek in his hand.
"Not at all," she smiled softly.
"I'm sure we'll get along soon" you winked.
Raising his eyebrows, he quickly turned around to be followed by both men. Turns out Scaglione hadn't got himself a sweet cherry after his wife's passing, it was none other than his youngest daughter.
A few memories of you running around the house playing with his youngest siblings, or later reading women's magazines in Connie's room came back to his mind. You were a couple years younger, and him being a teenage boy didn't look at you twice.
As his tall figure left your eyes followed his every step, until a small giggle snapped you out of her thoughts.
"Oh, I'm so sorry" Kay apologized shyly "I just-"
"There's no need to" you smiled warmly "He was my first crush, I hadn't seen him since I was a kid, that's all"
It was the truth: every time Connie would invite you to play at her place was the perfect excuse to take a few glances over the Irish boy.
When you finally reached your pre-teens, it was hard to look away from him. On a specific holiday both families spent together, you recalled how you would look at him with doe eyes while asking him to explain the dumbest things.
You shook your head at the cringey memory, it was the last summer you had spent with them. Tom, even as a young man, was stern as he seemed to still be: not a single smile had crept his face when you tried to approach him back then, and in part, you were grateful for it. You were too young, to immature.
"Connie, they will hear us!" you whisper-yelled.
"Not if you stop talking!"
Both were sneaking behind Tom and Sonny's bedroom door, waiting expectantly to hear the male-gaze they had on women.
"She was stunning! You should've seen her, knockers the size of two oranges, and her stare said 'kiss me and take all my clothes'!" Sonny's excited voice said.
"Yeah, whatever you say" Tom retorted. He was as well composed as now.
None of you could help but chuckle at the story, and suddenly the door busted open.
"Get out of here, you bratty kids!" Sonny shouted.
You turned around to run chuckling, and for the first time, you saw the blond boy crack a half-smile too.
A/N: I've added a bit of the books-lore in here. There, Tom fooled around with Luca Brasi's girlfriend (Not knowing she was) resulting in Luca almost killing him.
This isn't beta-read and I wrote it on my phone so there might be some mistakes. Also, I know is a reader insert but I decided to give it a name and surname because is easier for me to write it that way
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September Writing Challenge
I’ve been wanting to write more but then always end up being stuck by not feeling like something is good enough/not having inspiration/just being lazy.
So I’ve decided to force myself to write at least some itty-bitty something everyday, and since I saw a lot of prompt lists I decided to make my own for inspo :)
✉️ request // 💃 nsfw 
Now for the prompts:
1. Blood - Tommy Shelby  2. Rain - Sonny Corleone 3. Flowers - Tommy Shelby ✉️ 4. Gardens - Fredo Corleone ✉️ 5. Dancing - Luca Changretta ✉️ 6. Bedtime stories - John Shelby ✉️ 7. Gunpowder - Tommy Shelby 💃 8. Tea - Arthur Shelby 9. Picnic - Michael Corleone 10. Nightmares - Luca Changretta ✉️ 10. //bonus// Nightmares - Luca Changretta ✉️ 11. Horses - Tommy Shelby 12. Cold - Luca Changretta ✉️ 13. Sunshine - Tommy Shelby 14. Shooting stars - Alfie Solomons  15. Love - Tommy Shelby/Arthur Shelby/John Shelby/Luca Changretta
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lostloveletters · 4 months
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Reader-insert fics for The Godfather. You can also find these fics on my AO3.
I do not take fic requests.
Do not interact if you’re under 18, a terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.
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MICHAEL
Give Me Shelter, The Night Is Dark - Michael Corleone x Reader (Vampire AU, smut, female reader)
SONNY
One of Those Nights - Sonny Corleone x Reader (Smut, female reader)
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melis-writes · 9 months
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"Mafia Wife" Fanfic Tagslist ❤️‍🔥
Please ONLY interact with this post (like, reblog or reply to this) if you’d like to be added to the tagslist of my newest, upcoming Sonny Corleone x Reader smut fic, "Mafia Wife"! 💓
“The underboss’s wife”; that’s who you are, and the whispers of enemies, family and colleagues alike know it too. You’re no stranger to the underworld of crime surrounding you including the one run by the Corleone family’s underboss; Santino Corleone. The streets run red with blood and brutality under Santino’s influence but it’s Santino who feels hit by the thunderbolt at the very sight of you—pushing away his womanizing and notorious unfaithfulness. You unexpectedly find yourself in a position of power balancing your marriage with the fate of the Corleone’s family’s future whether it be through Santino’s infamous brutality or the love he finds amidst the man he claims to be.
The first chapter will be coming soon! Stay tuned!! 🤞🏻💖
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waltzchristophh · 2 years
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hello!! can i request a small drabble for soft!sonny corleone? i really love him i do
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"where's my favorite girl?"
you smiled sweetly at the door as sonny pinched your soft cheek, not bothering to take off his coat yet.
his big rough hands found your nape and waist, firmly pulling you into his loving embrace. he sighed, unwinding into your sweet warmth. it was all he longed for on working days like this.
he playfully swayed with you in his arms, groaning and breathing you in slowly. you melted into the steady rhythm of the rise and fall of his burly chest. "you know how much i love you, baby?"
"no, tell me," you snickered.
"how bout i show you?"
sonny slid his hands to the base of your thighs, raising your body up to eye level. you shook your head smiling as he maintained a straight face, knowing how nervous it made you. "stop that!" his stoic exterior cracked the second you giggled, and he smiled back softly. you lightly kissed the adorable crinkle in his nose.
he held you like a baby, pumping his legs up and down to force a laugh out of you as you bounced. he planted kisses onto every free space on your face with each step into the kitchen. "i'ma make you the best fuckin' carbonara you had in ya life."
he set you down on the oak island, removing his work clothes as you undid his tie. "you're such a sweet--" he sucked on your lower lip with a passionate intensity, "---sweet woman. the light of my fuckin' life."
sonny sliced and fed you giant georgia peaches while you waited. they were the organic kind too; the ones you bought on your weekly grocery run to the bodega.
you shared deep, pleasant conversation as he cooked. while nobody questioned your relationship dynamic, the rest of the family did find it odd. sonny didn't care, and he never expected anything from you but your wholesome presence.
dinner was nothing short of mind blowing, per usual. that sicilian knew how to fucking cook. "my compliments to the chef."
"the chef thanks you, angelface."
///
after dinner you indulged in aged wine and plump grapes by the balcony. again, he handfed you the grapes like a street kitten.
"i've been feeding myself for 26 years sonny."
"shh, i know baby, just let me take care'a ya."
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a-boca-do-inferno · 1 year
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amor, amor, negócios à parte (vincent mancini x reader)
summary: Vincent welcomes a new member of the mafia without knowing. 
warnings: angst, swearing, a little fluff but not rly sry
words: 4.9k
notes: no one will read this lol byee
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The night they met is still clear as day in her memories.  
Her cautious eyes studied the place with a bit of curiosity and uneasiness, but she pretended to be calm on the outside, waltzing with feet as light as a feather. Mary had asked her to be there for her birthday and she was the only friend (y/n) managed to make in that short time in the city. She couldn’t just turn her down, no matter how much she didn’t like to mix business with her personal life. Her relationship with the Corleone family was merely professional, after all, and she would like to keep it that way. She knew how dangerous they could be.  
Still, (y/n) entered the room full of fancy people with her chin up, and her hair bounced along with her movements as she walked past Mancini to sit at the corner table. Through her peripheric view, she could see he stayed somewhat distant from everyone else, cautiously scanning the many faces surrounding them. Soon, however, he smirked at her from afar, with the annoying confidence of a man who’s clearly had way too many women by making that simple move. She had to hold herself back from rolling her eyes, observing him come at her direction.   
His steps were slow and sure as he took a seat across from her. Uninvited, might she add. “Hey there, sweetheart, you like what you see?”. She glances at him briefly, not impressed in the slightest, although he was quite handsome. But then again: no mixing up business with pleasure. Vincent raises a brow, causing her to consider it’s probably not often he sees that reaction to his goofy line, and reclines in his chair. “What, princess? Cat got your tongue?”  
(y/n) furrows her brows, maintaining her scowl, “I’m sorry, who are you again?”  
He gets up and extends his hand, showing off a toothy grin. “My name is Vincent Mancini, and the pleasure is all mine.” His voice is a bit louder than the necessary, and his thick new-yorker accent stands out to her. Mancini leans in and whispers seductively, “now, how about you tell me yours?”  
“(y/n)”, she moves away from him gently, fake smiling. “Vincent Mancini, as in the son of Sonny?”, she blinks once, curious. “As in, the Corleone family?”  
Vincent pulls out the chair next to her, sitting back down. “That’s me. You seem surprised.” He scoffs, grabbing a drink as someone walked by with a tray. “What is it? You wouldn’t think that someone like me would take time out of their busy schedule to talk with a beautiful woman like you?”  
(y/n) shakes her head jocosely. “I imagined you were...”, she eyes him up and down. “Taller.” He’s amused by this and puts a hand under her chin, pulling her toward him, and she can’t contain a small laugh, “self-esteem is everything, huh?”. She stares at his dark eyes for a second, letting her smile fade lightly. “But I know your reputation, Vincenzo. You got quite the record on you.”  
He snorts, “and let’s say I find you interesting, what would your record be?”  
“You got me there, lover boy. I’m a ghost, it’s my charm.” (y/n) looks around the place and beams shortly at Mary. “That’s your cousin, right? I heard you two have a bit of history”, she raises her brow and sips her drink. “Or is it just gossip?”  
He is shocked by the comment for a second, but his expression soon turns smug. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear, doll. I’m not the guy who goes for his cousins, you know?”  
(y/n) nods, finding his reaction more than telling. “I wouldn’t know. I’m a newcomer, ya know?”, she stares down at her empty glass.   
Vincent reaches forward and holds her chin up once again, gazing at her deeply. “Newcomer or not, you’re still gorgeous. So, what’s someone like you doing in a place like this? The Corleone family don’t exactly welcome strangers with open arms.”  
“Your uncle took a liking to me, I guess”, she snickers, watching Michael in the distance while he talks to some priest. “And I can be resourceful, let’s just put it that way", she shrugs, softly pulling his hand away from her face.  
“How so?”, his eyes narrow, but he doesn’t seem hostile, merely lurking.  
She can’t help but find his curiosity cute. “Wouldn’t you like to know, little Santino?”  
(y/n) got up without another word and went to greet Mary, leaving Mancini alone. She makes up some excuse and wishes her a happy birthday, hugging her tight. The girl could feel Vincent’s stare on her like two hot stones burning her skin, but she managed to keep cool. Once she moved away from Mary, he waved her over as soon as their eyes met again, signalling for her to come back to their table. Instead, she simply pats his shoulder with a tiny sneer and keeps walking past him.   
His scoff could be heard from the door, “alright.”  
The next time she bumped into him, Vincent was visiting Michael. He found her sitting in his office, talking to his uncle closely. She couldn’t help but notice he still had that leather jacket on, as if it was some kind of signature, and her lips curved up almost involuntarily. He was annoying, sure, yet something inside of her appeared to light up whenever she saw him. Perhaps it was morbid curiosity, or but a physical attraction she couldn’t deny — the man was a sight, for all his faults... She didn’t know. And when (y/n) spotted his surprise to meet her there, that same something seeped through her body like an electrical current, causing her to turn her attention back to the Godfather in an instant. 
Mancini strolls into the room casually as usual, putting his hands in his pockets with an amused demeanour. “Uncle Mike, so it’s you who’s been stealing my women?”. Her eyes roll back at this, and he gives her a wink, “what’d he promise you, sweetheart? A cut from the family business? You better have gotten more than that.”  
“I see you already met her charms. She is something, isn’t she?”, Michael hums, standing up with her to hug the girl aside, and she looks bashful. He continues, taking a more serious approach, “Vincent, I need you to take her to that meeting with the Tattaglias. Can you do that?”  
Vincent cackles, trying to hide his astonishment at the request, and nods. “Sure, but just how many of your meetings do you need to take a woman to?”. He then mocks, eyeing her up and down and staring back at his uncle, “do you like them watching or something?”  
Michael glances at (y/n) for her response and she looks daggers at Mancini, seeming more than a tad bothered by the comment. “You talking from experience, lover boy?”, she crosses her arms, and through the corner of her eye she can see the Godfather’s smirk. 
Vincent’s caught off-guard for a second, but he quickly recovers and shrugs. “Okay, I set myself up for that one.” He stops laughing, “this meeting you speak of, it’s urgent?”  
“Quite urgent. I need to know what that slick bastard wants from my new selling points”, Michael squeezes (y/n) affectionately. “You take care, darling, okay? Vincent will arrange everything you need. Just sit there and do your thing. We’ll be waiting for you at dinner.”  
She grunted in agreement and the old man stepped out of the office, leaving her alone with his nephew. Unfortunately. (y/n) cleared her throat and was ready to say her goodbyes to Mancini. However, when Michael was completely out of sight, he walked over to her and grabbed her hand, holding a sterner expression than before. Despite her surprise at his sudden change of mood, she made sure not to show it to him, keeping her unsmiling composure.  
“You got some time, beautiful? There’s something I want to discuss with you”, his voice is playful, yet there is an edge to his demeanour she can’t ignore.  
The girl takes her hand off his swiftly, looking sceptical. “You got five minutes.”   
He frowns at her, with some menace to his dark orbs. “Okay, so I have this theory you’re not actually the good girl you’re making yourself out to be. But I want to be sure I’m right.” He adds a bit lower, clenching his jaw, “how do I know you won’t betray us to the Tattaglias, eh?”  
(y/n) bites her lip, containing a laugh. “You think I need to prove myself to you? That’s cute”, she leans on the edge of the table, crossing her arms to him in challenge. “Michael trusted me with this for reasons which are beyond me, but he is the Don and you still owe him some respect, him and his decisions”, her words are spiteful, though her tone stays light. “That being said, it seems to me that your behaviour might suggest betrayal more than mine.”  
He scowls entirely now, his lips curving down at once. “This is more than just a business, it’s a family, and we care for each other like brothers and sisters. That means loyalty is not a choice, it’s an obligation everyone has to uphold”, Vincent pauses, holding back on his intensity for a moment, although his statement is still dense. “I hope you understand exactly what I’m saying here.”  
“Is this a threat?”, she glowers at him, lifting her chin defiantly. “Or is it a joke? The bastard son talking about family loyalty”, (y/n) shakes her head. “That’s fucking rich.”  
Vincent balls his fists. “You better watch what you’re saying.” He grits his teeth, breathing heavily, “I might be the bastard son, but I’m also the future of this family, which means you need to show me some respect.”  
The girl chuckles again, making his nostrils expand even more in fury. “Someone’s got a temper, huh? That doesn’t sound like Don behaviour to me, but...”, she clicks her tongue, standing up straight and stretching her neck slightly. “To each, their own.”  
Mancini tries to control his anger, vocalizing in a softer manner, “I’ll only give you one more warning, baby, watch your tongue.” He takes a step toward her and grips at her jawbone, coming very close to her face, “do you understand?”  
(y/n) harshly pulls away from his touch. “Are you taking me to that meeting now or what?”  
His gives her a deadly glance. He’s clearly restraining himself from snapping and she finds it a little hilarious. “You’re lucky you’re a very attractive woman, otherwise you’d already be at the bottom of a river.” He takes her arm tightly and drags her outside, “let’s go.”   
(y/n) giggled, letting herself be dragged out this one time. As they walked out the house, some curious looks followed their movements, such as his uncle Tom’s, and she only shrugged in response. Vincent seemed too furious to even notice them staring and she held back a laugh. They reached the garden eventually, and the girl lit a cigarette as they approached his car. His hand finally let go of her wrist and he watched her as she took a drag, with a hint of disapproval in his eyes.   
She opens the passenger’s door and raises a brow. “What?”  
Mancini shakes his head a bit, leaning his arms on the car roof. From this angle, his dark hair is illuminated by the setting sun behind him, and the view is annoyingly beautiful. “Don’t you care about your health?”, comes the question, and it’s strangely tender to her ears. Just when she thinks the boy couldn’t surprise her anymore. 
(y/n) rolls her eyes in disbelief, blowing out the smoke in his face and grinning. “Let’s go, Vincenzo”, she gets in the car, shutting the door with a thud and reclining in her seat.  
Vincent sighs quietly, taking the keys from his pocket and getting in too. He starts the vehicle, and they stay silent for a while, until he turns a corner and eyes her again. “So, who are the Tattaglias exactly? Is their business in any way related to ours?”  
“And you claim to be the “future of the family business”?”, she’s genuinely surprised, holding the smoke in her mouth for a second as she stares forward. “Yes. They are quite important to maintain power over the Bronx and surroundings. It’s kinda their turf, now.”  
“What type of business do they handle?”, he stares back at the road, stopping at a light. “I hope it ain’t drugs.”  
“Well, it’s drugs. Mostly, anyway. Why? Mr. No Smoking is against drug deals too?”, she mocks, taking another drag.  
He doesn’t engage in her playfulness, but remains tranquil. “Uncle Mike despises anyone involved with drugs. This kind of business leads to many murders, and the ones involved don’t care how many innocent lives are lost, as long as they get their money. So, excuse me when I think you’re being pretty naive if you wanna get involved with that kind of people.”  
“You should tell Michael about that, not me. Don’t shoot the messenger, my friend. I’m only going in because he asked me to. Maybe he has an angle, maybe he doesn’t. I’m just doing as I’m told”, she takes another long drag and blows the smoke out the window.  
Vincent lets out a deep breath, nodding and stepping on the accelerator again, “you’re right, I can’t judge you for something that’s completely out of your hands.” He is quiet for a moment, then asks, “so, this meeting is for some kind of agreement? Because I’ll tell ya, there ain’t no talking to these drug guys. They’re scum.”  
“You’ll see”, the girl throws her cigarette away when they stop in front of the Tattaglia mansion. It’s almost dark and the birds chirp away on the trees, saying their goodbyes for today. She adjusts her clothes and turns to Vincent with a smile. “Just one more thing.”  
“And what would that be?”, he stops the car and peeks outside, analysing the pompous house.  
“What I do is... I like to play pretend.” She fixes his collar, and his attentive eyes track her closely, almost in a trance. “From this point forward, you’ll be my right-hand man, so they can listen to what I have to say. I mean, I know you’re just a half Corleone, but still... Your father was respected with this bunch, and I need that credibility. What say you?”, she waits expectantly. 
His eyes go wide for a second, then he bursts out with laughter. “That’s crazy, you’re crazy”, he takes a moment to calm himself and sighs. “I’ll do it. If that’s what it takes, I’ll do it. Even though I think it’s completely ridiculous.”  
“You don’t like my methods, but you’ll sure love my results”, she winks at him and they both get out of the car. (y/n) extends her hand, “shall we, partner?”  
Vincent rolls his eyes and takes her by the arm, walking alongside her. “As you wish, partner”, he gives her another wink, before frowning lightly. “I hope you’re right and this ridiculous plan works. If not, you might end up paying for it with your life.”  
“Always the charmer”, she murmurs annoyed, fake smiling as they stop at the front gate.   
They are let into the mansion and waltz into the room where all the Tattaglia family members are sitting on a table, exuding confidence and naturality in their steps. Everyone stands up as they take in (y/n)’s presence; some with confused faces, some with pleased ones, and she beams politely to all of them.  
On the other hand, Vincent is looked at with suspicion, and she notices this fact immediately. It’s not the first time Michael asks her to deal with the Tattaglias, but she’s not used to working with other people, especially with someone as untameable as Mancini. A tingle of anxiety builds up in her chest and she tries to calm her nerves. (y/n) clears her throat quietly and does her best to stay in control of the situation, starting to walk towards the boss slowly.  
“Well, here we are.” Vincent’s gravelly voice suddenly pulls her out of her thoughts. He’s trying to appear unbothered by their broody faces directed at him and she has to hold down a deep sigh, chewing the inside of her cheek not to snap at him right there. That damn bastard. “So, what do the Tattaglias want to discuss?”, he glances around the room somewhat impatient, waiting for one of them to speak.  
The head of the family turns directly to (y/n), ignoring him completely. “Miss (y/n), we were told you’d come on behalf of the Godfather.” He kisses her hand charmingly, pulling out a chair for her to sit. “Please, make yourself comfortable. It’s always a pleasure doing business with such a tremendous beauty as yourself.”  
Vincent watches the scene from a little to the side, remaining silent and not showing his annoyance at being ignored. He takes a seat beside the girl, forcing a smile. “Let’s get to the point, shall we? You’re wasting this beautiful lady’s time”, he lays a hand on (y/n)’s leg discreetly, squeezing her thigh. “Tell me what you wanna discuss, and let’s get straight to the point.”  
(y/n)’s finally had enough and gives him a pointed look, as if to say, “shut up and let me handle this”, squeezing his leg back with some force. She dismisses his distasteful sigh and turns to the boss, nodding politely, “signore, I come here with a proposal from Michael Corleone himself. We have been running into a lot of trouble with your drug deals, and it’s starting to take its toll on the Don’s patience. We don’t do drugs. Period. But...”, she raises her finger, leaning into him. “We can make an exception. If you’re willing to cooperate, that is.”  
The boss listens to her with interest, seeming a bit taken in by her charm as she lets him in all the details thoroughly, explaining it all like a teacher talking to the class. Vincent has a combination of relief and admiration in his eyes witnessing her work, so he stays quiet for once and lets her do her thing. (y/n) can feel his stare as she finishes up her piece and a faint blush paints her cheekbones. When the boss turns to his associates to get their opinion, she lets out a breath she’d be holding ever since they started talking.   
The Tattaglias start whispering to each other, probably debating her offer, and Vinnie mutters to her ear, “do they seem inclined to accept?”  
(y/n) nods to him carefully, as the man in front of them finally comes to a conclusion. “I trust your judgement, miss (y/n). If you say it can work, I’m inclined to give it a shot”, he stands up and goes to hug her, shaking Vincent’s hand firmly afterwards. “Send me one of your guys tomorrow to arrange the details.”  
She kisses his cheek, making the man melt before everyone’s eyes. “Why, thank you, signore. Will sure do. Enjoy the rest of your evening, gentlemen”, she winks only for the boss to see before turning around.  
Vincent snorts at her witty attitude, while the other Tattaglias observe their boss’ face with a mix of surprise and jealousy. “That’s what I call convincing arguments.” He turns to the boss one last time. “You made the right choice, signore. This kind of business takes brains, you know?”. He grins again, but keeps his tone serious, “if you ever do anything to hurt her, you’ll have to answer to me personally.”   
(y/n) contained another frustrated sound from leaving her throat while she watched the scene, waiting for Mancini at the door. He finally said his goodbyes and they left the mansion in silence. She held a happy face whilst stepping outside, feeling proud of herself for how she handled everything, in despite of Vincent’s poor negotiating skills failing to back her up if she needed.  
The girl almost understood now why he wasn’t any higher in the ranks at this point. Aside from being an illegitimate child, his temper obviously didn’t exactly please his uncle. It was clear they had crudely different ways of dealing with things, rather conflicting, and she wondered if that was the reason why he probably didn’t participate in more serious matters like the Tattaglias before. She hoped to at least be able to help him with that as their partnership grew, since they were sort of stuck with each other after today. She knew Michael. He’d probably keep pairing them up to any further Tattaglia shenanigans.  
(y/n) takes out another cigarette, letting out a relieved sigh as they get back inside Vincent’s car. “Signore Tattaglia seemed a bit mad that you were there with me”, she muses, lighting up her smoke with a match and throwing it away. She takes a long drag and lets out the smoke, smirking, “I guess that’s why Michael wanted you to come, to keep them on his toes a little.”  
“Yeah. They were clearly a bit surprised at my presence, I’d say”, he laughs, turning on the ignition. “But you didn’t miss a beat. Nice job. You know when to be sweet and when to be tough”, he becomes sterner again. “Just don’t forget that in this business, we oughtta be careful with the people we trust. You understand what I’m saying?”  
“You really think I trust the Tattaglia?”, she asks in disbelief, finishing her cigarette.   
Vincent grunts, tapping on the steering wheel mindlessly. “No, I know you don’t trust any of those guys, you’re not that stupid”, he pauses for a minute, considering his words. “I’m just saying, you know? We gotta be careful with everyone. There’s always someone trying to take advantage, you get what I mean?”  
“You worry too much, Vincenzo”, she nudges his arm jokingly. “There’s a reason why Michael asked me to handle this, you know? You let your emotions guide you through too much”, she rests her elbow on the car window, watching the buildings passing by. “The best way to conduce this thing is the balance between heart and head. Otherwise, you’ll get yourself killed. Figuratively and literally.”  
He chuckles and nods, stopping by the Corleone household again. “You know, I think I started to like that about you. You’re sharp, I must say. And you give good advice”, he beams nimbly, deep in thought. “I’m gonna try to follow your words and control my emotions. But that doesn’t mean a man can’t be affectionate, right?”. He gives her that damn smug look again, and she can’t help but swallow when he mumbles, “can I kiss you?”  
(y/n) sighs, but her lips are still curved up. “You’re mixing things up. I don’t date coworkers”, she gazes at him apologetic, patting his shoulder. “Scusa, Vinnie.”  
Vincent’s expression drops and he stays silent for a moment, trying to deal with his disappointment. “You’re right. This ain’t the time to be distracted by a pretty face”, he amends, putting on his usual unserious face.  
After this, they stepped out of his car wordlessly. The evening had just arrived and (y/n) kept away from Mancini all night while they waited for dinner. They all set in the living room, and she did her best at pretending to care for whatever Tom was talking about, unable to keep her attention off Vincent. He remained quiet throughout the whole conversation, merely making a joke here and there not to come off as too discontent, but it was obvious he was still bummed out because of her rejection. The girl reprimanded a heavy sigh as she turned back to Tom, nodding to what he said even though her mind was elsewhere.  
Dinner was finally ready, and they ate in a comfortable chatter until Michael decided to talk business. He was very happy to hear about the meeting’s success, bragging about it for a whole minute, and Vincent’s face as he heard him praising (y/n)’s skills could only be described as funny. He struggled between agreeing with his uncle and acting unaffected by anything concerning her, clearly, and she found it incredibly amusing.  
Vinnie conceded at last, taking a sip of his wine, “well, it seems there’s nothing but good news tonight. We got what we wanted, and we managed to get the Tattaglias to agree with our conditions. You handled that like a pro, (y/n).” He gives her a knowing look, and she shudders. “We’re gonna go a long way together.”  
“Look at that. She is a Corleone at heart, this girl. You know that?”, Michael raises his glass. “To (y/n) Corleone.”  
Vincent toasts with his uncle, drinking from his glass with his eyes still on her figure. She can’t hide her blush. “To (y/n) Corleone. The future of this family.”  
Dinner went by quietly and although it was a good day for business, she didn’t allow herself to count her victory with the Tattaglias just yet. They were as dangerous as the Corleones, even more ruthless, and any false step could cost her newly earned place in the ranks. She didn’t talk much throughout the rest of the meal, tracing a plan in her head to arrange that agreement tomorrow.  
When everyone was finished, (y/n) went to wash the dishes. She took the plates quietly from the table and Vincent followed her suit towards the kitchen. She couldn’t help but smile a bit at his persistence, already anticipating his next words.  
“I can take care of that, beautiful”, he walks by her side, pointing at the plates she carried with his chin. “Besides, you done enough for today. Why don’t you go outside for some fresh air? I’ll take care of the dishes, maybe I’ll even join you later”, a small grin shows at the corner of his mouth, but it immediately disappears.  
This change of mood intrigues her. (y/n) reckons he’s still troubled by her rejection from earlier, though he wants to be polite, and she feels a tad guilty about that. “What is it, Vincenzo?”, she smirks, going for the sink anyway. “You look like you got something to say to me. Go on, I’m all ears.”  
Vinnie clears his throat and takes a quick but deep breath, fidgeting with his hands. “Well, it’s been a busy day. A pretty eventful one too”, he rubs the back of his neck and stares at her a bit embarrassed, with a soft chuckle. “I just want you to know that... Well, I...”, he seems to run out of words for a second, before finishing the phrase in one go. “I care deeply about you.”  
There is pause, as (y/n) turns on the faucet and processes his confession. She smiles gingerly, soaping up a spoon, “I’m glad I could change your perception of me in such a short period of time. You were quite the asshole earlier, you know?”, she muses, putting the cutlery in the drying rack.  
Vincent shakes his head, laughing, “oh, what a tongue!”. He puts a hand on her hip, while the other one comes to rest on her waist, and she feels her legs slightly shaky. “I’ll just say, there’s something about your stubbornness that’s pretty hard to resist. If you keep teasing me like this, I might go mad”, he comes closer to her and his eyes move from her lips to her expectant eyes, then back to her lips again. “Are you still sure you don’t want me to kiss you?”, he whispers, so close to her ear she can feel his hot breath on her skin.  
(y/n) rests their foreheads together for a moment, thinking of the consequences of this thing they have going on. So much for not mixing business with pleasure... Yet, she cannot help her shivers as his touch is firm on her stomach, rubbing it gently while he waits for her answer. She sighs heavily, pulling away close enough for them to stare at each other.  
“You said you don’t date cousins, remember?”, she nudges him playfully. “If I’m a Corleone now, I fall under that category.”  
Vincent raises an eyebrow. “Are you saying that you would, if you weren’t a Corleone?”, he leans even closer, brushing his mouth on the back of her neck. Her hairs stand on end when his deep voice continues, “you know you’re not really my cousin, right? No one will know. And even if they did, there’s so much at stake. I don’t imagine an innocent kiss would hurt anyone... right?”  
She turns her head to meet his eyes one last time before kissing him tenderly, without warning. He is taken aback, but readily invades her mouth with his tongue, ripping out a quiet moan from her. Vincent cups her face and brings her closer, guiding the kiss passionately, making her melt under his touch. His hands grip her waist firmly as he deepens the kiss even more and she decides to end it there, or else they’re going to be in trouble with Michael.  
(y/n) catches her breath when they part, checking if someone saw them. “Now, go away!”, she chuckles and nudges him again, going back to washing the dishes.  
Vinnie stays there for a few seconds, breathing a little faster. He then blinks and regains his composure, winking at her. “You’re a cruel, cruel woman, (y/n).” 
(y/n) shook her head and watched him leave casually, strolling around like he always did. She dried herself with a cloth slowly, unable to curve her lips back down, and rolled her eyes. This was definitely not her initial plan when she came to New York to start fresh; hooking up with some loser, mobster wannabe insufferable bastard she somehow just couldn’t get enough of. Now, she almost regretted even coming there in the first place. 
Almost. 
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lovingcorleone · 3 years
Text
Sonny: Have you ever done anything illegal?
Y/N: Yes! Absolutely.
Y/N: I get parking tickets all the time. I am such a badass person, you know.
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