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#don’t ​let Pesci get ahold of him
oddverse · 2 months
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I need prosciutto to be just .5x thicker
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abbynx · 3 years
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La Squadra Housemate, College AU Part 1
Genre: Platonic
This has been in my drafts in like... forever and i got sick staring at it. Enjoy the culmination of my delirium induced by sleep depravity!
It was one of those days again. The empty feeling settling between your chest, as you resume to your daily activities, head on autopilot because that's just how repetitive your days were, just slaving away in your desk, be faced with things to do such as the essays, the math equations, essay analysis... The lessons and lectures were different everyday, and yet all the same. You didn't even cared to take a break anymore, knowing full-well of the works which awaits you so why delay it? It's not like your homemade snack will make you feel any better. 
Another term paper finished, time to pass it tomorrow and have the professor tear it in front of you just in case you had a minimal typographical error, before you resort to picking it up to see where the hell did you go wrong. It ached the first time, but as time goes by, you just simply move on and comply, hurting inside but what's the point of getting it all out? A waste time, that is. You've been over it and quite frankly, it was getting so excessively pointless. 
Setting the paper aside, you went to get a hold of another one of the work next in line with a sigh. Exhaustion lingers on with the emptiness within, powered by forced determination to finish everything within your plate and burn yourself out in the process. I mean, isn't this the way to success all of them have been saying? If you resume to do this and go through the route of life, then you'd end up walking everywhere with an IV tube up your arm. 
There was a knock at the door you didn't hear and acknowledged, until the person from the other side of the door lets himself in. 
 "Hey Y/N, I said Illuso made some overcooked crap downstairs. Get your ass down and take a break." Sorbet would usually leave upon relaying the message in mind, but he remained standing by the doorway anticipating for your response, an acknowledging nod would be enough to send him on his way but your unresponsiveness prevailed.
 "Y/N! How many times do we have to call you, huh?! Get your ass down or we'll eat without you!!!" Ghiaccio's shrill voice boomed from downstairs, prompting Sorbet to wince and lift a finger up to his ear to plug it up. 
 "Go ahead, I'll catch up later." Your recent attitude alone has gotten all of your housemates concerned but they let you be because days like these were inevitable amidst the hectic days in university, but it's been weeks since you let your works take a hold of your reigns. 
 "Oh no, you don't. you're not sneaking in the kitchen at three in the morning to eat cold pasta. Come on now, take a break for once." Sorbet approached you, hand on your shoulder. "It's been weeks since you took your sights off those damns books. Just eat, okay?" 
 "I don't know, Sorb's... I have things to do and get done-- you know that, right--?" 
 "I know and it's tiring. Come now, just take a break for a moment. I promise you'll feel better." 
 For a moment you contemplated and reconsidered rejecting his offer, seeing his point but you were in dire need to be responsive with your work. You took a deep heave of breathe, lifting your palm up to cup your forehead, thumb brushing over your temple pulsing with headache you've yet to soothe. He's right, you haven't eaten anything at the duration of the day, as you've barely left your study desk in your room.
 "Okay. Just wait a moment, I'll be there--" Sorbet interjects sharply by pulling you by the wrist before you can touch anything on your desk, knowing full-well you wouldn't leave it alone unless someone were to physically drag you off it.
 "Ah Y/N, good to see you out of your cave." Proscuitto remarks with slight scrutiny, setting a plate on your usual spot on the dinner table. 
 "What's taking you too long anyways? Are you--" Formaggio positions his hand above his crotch, making a jerking off motion, which warrants him a smack from Sorbet. 
 "They were studying, you perv." The dark haired housemate narrows his glare at Formaggio as he seats himself on his usual spot, beside his boyfriend Gelato.
 "Says the one who got caught jacking it off in the hallway." Illuso scoffs, leaning his back against his chair. 
 "Oh yeah?" Formaggio challenges, leaning on the dinner table, clenching on his fork. Before anything can escalate, Risotto clears his throat. 
 A small laugh slips from your lips as you pulled yourself a seat between Ghiaccio and Melone. For a moment you forgot about the paperwork waiting for you back in your room, but it can wait. It's not like they'll leave. Sorbet was right, a quick break or two will make you feel better. 
~0~
 Sorbet bit his lip to fight his anxiety back, his clammy hand hidden at the depths of his shallow pocket to feel around its content whilst Formaggio starts the game. Here's to hoping nothing too terrible happen. 
 "I'm passing this phone to someone with the shortest temper." Formaggio bites his bottom lip in front of his front camera, rubbing his chin before passing the phone to Ghiaccio. 
The cerulean blue haired narrows his gaze at the phone owner, before recording himself. "I'm passing this phone to someone who's too obsessed with themselves." 
 Illuso raises his brow at the current phone holder, a hand instinctively landing atop his chest, before he gets ahold of the phone and pressed record once again, "First of all, I'm not obsessed with myself and second, I'm passing this phone to someone who planted a fake positive pregnancy test in the bathroom for fun." 
 "It was for scientific purposes!" Melone exclaims, before claiming the phone. "I'm passing this phone to someone who dropped their cookie but instead of throwing it out, gave it to me and watched me eat it." The lilac head playfully tosses the phone back to its owner, in which he catches it just in time it hits the wall. 
 "Pfft, it's your fault you fell for it." Formaggio cackles. "I'm passing this phone to someone who belted out G10 in the shower when the lights blacked out." 
"You're never gonna let me live that down, aren’t you?" Pesci reaches for the phone with red in his cheeks. "I will be passing the phone to someone who's the sanest in this household—"
 "BOOO! BORING!" 
 "Oh shut it," Sorbet smacks Formaggio, before collecting the phone from Pesci's grasp. "I'm passing this phone to someone who thinks pineapple on pizza is superior." He rolls his eyes, before passing it to his boyfriend. 
 "Um, sir— it does taste great! You're lucky you're cute, otherwise I would've torn you apart." Gelato snatches the phone from his boyfriend before focusing on the camera. "I'm passing the phone to someone who doesn't know how to cross the road because they're scared." 
 "Ugh, rude!" You took the phone from the blond with a roll of your eyes. "I'm passing the phone to someone who left me on the other side of the busy highway to cross a busy road." 
 "You were too slow, that's why. I'm passing the phone to someone who screamed at us for a solid minute, accusing that one of us stole his glasses whilst his glasses rested on his head." Risotto hands the phone to the person who has yet to receive the phone. 
 "I'm passing the phone to someone who burned the whole kitchen at three in the morning because they left to stove on to cook peanut butter because we ran out of peanut butter." Prosciutto hands you the phone.
 "I'm passing the phone to someone who was petting and cooing at a pile of laundry thinking it was a cat." You glared at Prosciutto, before passing the phone to Formaggio. 
 "What? It was finals and I barely got any sleep!" He whines, before sighing. "I'm passing the phone to someone who has been passed around like this phone." 
 A choked gasp pried itself away from your throat as soon as he hands you the phone with a grin. "Well I'm passing the phone to someone who accused me for taking their red lacey thong but it turns out we own the same product." 
 "Wow, you're bold, I like you." Melone chuckles, before taking the phone. "I'm passing the phone to someone who was hungover during finals and managed to pass." 
 "Pretty impressive if I do say so myself." Sorbet smirks at his achievement, proudly reaching for the phone. "I'm passing this phone to someone who faked smoking at a party to impress a girl." 
 "Well I don't smoke! I don't like how it tastes!" Pesci insists. "I'm passing the phone to someone who got out of the house with his shirt inside out and backwards and didn't realise it until he was going home." 
 "I'm passing this phone to someone who cried when I pranked him with a fake electric razor." Melone smirks as he passes the phone to Illuso. 
 "I'm passing the phone to someone who's first instinct to nonchalantly say 'Nice' before going back to his business after receiving a nude pic from his then girlfriend." Ilusso gives the phone to Ghiaccio.
 "I'm passing the phone to someone who doesn't pick their hair clumps in the bathroom after taking a bath, clogging the shower drain." 
 "Well, I'm passing the phone to someone who screamed at the professor after he said Venice." 
 "I'M PASSING THE PHONE WHO THINKS IT'S OKAY TO SAY VENICE INSTEAD OF VENEZIA!" 
If it weren't for Illuso's quick response, the phone would've crashed against the wall and permanently putting it into a broken state. "Heh, okay then. I'm passing the phone to someone who has been with my man Gelato through thick and thin." 
 Sorbet gulps, his heart hammering in his chest as he reaches for the phone. His hand that has been hidden in his pocket since the very start of the game finally came out, with a small, black velvet box. Gelato glances at his longtime boyfriend, confused for a moment until the blond saw the little box resting within Sorbet's grasp. In shock, the blond's hands shot up to cover his lips and nose, his onyx gaze watering. Everyone in the room has their thoughts race rapidly with incoherent thoughts. 
 "I'm passing the phone to whom I want to marry and be with for the rest of my life, because without him I feel so empty and alone." Sorbet hands the phone to his longtime boyfriend, before taking a knee and opening the box. "Will you marry me?" 
 It would be a miracle Gelato would come to thank later as he didn't know he would still be able to respond despite being so deep in cloud nine. The entirety of the squad stood behind Sorbet at the edge of their seats, watching their carefully crafted plan unfold before them. 
 "Oh, yes. YES!" With the key word uttered, the once tensed room burst into excitement, jumping and screaming whilst the couple slipped on each others engagement rings before engulfing each other into a passionate embrace.
 "WHOOO YEAH! THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING 'BOUT!" Formaggio cheers amidst the screams of excitement. 
 "Oh you guys, c'mere!" Sorbet caught you and Risotto's necks, before pulled in for a hug. Soon the others joined in for a group hug, almost squeezing the couple in the middle but it was all so worth it.
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wri0thesley · 4 years
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Smutty but also fluffy and cute scenario of pesci and his afab s/o having their first time together? (and maybe with some hints of prosciutto being jealous of pesci's s/o?)
first time - pesci x fem reader (3k)
NSFW. 18+ only ! afab reader, fem pronouns. sweet vanilla PIV sex; brief mentions/allusions to cheating. 
You’d always thought, when the time came, that you’d be the nervous one. That you’d be the one with the bitten lip and the fluttering hands, falling over yourself to laugh and stammer and try and take away some of the awkwardness in the air. You’d left it a while, after all - your friends and your peers would tell you of their exploits and you’d raise your eyebrows and widen your eyes and gasp at the appropriate moments and kept your secret held close to your chest. It felt silly, saying it out loud; ‘I’m just waiting for the right person’. Eventually, you’d realised that the right person wasn’t going to come. You’d made your peace with it. You’d looked forward to quiet nights in, alone, and tried to ignore the fact that (whilst it was a perfectly good choice that many people were happy with), you didn’t really want to be alone for the rest of your life. 
And then Pesci had walked into your life. 
He might not have been the tall dark and handsome stranger you’d once envisioned, but you couldn’t deny that you wouldn’t change him for all of the world. You look at him and your heart swells; he says you look beautiful tonight and you’re a flushed, blustering mess. Other people might not see him as handsome, but for you . . . you cannot get enough of his mouth, or the broad shoulders, or twisting fingers through his hair. Your first times for everything had been nervous affairs - your first kiss, snatched as he said goodnight to you in front of your door, his cheeks red as he pulled away. 
“I-I’m sorry,” he’d said, stammering, as he looked into your wide eyes. You’d seen him begin to pull into himself - his shoulders drawing in, teeth dangerously close to biting his lip, eyebrows drawn low over his eyes. And instead of letting that happen, you’d taken ahold of his shoulders and kissed him again, scarcely believing in your own courage. 
He’d introduced you to Prosciutto after you’d been nervously dancing around the concept of dating for two months. The severe blond had raised his eyebrows, ice blue eyes flicking up and down your form, before he’d curtly nodded at you and gone about his business. 
“Don’t be worried,” Pesci had said, awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck. “He’s kinda like that with most people. He saw your picture on my phone and said I’d done a real good job, so . . .” Your poor boyfriend reddens, suddenly aware that perhaps he shouldn’t have shared that tidbit of information, as you felt your own cheeks heat up in response. He probably shouldn’t have shared it - still, the knowledge that Prosciutto felt as though you were at least good-looking helped assuage your fears that he wouldn’t think that you weren’t good enough for his fratello. 
(“He’s not really my brother,” Pesci had fallen over to tell you. “He’s kinda like . . . my mentor, I guess. I-if you were wondering why we don’t look like each other or anythin’, I know he’s a lot handsomer than I am--”. You’d kissed Pesci on the nose, silencing his spluttering, as you’d reassured him that actually, Pesci himself was far more your type anyway.)
You and Pesci go out with Prosciutto sometimes and you notice that he’s . . . off with you. He lingers a little too long beside you, a little too touchy-feely, a little too much treating you like Pesci treats you. He smirks at you and his eyes travel down your body and you blush because you’re not immune to all of his charms - but you realise what it is one day when Pesci is sick and Prosciutto drops by to give you a jacket you left at their place (Pesci shares a house with several of his coworkers; by all accounts his job isn’t well-paying and he has roommates to help keep costs down) and he hovers in your doorway for a fraction too long.
He’s jealous. 
You guess that nobody has ever preferred Pesci over him before. You guess seeing Pesci happy makes him want it for himself - but any good will you have toward him dissipates at the thought that he’s betray someone he cares about for it, and it flees completely as Prosciutto places a hand on your arm and smiles a crooked smile you’re sure has had people falling at his feet in the past. 
“Can’t I come in for a drink before I head back?” He says, his tone slightly lower than usual. His fingers stroke over your wrist. The flush comes unbidden to your face - he’s Prosciutto, after all - but you wave him away and force a smile.
“No, I really have things to do--”
“Cara,” he steps forward even so, toes just brushing the boundary of your home in stylish expensive leather shoes. He smiles at you again, sickly sweet. “Pesci tells me everything, you know. And you and he have been an item long enough that if you wanted to--”
“I don’t know what you mean,” you snap nervously. You do know what he’s getting at. The thought makes it feel like cats are clawing up your insides. Prosciutto continues to smile at you indulgently. 
“I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted it,” he says softly. “You’re very pretty, you know . . . I’d be lying if I didn’t say I envied Pesci a little. He doesn’t have to know--”
You’re not proud of slamming the door in his face. You spend the entire night stressed you’re going to get a text from Pesci about how rude you were, encompassing some wild story that Prosciutto’s concocted to make you look like you’re the one at fault in the situation. But nothing is forthcoming. 
Maybe he felt bad about it. You hope he did. 
What it does do, though - the whole situation with Prosciutto - is reaffirm that you love Pesci. Prosciutto’s right in that you’ve been dancing around one area of relationships, but it’s not for lack of attraction to Pesci. God, no. 
It’s fear that you’ll be bad at it, or that Pesci will see something in you he doesn’t like, that you’ll be left tear-stained and alone after something goes wrong. But as Prosciutto had made the insinuation he’d very much like to be invited to your bed, you’d had the realisation that you wanted Pesci. Beyond all reason, you wanted to kiss him and hold him and find yourself under him and drink him in, in every way possible. So the next time you two had a date planned, you asked if perhaps he wouldn’t just like to stay in with you and watch a movie. 
-
You’re both crackling with nerves. Your first attempt to kiss Pesci, after you’ve made it to the bedroom, is broken by your shuddering breath as you look at him from under dark eyelashes. 
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you tell him, nervous and scared. Pesci’s hands come up to hold your waist, making you feel safe in his embrace. His own smile is nervous, his lip bitten just as much as your own. 
“Neither do I,” he confesses. “So . . . that means we get to find out together, r-right?”
Right. You take a deep breath and kiss him again, and as his teeth gently nip at your bottom lip and you trace the lines of his own lips (his lipstick tastes like watermelon), you feel his hands travel down your back to your shirt. Your gasp is caught in his mouth as fingers gently work under the fabric until he’s touching your bare back, and you push yourself into the kiss. Your own hands go to rest on his shoulders, gently guiding yourself until you’re sat beside him on the bed. 
“I can take this off?” Pesci checks with you, fretting, before he goes any further. You nod and duck your head to hide the way your cheeks are giving you away. 
“Y-yeah,” you breathe. “I’d like that--”
The shirt is gently eased over your head and tossed aside. Pesci’s eyes travel down your body; his gaze lingering longest over your chest. His own cheeks are just as damning evidence as yours. He’d already shrugged off the coat-gilet hybrid he wore when he’d come into the living room,and you’re aware asking him to remove the body suit at this point would be unfair - still, you tug gently on one strap. 
“At least roll it down?” You ask him, voice small. “Just to make me feel less exposed?”
Pesci smiles nervous and earnest at you as he does just that - you see the fear that you won’t like his body reflected from your own eyes into his, and before he can apologise for the light covering of softness you kiss his collarbone. 
“You’re so handsome,” you tell him,” trailing kisses to his clavicle. His breath catches. He is soft - but beneath the layer of softness, you can feel what is unmistakably broad and hard muscle. Despite his appearance, you know that Pesci is strong, and the evidence of that is in how he holds you and how he feels and how effortlessly he holds you against him, pulling you slightly closer so he can unhook your bra. 
That fabric falls from you and though you want to pull yourself in and hide from prying eyes, you make an effort not to - an effort that’s rewarded when Pesci’s eyes darken. One of his hands comes around, cupping the weight of your breast in his hand, thumbs working over your nipple so you bite back a whimper of desire. When he hears the noise he leans in, and - checking it’s alright before he does it - he kisses your nipple, licks at it, until it hardens beneath his continued attention. You moan as he transfers his concentration to the other, fingers gently tangling in his hair. You tug slightly as he brushes the sensitive bud with his teeth, and he moans against you in turn. 
He pulls back from you, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed and his mouth slightly open. 
“Should we . . . both?” He asks, and you bite your lip. 
“Maybe . . . together?” You reply, halting. Gratefully, Pesci nods, and for a few moments you busy yourself with jean zips and buttons and the sliding down of fabric of your thighs, peeking at Pesci from on the floor. He peels his bodysuit off his skin - and you’re surprised to see how scarred he is. Emotions well up in your chest. You want to kiss every single scar he has, reassure him of how handsome you think he is, make him sigh and gasp and bend into your touch . . .
And then you see the bulge in his tight underwear and your entire face is suddenly awash in heat. You don’t know what you’d been expecting - but you’re not sure you were expecting that. 
Pesci sees your reaction - you’re expecting him to apologise and worry and pull his clothes back on, but he surprises you by just smiling bashfully. Oh, he knows why you’re responding like that . . . the confidence on him imbues you with some confidence of your own, stoking the flames of your arousal low in your stomach, and you lose your jeans completely. 
“You’re beautiful,” Pesci says, entirely honest, as his eyes drink in the sight of you bare before him. “I can’t believe . . .”
His hands skim over your hips, your breasts, your thighs. 
“Do you wanna help me take them off?” You ask, motioning to the scrap of silk and lace that’s passing as underwear. Hey - this was a special day! You wanted to wear something nice! 
“Yes,” Pesci breathes. His hands are warm on your thighs. You feel the fabric stick to the slick valley between your legs and you know from the way that pesci looks at you and bites his lip, all dark-eyed and desiring, that Pesci feels it too. “For me?” He asks, his tone almost teasing. You nod, embarrassed, at the tent in the front of his underwear. 
“If that’s for me too,” you say, and he grins. 
By degrees he pushes you onto the bed, gently parting your thighs. He looks between your legs for a moment; the glint of light on your slick folds, the way your clit peeks out, swollen, from between plump labia lips. He breathes in, deep and needy. 
He touches you first, coaxing you out with soft strokes, the flicker of his fingertips against that same swollen clit. He’s clearly unsure of what he’s doing - but God, how you love him for seeing your anxiousness and taking charge. God, how you love the little smile he gives when you moan or gasp or your hips buck up helplessly to get him to touch you more. 
“I can’t believe how lucky I am,” he says, dry-voiced, as he pushes down his own underwear. You bite your lip looking at his cock - thick, flushed, tip ruddy with need. You’d thought you’d be afraid of it - even you, with your limited experience with them, knew that Pesci was packing a sizeable heat - but as it’s revealed to you, and as Pesci bucks his hip against yours so his cock slides slippery against your sex, you find that you’re longing to have him inside of you. 
“I’m the lucky one,” you say, reaching up, winding your arms about his neck, your fingers once more tangling in the green strands. “You’re perfect.”
“No,” Pesci says, smiling. He leans down, rubbing his nose against yours, at the same time as you feel the head of his cock gently breach the first few millimetres of your entrance. Your fingers tighten. “You’re perfect.”
He slides himself in slowly, letting you get used to the stretch of him inside you. Every so often, he pauses, letting you take a deep breath, readjust - and as he reaches his hilt, where you two are pressed most thoroughly against one another, he stills entirely. 
“Tell me when I can move, amore,” he breathes, his voice cracked and straining. You can hear the desire for more in his tone - and you’re glad that he, too, wants to fuck you until you can’t walk straight. The stretch of him inside you is slightly uncomfortable, yes - but more than discomfort, your body is crying out for more stimulation. For Pesci to claim you utterly. 
“Please move,” you reply, instead, and as he pulls out with a slick stroke, you pull him into a messy kiss to hide the needy whines that are issuing from your mouth. There’s nothing, for a time, aside from the sound of his skin slapping against yours. The slick noise of your sex welcoming him with every stroke. Yours and Pesci’s heavy breathing, the way your lips press together and go slack as each of you are overwhelmed by sensation. 
He strokes places inside of you that you never knew needed stroking, alights fire where you didn’t realise one could even be aflame. He fits inside you perfectly, and your body knows it. You breathe out soft epithets of how much you love him and how good he feels interspersed with breathy little pleas. A little faster, a little harder--
He’s eager to please, and he responds to every single request by readjusting himself and making sure that you’re as satisfied as you can be. In return, you grind your hips against him and nip at his neck and kiss and run fingers over his skin, delighting every time he sighs or groans inside you. And through it all, a tight ball of heat in the middle of your stomach makes itself known. It tugs and pulls at you, stoked by the feel of his cock against your inner walls, edging at your vision and your throat until you feel like you’re going to fall apart. 
“Pesci,” you whimper against him, sweat-soaked and breathless, “Pesci, I’m going to--”
“Please, cara,” he says, “I want you too, please come for me--”
And you cannot hold it back anymore. The tides wash over you as the ball inside of you explodes into a hundred pieces, pleasure washing over you as you feel yourself pump slick over Pesci’s cock, your inner walls spasming and clenching around his cock like a vice. 
He growls low in the back of his throat, a noise that might have been a swear dropping from his lips, his hips snapping into you in quick succession three, four more times--
He comes inside you, his face more animal than man, and your body gives another low throb of desire at seeing your shy, nervous boyfriend embrace his instinct more. You’ve always known he had the capability to be more than the nervous, stammering wreck that he thinks he is - but seeing it written so clearly on his face . . . You whimper as the rock of his cock and the emptiness when he pulls out of your soaking sex sends a shivering aftershock through your body, your breathing coming in needy little gasps.
Pesci murmurs your name as he lays beside you, settling down, pulling sweat-soaked skin against sweat-soaked skin to whisper his adoration of you into your hair. Exhausted, you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth and let your eyes drift closed as you settle into the comfortable and familiar embrace of your boyfriend.
“I love you,” you tell him, before you let the sleep claim you. Your thighs feel sticky from both his come and your own; your body feels exhausted from the rocking against him, from the intensity of your orgasm - but above all, you feel happy. Pleased. Relaxed as Pesci settles beside you. You’re glad you waited for him - a thousand lonely nights would be worth one perfect night with Pesci. 
And you feel very glad that you didn’t take up Prosciutto’s offer. 
A little part of you, deep inside, flares with a thought, recalling Prosciutto’s exact words when he’d tried to cajole you into his way of thinking: you hope that Pesci tells him about this too.
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kindajared · 4 years
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Close The Freezer || IllusoxReader (Fluff)
(It’s done! I suck at writing Illuso, but I tried! This is for you! @weeb4equality !!)
You yawned, placing your hand over your mouth as you sat on the edge of your bed in your room. You had been in bed nearly all day. It was your day off and you needed plenty of sleep and well, you certainly got it. It was 6 in the evening and the squad had planned to go out drinking together and you really didn’t want to miss that. It was always fun hanging out with them despite their shenanigans.
You then heard a knock on the door and brought yourself out of your thoughts.
“Come in!”
You called. The door opened to reveal Illuso, making you smile. Illuso was your favorite of the squad. Sure, he wasn’t the nicest or most gentle of people, he was actually a genuine asshole, but you liked him, and he liked you. It was safe to say the two of you were friends.
“Oh, hey, Illuso, what’s up?”
You couldn’t help but yawn again, still waking up.
“I wanted to tell you something.”
He spoke. He felt he was ready-ready to finally tell you. He was a confident person, but internally he was panicking a bit. He couldn’t quite help it. His heartbeat seemed to be inconsistent in his chest.
“Oh? Well come sit then.”
You told him, patting the bed beside you. He did as you suggested and approached you, sitting down. You nudged his bicep with your elbow.
“What is it? Nothing bad I hope.”
You leaned forward so that you could see his face better, as he wasn’t quite looking at you. He shook his head and smiled lightly.
“No-no, nothing bad.”
You straightened back up when he finally looked at you. He opened his mouth to speak before a voice practically boomed from the doorway, startling you both.
“HEY, you two! You gonna come with us tonight?”
It was Formaggio. Illuso shot him a glare, clearly not approving of his presence. You were happy to see him though, he was like a bother to you.
“Wouldn’t miss it! I love going out with you guys.”
You nudge the man next to you.
“You too, right?”
Illuso nodded, still looking directly at Formaggio.
“Yeah, I’m going.”
His voice was rigid, devoid of excitement. You noticed immedietelly. Formaggio’s expression fell as he got Illuso’s message and he walked off. Illuso looked back and you and you raised your brows. He spoke again.
“Anyway I-.”
“ILLUSO-.”
Another booming voice from the doorway. Illuso let out a long, irritated sigh. Ghiaccio was at the door. Illuso looked at him and spoke through gritted teeth.
“What is it, Ghiaccio?”
“You were the one who left the freezer open, weren’t you?”
He pointed at Illuso, eyes wide and brows furrowed. Illuso took in a deep breath.
“I have no fucking idea, Ghiaccio, it could have been any of us.”
Ghiaccio growled, arm back at his side, he balled his fists.
“Don’t do it again or I’ll kick your ass, alright?”
He was red in the face before he walked away. Illuso put his face in his hands and leaned over. You furrowed your brows, look of concern on you face.
“You alright, Illuso?”
He mumbled into his hands, but you couldn’t hear what he said. He leaned back up, taking his hands away from his face-it was flushed.
“Fine-fine-I-.”
“Illuso, close the freezer the ne-.”
“I’ll close the freezer Proscuitto, Jesus Christ, go away!”
Proscuitto was now at the door, brows furrowed. Illuso was losing his patience, and fast. You couldn’t help but start to laugh.
“He’ll close the freezer, I’ll make sure he does, okay?”
You reassured him on behalf of your friend. Proscuitto rolled his eyes and walked off.  Illuso rested his head on your shoulder then, exhausted at this point.
“So…are you gonna tell me or what?”
You ask his before placing your head on top of his. He sighed.
“I won’t be able to.”
He told you. You lifted your head.
“So, it is something import then?”
You asked, extremely curious. He lifted his head so that he could look at you.
“I-I-.”
“Hey guys…”
Pesci walked in, slouching.
“(Y/N)-can you tell Proscuitto that I d- don’t wanna go tonight.”
Illusso was interrupted…again…You spoke.
“Tell him yourself. Stand up to him, you’re capable.”
You rolled your eyes. Pesci was always coming to you for help for things like this. He was rather sensitive. He pouted.
“But he-.”
“No ‘buts’. Go and tell him. Don’t be a baby.”
You motioned for him to go to his brother and he left despite the fact that he didn’t get the help he so desperately needed. It was obvious Illuso had something important to say and now it was your turn to get a little frustrated.
You then got up from the bed and took ahold of the door, ready to close it, but Melone came into view.
“Are y-?”
“Yes-go away.”
You shut the door without another word. You sighed and leaned against it.
“How frustrating was that?”
You chuckled and returned to the bed, right next to Illuso. He cleared his throat, but was hesitant to speak, so you did.
“I’m waiting, I-.”
“I’m in love with you.”
He managed to finally say it. You leaned away from him momentarily, taken aback. Your heart skipped a beat. He what? You swallowed and relaxed yourself. You weren’t sure what to do or say. You looked down at his hands, limp in his lap. He managed to look at you as shy is this situation made him. You flushed a light shade of pink.
“I-I-…wow, I had no idea…”
You met his gaze. Though you knew he wasn’t joking you had to second guess it. You had feelings for him, but you never expected this, so you didn’t have a response.
“I know.”
He smiled softly, causing you to do the same. You reached for one of his hands and took in. His eyes widened a bit as he glanced down at the both of your hand, now together. He looked back up; his red eyes were full of surprise.
You reached up with your other hand and touched the side of his face. You’d never seen this expression on his face. He was vulnerable and it was sweet. He swallowed and you spoke.
“You’re sweet, Illuso.”
You told him, sliding your hand to the back of his neck and closed your face in on his own , pressing your lips against each other’s. One of his hands immediately took hold of your face. You melted into each other.
Your lips were only together for mere moments, but it felt like an entire night. When you broke the kiss, Illuso was slow to open his eyes. He was shocked, but he made sure not to show it through his expression. You held each other’s faces.
“I like the look on your face. Never seen it before.”
You took your hand away from his face, but still held the other’s hand. Illuso was now the one blushing. He removed his hand as well and cleared his throat, turning his head away.
“Yeah well, you weren’t supposed to.”
You laughed at that, pulling his hand up to your chest and holding it in both your hands. You were both startled when you heard a knock at the door. It Was Formaggio.
“Risotto is heading out; we’re leaving without you two.”
He called. You looked at each other. You stood then, tugging at Illuso’s arm, prompting him to stand up. You hugged him gently, wrapping your arms around his back, he returned the embrace immediately. You replied to Formaggio.
“We’ll be right there.”
79 notes · View notes
kindajared · 4 years
Text
First Confrontation || NaomixRisotto
(I know there’s plenty of people who don’t like OC fics and I honestly totally get that bc I usually don’t either, but I’m really passionate about her...and Risotto <3 So I’ve sort of been writing things for her and thought...why not publish it here? Enjoy possibly?)
The run down for what she would be doing as a part of the hitman team was simple enough for her. She was mostly uninterested. This was just be something she would be doing for years on end for the sake of her actions. Honestly, she didn’t mind. Her life had turned to shit, and this was certainly something to do. It would be a wild ride and she quickly came to realize it, even like it.
Being teamed up with Formaggio didn’t really bother her much. It was easy to admit she didn’t enjoy his company at first, but it did get worse. She hated his stuck-up attitude and his attempt at char. There were few things she like about him. But as far as she knew, this would be long term.
She had no idea what to expect on the mission, but that was sort of apart of the fun of it. It ended up being rather boring despite the fact that she murdered someone-Formaggio being the one that wanted her to do it to ‘test her loyalty’. She was indeed hesitant, but she didn’t have the humanity she once did, so she just did it. The death of the enemy Capo was unsuspicious looking, though an autopsy would definitely say otherwise.
Neither of them broke a sweat and returned to the headquarters withing days. The both of them bickered quite a bit, it was a shame, really, they were alike in a lot of ways. Of course, the car rides were the worst. They were either silent, or their conversations were slightly verbally abusive. Oh well, she’d have to get used to it.
“You one and only has returned!”
Formaggio declared as the two of you entered the headquarters. Naomi went to sit down on one of the common room’s sofas, crossing her legs. The ones there were Prosciutto, Pesci, Illusso, and Risotto. They weren’t saying much.
“Well?”
Risotto spoke up, looking to Naomi. She perked up, having relaxed a bit.
“Ah, fine. No trouble. Gotta admit it was sort of a shame.”
“Hm.”
Risotto replied. Formaggio spoke with a smirk before sitting.
“I think she might get off on this stuff. Naomi shot him a glare.
“You say that to me again when you go whack off in the bathroom later tonight.”
She retorted rudely. Formaggio was silent, looking away. Illusso chuckled.
“I like her.”
He was amused more than anyone. Prosciutto then leaned forward, folding his hands together in front of him.
“If the two of you don’t get off each other’s backs, it won’t end well.”
His words made Naomi sigh and cross her arms.
“Yeah yeah, so be it.”
She looked to Formaggio, who hesitantly looked back. She spoke again.
“Can we get over it? Or not?”
Formaggio lifted a brow.
“So, is this a truce then? You giving in?”
He smirked. Naomi scoffed.
“Call it what you want. Sure. I’m not a fan of immaturity.”
Prosciutto looked to her; attention caught. Pesci spoke.
“I haven’t heard someone talk to ‘Maggio like that besides Illusso.”
Naomi couldn’t help but smile.
“Unfortunately, I’m going to have to hold back from now on.”
Melone and Ghiacchio then walked in. Ghiacchio’s expression was twisted.
“That fucking sucked.”
Risotto spoke after Ghiacchio.
“What happened?”
Melone sat next to Naomi before replying.
“Nothing. That’s his problem.”
He spoke on behalf of the other. Ghiacchio growled.
“Was that even worth anything?”
He turned to Melone, who opened his computer.
“Fifty Million Lyra.”
Melone told him. Ghiacchio scoffed.
“More than I expected. Good.”
Naomi lifted her brows.
“Greedy, I see.”
She commented. Ghiacchio furrowed his brows.
“Of course. We barely get any compared to what the Familia gets!”
Melone turned to her.
“You’ll start to feel the same. Greed is a powerful thing, you know.”
He spoke directly. Naomi hummed.
“I see…so then… what is our motivation supposed to be?”
Risotto interrupted.
“Passione. We do everything for the Familia.”
Naomi looked to him.
“Ah. I suppose I’ll try harder. If I’m going to be a part of this. I should do it right, no?”
Risotto nodded.
“You’re getting the hand of it quickly.”
Naomi smiled lightly at his words. So, she was making a good impression. Good. This was what she wanted. Risotto stood then.
“Naomi.”
He spoke her name and she looked up at him.
“Come with me.”
He sounded serious. It made Naomi nervous. She stood hesitantly wand walked over to him. She’d never stood next to him. A whimper threatened to leave her lips. He was practically a giant. She followed him when he began to walk, looking back at the other’s Formaggio was smirking, sliding a finger across his neck. Naomi gave him the finger before Risotto spoke.
“Ignore him.”
Naomi’s heart skipped a beat before she turned back, entering his office.
“Close the door behind you.”
He went to sit at his desk as she shut the door behind her. She swallowed when she turned to see him as he sat, resting his elbows on his desk.
“Come closer.”
He told her. She was still at the door. She closed the distance between her and his desk. He looked up.
“Tell me how it went.”
He meant business. Naomi reached up to smooth her hair back.
“Well, it went well. I don’t really know what else to say. Nothing got in the way. No extra fatalities or anything like that.”
She told him. Not exactly sure what he wanted to hear. He nodded.
“And Formaggio?”
She chuckled.
“I don’t have anything nice to say.”
“Naomi.”
Naomi quieted herself when he interrupted.
“You have to get along with him.”
Naomi looked to the side.
“I know. I just fucking hate guys like him. If I could have a different-?”
Risotto stood then, rounding the table. He towered over her.
“Don’t.”
He looked down at her and she tried her best not to cower.
“Um…don’t wha-?”
He took ahold of her face roughly.
“Make requests like that. Don’t.”
She widened her eyes.
“Y-Yes. I won’t…”
She averted her eyes. Risotto removed his hand.
“I like you. I don’t want that to change.”
Those words made Naomi blush. Wow. Okay. That was kind of awesome to hear.
“I-I don’t want that to change either.”
Risotto motioned with his head for her to leave and she began to walk to the door without a word, but a hand was placed on her shoulder.
“Don’t disappoint me.”
She managed to look back.
“I won’t.”
She smiled softly as Risotto moved his hand.
“Good.”
She was luckily getting used to his voice, so she no longer had the shakes.  She turned the door handle and left, letting out a long breath. Fuck. That was…intense. Though she loved the feeling she felt around him. She hated that she did. She no longer wanted to feel those familiar feelings. Not after what she’d been through. She disliked emotions, especially romantic ones.
She would have to figure something out. Make it all stop. For the sake of her sanity…or else she would fall for him.
14 notes · View notes
kindajared · 4 years
Text
Naomi Meets La Squadra
(I felt like writing this erkjvbnebnrvjkdn)
She let out a long, exasperated, breath. So, this was it. This was the beginning of her new life and she had no idea what to expect. This was the last thing she wanted…she regretted almost everything she had ever done at this point. There were so many things she should have just left alone, but no, she couldn’t. She had to dig deeper and get herself into this mess. Oh well, there was no turning back…being apart of the Mafia was permanent…and she was now a part of it.
She knocked on the door, looking all around her as she waited for an answer, when she got none, she huffed. She knocked again, trying to be patient.
“Hello?”
She knocked again.  She put her ear to the door and heard nothing. She furrowed her brows and took ahold of the two-door handles and turned them, surprised that they were unlocked. She opened the door to find an empty room with four sofas, table in between. She walked in slowly, unsure.
“Um, hello?”
She walked up to the couch nearest her and gripped the back of it. Looking around. Was this the right place? It had to be. She rounded the couch and decided to sit.
“This is bullshit…”
She mumbled, observing her lavender fingernails. How long would she have to wait? She’d never been a patient person and she never would be. She then felt a sharp pain in her hand and cried out.
“FUCK-!”
She looked to her hand to see the shape of a hook underneath her skin. She observed the glowing finishing line coming from it. A stand user? She stood and took ahold of the line, yanking on it hard. There was a thump from the other room. The hook traveled up to her forearm and her eyes widened. She began to pull more on the line, wrapping it around her fist. The line went stiff and she bolted towards where it was coming from. It was coming from behind a door. She tried to open the door, but it was locked.
“Hey fucker! Come out and play, won’t you?!”
She began to kick at the door, slowly kicking it in, chipping the wood.
“Okay, Okay, stop!”
A peculiar voice came from behind the door and it opened. Who she saw was…well...he was interesting looking to say the least. She didn’t say anything. The man spoke.
“This was just to test y-AHG!”
He tried to speak. Naomi wasn’t listening, just glaring. The man keeled over; internal organs being constricted.
“Take this damn hook out.”
She growled. The man did as she asked and the hook disappeared, She hissed and rubbed her hand.
“Thanks. I feel very welcome.”
The man then gasped, holding his stomach. Naomi walked to him and held her hand out.
“Get up.”
She told him. He looked up, surprised that she was helping him. He took her hand and stood. He spoke.
“M-My name’s Pesci.”
He spoke nervously. His fishing rod dissipated, and he let out a pant. She spoke.
“So, you uh, have I come to the right place, or...?”
She crossed her arms. Pesci nodded.
“If you’re Naomi, then yes.”
She smiled.
“Good. I’m glad.”
Pesci then walked past her, beckoning her to follow with his hand. She did so and looked around.
“I refuse to believe you’re the only one here.”
She told the other. Pesci went and sat one of the couches..
“I am. They should be back any minute.”
He told her. She groaned.
“Wow, I expected more from my ‘soon to be’ comrades.”
She went and sat on the couch across from him, leaning back. She looked up and noticed the doors were still open. Pesci looked up and noticed as well, shooting up to go and close them.
“Whew, the Capo would have gotten mad.”
Her brows were lifted.
“My bad, Pesci.”
She apologized, shifting in her seat. She followed him with her eyes as he returned to his seat, speaking.
“So, what are the rest like? Are they like you?”
She asked. Pesci swallowed, shaking his head.
“Very different. I can’t explain it…explain them…”
He told her. She hummed curiously before the doorknobs jiggled and turned, swinging open to reveal three men. A blonde in what seemed like designer clothes, a man with long lavender hair and a skintight body suit with an interesting pattern. The third was a man with curly blue hair and red glasses. These were all the most notable features of the men. The lavender haired man spoke.
“Oh! Meravigioso! You must be Naomi.”
He was quick to walk over to you. He sat down and you leaned away.
“Yes…and you?”
She looked him up and down. He was cute. He smiled.
“I’m Melone. And those two….”
He motioned to the others.
“Are Prosciutto and Ghiacchio.”
The blue haired man gritted his teeth.
“I can introduce myself, Melone.”
He walked over, sitting on a free couch. Heer attention didn’t stay on him long. She was looking at Prosciutto, who just shook his head before walking over to her, holding out his hand.
“Prosciutto.”
He introduced himself; voice deep. She took his hand.
“Naomi.”
You gave it a shake. He went to sit next to Pesci. Melone then gasped.
“Look at your hand, what happened?”
She raised it. You had almost forgotten there had been a hook it, it was still bleeding.
“Ask Pesci.”
She nodded over to him. Melone scoffed.
“Why would you do that?”
Pesci cowered at the tone of Melone’s voice.
“R-Risotto asked me to.”
Melone relaxed himself, nodding.
“Ah, I see.”
Naomi looked between them both.
“Risotto? Is that your Capo?”
The two of them nodded. Ghiacchio spoke.
“I thought he’d be here.”
A voice then came from the door.
“And what do we have here, is this her?”
A man with a buzz cut and red leather jacket spoke. Prosciuttto spoke up.
“Let’s all just wait for him to make a bad impression.”
The man then shot Prosciutto a glare.
“Look who’s bitchy today.”
Melone leaned over and spoke into your ear.
“That’s Formaggio and that’s Illuso behind him.”
He was close to her, a little too close, but she didn’t mind, not one bit.
“Ah.”
Illuso then looked to her, his red eyes met hers.
“She’s not what I expected.”
Naomi shifted in her seat, crossing her arms.
“I have a name.”
Formaggio looked at her and smiled sweetly, walking over to her, taking ahold of her unhurt hand, pressing a kiss to the top of it.
“Naomi, right?”
She pulled her hand away slowly.
“Yeah.”
This was a whirlwind. This was a group of absolute characters. She knew they would end up driving her crazy. She then felt Melone’s hand in her hair. He stroked it gently.
“Risotto should be here any time now.”
He told her.. Formaggio sat next to you and Illuso next to Ghiacchio. Ghiacchio huffed.
“Yeah, where the hell is he?”
Everyone shrugged before Pesci spoke up.
“He said-.”
“What did I say?”
A deep voice came from the doors before it closed. A tall man in black walked in. When he turned to face everyone, Naomi’s lips parted, chest tightened. Pesci swallowed.
“That you’d be here when they got back.”
Pesci finished and then Formaggio spoke.
“And here you are.”
The man went to sit down on the free couch. Melone then spoke into your ear again.
“That’s our Capo, Risotto.”
She listened to him speak intently before she looked at Risotto, who had rested his elbows on his knees, chin on top of his hand. He looked over to her with eyes like she’d never seen.
“Naomi Bianco.”
He spoke her name. It was going to take her a while to get used to his voice.
“Yeah-Yes.”
She swallowed. Why was she nervous? She was never nervous. She cleared her throat.
“And you’re the Capo I’m assuming?”
She questioned. He nodded.
“Mm. Risotto Nero.”
He introduced himself. Illuso then perked up.
“Hey, Nero and Bianco. Black and white. Interesting…is this a sign?”
Formaggio groaned.
“Shut up, dumbass.”
She blushed but hid it by putting her face in her hands. She sighed.
“It’s going to take me a while to get used to this…”
Melone chuckled.
“Yes, yes it will.”
Ghiaccio spoke then.
“Don’t act like you’re not one of us, Melone. She’ll have to get used to you too.”
She chuckled then, removing her face from her hands.
“So-are we all acquainted?”
Risotto interrupted. Prosciutto replied.
“As well as we’ll ever be. Yeah.”
Risotto nodded.
“So, we can get started then. I have something for you, Naomi.”
She perked up.
“Yes?”
She replied. Risotto continued.
“A mission for you and Formaggio to go on.”
Melone frowned and whined.
“Really? Formaggio?”
Risotto rolled his eyes, leaning upward.
“Yes. Don’t complain.”
Melone sighed and leaned back. Formaggio smiled at her and nodded.
“We’ll get along fine.”
Naomi stuck her nose up.
“Sure thing…I certainly hope so.”
She told him, leaning back next to Melone, who chuckled. Illuso looked between her and Formaggio.
“I guess we’ll have to see, won’t we?”
Risotto sighed.
“I guess so.”
13 notes · View notes
kindajared · 4 years
Text
Truth or Dare || NaomixRisotto
OWO This was so fun to write!
It had been a decent amount of time that Naomi had been in the squad; around six weeks by now. She did have to try to befriend the member, though, she didn’t exactly ‘befriend’ them all. If she had to say who’d she’s got along with, it was Melone, Pesci, and Prosciutto…. She could mention Illuso, but she still had to try to get along with him. Formaggio was a different story, she could barely stand him…and Ghiaccio was just…a little much. Though with Ghiacchio, she knew there was a chance.
Tonight, was the night where her friendship would be put to the test. Whether or not she was truly apart of the team. This seemed to come out of nowhere. But she couldn’t deny it sounded fun…though not a good idea. But…she liked bad ideas…
Truth or Dare…with a touch of drink.
That was the idea. It was almost terrifying. She knew she would be the one being asked the questions...at least mostly.
She sighed and rolled your eyes when Formaggio suggested it, but she agreed. It was something she was willing to do.
At around 10 at night, they all decided to sit in the common area. Shots and glasses were placed on the table with various bottles of hard alcohol. Naomi shook your head at the sight. This would be wild…
“This is going to be a fucking disaster.”
She commented. Illusso looked up and over to her, already sitting down. He replied to her words, waving his hand toward himself.
“Come sit. Don’t be a pussy, Naomi.”
He had a light smirk on his face. You went to sit, sitting next to Melone. He looked over and smiled.
“You really like me, don’t you, bella?”
He nudged her arm as he spoke. She looked back at him with a sigh.
“Yes, Melone. I will admit that I do.”
She replied, resting her head on his should Formaggio then spoke, standing in front of the lot of everyone.
“So, I guess we should begin, eh?”
You could hear Giacchio groan.
“I don’t even wanna be here. Why do I have to play?”
Formaggio furrowed his brows.
“We’re a Familia, Ghiacchio. You have to participate sometimes.”
“I’m nervous, if I’m honest.”
Pesci spoke nervously  after. Prosciutto had to comment after his brother.
“This is forceful abuse…”
He leaned back. Naomi chuckled at that.
“That’s a little dramatic, Prosciutto.”
She looked to Sorbet and Gelato, noticing they had been silent, as they usually were.
“And you two?”
Naomi spoke to them. They sat comfortably with each other, content. Sorbet replied.
“This’ll be fun.”
Gelato was next.
“I’m not complaining.”
Naomi couldn’t help but smile.
“Great, I’m glad we have every-.”
“Everyone?”
You heard a deep voice come from behind you and your heart seemed to skip a beat. You looked behind you to see Risotto.
“You’re serious? You wanna play?”
Formaggio spoke, surprised. Risotto shrugged.
“I’ll play. I deserve a break.”
He replied. Naomi was just surprised, if not more.
“This is a nice surprise.”
Her smiled remained, trying not to grin.
When Risotto came to sit, Illusso moved out of the way, but Risotto spoke up.
“Don’t be stupid. You can sit next to me.”
He assured him. Illusso returned to the seat, It was obvious he wasn’t exactly comfortable, but he’d have to get over it. Formaggio spoke.
“Okay, looks like we’re ready. Who wants to go fi-?”
“I got this.”
Illuso was the first to speak, no surprise there. Formaggio nodded before sitting next to Gelato and Sorbet. Illuso looked to Naomi and she sighed. Of course.
“So, Naomi…”
He smirked, pausing momentarily.
“Truth or Dare?”
Naomi crossed her arms and thought for a moment. Though it didn’t take her long.
“Truth.”
Illusso nodded.
“Ah, I’m guess you think that’s the safe choice, huh?”
His smirk only grew and Naomi groaned.
“Well shit, what is it then?”
Illusso leaned forwards.
“How many people have you slept with?”
His voice was weirdly ominous. Another groan left her, and she reached for a shot, pouring herself some Jack Daniels. Everyone let out small groans. Melone spoke.
“Oh, come on, bella…it will only get worse from here, you know?”
Naomi blinked at that before downing the shot anyway, wiping her mouth, setting the glass down.
“My turn, yes?”
Fromaggio nodded.
“That’s how it works.”
She clapped her hands together before scanning the room. She landed her eyes on Prosciutto and smiled. He glared at her, but the look didn’t faze her.
“Truth or Dare, blondie?”
She was exited. Prosciutto rolled his eyes.
“Fuck it…Dare.”
Naomi hummed at his choice, thinking. She put a finger to her chin. She then smirked.
“Give Formaggio a hickey.”
Prosciutto widened his eyes before scoffing.
“No goddamn way…”
He did the same as Naomi did with the last question, refusing. Naomi leaned back.
“Lame-ass…”
She muttered. Prosciutto shot her a look, mouth still full before he swallowed violently.
“Repeat that, please…”
“Now, now-let’s keep it going. No getting pissy.”
He motioned to Prosciutto then. It was his turn.
“Fine then, Naomi-.”
“Nope, gotta do someone else.”
Formaggio informed him of the rule. Prosciutto pinched the bridge of his nose before challenging Ghiacchio, which was risky, but he did it anyway.
Some members did as they were challened and some took shots. Nothing too crazy had gone on considering everyone kept choosing truth. All the questions were either perverted, about violence, or just plain stupid. Risotto had not been challenged yet until Formaggio dared to do so.
“Capo…Truth or Dare?”
Risotto lifted his head and lifted his brows, finally intrigued.
“Dare.”
He chose rather quickly. Formaggio grinned then, scanning the room before his gaze landed on Naomi. Her heart skipped a beat and she shook her head slowly, trying to be discrete.
“I dare you to…”
“Do what she did to me,”
Prosciutto spoke up, looking to Naomi as she did him. She was not alright at this point…. her and the rest were tipsy as hell, including her, and this was making things worse. She didn’t  have to worry though. Risotto would drink.
“I dare you to give Naomi a hickey.”
The words that left Formaggio still shocked her. She let out a breath but acted nonchalant. She saw Risotto lean forward and let out a sigh of relief, but when he stood…she froze. She put her hands up in defense.
“H-Hey, I didn’t agree to this!”
She stared at Formaggio. He chuckled.
“You’re playing, aren’t you? You gonna quit?”
She swallowed as Risotto got to her and Melone, motioning for him to move, which he did; going to sit in Risotto’s place. Risotto spoke,
“You scared or something?”
Those words nearly made Naomi whimper, but she shook her head, scoffing lightly.
“Oh, please…no...”
She kept her voice steady.
“Alright then.”
Risotto leaned in and moved Naomi’s hair away from her neck, placing his lips on it’s side.
“Nice.”
Illusso snickered. Prosciutto smiled and the others just stared intently.
When Risotto began to suck at her skin she squeezed her thighs together and gripped her pants. She then gasped when she felt risotto’s tongue on her skin.
“Hey! That’s not-.”
“Nope-I don’t think he’s done.”
Formaggio told her, shaking his finger. Risotto removed his mouth soon after.
“Holy fuck!”
Formaggio immediately got up from his seat to come observe. Naomi was quick to cover it with her hood.
“No way, leave me alone!”
She put her hood all the way up. Prosciutto was chuckling.
“Show the class, Naomi…we all wanna see.”
She looked over at Risotto who had the lightest of smirks on his face.
“Well, now I’m offended.”
He told you. Naomi felt defeated. She let her hood fall back down and tilted her head to reveal her neck.
“That is…really something…”
Everyone walked over. It was overwhelming. Melone reached his hand over to touch it and Naomi pulled back when he put pressure on it. She hissed.
“Hey! It hurts!”
She glared at him. Sorbet spoke.
“That means he did it right, you know?”
Gelato gently rested a hand on Risotto’s shoulder.
“Impressive.”
Pesci had to comment,
“I wouldn’t expect anything less from our Capo-.”
“GUYS..Fuck off! Would you?”
She covered her neck back up, completely flushed. Everyone sat back down with a smiled on their face.; it was now Risotto’s turn.
“Nami…”
He spoke her name and she was hesitant to look at him, but she managed. He lost his smirk and spoke.
“Truth or Dare?”
He asked her. She swallowed and looked around at everyone. They had expressions of anticipation. She looked back at him.
“Truth.”
She answered. Risotto gave a nod and raised his brows.
“How many people have you slept with?”
Was his question. She groaned and shook her head and went to reach for a shot, but Risotto took ahold of her arm.
“Answer.”
His eyes were fixated on her and she sighed.
“Three.”
She finally answered and looked away. Everyone gasped.
“Only three? You?”
“Fuck off, Illusso.”
Naomi spat at Illusso.
“No reason to be embarrassed, leave her be.”
Melone smiled at her, voice sweet.
“Not very experience then?”
Formaggio had to add. Naomi went to get up, ropes wrapping around Formaggio’s arms.
“Naomi.”
Risotto put a a hand to her chest.
“You said you wouldn’t disappoint me.”
He told her. Naomi growled and sat back down, ropes disappearing from Formaggio’s arms. Naomi then smiled sarcastically.
“Okay, Formaggio, truth or dare?”
She asked eagerly. Formaggio was speechless for a moment before answering.
“Truth.”
He answered. Naomi’s smile grew.
“Ah yes, the safest route…well…”
She finally smirked.
“Whose cock would you rather suck, Illuso’s or Prosciutto’s?”
She was confident in her question. Formaggio’s eyes widened and he looked between the two in question before reaching for a shot glass.
“Formaggio, answer it.”
Risotto ordered. Naomi snickered, leaning forward.
“Who is it? We’re waiting.”
Formaggio let out a shaky breath before putting his face in his hands. What he mumbled was inaudible.
“What was that? Speak up.”
Naomi put her hand next to her ear, trying to listen. Formaggio did speak up.
“Prosciutto…”
Everyone gasped and Naomi began to chuckle.
“Yes, you would, wouldn’t you?”
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Formaggio spat. Naomi shrugged and looked away from him, done talking.
“You bi-.”
“Just don’t, Formaggio.”
Prosciutto interrupted him, trying to save his compatriots.
And that was when the game continued for just an hour, No one really came for Naomi at that point except for Prosciutto, who finally had his chance to get back at her himself.
“Naomi-”
“Great, truth again….”
She already knew. She wanted to get it over with. Prosciutto leaned back in his seat, reaching for a cigarette. Well damn…he had something up his sleeve.
“Whose cock would you suck? Melone’s or Risotto’s?”
Naomi widened her eyes and shook her head.
“N-Nope-absolutely not…”
“Lame-Ass…”
Prosciutto slyly spoke, lighting his cigarette. Clever bastard. She was going to reach for a glass, but she let out a breath. Everyone was eager to hear her answer. She leaned her head back on the couch and groaned.
“Risotto…”
She replied finally. Everyone was silent. She was thankful that Risotto didn’t say anything, though Melone did.
“Cara, I’m heartbroken.”
Naomi managed to lift her head and speak to him.
“Melone, you come straight after he does, don’t be offended.”
Prosciutto began to chuckle.
“There it is. So… you’re not afraid of anything.”
He spoke with his eyes closed. Naomi scoffed.
“Like hell I am, you shit. You better be glad I like you.”
She tried to force herself not to smile, but she did. Gelato spoke.
“The first woman I’ve met with a pair of balls.”
He nuzzled his head against sorbet’s. Ghiacchio spoke.
“I wish I could do something like that…”
He was resting his elbows on his knees. Naomi replied to him.
“Decide who’s cock you would suck?”
She chuckled and Ghiacchio widened his eyes, staring at her wildly.
“NO…NOT that.”
Ice began to form on the table, freezing the glasses.
“Ghiacchio.”
Risotto spoke his name darkly and the ice immediately dissipated.
“Sorry, Risotto.”
He apologized, calming himself.
“SO…who wants to end the game?”
“ME.”
Everyone spoke at the same time except for Risotto.
“I’m going to bed…fucking Christ, you people.”
Naomi got up and sighed.
“What do you mean ‘You people’?”
Formaggio put his hands on his hips as he spoke. Naomi just gave him the finger and walked away, something she often did. She yawned when she arrived at her room…drunk and ready to sleep away the pain, though first came the bathroom.
She removed her jacket and other garments before putting on what she normally slept in. A tank top and shorts. She padded her way to the bathroom and closed the door after entering.
She went to the sink and gave her hands a wash before she looked up the mirror. She gasped when she saw her neck.
She’d not seen anything like it before. The uneven red and purple marks on one single part of her neck were clearly visible and intense. It almost seemed as if blood vessels had been broken. If Risotto had sucked any harder, he may have done just that.
She touched it and hissed. It was sensitive and rather large. She’d have to use makeup to cover it up, though that probably wouldn’t do the trick.
She jumped when she heard a banging on the door. It was Ghiacchio.
“I gotta take a leak. You done changing your tampon?”
Naomi rolled her eyes and replied.
“Just brushing my teeth, hold it!”
She called, doing as she said she would. There was something she had to admit now…
The night was pretty fun.
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wri0thesley · 7 years
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👀 Do you have any La Squadra headcanons as to how they would react to or who would most like what I've only heard called a 'boob hug'? Pretty much it's just a hug where the gal hugs the guy (usually their face) against her breasts. Like the female member of La Squadra doing it on purpose just to see their reactions thanks hon
beneath the cut, friend!!
Formaggio is very pleased to be pulled into this kind of hug; he makes a big deal of enjoying it, moaning against them and looking up and wiggling his eyebrows - when she finally lets go of him he seems loathe to leave, shooting her a wink and a “are you sure you don’t want to give me another one?”
Illuso is more able to get ahold of himself than Formaggio - though he definitely enjoys the hug (and shoots her a sly smile when he’s released) he doesn’t make a fool out of himself when it’s over. He does, however, smile and say - “Perhaps somewhere a little more private next time, hmm?”
- Pesci automatically becomes an awkward blushing mess - he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, he just kind of stands there and lets her do whatever it wants, and when she’s done hugging him she gives him a pat on the head and has to try and shoo him away before he just faints on the spot. 
- Prosciutto would like to think he’d be very calm and composed when this happens to him, but he would be dead wrong. He manages to not do anything embarrassing whilst captured in the hug, but afterward he has to press his lips together and turn away from her so she doesn’t see the blush on his high cheekbones. 
- Like Formaggio, Melone isn’t afraid to let her know that he’s very much enjoying being held against her breasts. He’s more adventurous than Formaggio, wrapping his arms around and perhaps giving her butt a squeeze, hands roaming all over her body - finally coming to rest on her hips as he imagines how good they’d be for bearing children. “Feel free to do that again any time, amore!~”
- Ghiaccio is another who becomes an awkward mess - but instead of silence, like Pesci, he begins to babble. He thinks that whatever he’s saying is incredibly cool and interesting, but it’s not - if she begins to laugh at his discussion about colloquialisms relating to the female bosom, Ghiaccio will not be pleased.
- Risotto remains calm and stoic even as he’s pulled into the hug - he might give her a stern glare to remind her that he’s the leader and ought to be treated with respect. It won’t be until she’s apologized and left the room that Risotto lets loose the breath he’s been holding in and allows himself to think about how soft she was. 
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