#risotto reader insert
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Blood Red String of Fate (Yandere Risotto x Reader)
Scenario: The reader discovers that they are Risotto’s soulmate. Risotto is thrilled. The reader is not.
Warnings: Yandere themes, canon typical violence, kidnapping, attempted self harm, forced relationship, and other “fun” stuff.
You thought that it was just a story; an urban legend spread between lovesick teens and desperate young adults. You never believed for a moment that the whole “red string of fate” thing was true. Soulmates didn’t exist. Relationships didn’t come into being from a whim of chance. You didn’t believe in destiny or naive notions of love at first sight. But all of that changed the day you woke up and found the seemingly endless crimson colored string tied to your pointer finger. It wasn’t endless, of course. You knew that it was attached to the finger of your soulmate (something that you believed to be a fairy tale only a day before). It horrified you, not because you had an aversion to love or the idea of it. It was just that you believed that love should be something that is a mutual choice between two people. It should never be something that was forced onto people by fate. But that wasn’t what had you feeling like your stomach was doing cartwheels. You could actually sense the person on the other end of the string. You could feel their thoughts, emotions, and their very presence as if they were in the room with you. What you felt from them appalled you. You could feel their love for you and it almost had you returning the sentiment, but the warm feeling it gave you was overshadowed by the strong possessiveness that you felt, too. This person, whoever they were, genuinely thought that the string being attached to you meant that they owned you. Not only that, but you could feel an overwhelming blood lust and violence coming from them. Whoever your soulmate was, they were dangerous and the thought of being with them did not appeal to you. As far as you were concerned the two of you were not compatible, soulmate or not. You didn’t give a damn what fate or destiny had to say about it.
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Risotto stared at the red string tied to his finger. He didn’t know how to feel about it at first, but once he sensed you on the other end of the string, it stirred in him an uncontrollable obsession. He never asked to be attached to you, but now that he was, he wanted you. He couldn’t imagine life without you. It wasn’t enough to be bound to you, though. No. He needed you by his side. He had to find a way to bring you to him. It was strange, Risotto never imagined himself to bother with a significant other. He always felt that it would be too dangerous and an inconvenience to him as a member of Passione. Suddenly finding out that he had a soulmate was a bit bizarre. It didn’t matter. Now that he was connected to you, he could feel what kind of person you were. You were everything he needed, everything he desired. He found himself craving you the way a starving man craved food. He truly felt that if he didn’t bring you to him soon, then he would die. He had to have you here. NOW!
“Boss? Whatcha starin’ at your hand for? Didja get hurt?”
The voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked up to see Formaggio looking at him with concern.
The others couldn’t see the string. No one knew of the bond that he shared with you. It gave him an odd sense of comfort and made him feel even more connected with you. You were meant for each other. No one else could interfere. No one could break the bond that he had with you. The obsession that he felt for you grew even greater knowing that.
“I’m fine.” Risotto answered his subordinate. He glanced at the string, following it with his eyes as it ran along the ground and out of the room. He could follow it and it would lead him right to you. He could find you easily. He could…
Risotto shot up from his chair and yanked his hand into the air, effectively pulling at the string. He could feel you just then. You were about to do something awful, but he managed to put a stop to it. He glared down at the string as if he was glaring at you. Why would you ever attempt something like that?!
“Boss?” Formaggio asked, giving his Capo a concerned look. “What was that about?”
Risotto didn’t acknowledge him right away. He gave the string another pull. He wasn’t completely sure how the string worked or what he could do with it, but he quickly figured out he could send his very will through it somehow. He did that just then, to stop your foolishness. It was clear that he couldn’t put off meeting you any longer.
“Get in contact with the others. Tell them that I’m going to pay someone a visit.” he said suddenly.
“Huh? What?!” Formaggio cried in confusion.
He watched as Risotto passed him by and left the room. Formaggio clambered up from the sofa and trailed after him.
“Wait a minute!” he called. “You’re leaving now? Who’re you gonna visit? Is this a mission? Ain’tcha gonna tell me anything?”
“This is a personal matter.” Risotto said, his tone implying that Formaggio should stop asking questions. “I won’t be gone long, but I have to leave immediately. Continue with business as normal until I get back.”
“Wait!” Formaggio said, trying once more to reason with his Capo. “Shouldn’t you tell the others this yourself? Why do you have to run off in such a hurry?”
Risotto turned his red gaze on his subordinate.
“I trust you to let them know that I’m gone. Just tell them that I had an emergency that I needed to tend to. I’ll explain when I get back. I have to go now, Formaggio.” he said.
And with that Risotto left the building. Formaggio stood staring at the door wondering what was going through his Capo’s mind. Risotto was a mysterious guy, but he was acting very strangely all of a sudden. He thought about it for a moment longer before throwing his hands up and turning away from the door.
“Eh. Can’t be helped. Orders are orders. Guess I’ll let the others know.”
---------------
You’d tried everything. You tried cutting the string with scissors, a knife, or any other sharp thing you could find. You even tried biting through it. Nothing would cut the string. There was only one alternative that you could think of for ridding yourself of the unwanted bond with your equally unwanted soulmate. If you couldn’t sever the string, then you would simply sever the finger that it was tied to. God, you didn’t want to do it, but what choice did you have?
Every moment you spent bonded to your soulmate, you could feel more and more of what kind of person they were. They were a killer. They’d killed a lot of people and you could tell that they would kill a lot more. It would be just your rotten luck to be stuck with a murderer as a soulmate. You knew that they could sense you and you hated it. You didn’t want a killer knowing as much about you as you did about them. You wanted them gone from your life. So you would disconnect from them. With luck, once the deed was done, they would just think that you died or something and wouldn’t seek you out.
You set some medical supplies to the side, to be ready to deal with your self inflicted injury. The plan was simple enough. You would cut off your finger, ridding yourself of the bond, then you would quickly patch up your injured hand, wrap and place your severed finger in a container full of ice you had set alongside the medical supplies, then call 911 and have them take you to the hospital where you could hopefully have your finger reattached. You had no idea how you would explain what happened to you. If you told them you cut off your finger to disconnect the bond with your soulmate, they’d have you committed. So you would have to think of something more normal to tell them. An accident cutting food maybe?
Hesitantly, you paced your finger on the edge of the kitchen counter. You held the knife in your other hand. Suddenly a thought occurred to you. What if you didn’t cut it off in one chop? What if your strength wasn’t enough to cut through the bone? What if the knife wasn’t sharp enough? What would you do then? You glanced at the knife. It seemed very sharp. Still, it would require some level of strength to cut through the bone. Oh God! What if you had to saw through the bone with another tool? The thought of the prolonged agony made you feel queasy. You could feel the color draining from your face and you swayed on your feet slightly. You shook your head. Determinazione! That’s what you needed now. You had to suck it up and deal with the pain. This was the only way you knew to deal with this.
You raised the knife high over your finger. You took a few deep breaths and mentally hyped yourself to do what needed to be done.
Don’t think about the pain. Don’t think about the blood. Think about being stuck bonded to a murderer. You thought to yourself.
You let out a cry of resolution and raised the knife even higher.
Suddenly there was a powerful yank on the string that pulled your hand away just as the knife came down on the counter. The blade sank into the countertop, leaving a notch in the Formica. Yeah, that blow definitely would have cut through the bone. Too bad something stopped you. You grabbed the knife by the handle and tried to pull it from the countertop. You managed to pull it free but the string was tugged again with much more force this time. The action caused you to lose your hold on the knife. It fell into the sink as you were yanked nearly to the ground. You fell to one knee in an attempt to regain your balance. You yanked your arm backwards only to find that it wouldn’t budge. The string was somehow pulled taut and you were practically being dragged across the floor.
“STOP PULLING ON ME, ASSHOLE!!!” you shouted, anger in your voice disguising your terror.
The pulling stopped and the string went slack again. They stopped you! Whoever was on the other end of the string knew that you planned to chop off your own finger to sever the bond with them. They didn’t want you to disconnect from them! Why? Did they really put value in the bond? Didn’t they know that you had no interest in them? Why would they bother? It was madness!
Suddenly you could feel a strange sensation through the string. It was as if your soulmate’s presence felt stronger somehow. You couldn’t understand it, until you realized… they were getting closer to you! They were coming for you! Well you wouldn’t be there when they arrived. You jumped up from the kitchen floor and ran to your room. Quickly, you packed a few clothes and other essentials. You didn’t know where you would go, but you weren’t going to fall into their grasp no matter what!
---
Risotto stared down at the string on his finger as he sat in the back of a cab. He allowed himself a small, bitter smile. You were a fool. Did you really think that you could escape him? Apparently so, because he could sense you moving away from him. It was frustrating, but it didn’t matter. He would find a way to get to you before you got too far away. The problem was that you could sense how far away he was from you at all times. Did you really mean to stay on the run from him for as long as he tried to pursue you? What if there was a way that he could hide himself from you? An idea came to him. He asked the cab driver to drop him off at the next block. The driver did as told and drove away. Risotto looked around. He was standing outside of a vacant lot. It seemed that this was an abandoned part of the city. Good. He could experiment here with no one around to intrude. It was a long shot, but if he used Metallica’s ability to camouflage himself, he might be able to disguise his presence at his end of the string. Risotto activated his Stand’s secondary ability and waited. He could feel you on your end of the string. You stopped pulling away from him. He began to follow the string, half expecting you to start pulling away from him again. You never did. You were staying put. He followed the string until he was in a better part of town. Still, you didn’t move. It worked! As long as he stayed invisible, you couldn’t sense him! You were as good as his!
----
You had just driven into an unfamiliar part of town when you felt the presence at the other end of the string disappear. What happened? Did they die? Did they disconnect the bond? No, you could still see the string wrapped around your finger. Maybe they just stopped following you? You sighed. Thank the Lord. In the distance you spotted a sign for a hotel. You would stay there for the night and think about what you were going to do in the morning. You pulled into the hotel and walked into the office, dragging your bag along with you. You got yourself a room and collapsed on the bed there. You’d been running from your soul mate for days now. Why did they just stop following you? Did they give up? Did they realize that you weren’t interested in them? What was their game? You had only planned to stay at the hotel for the night, but decided to stay there until you felt that it was safe enough to return home. That was only if your soulmate didn’t decide to start following you again.
That night, you dreamed of a man in a strange black costume resembling that of a jester, with white hair and red eyes with black scleras. You seemed to know each other, but you couldn’t remember from where. You were afraid of him, but you weren’t sure why.
----
Risotto strolled into the parking lot of the hotel you were staying in. He was overwhelmed with joy at having tracked you down, but he would have to be careful from here on out. If you got so much as an inkling that he was nearby, you would start running again. He couldn’t allow that. Not when he was so close. He’d been walking for ages, sleeping in hotel rooms that he broke into and stealing food. If anyone got too nosey about his invisible activities, they met a swift and horrible end. He was exhausted having to travel on foot (an invisible man couldn’t flag down a taxi after all), but it was all worth it now that he finally tracked you down.
He followed the string until it led under the door of a certain room. Your room. He grinned at the feeling of your presence on the other side of the door. You were sleeping, so he would have to be quiet. Using Metallica’s magnetism, Risotto unscrewed the screws around the doorknob to your room. He was thankful that the hotel was an older one that hadn’t yet converted to the use of keycards. The door knobs popped out of their sockets and clattered to the ground. Risotto froze, afraid the sound would wake you. He was relieved that he could still feel that you were asleep. Carefully, he opened the door and let himself in.
He spied your sleeping form on the bed. He smiled fondly at you before coming out of his camouflaged state. There was no point in hiding from you anymore. Abruptly, you sat up in bed, gasping and sobbing.
----
What a horrible dream. You’ve been having nightmares about the strange man with the scary eyes ever since you started staying at the hotel. The dream was always the same, the man would corner you somewhere, tell you that you knew each other, then try to drag you off somewhere you didn’t want to go. If you weren’t sure before, you were certain now, that man in your dreams was your soulmate. He had the same aura you felt at the other end of the string. The same aura of blood and death that you felt so strongly that it caused you to wake up in a panic… The same aura that you could still feel as if it were in the room with you at that very moment.
You turned to face that overwhelming presence you could sense nearby and your blood ran cold.
“You!” you gasped. “It’s you!”
The man took a step towards you, smiling sweetly. You cringed away from him, pulling the bed covers up as if they could shield you from him.
“How did you find me without me sensing you?” you demanded.
“Not important,” he said in a deep voice that would have had your heart fluttering in any other situation. “What matters now is that we are finally together, as fate intended.”
“To hell with fate and to hell with you! I want nothing to do with you! Now get out of my room before I call the police!”
The man laughed at your poor attempt at bravado.
“You can fight it all you want, but you and I will be together no matter what.”
You jumped up from the bed and made an attempt to run out the door, but he stepped into your path and you ended up in his crushing embrace.
“Let go of m-- mph!” your demands were silenced by one of his massive palms covering your mouth.
You struggled in his hold but he was far stronger than you. You could barely move in his grip. Something sharp pierced your neck and you screamed into his hand. You struggled a moment more before dizziness overwhelmed you. Your limbs felt heavy and it became impossible to move them. Your vision grew blurry and you felt yourself going limp in his arms. Just before you passed out you heard him say,
“You tried to hurt yourself all because you didn’t want to be bonded to me. I couldn’t allow that. I know that you don’t want me as your soulmate, but I know that you can learn to love me. I’ll take you somewhere where I can keep an eye on you and make sure that you never try to hurt yourself, or sever our bond again. Whether you want it or not, you and I were meant to be. You should know by now that you can’t fight fate.”
#jjba#jojo's bizarre adventure#jojo no kimyou na bouken#reader insert#yandere jojo#jojos bizarre adventure#yandere jojo's bizarre adventure#yandere jjba#jojo x reader#yandere jjba x reader#yandere risotto#yandere risotto nero#risotto x reader#yandere risotto x reader#jjba golden wind#golden wind#jjba part 5#jojo part 5#jjba vento auero#vento aureo#soulmates#red string of fate
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The Outlaw Torn
Pairing: Risotto Nero x GN!Reader
Summary: "The more I search, the more my need for you / The more I bless, the more I bleed for you."
Risotto Nero reflects during a rainy day, all while trying to avoid the way everything reminds him of you.
Rating: SFW
Word Count: ~1.3k
Notes: Risotto Nero you will always be famous <3 enjoy some pining Risotto who broods for you. Title based off 'The Outlaw Torn' by Metallica. No spoilers, pre-VA, reader is GN.
AO3 link here!
Napoli during this time of year rains plenty. The smell of the rain against the stone roads makes him pause and inhale deeply. A young child accidentally brushes past him, clinging to her hat as she carries a roll of bread from the nearby bakery. He glances to the other side of the road and notices a businessman holding an umbrella and jogging while he clings to his business papers, some of which were flying behind him.
Napoli is full of life, even in the rain, something you taught him. Every lesson he learns from you, he keeps close to his heart. He closes his eyes, just letting the rain drench him. A bike bell rings as he feels a draft of air zoom past him. A young boy swears at him in Italian for just standing there, but he does not move or even flinch.
Napoli is beautiful, but it will never be as beautiful as you. It will never be enough, not in the way you were.
But he knows why you are not here, by his side, with him, for him. He opens his eyes and looks at his reflection in a window on at a small jewelry store.
Black sclera… red eyes… those are his most standout and defining traits. You said they were entrancing, that you wanted to look at them for a long time- something he didn’t usually allow. But for you, he could spare the time and have you appreciate his form.
The jewelers were releasing a new type of ring and diamond cut for the season. A teardrop shape to recognize the rainy season in Napoli.
Would you like something like that?
His mind wanders briefly before he turns away and continues to walk back to the hideout.
Patience. Don’t think of such things yet.
It’s rather selfish, really. It is because of him that you did not get closer to one another.
Risotto Nero knows better than to let his emotions get the best of him.
But you, you are an anomaly that ruined him, took parts of him and held it hostage, refusing to give them back.
He almost wished for you to keep them so you could remember him, at the very least.
Risotto knows it’s in poor taste to pursue you, after all, what assassin would ever keep a living trace of their existence somewhere? Who would ever allow for someone to get so close to them? Who would allow a piece of their heart to be free outside and possibly get injured as collateral?
Selfishness, really, is what keeps him thinking about you. If he was the same 18 year old who mercilessly hunted and killed his cousin’s murderer, you wouldn’t even be on his mind. He wouldn’t have ever entertained such a thing. But twenty-something Risotto has admittedly grown softer- perhaps due to a combination of La Squadra and your continued presence in his life.
He knows you would wait for him forever if he asked. He knows that you love him too deeply, too much for him to ever deserve. He couldn’t have found a more devoted and loyal person in all of Italy if he tried. He knows that and it kills him in more ways than it has any right to.
But the Risotto in his twenties knows something his younger self would never know.
You shouldn’t be with him.
You should be free, loved by a man who can offer you safety, comfort, and an easy life that does not put you in danger at every turn.
Even though every drop of blood in his body rushes for you, even though he would gladly bleed out for you- you don’t deserve his bullshit, he reckons. Even though he yearns to hold you close, prays for a chance to call you his and his alone, he knows it’s for the best you’re not beside him.
He can’t trust himself around you. You make him want something beyond revenge or money or territory. You’ll be a distraction.
That’s what he tells himself over and over, because Risotto is a selfish man who only has one thing on his mind- power.
He’s too good at his job, too good at killing and ending lives for the sake of his mission. And yet, here he is, untrusted by that very same boss who orders him around, no territory to claim for his squad, and hardly any money from the drug trafficking in the streets. It pisses him off that due to his success, he cannot reap the rewards from his completed assassinations.
If he allowed himself to be swayed by you, he probably wouldn’t mind this arrangement and would continue to do as told.
But it’s quite a headache, he has to admit. He knows a few of the leaders even live in mansions by the shore or expensive penthouses and can overlook their territory. He has none of those, and it’s apparent with every passing day how little his boss thinks of him and his squad.
I don’t even need a mansion… I need that villa near the gardens and the shops below.
That villa has been your dream for a long time. He can remember the first time you absentmindedly pointed it out to him, wistfully sighing as you admitted you wanted it.
“My dear grandfather was friends with the owner, so we’d visit sometimes. It’s the most beautiful house ever.”
Risotto hadn’t ever cared about houses or decorations much, but after a curious look around the place at night, he had to agree that it is a nice home. It would be a lovely place to call his own, but more than that, it would have you, and that immediately made everything better.
Would you be happy in that home? Would you like to walk beside him to the marketplace below? Would you enjoy sitting on the veranda with him while you two drank cappuccinos in the morning?
These questions and the many what-ifs he would conjure up plagued him like this every day. He didn’t feel the cold rain pour down on him continuously, only thinking of you smiling at him in your shared villa. It was sunny in that dream, warm and loving. He didn’t mind the terrible weather now, even with how it soaked his clothes and chilled his bones.
He exhales and lets the rain wash over him more before he decides to continue walking back to the hideout.
He couldn’t see you yet. Not yet… he wasn’t ready. He didn’t have the influence he wanted- needed- to offer you what you deserved.
The walk to his place is somber and silent as Napoli is sheltered inside warm houses from the rain. He curses himself for encouraging you to stay away. The farther you are, the closer he wants you. The more he tells himself to stop, the more he wants to go. The more he tries to shield himself from these feelings, the more he falls deeper into these desires.
Just as he is about to cross the street, he glances to your house. It’s right there, a mere block from his hideout. So close, yet so far. He stops in front of your door, unsure if he should take the risk or make such a jump.
He’s torn, torn between protecting you from his lifestyle and keeping you bound to him as his love.
He aches for you, desires you, needs you. But he can’t say that without complicating everything. He swallows, ready to turn heel and continue to his home, to La Squadra and his dirty life.
Yet, for some reason, he finds himself stepping toward your door. It’s as if his body is on autopilot, forcing him, magnetizing him to you again. He sighs and makes a fist, rapping his knuckles against your door.
…Well… a few moments away from the rain is never a bad idea. Especially in Napoli, where life is beautiful all around.
#x reader#reader insert#jojo vento aureo#jojo x reader#jjba x reader#jjba imagines#risotto nero#risotto nero x reader
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Soft Hitmen | Risotto Nero x Reader
A bit of a tender moment.
The reader is effected by a stand that renders her weak.
Word count:
Soft Hitmen
You'd been misinformed, terribly so.
Seldom were the times when you encountered other stand users in your job that weren't colleagues, and in the case where they were your target, you had the intel that warned you.
- But not this time.
It was bad, but not much worse when you considered the fact that you’d screwed up even after your lecture.
It had been the three of you, Prosciutto, Risotto, and you out on the field with your eyes aimed at a certain, little hair-brained politician that had gotten too cocky and too much of a liability.
It would have been just you and Prosciutto, but Risotto was forced to oversee given the sloppy nature of your group’s last few operations.
"And why do you need to babysit us," Prosciutto grunted with a halfhearted glare, insulted by Nero's details of the mission. He'd never needed anyone to watch over him, even as a rookie, and he didn't think you needed anyone either.
"We didn't screw up," he added.
At his side you bit your tongue, feeling the same sourness, but not too bothered by the fact that your leader would join you, even from afar.
Risotto noticed the way your lips pursed, and hearing the blonde-haired male's complaint, his teeth grit hard before he took a step closer to you two, the way he looked down at you icy.
" He's had us on a tight leash for the past year..." he started, and you could only imagine the blood in his veins boiling. " And if that isn't bad enough our last two jobs haven't been our best," he reminds you two, an undeniable fact you wince at, much more when his voice has an even shaper edge than usual.
" If we keep this up, It's only a matter of time before he defiantly gets rid of us," he said lowly.
"- And What the hell does he expect, huh?" Prosciutto suddenly says, thoroughly peeved.
"Our cut of the pay is shit compared to everyone else..." He reminds Risotto. " for everything we do..." he added with deep huffs because it was true. You did the dirty work, and you hardly ever got anything back other than a stack of cash that was measily compared to the other guys.
-Not even a thank you was given.
And if that wasn't bad enough there were periods where you weren't needed at all.
"...Besides... we got it done," you pipe up in regard to the sloppy operations, but barely.
You didn't like arguing too much with your leader.
You knew it wasn't his fault, but every now and then you couldn't help voicing your own annoyances.
Risotto suddenly placed a hand on one of your shoulders, the strong grip surprising you enough to make you look up at the man that had his other hand on Proscuitto's opposite shoulder.
"We'll get our moment," he said simply, which meant so many things, but you could only think of one that would solve your every issue.
'One day...we'll kill him...and we'll take what we deserve,'
You hardly spoke of it, too shaken by what would occur if the Boss caught any wind of treason, but you had all silently agreed that it was the only way to breathe free.
-Especially after what he’d done to Sorbet and Gelato.
The gruesome memory still gave you cold shivers.
"But for now...we do our jobs, without failure. Without so much as a hitch," Risotto reminded you.
You were there because you had talents.
Because any fool could kill, but it took a special bunch to do so efficiently, without so much as a change in air that would hint at it being foul play.
You gave Risotto a fierce nod, and slowly, Prosciutto followed too, though with a little curl to his upper lip that displayed existing annoyance.
"Fuck..." you could barely speak, seized by terrible shivers that left you weakened and to your knees.
Proscuitto took hold of you, cradling you close, saving you from impact, and he watched over his shoulder as he saw your target leave with two of his bodyguards, one of which had rendered you to the state you were now.
The nearly vacant street let him catch a clear view, and he contemplated just letting you fall so he could take care of the job before risotto appeared beside you two, agitation evident in his face that you could barely witness through your impairing sight.
"It's a stand user...maybe two..." Proscuitto stated, having a suspicion the second guy was also one.
You then pushed him away, standing on unsteady footing as you glared in that direction too.
"We have to..." you said while taking a step in the direction before you fell to a knee, and as Proscuitto moved to you again, you, used your arm to ward him off, something he huffed at.
Hesitation was not one of his typical traits, but given that you were a woman, he'd always been just a tad bit gentler with you out of pure instinct, something you noticed.
Granted, eventually down the line he cared about you, but the initial consideration was due to that, and you were thankful for it.
Otherwise, he'd beat you around just as badly as he did Pesci.
Delirium hit you and your surroundings grew darker and murkier, and with a soft exhale, you stood back up on wobbly legs.
Shivering, you hugged yourself, backing up into the outstretched arm of your leader as he wordlessly caught you. Seeing your need to stand on your own, he made sure to grip you hard before his body came closer.
You craned your head back to look at the man but found it dreadful as your head felt too heavy and it hung back.
"Go..." Risotto told Prosciutto, trusting that now that he was aware of the retaliations, he'd finish the job himself.
The ashy-haired man doubted your assignment could go any further south, and he trusted Prosciutto to take care of it.
At that moment you hated yourself, much more with how feeble you felt.
"Please..." you start, and you find it in you to somehow move your body to face him, your hands daringly reaching out to take hold of his shirt, holding on with the last bit of strength that you could gather.
"- stay with me, " you tell him, breathing hard, batting your eyes at him pathetically. You practically have tears in them, and as he looks down, his own eyes slightly widen at the words.
You don't know why you say that, why the words just drip out of your drying mouth, but they do.
And perhaps it's because that's why you had wanted to tell him so many times before.
Like, that one time he'd lead you home after you'd all decided to have a few drinks at some crappy bar.
"I should have..." you incoherently think out loud, having thought of the moment so much, wishing you would have had the guts to invite him in to stay the night.
Meanwhile, Risotto could feel his heart race, thudding strongly in his chest.
He would have to pick each of your little fingers off of his top to go free, and the idea was unbearable.
And how could he?
the word of denial he wanted to strongly let loose was locked in his chest, unable to escape as he looked at you, finding your weakened state somehow enticing.
He had hardly ever seen you so desperate, and much more with that need directed at him.
You needed him ; an idea he'd never considered.
"Risotto..." The way you said his name had him feeling strange, and he felt his own desperation too, one that had him driven to cocoon you safely within his arms.
"Are you mad at me...?" you could hardly say it without a few tears welling in your eyes.
Disappointing him always felt like a punch in the gut...it was nearly unbearable.
Without a word he picked you up, easily doing so with his strong build, the question going unanswered as he moved in silence.
He headed towards the black-tinted car you'd arrived in, easing you down with a gaze that would have left you weak had you caught sight of it.
Warmth graced the scarlet orbs even as he shook his head in disapproval, leaving you resting on the back seat.
"Idiot..." he muttered.
- He should be.
"I am..." he added lowly as he leaned back on his seat, staring up at the car's roof in frustration.
Since when did hitmen become so soft, they stupidly stood as shields for other members, rendering themselves useless?
As he sat there in wait, he expected that when Prosciutto came back, he thanked you with something other than a half-assed mutter.
He watched you through the mirror, his gaze softening as he continued to watch your face form subtle expressions in your sleep, most of witch were short grimaces.
"Idiot..." he said again, his eyes closing while he waited, occasionally checking on you.
#risotto x reader#risotto nero x reader#risotto nero x reader insert#risotto nero x you#risotto nero x y/n#Risotto Nero#risotto x reader insert#JJBA fanfiction#jjba fanfic#JJBA Vento Aureo#JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Vento Aureo#vento aureo x reader#la squadra#la squadra fanfic#la squadra x reader#golden wind jjba#JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Golden Wind
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Aaand it's me part 2 ahaha
Okayokay so maybe an nsfw for la squadra where the reader just keeps teasing them all day, and so when they get home y'know, a classic ajsjsj (and I would love if reader and the la squadra members are already in an eatabilished relationship by the way) thank you so so much :)
i'm living for the la squadra thirst 😍 i'm thirsty for all of them
also sorry that some of these are longer than others oops
Teasing Them (La Squadra x Fem!Reader)NSFW!
warnings: nsfw and sexual content below the cut!
☆ Risotto ☆
You had been getting on his last nerve all day. Even despite his calm and collected demeanor, you could tell he was starting to get annoyed
All day while the two of you had been out running errands, you had been teasing him. You had been doing everything you could to get him worked up, rubbing circles in his thigh, bending down to pick things up in front of him, and making suggestive comments
He's not stupid, he knew exactly what you were trying to do. Right now he may be acting nonchalant, but he had your whole punishment planned out for when you got home
As soon as you walked in the door of the base and shut it behind you, he grabbed your throat and slammed you against the door
"You've been teasing me all day, puttana. Don't think I didn't notice. I'm gonna give you exactly what you've been begging for all day. On your knees, now." He growled, making the heat pool between your legs
He fucks your face hard, with the force of all the pent up aggression that had been building up all day
He loves to see your tears rolling down your cheeks and hear you gagging on his cock. To him, it's the perfect punishment for teasing him all day
☆ Prosciutto ☆
You were driving him insane. All he wanted was for you to be patient while he tried to get some work done, and you couldn't even do that.
He had been sitting at his desk in his office, trying to work on some paperwork for Risotto, until you decided to come in and interrupt
Normally he didn't mind if you sat in the room quietly while he worked. He actually enjoyed the company. But today was different. You had walked in the office wearing some very skimpy lounge shorts, trying to distract him
You had been leaning all over his desk and giving him those puppy-dog eyes, and although he usually found the sight adorable, right now it was getting on his nerves. He had very important work to do!
"Tesoro, what have I told you about bothering me while I'm working?" he says gently, yet sternly.
"Babyyyyy, can't you just take a break real quick?" You whine, making him even more irritated
"On your knees. Now." He growls, pointing underneath his desk. You quickly follow his instructions
"Damn slut. Can't even wait for me to be done with my work. Now you're gonna stay down there with my cock in your mouth until I'm finished." He spat while he unzipped his trousers and pulled out his already hard cock
He warns you not to touch yourself while you suck him off either, or else you're really gonna get punished
He keeps you down there for at least an hour before he's done
He's a man of his word, and you learn that pretty quickly
☆ Formaggio ☆
The two of you were on a mission together, hunting down a stand user from a rival gang
Since you had been spying on this person, it was critical that you stay quiet and not be seen
You knew the mission was serious, but your boyfriend just looked so good today. I mean he always looked good, but today there was just something different
You couldn't help yourself from touching him any chance you got. Grabbing onto his arm, climbing into his lap, and running your hands all over his chest
"Babe, what's gotten into you today?" He asked when you gave a particularly intimate kiss to his neck
Normally he would love you acting like this, but right now just wasn't the time. You two were on important business, it was no time to be messing around. Not to mention, the two of you had already been warned by Risotto about being too distracted when you went on missions together.
"y/n, baby, I love you but this is gonna have to wait till later. We could seriously get killed if we're not careful here." He said sternly.
You knew he was right but you still couldn't help yourself, continuing your comments and touches
You could tell he was getting irritated
"Babe, I told you to wait. This is important," He said, grabbing your wrist tightly.
He was getting so annoyed because you were really turning him on. He wanted to finish the mission successfully and make it back with a good report to his capo, and you were making it so hard for him
Eventually, he couldn't take it anymore and snapped
His grip on your wrist tightened, and he dragged you into an alleyway
"You wanna act like a slut? Then you'll get treated like one." He picks you up and slams your back against the brick wall
He moves your panties to the side, and fucks you hard, taking out all of the day's frustrations out on you.
"I better not hear a single peep out of you." He growls, slapping his hand over your mouth to silence your pitiful moans and whimpers while he fucks you
☆ Ghiaccio ☆
He hated when you got all needy like this
Well, he secretly liked it, but it got on his nerves when you acted like this around the other la squadra members
You had all been in the main lounge-area of the base, watching a movie together
You were, of course, sitting with your boyfriend, Ghiaccio. The two of you had one of the small couches to yourself, and were cuddled up under a blanket as you watched the movie
However, you weren't really interested in the movie. You were much more interested in your blue-haired boyfriend sitting next to you
He was watching the movie intently, clearly interested in the plot
You decided it might be fun to tease him a little bit
You started to rub on his thigh with your hand under the blanket, moving teasingly close to his dick
He turned to you and angrily whispered "What the fuck are you doing, troia?"
You played dumb, cocking your head sideways and saying "Hm? What do you mean?"
This pissed him off worse. "You know what you're doing. Quit." He spat
You could feel his dick already getting hard in his pants, which fired you up even more
His face was turning bright red, and his brow was furrowed in frustration
"I'm going to my room, your ass better meet me in there in less than 5 minutes." He growled, excusing himself from the others and going to his room
You waited a few minutes to follow him, not wanting to raise suspicion from the others
Once you get inside the room, he slams the door shut, pressing you against the doorframe
He grabs you by the wrist and throws you down on his bed
"You wanna act like a slut? Fine. You're gonna get used like one." He hissed. He grabs your pants and rips them right off of you, along with your underwear
Normally he would take time to prepare you, but right now all he can focus on is punishing you. How dare you try to embarrass him in front of the others like that???
He shoves his cock in you forcefully, completely using you to take out his frustrations, yelling insults in your face as he fucks you
☆ Illuso ☆
You had been clinging onto him all day, and he normally found it kind of cute, but today it was driving him nuts
He was already aggravated by a mission from the day before that went horribly. He had let his target get away, and failed to kill them like Risotto had ordered. He was furious at himself for making such a major mistake.
You had been trying your hardest to cheer him up, clinging to his side and giving him words of encouragement
Unbeknownst to you, however, this was only making his frustrations grow. He hated how you were all over him, trying to comfort him like he was a child.
He's definitely the type to want alone time when he's angry. He has to take time to sulk by himself in the mirror world and process his emotions.
So when you just won't leave him alone, it makes him angry. He feels like you're feeling pity towards him, and that's the last thing he wants
"Illuso, baby, why don't I make you some tea? You've had a rough day and--" You were cut off mid-sentence by him standing up abruptly and grabbing you by the wrist
"Y/n, I appreciate you trying to make me feel better. But please stop treating me like a child. I'm perfectly capable of handing this myself." He growled, making you tremble in fear
"I'm sorry, Illuso," you whimper, "I just wanna make you feel good after yesterday..."
"If you really wanna make me feel better," He says, "Then get on your knees and get to work." He has the most shit-eating, cocky smirk on his face while he says it
Fucks your face with the force of all of his built up anger
Cusses under his breath while he uses your throat, hands in your hair
Loves to see your tears and drool running down your face
It really does help him blow off some steam. Maybe he should use you like this more often!
☆ Melone ☆
Honestly, it takes a lot for you to make Melone angry or upset with you. He worships the very ground you walk on, and thinks you can do no wrong
However this particular night, you were making him insanely jealous, and in turn, angry as hell
Risotto had decided to have a little party at the base for team bonding, and to celebrate another successful mission
You had been having fun, having a few a lot of drinks and talking with your teammates
This isn't how Melone saw it though, as he sat on the couch and watched you. He saw it as you flirting with them, and them trying to get in your pants. He knows how men can be, and his teammates are no exception.
He couldn't stand it. The way you were leaning into them as you talked, smiling innocently and laughing at their stupid jokes. What the hell was so funny? Why were you having such a good time with them? (Granted, he also had a bit too much to drink, which was making him angrier and much more possessive than usual)
He got up off the leather couch, making his way over to you. He grabbed you by your wrist without a word, guiding you towards the bathroom.
He turned to his confused teammates before saying "Please excuse us for just a moment." In a snarky tone
"Melone? What's gotten into yo-" The bathroom door had barely shut behind the two of you and his lips were already slammed into yours
"Shut up. I see how you laugh with them. They all just want to get in your pants, can't you see that? They don't love you like I do," He snarled, making his way down to your neck and biting down hard
You yelped in surprise at the feeling. "What are you doing??"
"Im leaving my mark on you. I want them to know who you belong to," He growled, continuing to attack your neck
You'd be lying if you said you didn't find it extremely hot when he was jealous and angry like this
He slides your skirt down your legs, thrusting his hand down into your panties. He rubbed slow circles around your clit, making you moan in pleasure. You quickly tried to silence yourself to prevent the others from hearing
"Let it out, dolcezza. Let them know you're all mine. I want them to know exacltly what I'm doing to you in here."
He took his hand out and pulled your panties down around your ankles. He took out his hard cock and lined it up with your entrance, slamming into you, making you howl in pleasure as he fucks you senseless against the bathroom door
You know that all your teammates can hear everything, but in this moment, you can't even be bothered to care
#jojo#jjba#jojos bizarre adventure#vento aureo#golden wind#jojo x reader#jjba x reader#golden wind x reader#la squadra#la squadra di esecuzioni#la squadra x reader#la squadra headcanons#risotto x reader#risotto nero x reader#anime#x reader#self insert#jojo headcanons#jjba headcanons#prosciutto x reader#ghiaccio x reader#melone x reader#formaggio x reader#illuso x reader
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if you're a jjba selfshipper that writes top/dom reader and are an adult with your age in bio, please like this post!!! i'm trying to look for more self shippers to follow that primarily top in their self ship dynamic.
i love my mutuals who are bottom/subs, its just been hard to i guess relate to many sexual gushes or posts i see about self shipping lately and it's been making me feel increasingly lonely, i guess is the best way to put it? idk, but im agender as well so maybe that's got something to do with it too? i just constantly feel like an outsider looking in these days, without being able to properly articulate why.
ANYWAY! if you write top reader in the jjba fandom i'd love to follow you :D
#top reader#jjba self ship#jjba#reader insert#jojo's bizarre adventure#risotto nero#tagging him bc he's my fo and if you've written top reader with him i will literally propose to you right here and now#ok to rb as a signal boost! i would super appreciate it
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MV — yuck! (part III)
pairing(s): max verstappen x photographer!reader
summary: your aesthetic interest in max verstappen is purely professional, you swear.
fc: daisy edgar jones
a/n: enjoy pookies! happy miami day! i’ll be dead asleep when this posts but looking forward to waking up to sprint qual results and all the love you guys have been giving my smaus so far🥹
previous part ⭐️ next part
(instagram)
@ynusername just posted…
tagged @danielricciardo @maxverstappen1 @redbullracing
liked by @redbullracing @ysistersuser and others
ynusername happy now daniel?
user1 WOOO danny ric #1 in the carousel
user2 omg
danielricciardo I guess 😐
⤷ redbullracing not slutty enough?
⤷ ynusername oh my god not you too
⤷ danielricciardo Definitely not slutty enough
⤷ ynusername when will this joke end
user3 when are these from?
⤷ user4 media day at the miami gp
maxverstappen1 Lol
⤷ user5 has anyone noticed that he comments on basically all of her posts?
⤷ user6 dry ass comments though
⤷ user8 🤷🏼♀️ he’s still commenting, says something doesn’t it
(yn’s messages)
(twitter)
(instagram)
(yn’s messages)
(twitter)
(instagram)
🔒 @ynpersonal just posted…
tagged @maxverstappen1 @danielricciardo
liked by @ysistersuser @maxverstappen1 and others
ynpersonal RAHHH P1 and P2😭😭 i literally couldn’t be prouder of you two!!!!!! love u both to absolute pieces!!!
user1 Woahh good job!!
ysistersuser huh🤔
⤷ ysistersuser oh i mean CONGRATS GUYYSSS🏆🎉
user2 photos are incredible! did you take any?
⤷ ynpersonal yeah i took the ones of max and dan! the first one is from sky news’ twitter haha
maxverstappen1 Couldn’t have done it without you ❤️
⤷ ynpersonal SO SO proud of you maxie. it’s all you x
user3 amazing result! and a p3 for leclerc!
danielricciardo Where are you? Aren’t you coming out tonight? You can’t bail! Look how proud of us you are
⤷ ynpersonal YES dan christ im getting changed
(yn’s messages)
📸 can u tell i realised that u can insert more images on desktop😋 also pls ignore time stamps they mean nothing
taglist: @a-disturbing-self-reflection @evie-119 @taygrls @petrifying-risotto @bernelflo @spookystitchery @the-lynnie-the-pooh @illicitverstappen @stinkyjax @chezmardybum @dark-night-sky-99 @zucchinimalfoy @maxverstappendefender @xjval @persiar9 @personwhoisther @marymustdie @bearryyyy @nearlynadin @firelily-mimi @marvelfangirl04 @its-elias-world @youre-on-your-ownkid d @namgification (message me or comment if you’d like to be added to my tag list! ⭐️)
✨next part
#max verstappen#f1#formula 1#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen social media au#max verstappen smau#f1 x reader#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1 fanfic#max verstappen x photographer!reader
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Between a Rock and a Hard Place
Risotto x Reader
CW: Bodily injury, blood, vomit, Poisoning,dubious consent, Cucking(?)
Edit: Edited the title because it was too vague and generic sounding. 😖 Everything else is the same!
Features: technically it’s a Zeppeli!Reader fic but it’s only mentioned like once. Not a main feature of the fic so you can ignore that minor detail for your self inserts and OCs 🥰
⚠️ Here’s my biggest fic yet! And it’s gruesome it’s nasty and it’s bad. Please HEED the CONTENT WARNINGS!!! To skip the barf scene it’s separated by ///////s. NSFW MINORS DNI ⚠️
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Like this see?
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I hope y’all enjoy it. Writing smut was very fun but challenging! Well let’s gooooooo-
Having a devastating stand isn’t always what it’s cut out to be. Y/N had a very powerful stand but whenever they overexerted themselves they would get very sick and weak for a few days. Their power was radiation. Y/N has a high tolerance for radiation, for up to 3 times the lethal dosage, but they start feeling the illness from the 2 times mark. Y/N is used to this, this is a burden they must bear in order to serve the boss, and to protect Trish, the daughter of the boss.
Fighting off the La Squadra with the rest of the gang is wearing down Y/N. But Y/N has the Zeppeli blood inside them and knows it’s their duty to fight and protect till their very last breath. Y/N is determined to stay strong for Bucciarati and the others even when they are literally staring down their executioner at this very moment.
“Don’t assume I’m afraid to die. I’m willing to take you down with me.” Y/N glared up at their captor. They were intimidated by his black sclera and blood red irises but they weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of showing any fear.
“ Nice try. I know you can’t right now. Your body is still mending and you’re too weak to even try.” Risotto calmly answered.
“Now I’m going to ask you once before I decide to torture the answers out of you … where are you and bucciarati hiding the boss’s daughter?” He gave a fair warning before interrogating them.
“Eat shit. I’ll never tell you! Just go ahead and kill me because you’re just wasting your time!”
Y/N tried to move their arm to try and punch him but they couldn’t budge a damn inch. A clinking noise echoed in the basement reminding them how dire their situation was. Y/N was being held up by their wrists with metal cuffs. They couldn’t really tell at first because their whole body was sore and still groggy. Looking down their clothing was gone too except for their underwear. This just made them feel more small and exposed. Y/N wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of their embarrassment, they were going to stay strong. This wasn’t the first time they were nude in front of a stranger.
He chuckled quietly. “You’re just asking for it. Stay stubborn for all I care. I got all the time in the world.”
Y/N felt a sharp pain in their left breast and then something lukewarm started dripping down their chest. Y/N looked down in horror and saw a bloody sewing needle sticking out their breast. They wanted to wince but fought it back.
“I told you I would only give you one warning. I’m starting off easy on you since you’re AFAB but that’s not going to stop me from doing worse things to you.” He warned again.
“You’ll have to try harder than that. I’m used to being in pain.” They said shuddering.
“Really now? What should I do then… you used to be a cheap whore before Bucciarati took you off the streets. Maybe I should get my men in here and thoroughly use you. Or are you used to being a cumdump too?” He chuckled sadistically.
This struck a chord in them. Y/N is usually calm and confident but bringing up their past is just a huge kick to the gut. They don’t like their pride being shit on.
“Fuck you!” Y/N spat and used their free legs to try to kick him in the crotch.
He quickly caught their leg before they could make contact and then they felt an unbearable sharp white hot pain coming from their Achilles heel.
“Augh! No! Oh God!” They screamed in agony. They trembled and held back themselves from vomiting from the pain and peeked down at their right foot. There was a massive razor blade sliced open their Achilles heel. Their tendon was completely severed. Blood started to pool on the concrete floor making sickening dripping noises.
“The left one will be next…” he growled. “Now tell me, where’s the damn girl?”
“I said I will never tell you. Augh… She’s just a child. She didn’t ask to be the Boss’s daughter! If you want to find out the boss’s identity then be my guest. But I won't go against bucciaratis orders!” They defied him once more.
They could feel the same horrific pain coming from the left heel this time and they viscerally screamed at the top of their lungs. With both heels severed there’s no way for them to walk.
//////////////////////
The pain and the gruesome imagery was too much, they felt the intense wave of nausea hit and threw their head to the side and heaved. Feeling the burn from the bile of an empty stomach and the taste of blood from the radiation sickness still lingering, made them shudder and moan. Tears pricked their eyes from the horrible wave of events.
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Risotto was unbothered by the display of disgust. “Weak stomach huh? Poor thing. I’d bet you’d like some water to get that taste out of your mouth.” He low key teased.
“Yeah… I would like some water. But I know you are not a very accommodating host.” Y/N said while spitting in hopes of getting more of the taste out.
“You’re really loyal to bucciarati aren’t you? So much you’re willing to go through physical torture and still stand strong… hmm. I could just kill you since you’re refusing to cooperate but...” He said looking at Y/N very intently. He looked like a predator staring down its meal.
“I think I have a contingency plan in place. I’m going to use you as bait. Bucciarati is real soft on you isn’t he? Don’t act like you two aren’t intimate. I’m going to have him get you in exchange for the boss’s daughter.” He said smugly.
“He won’t do it! I won’t allow it! We are sworn to the boss’s orders to protect her!” Y/Ns cool was starting to crack a little. Bucciarati did love Y/N very much, but enough to screw the boss’s orders? No, of course not! Y/N had to put faith into Bucciarati and the rest of the guys that they will get them out of this situation.
“Oh we’ll see.”he chuckled darkly as he walked away for a minute messing with some kind of tripod camera. He had it aimed at a dirty old mattress. Y/Ns heart sunk into their stomach. They knew exactly what Risotto was up to.
“No… you can’t do that! Anything but that!” Y/N started to panic. They tried budging their restraints on their wrists out of desperation but it was just a waste of energy.
“It’s either me or all of my men at once. If you’re able to get knocked up you aren’t gonna know who the father is, and be humiliated by having several men’s cum all over you.” He warned giving Y/N their only 2 options. “So which option do you prefer?”
“I choose… you…” they said dejectedly.
“That’s my good Y/N.” He smirked. He walks up in front of them and frees them from the wall. Their aching wrists finally feel some relief.
“You said you were still thirsty right?” He asked.
“Uh yes I am…” as soon as they said that he picks them up and kissed them deeply.
“?!” Y/N gasps into the kiss out of shock and he takes that opportunity to shove his tongue into their mouth. Y/N didn’t fight back, they had to play along with him in front of the camera so bucciarati knows that they are in trouble.
Y/N licked back and sucked on his tongue. He groaned into the kiss and grinded his hips into theirs where they could feel him getting hard. He pulled back and dove back in and nibbled on their lips, hard enough to feel a little pain but not enough to break skin. Y/N did it back and then went to sloppy open mouth kisses with their tongues fighting their own battle. When they pulled back panting for air a string of saliva was connecting their lips.
He sat them on the mattress in front of him.
“Now show me how you keep bucciarati wrapped around your finger.” He said as spread his legs apart and undid his buckle and zipper.
Y/N is no stranger to servicing men or women. But the circumstances here made them a bit pink in the cheeks. This is the first time that they are going to be sucking the cock of their captor...and being filmed for it too as a ransom note.
“Please forgive me Bruno…” Y/N thought as they pulled the leader of La Squadras cock out. It was just as intimidating as the man himself. 9 and half inches uncut, very veiny, very girthy.
Y/N takes the twitching cock into their hand. It’s so massive that their tiny hand can’t fit all the way around it. Y/N gulps and musters the courage to open their plush lips apart and slowly put the tip in their mouth .
Their lips stretch apart as they have the whole tip in their hot mouth. Y/N sucks and laps at the head with their tongue, and they go deep down the shaft. They get a slow rhythm going bobbing their head up and down as slobber begins to pool from their mouth and over the cock.
“Fuck… Bucciarati is a very lucky man. You have to have done this very often. You’re very skilled.” He groaned, rubbing the back of their head. He was enjoying watching them struggle to take him in their mouth.
Y/N was getting a bit more comfortable so they ventured deeper, allowing more of his cock into their mouth and picking up some speed. They used their free hand gently to massage his balls . He threw his head back in response and let out a guttural moan.
He was in pure bliss, he couldn’t hold himself back anymore and grabbed their head and just started to buck up into their mouth. Y/N was getting their face fucked, they were gagging hard but tried to remain in control. The other girls who show them the ropes of prostitution said with oral alway remember to breathe through your nose and you’ll be okay, so they breathed through their nose as their face was getting fucked. They weren’t getting a lot of air but breathing through the nose helped with the gagging. Tears were flowing down their face and drool was dribbling down their chin as their face was being brutally fucked. Their face being buried in his pubic mound as fucked them hard made it more difficult to get air. Y/Ns vision was starting to get fuzzy.
“Y/N get ready I’m going to cum.” He panted.
Thank god.
Y/N was ready to receive his load. He quickly pulled out their mouth and came thick ropes onto their face and in their mouth. Some of it dribbled off their chin and onto their breasts.
“Swallow what I gave you.” He demanded.
Y/N showed the cum that splashed into their mouth and swallowed it. They opened their mouth and stuck their tongue out to show that they swallowed it all.
“Perfect . That’s my good Y/N.” He purred.
There was no way for Y/N to get on all fours due to the injuries he inflicted and he wanted to see their facial features as he splits them open. He shoves them down onto their back and they let out a weak oof.
They laid like a ragdoll on the makeshift bed as he looked down at their delicate body. He couldn’t believe that a weak person like them could cause such severe damage to a man triple their size.
They stared at the ceiling in a daze panting as they combed their fingers through their hair. Strands of hair came out between their fingers reminding Y/N that they still have radiation poisoning, as if the body aches and nausea wasn’t enough. Oh well… their hair grows back rapidly once the radiation fades.
He got on all four on top of Y/N, caging them in. He took one of his thick fingers and hooked it under the waistband of their underwear and pulled them down.
“These look good on you but they’re in my way.” He growled pulling them off completely bringing a shockwave of pain up their legs as it brushed up against their cut open heels.
“Shit…”they sharply inhaled trying to hold back the tears.
“Relax, I’m going to make you cry in another way real soon.” He grabbed their thighs and exposed their cunt to him. He stared them down and took one long lick from their perineum all the way up to their clit.
“!!!” Y/Ns body tensed up from the sudden warmth between their legs.
“You like that don’t you Y/N?” He purred and took another lick.
“Shit~”they shuddered in pleasure.
He bit hard on her right inner thigh leaving teeth marks. “Answer the question Y/N. Do you like it when I lick your slutty cunt?”
“Ow~!ok! Yes! I love it!” They shrieked feeling a jolt of adrenaline from the bite.
“Good Y/N… good things come to those who obey their capo.” He resumed lapping at their pussy. Oh man, he really was going to use this recording to get under bucciaratis skin isn’t he? He’s using all the tools at his disposal to disrespect Bucciarati, but also make him feel like he’s failed as a leader and as a partner.
“Right Y/N?”
“Hnngg… yes capo…” they moaned out. They knew they were betraying him and it breaks their heart, but they had to play along to survive and have faith that Bucciarati is going not only protect Trish but save them both.
“That’s right. I'M your capo.” He let out a sadistic snicker. He spread their lips and stuck a single finger inside their wet cunt. The intrusion felt pleasant, his finger was pretty thick. Very fitting for the hands of a man who murders for a living.
“Ah~” they whined, feeling the short lived pleasure. He stuck it in but he wasn’t moving. They looked up at him with confusion and concern in their puppy dog eyes.
“Beg for it and your capo will finger you good.” He smirked.
Begging? No way, Y/N has dignity! Y/N doesn’t beg for the enemy! But… the temptation is strong. Whether they like it or not, Risotto Nero is a very attractive man. And he already revved them up by eating them out, their cunt is drooling with want. Beg they must.
“Please capo! Please finger me!” They cried.
“Hmm… I don’t know. You don’t sound like you really want it.” He pondered while having a 2nd finger tease at the entrance.
“Please capo! I’ll be your whore! Your personal cumdump!” Tears ran down their face in frustration.
“Now we’re getting somewhere…go on. You almost convinced me.” He teased them further.
“Capo~! I’ll leave Bucciarati! You can keep me as collateral and do whatever you please with me!” They sobbed.
“That’s what I like to hear~ good Y/N. You finally know your place.” he praised them and shoved the 2nd finger in and started thrusting his fingers in and out of their weeping cunt.
“Oh ~ oh fuck~ Capo~” they mewled.
He laughed watching them weep in ecstasy.
“Does Bucciarati make you feel this good?” He asked thrusting and curling his fingers up to brush up against that soft sweet spot.
“…No… he doesn’t “ they cried. They felt a deep sense of guilt saying that, they knew Bucciarati knew it wasn’t true but even lying about it breaks their hea—
They felt a warm mouth on their clit and felt his tongue lapping at it like a thirsty animal.
“?!” The gasped so hard it hurt feeling him sucking and licking hard on their clit while furiously fingering them in tandem.
“Oh fuck! Capo~ “ they mewled. Their back arched and they grabbed on to his head to keep it in place. It was difficult to do so with his annoying hat in the way so he let them toss it off and grab him by the hair. Having his hair pulled on made him moan in their cunt and finger them faster in response.
“Capo~I’m gonna cum!” They sobbed with tears and drool just dripping down their face.
“Cum for your capo, Y/N.” He ordered.
“Augh! Capo! I’m cumming!” They shrieked.
The knot in their stomach was about to snap. The heat in them was intensifying. Their legs were shaking , and an orgasm came full force. They squirted all over his hand.
He pulled his soaked fingers out and gave them a taste.
“You look as good as you taste~ I can’t wait to wreak you.” He snickered as he took his pants completely off and started lining up his monstrous cock with their thoroughly wet pussy.
“Wait! I don’t think it’s going to fit! It will stretch me to my absolute limit!” Y/N panicked.
“ I made sure you were nice and wet. Besides, I wanna ruin you for Bucciarati. You’ll never want any man’s cock except mine ever again. I’m going to make your cunt a gaping mess.” He chuckled sadistically.
Y/N gulped in fear and prayed the stretch wouldn’t be agonizing. They have already been through so much pain the past 48 hours. He slowly breached his way in. It stung, he took up so much space. His tip is already kissing their cervix and their at least 2-3 inches left that still isn’t in yet. He forces it all the way in and Y/N groans in pain.
“You’re too big… this isn’t going to work.” They choked out.
“It’s either this or I go for your asshole. It’s up to you.” He warned.
There’s no way that cock is going anywhere near their ass. They knew with a cock that big they would end up disemboweled.
He gave them a brief minute and then he started to thrust.
“For an ex prostitute you’re really tight…” he panted
Y/N clenched their jaw and closed their eyes out of pain. Is this similar to giving birth? There’s something so huge inside you and it feels like it’s ripping you in half.
“Look at me.” He ordered.
They looked back up at him and stared into his blackened red eyes.
“I want you to see me ruin you. Look down at your stomach.” He instructed.
Y/N looked down at their painfully full stomach…there was a bulge there, his cock is so intrusive it’s bulging out of their stomach.
This seemed to turn the sadist on and he started to thrust harder. He loved how snug they were inside. It made him want to bury his cock even deeper into their cunt. Tears were rolling down their cheeks, for all the crying they did their cheeks were probably permanently stained by now.
Faintly the painful sting was starting to fade. Y/Ns body was slowly starting to relax; they could feel the heat growing in their stomach again.
“Starting to feel good?” He asked.
He smirked and picked up the pace. He nearly pulled all the way out and grabbed them by the thighs to hold them up. Then he thrusted back in hard, burying his cock as far it will go with the head penetrating the cervix.
“?!” Y/N gasp as they had the wind knocked out of them. They didn’t know how to register the feeling to be either pain or pleasure or both. Having the cervix breached was a foreign sensation to them.
The only noises that could be heard were the wet slapping sounds of flesh, the noisy mattress, panting, and the cries of ecstasy.
He completely brutalized her cunt, thrusting as hard as ever getting lost in the tightness and how slippery and wet it was coating his cock.
“Fuck, you look good taking me like this. I should have done this to you from the start!” He groaned.
“Ah~ Capo! You’re making me feel so full! I love it ~” they cried.
“Call me by my name.” He demanded. “ I wanna hear you say it.” He hooked his arms under their legs pushed them back .
“Risotto ~! Please fuck me harder~” Y/N mewled ignoring the pain in their heels.
Hearing his name like that lit a match under his ass, he immediately started to thrust harder and deeper like he wanted to break them. Seeing their lewd face with the tears and drool dribbling down their chin he put his head between theirs and their neck and sucked hard on it leaving his mark everywhere. They cried out and turned their head, exposing more of their neck. He kissed and licked down to the wounded breast and licked the trail of dried blood. He got their nipple in his mouth and sucked it hard enough to leave a hickey there as well. He wanted his enemy to know that he’s marked up all his precious partner.
“ Oh~ fuck Risotto ~ you are going to make me lose my mind!” They moaned.
He dove back down and kissed them deeply. He tasted of blood but Y/N didn’t care. Their tongues were fighting for dominance again while he was grinding his hips into theirs. They were timing his thrusts with their own. They were lost in the pleasure, they completely forgot that they were being held captive by this man. They were supposed to be fighting to the death but instead they are passionately fucking. The way he’s looking down at them, it almost looks to be a look of pure affection? No… Y/N is just delirious from all they've been through recently.
The familiar feeling was coming back. The knot in their stomach was coming loose.
“Risotto ~ I think I’m gonna cum!” Y/N howled, they were saying his name over and over again like it was a prayer.
“Me too. Cum with me!” He grunted. “Y/N! Fuck!”
They could feel themselves getting fuller from the cum being shot inside them. This set off their own orgasm as they clenched around his cock and squirted one last time. He let go of her legs, leaned in and gave one last deep kiss. Y/N was so exhausted, the last thing they remember was Risotto messing with the tripod before they passed out.
“This should send a strong message to him.”
————
Everyone has been on edge since Y/N went missing. Y/N was like another nurturing parent to the group. They were always stopping fights, or cooking food for them, helping them with hair, or just listening to their problems. Everyone felt an empty hole in their hearts without them.
Bucciaratis normally sun kissed tan skin had become as white as a sheet. His stomach was in his throat and his heartbeat was pounding in his head.
“This is so much worse than I thought.” He muttered while watching the ransom tape.
Give them Trish or leave Y/N to suffer? He had to think of a way to keep them both safe. He came out of his office his serious look on his face but looked like he just was haunted.
“Everyone listen up. We have a serious problem. We know where Y/N is and it’s not good.” He announced.
Everyone now more concerned than ever, never seen Bucciarati this upset. They knew they had a shit show on their hands and it was going to be so much more complicated than just protecting Trish.
#jjba#la squadra#jjba part 5#jjba x reader#la squadra x reader#jjba risotto#jojo risotto#risotto nero#bucci gang x reader#risotto x reader#jjba risotto x reader#jojo risotto x reader#minors dni#beryls one shots#emeto tw
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request: Musician Reader who has a concert in some soon time (maybe in a month or even could be less than a month)
And is stressed about it because not only the concert is coming near and it feels like every practice time, something would go wrong (maybe keep messing up part of the piece or feels like they dont have enough time?) Especially since the concert is the reader's and (insert turtle's) anniversary and didnt want to mess things up (also to make it more special reader composed a song for the anniv!) But at the end reader managed and played it in the concert as (insert turtle) watch them play the song! (Ofc hidden because ya know.. mutant whole situation lol)
🝮 “ mikey & the rose burns ”
rise!mikey x rockstar!g/n
author’s note: i totally wasn’t listening to “pov: you’re at a concert” YouTube playlists, just in case you were wondering? while i was editing the format to post this, the font size suddenly became large asf so i hope this posts normal 💀 (help me)
word count: 1.4k
As your hands fiddled with your guitar’s tuning heads, the nervous buzz coursing through your very soul could hardly be brushed aside. There was a performance quickly approaching, and the stakes were higher than ever. It was your first gig in a much bigger stage, which meant this was going to pull an even bigger audience than any shoddy underground basement bar could ever draw in.
Not only that, but this concert had sunk its teeth straight into you and your boyfriend’s anniversary date.
So, to say that you were a tad bit stressed by the heat set for this show? Well, now that would be a gross under-statement.
“ Damn it, try it again, Y/N, you missed your cue, scatterbrain! “
“ Ah, sorry Missy. “
You winced at your drummist’s outburst, tuning back into the present training session. There was only a few weeks left until this performance, and you needed to get it squared away. Missy huffed, ticking away on the drums as she cocked her head towards the band’s bassist, Jonah. You three were a ragtag crew, brought together by your producer after he felt you all would sound better together, rather than separate.
Fortunately for them, your vocals and lyricism skills were top notch, and being a lead guitarist who could sing? Well, that was just the common assumption, so it’s a good thing you nail both tasks, right?
Or well, you did. Until these mock sessions.
Each practice brought with it a set of problems, be it the strings of Jonah’s bass snapping last week, or Missy’s drumming being off key the first week, something had gone wrong. Now it was your turn, with poor timing and absentminded moments, it couldn’t have been a worse cocktail of trouble to give you cold feet.
“ Hey guys, I brought—whoa! You guys look horrible! Break time? “
The best part of it all was your adoring boyfriend dropping in on practice for whatever reasons he had in mind. Jonah and Missy were down-to-earth enough that Mikey’s… “ appearance ” was just another Tuesday to them, especially when he brought his amazing home cooked meals by.
“ Whoa Mikey, is that a pork risotto!? Haven’t you been spending months to perfect this? ”
Jonah collapsed at the table, inhaling the delicious aroma deeply as Missy sat just as roughly, practically salivating.
“ Jeez, Y/N, I’m so jealous that you get to experience culinary genius whenever you want! ”
“ What? No way, he’s my boyfriend, not my chef. I cook for myself a lot! “
Puffing out your chest, you feigned a playful air of “ insulted beyond belief!” and happily dug in to the bowl Mikey placed in front of you. He placed a kiss on your forehead before turning his gaze to everyone’s instruments.
“ Is practice running any smoother, guys? ”
He asked, jumping back a bit as he turned around to see everyone’s dulled spirits.
“ Ah man, Mikey, it’s… Well, it’s going, I guess. “
You sighed out, chomping a bite of the more-than-delightful array expanding out in your mouth. Flavors bounded across your tongue in an all-too-inspiring fashion. This happened to be just the light to ignite in your chest to get through this practice.
The night carried on with higher spirits, as it started to finally turn up. Mikey lingered, taking on the role of “ Personal Hype Man ”, which served to be just the buzz you all needed to wipe away some of the stress of the night.
Although, there was one song you all were keeping hidden from Mikey. It was going to be the “ bang! ” of the concert, a group-written song filled with everyone’s emotions. Consider it a thank-you letter, addressed to Mikey personally—with a teensy love letter tucked in, a solo verse written by your heart alone. Since the performance clouded any chance of a sweet anniversary date, your bandmates got the bright idea to make the concert the date! And they both had more than enough thanks to give to your boyfriend to begin with.
I mean, he boosted morale so much more than y’all’s shifty producer, from his warm meals to the refreshments all the way up to the hype man parts. If it weren’t for him, there may have been a longer road of fear and stress leading up to this gig.
So, you all grit your teeth and powered through mistakes, each trying to make your next practice better than the last. Each replay of the lyrics, strings, and the music left the band invigorated, hardly able to sleep at night, and much too excited for the upcoming night.
With all that preparation, the only thing buzzing through each of y’all as the room stirred with anticipation was straight, pure, and raw confidence.
“ Thank you for coming tonight—let me hear y’all give a great big yell for the Rose Burns! “
You leaned back from the mic, grinning wildly as your eyes cascaded across the sea of fans screaming out for y’all to play. One deep breath later and you all set off, playing through song to song. Under the stage lights, beads of sweat rolled down your head, but there wasn’t a care in the world as you all carried each lyric and note through with perfection. The fear chilling each practice was no where to be seen, and no mistakes sunk their teeth into any verse.
Heavy boots stomped to the beats, both on stage and from the fans before you. Lyrics slid from you and your mates’ lips like venom, bitter yet irresistible, and the music was enough to make even the shyest listener hear tonight jump and scream.
Cries from the crowd—some singing along, others cheering and dancing—pumped the band even further. As everything snowballed even bigger, your eyes finally landed upon the one you loved the most, up along the ceiling, perched along the building’s iron beams. Mikey could be seen bouncing along to each song as if he himself had written them. As a fan from one of your first solo gigs, you may have been insulted if he didn’t know every word. Well, to all but one of your songs. This one was a surprise.
“ This next song will be the last for the night, and is dedicated to a special someone in the crowd today. ”
You winked, watching the audience exchange glances as if looking for the special someone they’d never find. Pick in hand, you shook off the nervous jitters, exchanged glances with your mates, and yelled out a big “ let’s go ! “
Music filled the room, vibrating the floors, chairs, reverberating through the soles of the moving crowd. Not a single person was still nor quiet, as the room filled with the experience of loud, shared energy. This was an experience to go down in your memory, and you hoped that it would become a song that Mikey put on repeat.
Energy surged through the song, enlivening the room as Mikey regularly did. Notes bounding around the area’s walls with the very same fire he did everything with. Warmth filled the room, embodying those delicious moments at the table, and the crescendos of the music had everyone on their tippy-toes as it spilled into your solo.
Your voice wavered, standing strong as it was left to its self. Jonah and Missy’s instruments paled in the presence of your words, all spearing Mikey perfectly through the heart. Its message blanketed the audience, yet lovingly suffocated its receiver, straight until the last note. The words roared and filled the air, captivating with a tinge of longing that pushed you further.
The song’s end was one so impactful and subtle that the cheers and applause skipped for a second until roars bombarded the stage. Everyone poured their soul into tonight, and the energy of the crowd was evidence enough of its success.
“ Good night, New York! ”
All three of y’all beamed into your mics, laughing at some of the random remarks thrown from the audience. As the curtains drew, you caught sight of an orange blur that surely would meet you backstage.
First to the back, you were met by affectionate hands scooping you up into a tight embrace. Your back met the wall, and without warning your boyfriend’s lips met yours.
“ You were—that was, amazing! ”
Out of breath, Mikey’s hands cupped your cheeks roughly as he placed more and more kisses on your face and lips, up until you were both unraveling with laughter.
“ Hey, hey, lovebirds, leave that for your backstage rooms! ”
Missy and Jonah teased, dragging you both away with cacophonous laughter. Tonight had been a hit, and the future would only prove to bring even more packed nights.
#Mikey x reader#michaelangelo x reader#michelangelo x reader#rottmnt michelangelo x reader#rottmnt mikey x reader#rottmnt michaelangelo x reader#rise michelangelo x reader#Rise michaelangelo x reader#rise mikey x reader#tmnt mikey x reader#tmnt michelangelo x reader#tmnt michaelangelo x reader#rise tmnt mikey x reader#rise tmnt Michelangelo x reader#rise tmnt michaelangelo x reader
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pairing : giorno, bruno, mista, narancia, fugo, trish, risotto x gn reader
summary : a college student tries getting the attention of some of the most admired and attractive people on campus, only to get caught up with stands and vigilante groups in the process.
genre : college au, drama, action
notes : multi-chapter fic, sfw, 3rd person, they/them pronouns, doesn't follow canon plot
story : cophene
jjba : hirohiko araki
tag : #pseuminova
status : complete
a/n : (please excuse the odd fem pronoun here and there. this fic used to a fem reader insert before i rewrote everything. unfortunately i was not crafty enough to rewrite every pronoun :-||)
certain chapters have been split into 2 parts for a “choose your own adventure”. they bring you to the same point in the plot, but what happened to get there will be different.
thank you for checking out this fic! i've been obsessed with this au for a while, and hopefully you enjoy it as much as i do.
disclaimer : i don't speak italian (sad noises). any italian words and phrases are taken from websites and online dictionaries. sorry in advance for any mistakes or discrepancies.
wattpad link || ao3 link
* • ° TABLE OF CONTENTS :
part one
elaborate.
expectant.
overestimate.
Inosouciant.
unreadable.
impassive.
innocuous.
mindless.
cordial.
unspool.
intrinsic.
preamble.
nerve.
conviction.
odds.
rueful.
T. UNA
G. GIOVANNA
misgivings.
discreet.
appall.
L. ABBACCHIO
R. NERO
premature.
lopside.
N. GHIRGA
P. FUGO
relegate.
part two
elusive.
STATION I
STATION II
PAWNSHOP I
PAWNSHOP II
CHASE I
CHASE II
nonplus.
feverish.
inscrutable.
G. MISTA
B. BUCCIARATI
affront.
commend.
diaphanous.
hamartia.
part three
eminent.
discharge.
R. NERO
L. ABBACCHIO
G. MISTA
B. BUCCIARATI
N. GHIRGA
P. FUGO
T. UNA
G. GIOVANNA
an email from the chancellor
from pace with love
#pseuminova#jjba#jjba fanfic#jjba x reader#vento aureo#golden wind#vento aureo x reader#golden wind x reader#gender neutral reader#modern au
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ᐢ..ᐢ ﹒✦﹒ about ⟢ me !
☆ i am lia, a huge fan of vento aureo!
★ although i like jojo in general, my heart lies with vento aureo characters, hence why i made this blog.
☆ my ships are very... uncommon (in an unpopular way, of course). i have rare pairings and 90% of the jojotwt community doesn't know about these, so i decided to create a special place to keep in touch with anyone else who likes rare pairings!
★ if you're interested in knowing more about me, consider reading my carrd or visiting my twitter and ao3 profile!
☆ this blog is meant to be a way to communicate with other vento aureo fans, make fans and entertain myself with my writing hobby.
★ i have a brumis only blog with a friend of mine!
☆ HERE is my MASTERLIST.
ᐢ..ᐢ ﹒✦﹒ my ⟢ likes !
☆ favorite characters: bucciarati, mista, abbacchio, risotto, ghiaccio and formaggio.
★ favorite pairs: brumisabba, brumis, misabba, risoghia, prosghia and risoprosghia.
☆ characters i really enjoy: narancia, trish, pesci, prosciutto and polnareff.
★ shipps i really enjoy: brupros and formapros.
☆ characters i slightly enjoy: giorno, melone, illuso, fugo, tiziano, squalo, secco and cioccolata.
★ shipps i slightly enjoy: meloghia, formailluso, seccolata, ghiasecco, formaghia, brupros, and formapros.
☆ characters i don't care about: doppio, carne, zucchero, sale, scolippi, sorbet and gelato (at least not enough to write anything with them alive, sorry).
★ shipps i don't care about: every other ship (including those involving bucci gang members, risopros, bruabba, sorlato and risabba).
☆ characters i hate: diavolo.
★ shipps i hate: anything involving minors with adults or relatives.
ᐢ..ᐢ ﹒✦﹒ new ⟢ commissions !
☆ lately, i've been quite busy with uni and struggling with mental health issues, so writing has been heaven and hell to me.
★ that doesn't mean i'm not willing to write if i get any suggestions! my current issue is creativity, since i've been lacking of new ideas.
☆ so, if you checked my profile and felt like making a request, feel free! as long as you follow my rules, of course, which are:
𖤐 ִֶָ no-go! 𓂃 🧷
☆ incest, rape, sexual harassment, pedophilia, zoophilia, racism, ableism, animal abuse, or any type of prejudice and sex-related crimes.
★ age regression, yandere, furry, vore, vomit or feces eating, knife or needle play, cuckold, wound fingering.
☆ extreme crackfic (example: risotto shoves a hydrant up his ass and dies), non-angst infidelity, arranged marriage, fake dating, self-insert (y/n or character x reader stuff).
★ stereotyped or fetishized trans people, mpreg, dead dove: do not eat.
☆ bruabba without mista, risopros without ghiaccio, mista + anyone aside my personal ships, any ship with giorno or trish, -18 with +18, any character who isn't from vento aureo, any ship with diavolo or doppio.
★ fics without risotto, ghiaccio, mista, bruno or leone.
☆ mom bruno, rapist melone, dumb narancia and any other unfunny, overused, offensive or inaccurate joke/stereotype.
𖤐 ִֶָ maybe! 𓂃 🧷
☆ infidelity plot (angst/tragedy only).
★ sad ending (depends on my mood).
☆ what if settings (depends on the plot).
★ non-romantic oneshots.
☆ longfics (keep in mind that i have personal projects in production, so there's a slight chance i won't be able to do longfic requests </3 but you'll be contacted and/or credited if your idea gets used).
★ weird kinks (unless they don't fall on any of my previous no-go restrictions).
☆ random pairs (if they don't go against my personal tastes and look interesting to write about, i'll give it a try!).
★ age gap (+10 age gaps only if both parts are +24 adults).
☆ age changing (years passing? fine. characters with no canon ages getting a defined age? fine. turning minors into adults for pairing purposes? hell nah...).
★ solo/centric fics of anyone aside from risotto, ghiaccio, mista, bruno and leone (depends on the character).
𖤐 ִֶָ yes! 𓂃 🧷
☆ smut.
★ gore and violence.
☆ fluff.
★ light crackfic.
☆ domestic settings.
★ polyamory.
☆ alternative realities (example: bucci gang as lawyers).
★ horror (ghosts, vampires, werewolves, serial killers, etc).
☆ la squadra headcannons (i'm in need of ideas!).
★ brumis, misabba, brumisabba, risoghia, prosghia and risoprosghia.
☆ scenarioss, hc and opinion posts in here.
ᐢ..ᐢ ﹒✦﹒ my ⟢ schedule !
☆ i am a student with a busy household, so please understand that external factors may cause delays in my response to your requests. be patient.
★ oneshots may take a week or more to write, but scenarios or drabbles will be posted within 24 hours after you send me your request. <3
☆ if you need to contact me or have any questions, send me a message via inbox or twitter!
★ i always make update or divulgation posts whenever a request or original work has been written. follow me to check if your request has been posted; if not, contact me!
ᐢ..ᐢ ﹒✦﹒ good ⟢ bye !
☆ please like and reblog.
★ consider following me.
☆ i'll appreciate any feedback on my works, especially positive ones!
#fanfic#oneshot#ao3#ao3 fanfic#ao3 writer#archive of our own#fanfic writing#la squadra#la squadra di esecuzione#bruno bucciarati#leone abbacchio#mista#risotto nero#guido mista#jjba abbacchio#jjba part 5#vento aureo#golden wind#jjba bucciarati#jjba mista#ghiaccio#prosciutto#melone#illuso#pesci#risotto#formaggio#risoghia#prosghia#risoprosghia
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short la squadra reader-insert
inspired by the one tumblr post that was like “Blood loss? No I know exactly where it is.”
New information about your mission arrives too late–you had already left hours ago. Risotto sends Prosciutto after you in the hopes he can intercept you before you reach the target.
Prosciutto pulls over at the location and scans the street, looking for signs of a scuffle.
It doesn’t take long.
He follows the corner and sure enough, you’re on the ground, tucked behind the dumpster. There’s an alarming amount of blood on your shirt and on the ground around you.
You’re still conscious, breathing shallowly. As soon as you recognize him, you shift and immediately groan at the pain that it causes. “Ah, fuck….”
“Don’t move,” he says, crouching down next to you.
“The target had a friend. A friend who was a Stand user. Is that what you came to tell me? I already found out.”
“Clearly,” he says, grabbing your wrist and feeling for your pulse.
“Do you know what he called it?” You said. “Knife Party. I’ll give you one guess as to what it did.”
“Shut up,” he snaps, trying to count your pulse. It’s not looking promising. He’ll have to abandon chasing the target if you’re going to have any chance of surviving.
He wrenched your shirt up, ignoring your immediate protest, and counted five stab wounds in your abdomen. Frankly, it was impressive you were still conscious.
“Let’s get you out of here,” he said decisively.
“I’m fine,” you insisted, even as you made no move to stand.
Everyone in La Squadra had some kind of quirk, something weird or off about them–it came with the profession. People who killed for a living rarely came out of it stable. And your particularity, maybe even weakness, was that you coped with your lifestyle by being a control freak. It wasn’t unusual for a gangster, though yours ran deep, as he was currently witnessing.
“I can still fight,” you continue, “I’m just a bit dizzy.”
“That would be the blood loss,” Prosciutto explains, losing patience.
“It’s not blood loss. I know exactly where it is.” You weakly point to your soaked shirt, then the pools on the ground. “There and there. Everything is under control.”
“You are delusional,” he grumbles, then lifts you up, an arm under your legs and one under your back. The movement agitates sliced muscles and nerves, and you cry out.
“Sorry,” he apologizes, and is immediately surprised at himself. He was never tender to anyone but Pesci. He rationalizes it away as him feeling sorry for you. You were in a bad way, that was all.
“Unhand me, ham man,” you groan, and it should piss him off, but he feels relieved, which he decides to address at a later date.
“If you can still bitch, I think you’re going to make it. But I’m going to hurry regardless. I won’t have time to be gentle, so you’ll have to endure it.”
True to his word, he hauls you into the back of his car quickly rather than gently, lamenting the fate of the upholstery, and speeds to the closest hospital Passione is affiliated with.
You survive the attack, maybe thanks to him, maybe thanks to your sheer stubbornness. You’re out of commission for a few months, but eventually return to living at the house. Even when you’re recovered enough to be a threat again, enough to do your job, Risotto keeps you off of combat assignments for a few weeks.
Naturally, you bitch about it. Prosciutto finds it a sign of your returned health and is glad, and subsequently wonders if he should address that at some point.
Ever since the stabbing, you’re gentler toward Prosciutto. Your normally biting comments and short fuse with the other members doesn’t seem to extend to him anymore.
What he doesn’t know is you think about your near death experience a lot as you tried to process it. And at your lowest moment, as you had been dying, you could only remember how he held you as he ran to his car–tightly, securely. You were trying to come to terms with how goddamned safe you had felt in that moment.
You don’t talk about the stabbing outside of your debriefing for a solid few weeks. Then, one day, you approach Prosciutto when he’s smoking on the balcony.
“About a few months ago,” you say.
He takes a deep inhale from his cigarette, watching you.
“Well…”
You’re uncomfortable. It’s all over your face, and in the way you can’t maintain eye contact with him. It’s unlike you. You’re normally so guarded against anyone else.
“I never thanked you. So I wanted to do that.” You glance at him, and then away again. “Thanks for saving my hide.”
Something overcomes Prosciutto. A warm feeling. He keeps his face composed, but reaches out a hand and rests it on the curve of your face.
You stiffen. He keeps watching you, rubbing his thumb along your cheek.
“Anytime, sweetheart,” he says. For a split second, you think you see the corners of his mouth twitch up. Then he puts out his cigarette and goes inside, leaving you shell-shocked on the balcony.
#jjba imagines#jjba x reader#prosciutto x reader#la squadra x reader#sorry about the tense changes im sorry....#i haven't been able to write anything decent but this makes me a little happy so i thought I would share it#zen writes
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Weak | Risotto Nero x Reader
Some floofy risotto stuffs
very quick and meh
Word count: 479
Weak
Risotto shutters at your touch, at the very first caress that starts at his high cheekbone and dips down to his chin without failing a ghosting touch to his fleshy lips you adore.
His typical silence isn't there in those moments.
Instead, A different quiet surrounds him, one that makes the ambiance around him seem less guarded.
-Gentle, soft even.
It’s something he’s never felt before.
And he doesn't say a word, no praise nor protest because he's that much at a blank.
Though, he does shift, his head nudging you to keep your hand on his face and make the moment last.
The move drives it back up, encouraging you to trace his features instead, admiring how beautiful he truly is.
You make it a point to stare into his strange eyes, the devilish ones he's not too proud of and had admitted to detesting before.
"I think they're beautiful," you said with a warm smile, the touch of sympathy your expression holds existing because you felt it was a shame that he'd been forced to believe otherwise.
"You're unique," you compliment, musing how of all of his features, his eyes were the one thing that had utterly captivated you.
The one thing he hated the most about himself, was what you adored most.
- He wasn't one to be praised so much, making it all the more meaningful.
The lonesome recluse hides from most light, comfortable with the dimmest parts of a room because that’s how he’d spent the majority of his life.
He stays away from not only people, but attention altogether.
Yet, he thrives beneath your gaze.
He wants nothing more than to have you admire him more, telling him how his eyes are pretty as you look into them with that shining gaze he’s never sparked in anyone else before.
He wants you to touch him, to press your lips against his and accept his arms pulling you in closer until your heat melts into one.
Soon, it's not just a desire, but a desperate need; an addiction.
"-I love you,"
Those three words which are recited for the millionth time don't lose a shred of meaning.
They feel just as special as the first time you'd said them to him, and he reacts just the same as well.
His eyes gently twinkle as they stray.
There's a squint to them as he smiles too, and he looks so adorable when he warms up a little blush.
Mr. Pokerface and no-nonsense has his weaknesses, and you know every one.
It takes him a moment to recover before he dives down to you, the words softly breathed before he grants you a gentle kiss.
And like he'd felt desperate to, he holds you close, his strong arms wrapping around you like you’ll leave if he doesn’t take every chance he has to, to love you.
#risotto nero x reader#risotto nero x reader insert#risotto nero x you#risotto nero x y/n#risotto x reader#jjba risotto#Risotto Nero#JJBA fanfiction#jjba fanfic#JJBA#JoJo's Bizarre Adventure#jojo bizarre adventure#jjba golden wind#jojo golden wind#JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Golden Wind#Golden Wind#Vento Aureo#JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Vento Aureo#Jojo's Bizarre Adventure Battle Tendency#JJBA Vento Aureo
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Can you do hcs of reader being Risottos kid, and he's comforting them after they just gained a stand similar to his? :33c thank u <3
aww the thought of dad!risotto is adorable to me! probably because i want to have his children
Dad!Risotto Comforting his Kid with a Similar Stand Ability to His
risotto wouldn't be surprised that his child is a stand user, however he would be surprised that their stand manifested at such a young age
the child would probably be really confused, maybe even a little scared of their new ability. since it's so new to them, they probably don't have much control over it yet. they probably do things completely on accident, like if they get a cut, they might accidentally turn the blood into weapons. this confuses them, and causes them to fear their own ability
risotto would see when they did things like this, and instantly recognized it as a stand ability
when he noticed that his child was fearful of their ability, he decided that he needed to talk to them about what stands were, and how to control them
he would teach them little exercises to practice control over their stand with, turning it into fun little games. this way, they would see their stand as something fun and useful, instead of scary.
when they started to get good at using and controlling their stand, he would start to make the exercises more challenging
he would be such a proud dad to see that their stand is so much like his, and how well they use their new ability
he would praise his child so much for their accomplishments, always making sure to tell them how good of a job they were doing and how proud he was of them.
he would also take them out for ice cream or treats when they learned how to do something new :')
#risotto#risotto nero#risotto x reader#golden wind#vento aureo#golden wind x reader#vento aureo x reader#jojo#jjba#jojos bizarre adventure#jojo x reader#jjba x reader#jojo part 5#anime#self insert#x reader#imagine#jojo imagine#jjba imagine#vento aureo imagine#golden wind imagine
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Paint It, Black
Risotto x Reader, heavy angst, 10774 words. Remained unedited because I can’t afford crying any more.
tw: gore, but not too explicit; character death
Influenced by Rainbow’s Catch the Rainbow and the badass Paint It, Black by the Rolling Stones.
She was late – unusual.
Perhaps this fact was emphasized by Risotto's acute state. Not once has this man fallen in love this deeply, this hopelessly – this beautifully.
And the beauty of love was easy to spot, for Risotto. Much like grotesque, the ugly sides emphasized the pretty ones.
Waiting for her to come could count as one of the downsides, for through it, he would be caught up in childlike excitement; something he wasn't accustomed to, and something that caused him discomfort, should he think of it any more.
He was vulnerable, and he did not like it. At first, when he came to realize his feelings, he treated them with loathing. Undoubtedly, loathing, for he thought of them as a distraction, nothing more. But as time passed, he realized his heart simply could not listen. He could not prevent the joy she caused him.
So he gave in, opened his eyes to the many beauties of love. And it was worth it, every bit of it. He found himself walking in a brighter world, wherein he had the privilege to love and, to possibly, quite possibly –
Be loved. It was her who gave him the silly idea. That he deserved it, in fact, that he needed it. That he could care for someone, and in turn, be cared for. As if it was the most normal thing in this violent world.
Because it was. She only opened his eyes, wide, to acknowledge both sides of the spectrum. And the fair side of the spectrum, it wasn't unreachable, not at all. It was very real and very near, just a confession away. Which he decided to postpone until the moment was perfect, to some distant, ideal moment, far in the future.
As for now... Risotto was just a lost child.
It was only natural that his cherished one was looked for keenly – and was not found, sadly.
Perhaps it was odd, for (Y/N) would always arrive early, if not, then among the first few members. The schedule of their arrivals was something Risotto had long adopted in his mind. In that regard, (Y/N) was the same as all people in the Squadra; in any other regard concerning her arrival, she was unique. Stood out to Risotto for no other reason but her many virtues and beloved flaws. Whenever his eyes would be blessed with the sight of her, he would be reminded of all of those traits. She was radiantly overwhelming, her very appearance. That was all she needed to do – merely appear.
Usually, she would stroll inside, wearing quiet confidence like it was sewn for her. A deadly stand user, a ruthless assassin, and yet, a sweetheart.
She'd search for Risotto with her stern gaze, and upon spotting him, upon the brisk locking of their eyes, her façade would crumble, just for that one instant. She'd show it in numerous ways: she'd look away, she'd turn around, twirl her pretty hair between her fingers. She would be so adorable in her shyness, her unbelievable innocence, which he caused.
Risotto's crimsons would remain unfaltering, but his stone heart? Moved, certainly moved, with vivacity short and unfamiliar. There would be so much enforced in Risotto, in that fleeting moment he would always look forward to – and was missing now.
Why, the question was immediately asked. And he answered: perhaps she was stuck in traffic, or some other everyday occurrence befell her. He had no way of knowing, and he had no way of confirming. She was possibly too occupied to contact anyone, for nobody mentioned the reason behind her absence. It had to be that way – he understood. He simply wanted his little heart to calm down as well. Although it had no rational basis, he had a bad feeling.
His hand lingered before his mouth. He swatted away the worry with a twitch of it. So much senseless stress, and what for? Time and time again, he realized just how inutile his feelings could be. Made him lose his mind for a bit, in situations that were, luckily, as unimportant as these.
Everything was crystal clear in his mind indeed; but in order to bring out the clarity, he had allowed the present moment to fly by. The chatter in the headquarters had shifted to some other topic, and he didn't manage to catch the transition. A long sigh was heaved.
The talk turned out to be a rising argument. His gaze was redirected to the team members who were scattered around the room, some sitting, some standing. And the ongoing discussion was...
"If he ordered chocolate milk, then maybe people would think it's coffee," Formaggio suggested.
"Do you actually think they wouldn't be able to discern chocolate milk from coffee? Just think of the serving, a simple, minuscule espresso," Prosciutto explained, showing the oh so miniature size of the cup with his fingers, "and a massive mug of chocolate milk with whipped cream on top like it's meant for some sugar-crazed kid." His description of the chocolate milk was spoken with sincere discord. Formaggio grimaced.
"I thought this conversation was long over," Melone added. Pesci nodded fervently.
"Obviously not," Prosciutto snapped back. Before anything else could be said, the boss raised his tone.
"Then you should finish it now," Risotto voiced himself, "let's get this over with."
"Aren't we waiting for (Y/N)? Where is she, anyway?" Sorbet inquired. Gelato, by his side, raised the both of his brows.
"I presume nobody has heard of her," the boss proposed. As expected, nobody had.
Her absence was questioned, and the Squadra together reached the same conclusion as Risotto: that she was busy with something and simply... couldn't make it. It was likely. They all knew of her occupation to help out the local seniors. It was something Illuso ridiculed whenever he could. And, by all accords, she wasn't the type to obsess over money, unlike Sorbet, who couldn't emphasize with her. All in all, it couldn't be anything serious, though the fact remained that she never, ever skipped these sorts of meetings. But there's a first.
Risotto silenced whatever worry some of the men showed. Soon enough, nobody spoke of it. Business as usual would ensue – and the money was divided among the assassins.
In appalling carelessness, they left the headquarters. Their boss watched them walk away, one by one. Being the first and last one to come and go, he once again remained on his own.
He stood up. Shrouded in complimenting darkness, Risotto found himself wondering: was there something that he should've done? Or could've done, at least – to calm down for once. To make this disgusting feeling go away.
He hadn't heard of her for multiple days. Ever since that one meeting. Could it be...?
Without thinking, he flipped out his phone and stared at it. All he had to do was dial her number and inquire about her absence. Just one call.
Nervously, his finger tapped against the phone's side. He was being irrational. Had it been anyone else in the team, he wouldn't have reacted this way. The fact her worth was placed so high...
He disliked it – no, he was embarrassed about it. He knew feelings twisted his perception far and wide.
His phone was ignored with a scowl. Nothing would be done after all. He would remain blind, he chose, and retreated into the murk of his office.
Some paperwork laid scattered on the table. He neared it and cleaned it up, and voilà, the entirety of his office was in perfect order.
With that over, he sat on the chair, clueless as to what to do next. The butterflies in his stomach were obnoxious – and irritated him vastly. The dread was piling up for no reason at all. He told himself that, yes, she must've been busy, and that, no, she wasn't incompetent. If something bad had truly happened to her, her stand would be enough to defend her.
She was just another member of the hitman team. Just a colleague. Overall, they were doing tough work, but... they had little to no trouble concerning their job. Nobody had disturbed them, and nobody would – they were stand users, both powerful and elusive. Then...
(Y/N) must've been fine, he reckoned, pinching the bridge of his nose. But some instinct was telling him that things weren't as simple as his brain dictated. With this bothersome worry constantly on his mind, he couldn't calm down. That, and the fact...
The fact he might determine what happened. It went against his logic and his heart, and it went against what (Y/N) would've done, and yet... it was a horrifying possibility.
If calling her meant some solace, then so be it. He loathed this anxiety – shedding some knowledge in this situation would surely ease him.
So he called her. Gained nothing else but the reason behind his awry laugh. She wasn't answering.
He called her again. She couldn't have done that. She was too clever, and he warned her, and she listened, he knew she always listened –
Did she hear the phone ring? Had she turned off the ringtone?
And he called her again. If she had decided to do something, she would've told him, after all. She was sensible, mature. She wouldn't go around doing... whatever it was she intended to. Just what was on her mind?
The solitary sound that filled his office – the beeps on the other line – once again died down. Silence enveloped him, deafening whatever was left of his frantic thoughts.
That's it. He set the phone down onto the table. Slowly, he lifted his hand to his mouth, and his eyes remained fixated on the still device. The heartbeat that latched onto his throat would not let go – and he stayed put, stuck in the unnerving moment.
What was he even doing? He'd lost his mind – this was becoming an obsession. He was deeply, thoroughly ashamed of it. His brows were brought together in scorn.
There were so many ways to justify her silence. Facts spoke in favor of her safety, whereas his intuition screamed bloody murder –
He hated it. He hated the fact his psyche was torn. He yearned for integrity, stability, and all of it was ravaged – due to, what, his emotions? His love? He wouldn't let those have their way, no.
Maybe he was just looking for a way to kill his rushing heart. A precaution, just in case the worst would come true.
So, to distract himself from the distraction, he chose to finally get his work done. He looked through the few reports, checked their credibility, if there were any mistakes, and somehow, he was finished in no time. The fact surprised him. Subsequently, he could go home.
He exited the headquarters, and was astounded by the dark that awaited outside. The nearest street lamp wasn't working, he noticed. Allowing a small frown on his face, he thought it would be absolutely ideal if a dog had decided to shit somewhere along the shadowed road. That, or... his breathing halted.
Wasn't it ridiculous that he hoped for (Y/N) to appear, even for a millisecond? Wasn't it simply ridiculous of him to actually possess that yearning? It truly was. He nodded to the mute inquiry, and headed home. Therein, he would be met with a displeasing surprise. His phone rang, and the news dropped.
Unbeknownst to Risotto, some other men of the Squadra had decided to contact (Y/N). They reached out to her, only to find nothing. No response at all. It was clear at that point:
(Y/N) had vanished.
Some of them informed Risotto the very same evening. Risotto was awake and conscious to read all of the messages and receive all the calls. With every sound his phone made, he foolishly believed it was (Y/N) who was contacting him next – and disappointment washed over him every time. At that point, he could barely control it.
But he beat the worry with his thoughts. Bashed it mercilessly, scolding himself for being such a worrywart. As the wee hours neared, so diminished the reasons for him to cling to the phone. Everyone was slowly going to sleep. He should too.
It was in nightly silence that he found some solace. These taps on his nerves were goddamn awful. He knew something horrible must've happened, but he did not know what exactly. The ignorance was eating him from the inside out, as well as the fact that he could've helped her. The fact he could still be of some help – but how? The more time passed, the fewer chances he had to come to her aid.
And yet... he knew he was exaggerating. It took him so much to convince himself.
All this strain took a toll. Although not tired physically, his mind was exhausted beyond measure. Whatever news the tomorrow held, he would skip to them through some much-needed sleep.
He prepared, whatever had to be done in the bathroom, and reached his cold bed. Not much was left to think about, and as incoherent whispers overtook his mind, he found himself falling asleep. And then, in what seemed like a blink later, he woke up – well-rested.
In the bliss of hazy consciousness, he forgot his worries, he forgot fear and life, and he found a reason to smile.
But things couldn't work that way. His brain soon turned on, like a buzzing machine, and overwhelmed him with the worries, fear and life. Pushed all the information, all the memories underneath his closed eyes. It wasn't that he didn't want to see them – he did not want them to happen in the first place.
He dug his face into the pillow. A faint groan escaped him, involuntarily. The very next moment, he jumped to his feet, ready to tackle the haunting possibilities.
He acknowledged the time of the day. Dawn had escaped him by mere minutes. Light was abundant – it crawled inside of his room, crept up the carpet, bits of it reaching his bed and its messy sheets.
He did not oversleep, as expected. With that on his mind, he checked his phone for anything new – and revealed nothing. Perhaps some men of the Squadra were chatting on the laptop, which he did not check. If anything important had occurred, he would be informed over the phone. That was his mindset.
Therefore, if nothing had happened so far, he was obligated to take action. At last, it was justified.
However, not many people were awake at this time, and he had no way of waking his team. He ought to wait if he wanted to gather the Squadra.
He had to kill time, then. Sadly, sleep was no longer an option. With so much free time, he could check the correspondence on the laptop. He turned it on, and while the system was starting up, he went to grab his toothbrush.
Once back from the bathroom, he threw himself on the chair. The poor thing creaked, the sound much like an agonizing scrape on his eardrums. He clenched his teeth, threw away the setback, and opened the chatroom. Oddly enough, there were no new messages after Melone's old rant about... Risotto didn't want to reread it.
And oddly enough, Ghiaccio was online. As soon as Risotto noticed that, his teammate began typing.
Good morning, boss.
Risotto parked the toothbrush in his mouth and typed back, Good morning.
Ghiaccio: Any news concerning (Y/N)?
Risotto: Nothing.
Ghiaccio: She hasn't contacted anyone?
Risotto: No.
Ghiaccio: That doesn't make any sense though?!
Risotto: I know.
Ghiaccio: She's always doing something with her phone and now out of all times she can't answer it?!
Risotto narrowed his eyes at the statement. What do you mean?
Ghiaccio: Whenever we go on a mission, she's glued to it. Staring at it like she's expecting the messiah. All the time. Now, somehow, she can't reach it. The fuck happened? Did she lose it?
This was confusing. Risotto had never seen (Y/N) linger on her phone as much as Ghiaccio highlighted it. When with Risotto, why would she not be on the phone? The reason why... the possible reason made his heart contort.
Even so, she would've arrived to collect her pay yesterday. It's abnormal of her to be unavailable for such a long period, Risotto reasoned.
It took Ghiaccio some time before he'd start typing again. OK. Basically, she disappeared.
Risotto: Most likely. I've intended to have you gathered in the headquarters as soon the team is awake.
Ghiaccio: OK.
On both sides, a pause arrived. Risotto knew the cause of his – a numb knot spawned in his chest. He took the moment to acknowledge it, merely sigh, and greet it so. In that solemn situation, he tested out the limits this invisible cord wrapped him in, and revealed that, by all means, he ached. One deep breath was enough to release a string of pain through his heart.
All of a sudden, a new message garnered his attention. He made sure to steady his lungs.
I have no idea what happened. I haven't spoken to her in a while, and it's probably the same with everyone else. I'm sure that the others would've told you in case they knew anything relevant. That being said, I hope (Y/N) is alive.
How blunt. As if Risotto hadn't been aware of that already. He replied with a short, Me too.
But there was some warmth in Ghiaccio's statement. It defied the usual chill of his personality. Risotto did not miss it, and yet... could not reciprocate it.
I should get going, he added, for he had to, in all sincerity. The toothpaste in his mouth was starting to bite on his tongue, and the sensation wasn't pleasant in the least.
However, standing up proved to be an unpleasant act as well. The tinge in his heart rose, as the knot tightened. He was obligated to carry it, to the bathroom, where he spat the paste and finished brushing his teeth, then to the window, where he stumbled to refresh his head.
No matter the cold air, he poked his head outside, arms resting on the window's frame. He was met with scarce life scattered in the grey.
And what happened there? What would be the commotion that sparked Risotto's interest? Some people crossed the street – a car hadn't stopped early enough, so the woman on the zebra jumped and latched onto her companion's arm. It was comical, to an extent, and he was reminded of a similar event.
Per se, going on missions with (Y/N) was something Risotto broadly avoided. Reasons were numerous. The last time they had gone to one, their particular set of abilities was necessitated for the kill – so he had no choice but to do it with her. Their target was a dangerous stand user, but as expected, that presented no problem for the duo. That's not to say they had no struggles. The fight left some wounds, but it was nothing too bad. Victory was achieved and that mattered.
Relaxed as he was in that moment, Risotto lifted his hands in a triumphal pose. Meters in front of him, the bloodied corpse laid as a sure trophy to their success. Apparently, the success was so great that (Y/N) had to hug him – and... well, he froze. In every sense.
It was a misunderstanding, she explained later, because of the way his hands were positioned, the situation, the relief she felt, and whatnot. But Risotto was left with an unplanned memory of an embrace, although it was very short and very awkward.
And this unplanned memory now resurfaced completely out of the blue. What once gave him a sincere smile, now locked his lips into a rigid line. Not much could be felt. He continued observing the streets.
Lazy cars passed underneath him, and lazy eyes watched them. Pigeons hopped about the pavement, hastier than many of the few people outside in this monotone morning. Someone found it adequate to yell at a reckless driver, and the driver yelled back. All in all, a very peaceful, monotone morning. Nothing that would unsettle Risotto, far from that.
He lived through the calm, through the storm, and now settled with their aftermath. The morning was largely as quiet as his tired mind, and he relished in this mutual peace. He prepared himself, with deep breaths, to face whatever this nauseating day had to offer.
But things needn't be as dark. He didn't have to look down at the dirty road. He could've stared at the clear rooftops, the bleached skies. There, the white was burning. The Sun had its rays sprawled equally over the clouds, and they were quite painful for Risotto to watch. The heavens were simply that bright – overwhelmingly so, for even a peculiar thought crossed his mind: could they be hiding her?
His eyes widened and he quickly looked away, scoffing at his stray assumption. What an enigma – why was he so certain in that delusional idea? On a subconscious level, where his intuition too hollered, but logic scolded. Interesting. He abandoned the window and its view, and smiled in bitter intrigue.
Not much time was killed, he knew. So he made himself breakfast, a sandwich with whatever he had in the fridge. There wasn't much else he could do afterwards except idle, and think, all over again, of everything and nothing. He was consuming time with prospects and reflections.
Little by little, the minutes accumulated into hours. Noises of the day rose, and so did Risotto. He informed the Squadra that action must be taken. It did not take much for them to reassemble at the headquarters, and Risotto, once again, arrived first, and luckily, he did not wait much.
With everyone gathered, tension was high. Risotto walked around, unusually nervous himself, with a hand on his chin. And he assured, beginning as he had planned over and over again back home, "There is a high probability that (Y/N)'s disappearance is a false alarm, for she has a bustling private life. Therefore, I advise you not to panic, even in case we do uncover something bad. We need to stay calm." By that, he mostly meant Pesci.
"However, the fact remains nothing like this has ever happened. (Y/N) has no record of such odd behavior, making her disappearance even more concerning. We should backtrace her possible intentions and from there, start investigating."
Risotto took a deep breath. He knew her intentions, but he wanted to hear someone deny them.
"Let's start from the last time we collectively saw her, the meeting –"
"Which meeting?" Pesci seemed confused, which made Prosciutto grumble.
"When we discussed the boss," his older brother explained curtly. Pesci let out an "oh".
With that over, Risotto continued. "So, has anyone seen her afterwards, or spoken to her?"
Only a few heads were shaken. The remainder resorted to silence. Risotto's eyes narrowed at the sight. Judging by the situation, he was the one who had last seen her.
The situation was a short one, nothing special. She stayed behind after the said meeting. Sat for a couple of moments, a blank stare ahead, missing Risotto by a couple of inches. He sat in front of her, on the sofa adjacent to hers, thereby near. He easily caught the newfound fire stirring up in her eyes.
"This is insane," was all she said.
Tilting his head in confusion, Risotto couldn't quite understand the meaning behind her statement. (Y/N) didn't really voice her opinion throughout the meeting, but she seemed to have agreed with their final decision: to go after the boss. "We've already established that the idea is insane," he said, his connotation slightly inquisitive.
"No, no, I'm not talking about us going after the boss. I'm talking about him, exactly him," she explained while flailing her hands a little. This amused Risotto.
"We've already established that he's horrible as well," he continued.
"Not in the sense we all talked about! This isn't about money, I couldn't care less about that. I don't care if I'm paid a couple of thousand lira less. I live in the lap of luxury anyway, we all do, more or less. But, boss, he is degrading us. Humiliating us!"
This was something Ghiaccio had mentioned, but Risotto didn't interrupt her. He was fazed by her ferocity.
"And I won't let our superior treat us like scum. Because that's clearly what we are to him: scum. While other sections of the Famiglia thrive, we're left with what? A broken TV," she pointed at the said object, "and absolutely humiliating treatment. Despite us being oh so important to him and oh so cherished in the Famiglia. I won't let him do that. We can't let him have his way. For all I know, we can easily kill him. Right? There is a reason why he's so elusive, he must be a weakling. If not a weakling, then a pathetic loner. Doesn't matter. But once we find him, he won't stand a chance! He'll die. We will kill him. We have to."
She caught a breather, and Risotto used that to speak up. There was so much he wanted to say after this rant.
"First of all, breathe a little, (Y/N)," he told her, making her let out an airy laugh.
"I've hardly ever seen you this riled up. I assume there's a personal motivation that fuels the animosity."
"That's true," she confirmed.
"In that case, take care. You cannot allow emotions to control you."
She nodded, and Risotto continued. "Second of all, you are correct. Everything you've said is true. This is why we will go after him once we gather the necessary information. As you said, he won't stand a chance. I wouldn't agree with the team's intentions if it were impossible."
(Y/N) probably tried not to show it, but she was relieved, and Risotto noticed it. Her shoulders relaxed, as well as her once stern expression.
"Third of all, why?"
"Why what?" There, even her tone softened.
"Why did you say all of this? We've already discussed that in the meeting."
She hesitated on what to say. Indeed, even as she spoke, she carefully picked her upcoming words, her eyes bolting to the ceiling as she figured. "You've already guessed that there is a... personal motivation, as you called it, present. But... I wanted to make sure you'd.... well, do it."
Risotto's brows furrowed a bit. "Agree with the plan? I've already done so."
"Don't misunderstand me," she began, quick to defend herself, "you just didn't seem too... eager about it. I wanted to make sure you were convinced... and convince you, too."
Bold words coming from (Y/N), she hadn't said anything during the meeting. But Risotto was unpleasantly surprised to find out that (Y/N) thought he was hesitant to comply. He would do anything for his team, he truly would. He cared vastly about them, and even if the idea to kill the boss was immaturely impossible, he would consider it. He would, no doubt about it. It would be right to say her assumption struck the wrong chord.
He decided not to justify himself, although he wanted to, in order to be seen as a better person in her eyes, to brag about his willingness to help the team – it truly was tempting. But he swallowed his pride and told her, "A plan like that ought to be approached with caution, and as it concerns all of us, it is something that we all should carefully review, give our opinion about, and collectively agree on. And as you've seen by some people's behavior earlier, they're excessively enthusiastic about it. Some sense had to be delivered."
(Y/N) nodded. "I understand. I'm sorry if I offended you."
Did he show it? He shouldn't have. "You haven't, not in the least. Would that be all?"
She nodded again. Good, then. Risotto found it inappropriate to ask her about her troubles, although she seemed to have been somewhat... disturbed. If she needed his support, advice, or anything, she would've asked, he believed. So he let her be, more out of shame than out of intrusiveness.
She stood up and without saying anything at all, headed towards the exit. This astounded Risotto, as well as the odd sight – she clenched her fists.
"Don't."
She turned around, perplexed by his demand. He was perplexed too, without a doubt. He lifted his gaze to meet her eyes.
"Don't do anything on your own. It's too dangerous," he warned.
"Sure," she dismissed him with a quick reply and continued walking away. No, no, she wouldn'td do that –
"(Y/N)," he called out, and she turned around, once again. They both heard fear in Risotto's voice.
"I mean it. Don't do anything stupid."
(Y/N) was clearly shocked. Wide eyes almost went shut, as a loving face took over. "Oh, don't worry. Have I ever?"
She hadn't, of course. Risotto forced a smile as well. Lingering on the doorstep, she seemed as if she wanted to say something – at least that's what Risotto's memory told. Then she left, no goodbyes whatsoever.
Her bright smile was engraved in his reminiscence. The more he thought of it, the more his own expression darkened in the present.
"If that's so, then I'm certain (Y/N) went after the boss," he finally stated to his team.
"She what? No way," Illuso was quick to disagree.
"After the meeting, she approached me and hinted that she would go after him on her own. I warned her against it, and she seemed to have obeyed."
Melone... had an addition to the conversation. "She didn't listen, huh... oh, (Y/N), (Y/N)..."
"Quit interrupting him!" Ghiaccio yelled.
"Too much time has passed for us to blame this on a mishap. We must find her before it's too late," Risotto proclaimed, and the hitman team agreed.
Nobody knew where she lived, except for Risotto. If the situation were any different, he was sure he'd get ridiculed for that. Or at least, indirectly teased, in whispers and chuckles. He just so happened to have once walked her home – and although she had a stand of her own and could easily defend herself, she accepted his company. Something Risotto was now (and back then) extremely grateful for.
The search began with him having a head start. He went to her home, as he had intended. The others went to local cafes, inspected the area, some resorted to finding clues on the web. To conclude, the collective worked hard on finding her.
It didn't matter who hit the jackpot, Risotto thought. She needed to be found.
Formaggio and Illuso came with him, and the two chatted all the way. (Y/N) lived in the most ordinary building on the streets; the same stoic, gray type that framed all alleys. As they walked down those dull roads, they encountered a repetitive scenery. But Risotto remembered which building was hers – he would recognize it for sure. The door was...
"Boss?"
Risotto's line of thoughts was broken with Illuso's inquiry. "Yes?"
"I'm unsure if this is inappropriate of me to ask, but I wanted to know 'cuz it seemed real fishy. Is there something going on between you and (Y/N)?"
Luckily, Risotto's ironic smile was not seen.
"What?! That's very inappropriate, and you know that! Where's your heart, man? The fuck," Formaggio immediately stood in Risotto's defense.
"No, Formaggio, it's alright," Risotto sincerely spoke, and responded, looking back to the two men with a cold glare, "and Illuso, to answer your question, no."
"Mhm. I see, sorry," Illuso replied to that. Formaggio's grumble was heard as well.
Their boss moved on in silence. He had more important business to attend to. Because just around the corner was (Y/N)'s residence. That is, if he remembered correctly.
They turned, and Risotto recognized the deep crimson entrance of her building. His heart leaped. They were on the right path after all. He walked on, approached the door, and checked the tiny nameplates on the wall. Among them, he searched for (L/N)... and found her almost at the very bottom, meaning she lived on the top floor.
Naturally, he pressed the button next to her name, just in case. He didn't know what he was expecting, for he got no response from the intercom.
Since they had no other way of entering, Risotto used Metallica to mess with the lock. Thus the door was opened and they entered the chilly interior. And to go up, they used the stairs.
He skipped two, even three steps at a time. Illuso and Formaggio followed close behind, hasty as well. Risotto's heartbeat rose as they all spiraled upwards, to her residence. That horrible feeling from yesterday was caving in, once again did his intuition scream bloody murder. All that he had in mind were the worst scenarios.
He had never been optimistic; hope, itself, was something he never resorted to. Similarly, he was never roughly disappointed. But now, what fueled him was utter despair, pushing him closer to the terrifying possibility, driving it into reality –
With a surprisingly sickening atmosphere. A faint stench alienated the air. What a sorry introduction to (Y/N)'s floor.
He really didn't have to hurry at that point, but he kept the frantic pace. Why, he had no idea, but he kept searching for her nameplate on one of the doors, although he knew what would expect him. He was absolutely sure, for such a long period, wasn't he? But all of the dread he tried to hide, now cumulated, and it was too much for him to bear. He was shaking, oh, he sure was, as he looked around, his feet lighter than ever.
Illuso spotted it first. Her pretty name was engraved on the plate. Risotto glanced at it, then towards the lock – Metallica was undoing the mechanism already. A click later, and he could enter doom –
But he did not want to. He froze, his hand floated in the air, and he realized, as his heartbeat ticked the time in his ears: he could not do it. He couldn't make himself cross to the other side.
"Boss?"
The callout brought him back to his senses. He was their leader, through the good and the bad, through the best and the worst. He had to do this, he had no other choice.
His hand landed on the doorknob and he swung it open. Another wave of reek greeted them, thus Risotto's breaths turned painstakingly shallow. As if the smell clawed at his wet eyes, he found himself squinting them, to make out the thick whiff and what else it obscured.
He was moments away from it. The last time he would see (Y/N) in the entirety of his life. He looked around, darted his eyes here and there, and he saw, in between.
All he needed was a single glance, to be reminded he loved. One glance, to see her signaling a hollow heart to him – inked with her guts, spilled and embedded onto the wall with black nails. Intestines that morphed into a crimson profession of undying love. Underneath them laid their deceased owner, a ghastly figure with a gaping void to fill out her stomach – and on her face, eyes bulging at Risotto, pleading for help long impossible, long expired. He wasn't there to save her.
But she? (Y/N) was finally there to warrant her death.
He closed his eyes as if to deny it. Clenched his teeth, as if to grip onto the remainder of his sanity. And as if to distance himself from his men's gags and screams, he walked backwards, blurry gaze shoved into the floor. Never again to see her.
Agony crippled him. His hand landed onto the nearby wall, to prevent himself from falling further into this void – the void that was in her open mouth, her dugout belly, her once beautiful mind. All now black, morose black, that painted his vision, that hid him from his own tears. The mildest consequence of his colossal failure.
And what to reply to that proclamation? To that monstrous statement? A chokehold prevented Risotto from sobbing, let alone screaming back. All that left his trembling lips were ragged breaths, and all that came inside was sickly air, barely enough to fuel his shuddering heart. Salt, too, prickled his tongue, while it arched and got pulled by the rising nausea.
There was so much he could've done to prevent this. This had been preventable, but now he was powerless. Utterly and wholly insignificant in the face of fate.
There was nothing left to do. This was all they were left with. A tragedy and a massive disrespect to (Y/N) – and the dreadful wonderment, just how much she had suffered before succumbing. He could not begin to imagine it, but he knew that his aches, they were nothing. Nothing when compared to what she'd been through in her final moments.
Only one person could be held accountable.
"Boss, there's... a note," Formaggio's thin voice was heard. Risotto could not respond, he barely even heard Formaggio – his head was absent in perturbation. His hand rose, fingertips strumming over the gentle lines of tears. He became aware of his outburst, how vastly it devastated him – and to hold himself together, slowly, his hand hid his mouth. He could not allow himself to fall apart.
Avoidant of the bloodbath, his gaze drifted to Illuso – a man so caught up in terror that he had to sit down and stuff his eyes with the sight so as to convince himself in the cruelty of the present. Then, Risotto's gaze hovered over to Formaggio, to find someone who, much like his boss, had no courage to face it. Ghastly pale was his visage, trapped in bewilderment.
In those two, Risotto saw himself, the devastation was mirrored. And he saw people who needed him, who needed his help. He had to stay strong not only for them, but for his own sake as well. He could not allow this tragedy to tear him apart right at the start, no. He had to calm down. He had to gather himself.
Clarity graced his vision. His hand lowered. (Y/N) would want it that way.
He hardened his heart, as much as the tender muscle allowed. With a wipe or two, his tears were gone, and no new ones would escape. Risotto trod on with sure steps, to find the note Formaggio had gestured to.
Indeed, on the table laid a paper tainted by droplets of her blood. Risotto couldn't bear to touch it, but he leaned in to read.
With no heart to sustain it, the idea is killed, it said, in a mockingly fancy handwriting. It only caused worse spite.
"What... does it say?" Illuso asked, quietly.
Risotto made a rocky sigh before reading it out loud, and he turned around upon hearing Illuso's whisper. "Whoever did this is a monster."
And before he could spit his words of vengeance, Formaggio exclaimed them himself. "We'll find the boss and obliterate him."
Obliterate? But would they? When uttered from another mouth, the idea seemed ridiculous to Risotto. Vengeance was impossible, at least in their current position: zero information and a high possibility of new casualties. This was a mere warning, a mere showcase of the boss' power.
He was flaunting with the lives and deaths of Risotto's teammates. As infuriating as it was, Risotto was powerless against it. He could feel his nerves boil.
"We can't," he spoke, his voice steady as ever. He could almost feel the terrified looks of his teammates as they landed on him. And he would not look back. He kept his focus on the note, stubbornly rereading it.
"The message is clear. With (Y/N), the idea of betrayal should die as well," Risotto elaborated.
Illuso jumped back to his feet, his fists clenched in newfound fervor. "As if we'd let that happen!"
Risotto's eyelids drooped. They had to let it happen.
"Right! (Y/N) didn't die in vain!" His teammate agreed, striking Risotto's nasty spot.
"No. You both know that we're in no position to search after the boss. We know nothing and there's nothing we can do."
Formaggio immediately retorted, "But (Y/N) was clearly on to something! Why do you think she was murdered?! Because she knew something!"
"For a fact I know she didn't, and she was murdered for trying to dig into the boss' identity," Risotto tried to reason.
"So what?! She was alone, we can do it together! We can avenge her!" Formaggio once again attacked, enforcing even more anger into Risotto.
"We can't," he barely spoke through his growing rage.
"But –"
Risotto snapped, "Silence! Do you want others to get slaughtered like her?!"
Formaggio couldn't muster a response. His boss calmed down, luckily, and continued, "I understand your need for justice. We simply cannot afford it right now."
Out of all people, Risotto could wait. The very fact vengeance would arrive someday was enough for him, and he hoped his men understood this.
"Can't believe you're arguing while she's there," Illuso mumbled. He hadn't spoken at all during the conflict, but what he uttered now eternally silenced whatever counterargument was brewing. Risotto, however... he merely hung his head low.
"The way this fucker disrespected her..." Formaggio afforded a peek at the corpse.
But Risotto did not. He swore they would restore her dignity.
The very next day, they attempted to. At her quiet, humble funeral. Overlapping silence crushed all above the sullen coffin. All the tears were long cried, and mutual hatred had long dropped its weights; all that remained was beat-up anguish.
The amount of belittlement before fate was astonishing, for these assassins. To think that death they dealt with so commonly would hurt them all so profoundly.
In the center of it all, stood their leader. Risotto's breakdown upon spotting (Y/N) was the only time his emotions were shown – ever, in fact. As it turned out, they were not seen. Formaggio and Illuso were too occupied with the corpse to even look at Risotto. Afterwards, he returned to his usual, aloof self, as if nothing had happened. Nothing!
Even during the funeral, he had little to say. His teammates' behavior spoke volumes about (Y/N).
Pesci, who was relentlessly crying at its beginning, wailed so much to his brother. Prosciutto didn't try to scold him, or silence him. Risotto listened just as carefully as Prosciutto did, while Pesci explained, "She was so sweet! She always praised me, she... she always... she was always there for me... why do the best people have to go?! Why her?! Why, big bro?!"
Pesci threw himself onto his sibling, his hands gripped and messed with Prosciutto's suit, but he didn't know how to answer. Risotto, listening from a lonesome distance, concluded that there was no reason. Fate rolled the dice and they landed poorly. There was no higher meaning, there was no... nothing.
Destiny was a hollow principle. Questioning it was useless. And so, Risotto came to terms with the tragedy with inhuman ease. Not apathy for sure, rather, a numbness that lulled him into a dream-like state. This funeral, the events leading up to it? They did not feel real. Risotto was just a dissociated bystander thrown into it all.
He observed, waiting for his role to become... potent. To matter in this entire mess. But there was so little he could do! He sat on the cold bench, once again, powerless, just mingling as one of the remnants of the tragedy. They all faded away, slowly – grieving was not their forte. With the first assassins who rose to their feet, Risotto felt an alarming pound in his chest. They couldn't leave without a proper statement coming from him. He was obligated to say something.
"From this moment onward, (Y/N) (L/N) has never existed," his voice boomed in formidable echoes, resonating through his men as they departed. It was the best that way. Sever the severed, he had decided, and cut off the mutilated heartstrings. What was done cannot be undone, he was aware, and although he ached...
Would (Y/N) like to see them in such a state? Grieving, despairing? Certainly not. Then why bother wailing?
He needed to move on. He had no other choice. Everything else would lead to complications. He could not allow emotions to sway his life – or his job.
But he had to deal with them. Eliminating them was impossible, bottling them up was impossible. If he were to cut them, he had to tap in their essence. He needed to end his relationship with (Y/N).
Risotto knew the importance of goodbyes. In psychodrama, for example, he knew the protagonist sometimes had to deal with unresolved relationships from the past, and to resolve it, a farewell would be played out. In the form of dialogue, between the two characters, where the protagonist ought to say what was left unsaid, thus sealing the past.
Risotto had no choice but to reenact this method. Nothing else would effectively, healthily, set him free, as far as he knew.
He was almost excited to walk down the stairs and reach her, and have some time alone with her. He thought of the many things he could've told her, all so vividly different. He could've, yes, he could've told her of the cat he gave milk to – she would've loved hearing about it – or he could've slammed a singular, harsh goodbye, but none of it would serve the purpose. He needed to say the right thing, the perfect thing to mark the farewell.
As his steps slowed, so slowed the pace of his thoughts. He had to stop and ponder, for he attained the grave realization that this was his last moment with her. At least, in some figurative sense, in his mindscape, but she was with him.
And just like always, Risotto would change. His heart was moved, crooked in a stray direction, but certainly moved. He found a flower by her casket, and caressed it with the gentleness she had once taught him.
She had taught him so much – she did not have to. Risotto did not want to learn how to love. But, he did not blame her, not in the least. He was grateful for her very existence in this goddamned world, however short-lasted it proved to be. Where she trod, even her shadow was boldly bright in comparison to the mafia's dark. He didn't know how, but she did not cease to illuminate. Not once, since the day he met her.
What a remarkable person she was. His eyelids fluttered, and he let them fall shut, black enveloping his whole world.
"Sorry," he murmured, although he knew it made no sense. Her body had evidently been in her apartment for a long time, far before her disappearance was noted. The decomposing confirmed it. But he felt the need to tell her that, to apologize, for some reason. Of all things, it was by far the most adequate.
And alongside the apology, a weight was lifted, and Risotto opened his eyes to see bleak existence. Swiftly, he averted his gaze away from the coffin. It was over.
The firm knot in his chest lessened its grip. He knew he was not forgiven. He would never be, and he could live with that, so long vengeance was possible, he established firmly.
Risotto Nero walked into the funeral a free man, and exited it a convict. His confinement – solitary. Walls of hardened sorrow caged him. Stone-cold they were, and stone-cold was him. Had anything truly changed? A free man and a convict, where was the difference, except in the title? For he could live life as if nothing happened, and the very reality was his jail.
Such a solid punishment. To be forced to live obediently. To just walk the streets like yet another passerby, as unimportant as any of them in his own life. In the grand city of Napoli, despite the mafia and his clearly valued position in it, Risotto had never felt smaller. It was no wonder, then, that he slouched his back and paced with a pace of a drunkard.
Everything seemed... saturated. The songs blasting in the cafes, the children playing on the empty roads, the pigeons fluttering their wings loudly once Risotto interrupted their cooing. Those were all ordinary things, but they all stuck to his mind, due to this... dim wonderment.
He couldn't wait to get over with these melancholic sensations. He simply wanted to get home, then get a mission, then go kill. He wanted to be thrown back into the cycle.
And after an eventless day and a dreamless night, he finally got it. He was with the rest of the Squadra, getting accustomed to this faulty cycle they were coming back to. Only (Y/N) was missing. The fact wasn't mentioned, and wouldn't be mentioned, as it appeared. Days tumbled over each other, and there was a development Risotto was glad to perceive.
The head of the Famiglia had a powerful message to send out to Risotto's team – that their heart, the vital organ, was ripped out. By all means, that was false.
Risotto grew to understand that, through the tragedy, the team had changed. It was a subtle difference, probably noticeable only to an eye as keen as his, but it was there. He looked into the men's actions and saw a silent sort of kindness. (Y/N) united them with her absence.
But when delving into the introspective, Risotto, strangely, found no change. It was as if the shocking moment was the worst, everything else... he could get used to. He didn't allow himself to miss her, and he easily distracted himself from her departure. If he'd spot the empty seat on the sofa that once belonged to her, well, he'd simply look away. A tinge of pain would impale his heart, but he got used to that too.
And he knew, time would heal it as well. Time would bring revenge, the sweet justice. But time passed, and what happened? The world revolved, the spring's beginnings unfolded, and the assassins killed all but the one most important target – the boss.
Much like the kindness (Y/N)'s absence enforced, the topic of the boss remained silent. It seemed as if everyone were waiting, just like Risotto, for his mystery to be faintly revealed, mentioned, caught in their everyday occurrences.
But it did not. Risotto's hands were still soaked with the wrong blood. He was itching to scratch the dried gore off of his skin, to scrape this vicious cycle. It was becoming one, wasn't it? What a paradox. The numbness he swore to wear had gotten all tight and unpleasant, his teammates were tired and fed up. Risotto knew he loved to imagine it were the boss he was killing in his few assassinations, and this was where he broke his pledge. For this was when he felt, and when the numbness became bestial wrath.
And he... he disliked that, but he couldn't help it. He could allow these few emotions in those few moments to overwhelm him, at most. At most! Everywhere else he was the same as ever.
However, one day, there was some sort of odd gravity in the team's behavior. Risotto had always been sensitive to social cues and their finesses, so he watched as this regal behavior spread among the Squadra. He could see Pesci's shy gasp, Prosciutto's squint of sapphires, Ghiaccio's involuntary grit and Sorbet's frown. All cascading from each other, as a secret was passed on, never directly spoken, never heard by Risotto.
The avoidance present in their interactions was a native mechanism for Risotto. What would redirect his gaze from that one spot on the sofa, what would always remain silenced, indirectly, barely mentioned? (Y/N). So he put that topic, her, in the current context, the...
The month after her death. One month had already passed. The unsaid secret reached him too.
His eyes scanned the polished floor beneath him, and his thoughts – they were blown out by the intense realization.
He picked on the patterns in the light that was reflected. Some straight, some looped. He tilted his head slightly, and the light moved where he watched, and remained where his gaze stopped. His brain was kindled so.
Now, Risotto was no sentimentalist. First, his job excluded that trait, and second, his character could not sustain it. So he didn't do anything. He had to pretend she hadn't existed, and just like the rest of the Squadra, silently accept it all over again.
It was a minor change to the cycle, not the best, but it happened. A little fact thrown into the seas of existence, rippled the waves with its drop, and it spread, not without consequences.
Although to Risotto it seemed like just another pale day, it would end with a note very vibrant. In his sleep, he was encountered by some scene of nature, where light trespassed the treetops in white streaks. Underneath them snaked a tame road of dirt. And although he visually had no way to locate this spot, he fundamentally knew where he was – Sicily.
Once the realization settled, he turned around, compelled by the gentle breeze. It was the sea that the breeze originated from, the beautiful, wide azure, a remedy to his soul. And before him, all the way to the water, sand like ivory, never too coarse and never too rough.
And the wind, the scent it carried... mewls of nostalgia got to him, and he was melting. He was brought back to his childhood, to the innocent and loving times, and... and that warmth, that came with all that was good, and with... love, indeed, love.
(Y/N). He knew she was the wind, for she gave him all of it. In return...
He could feel her in his grasp. (H/C) locks beneath his chin, her loving smile that he swore to protect; her, simply with him, possible and true. The warmth of her embrace that he felt only once in his damned life, that slipped away, like the breeze all around. He was enveloped in the wind, but the wind did not stay. It sighed along, then left him alone. And just like that, Risotto was stripped of any feeling.
There was unfamiliar heat in his face, and he tried to chase it away. He even closed his eyes, ready for the accursed tears to pool, to drain him of the warmth – but they didn't. He remained frozen as seconds flew past, expecting his heart to split in half. But it didn't.
Why? He had to go after the wind, he thought, so he took a step forward, only one. It was enough for him to realize that he had no feeling in his foot. It was almost as if he was standing on air. The sensation unsettled him.
He waved his hand towards the brush by his side, and did not sense the leaves underneath his fingertips. He retracted it, then, frustrated, shoved it into the bush. Nothing, again. He pulled it out and saw cuts and early blood seeping from them. He did not feel any pain, nor the delicate trickling of that fluid, nor the stinging that should've arrived as his flesh was exposed. Nothing, absolutely nothing.
He stepped backwards by reflex – no, he staggered backwards, then fell. And he would've hit his head quite painfully if it weren't for the fact he couldn't sense it. Such an annoyance, all of this. He rolled on the ground and somehow got back on his feet.
Risotto was static, but did not get to question these circumstances he found himself in. No, as soon as he got back to his feet, he looked and saw that what once was an angelic azure, now grew into a wild indigo. Grew, yes, he saw that right. An atrocious wave rose from Sicily's fine coastline and like a crumbling wall approached Risotto with the sole purpose of killing him.
Run for cover, he thought, and bashed his legs senselessly against the ground. It was futile, naturally – and the waters swallowed him, crushing him that very instance, but allowing him to feel at long last: death.
Risotto woke up, chest pressed against the bed, his heart pounding so violently it actually hurt. He opened his eyes immediately to spite these fantasies, and indeed, he was back in his room, in his bed. He groaned and smacked his face with the both of his hands. What a fucking gross dream.
His next day wasn't half bad. No, well, he almost forgot about the dream since something far more important happened. Donatella Una was dead, and Donatella Una was the boss's alleged lover. Risotto would have to admit he was pleasantly surprised.
But this only triggered a chain of events down which the Squadra descended. One by one, the path was abandoned by the men, as they erred fatally. Risotto was left the last one standing, barely standing.
He had no team to be strong for. All of his sufferings were ignored for one, simple goal: to find and kill the boss, and he was persistent in his cause. Only after could his life continue, and until then – until then, he would do everything and anything in his power to end that one wretched life. Luckily, he was on the right path to do so.
He was led to Sardinia, he was led to a cliff, and he was led to observe an unusual line of events which he chose to interfere in – rightfully so.
The pink-haired man he chose to bother was of the usual sort. Terrified and frail like any other civilian. Risotto would've let go of him if it weren't for one important factor.
His intuition screamed. This time, he would listen. And just like that, indeed, facts came to support it. He spotted the movement of the foot this guy had made, a very specific and deliberate one, to hide the envelope.
"Stand up, move your left leg, and show me," he ordered, lifting a finger to point at him. But he was suspiciously ignored. Risotto didn't have time for this idiocy.
"I told you to stand up! Stand up!"
His furious demand was listened to, and the stranger jumped up with a cowardly screech. He stood on one leg, arms propelled in a defensive manner. But that did not interest Risotto – the envelope was, as it appeared, empty.
Risotto caught a buzzing sound in the distance. The stranger, too, reacted to it. The guy had to be a stand user, for he reacted to... to Aerosmith. Buccellati's team arrived, and this man, a stand user, couldn't be there without the boss' interference. He had to be a person greatly trusted by the boss.
With Buccellati's presence on his mind, Risotto felt inclined to battle him. However, however...
"But there is true fear in your heart," he exclaimed, "you're a walking contradiction!"
His opponent twitched and resorted to uncanny anger. "Shut your trap!" He pointed at Risotto, and Risotto saw that he was even foaming, like a rabid dog. "You're the one who's about to be shaking in your boots!"
He ran towards the assassin – a bad move. Risotto immediately deduced the range of his stand, thus the way to land the kill. He proceeded to have his own stand procreate razors, then needles in his opponent's trap. This didn't faze him one bit, and he ran towards Risotto, trying to land a hit of his own. But all his punches were amiss, and as Risotto avoided them, he reached the edge of the cliff – ideal, he threw himself off the rocks and vanished from his enemy's sight.
The battle began. Dulled rage was a sharp weapon, and he was itching to strike.
And struck he did. Right from the start, he tiptoed at the doorstep of victory. The train of his thoughts was conducted with elegance; he predicted and he predicted right, and the enemy would soon succumb. What occurred in his mind, reflected on reality; his movements were equally as airy and light while he swayed around. He circled around, stopped here and there, took a blow – but dealt far worse ones.
His foot was severed, but he took the best of it. And as expected, his opponent was tricked, and what did that mean? What could that possibly mean? Oh, Risotto knew exactly what it meant, and his heart trembled with delight.
And then? He explained his trick, and watched as his opponent quite literally changed before him, and so did Risotto's opinion on him. The realization snapped in his mind as soon as he saw confidence twisting the man before him. Coupled with his erratic behavior, Risotto rightfully concluded that there were two of them. The first one, just a loyal henchman, but the other one...
"I had just thought you were the boss' most trusted man," he murmured, then pointed at the screaming man. "But you... to think that you..."
Pure glee forced a grin to his face. He couldn't remember the last time he felt wholly happy, to the point he was shivering like a careless boy.
"I can't wait to see what your face will look like once you die," he shouted in elation like no other, he relished in the bloodshed that took place and the agonizing wails of the boss, of that disgusting scum. Risotto would do anything to make this torture last an infinity or more, but he had to restrain himself. He had to do the right thing, finally, he could do it.
"There's nothing else you can do. I've won. I'm going to chop off your head," he exclaimed. "This is the end! Take this!"
At long last, triumph! His hands trembled as he lifted them up and up, and as he took a deep breath, his chest full of life and joy, he sentenced the boss to eternal death, "Metallica!"
And then, all of a sudden, horrifying pains reverberated throughout his body. It was only afterwards that he got aware of the gunshots.
He couldn't even move his hand to feel his wounds. He couldn't even process it. He was dying.
"I was winning..." He whispered in disbelief, denial, dread – for he was outsmarted, and he was beginning to realize how and why, despite the collapsing of his mind. "I would've won... but you had thrown the scalpels at them... boss..."
He fell, and all of his spirits did too. His blurry vision, tiring eyes, were subjected to the Sun's scorching light. He had no strength left to move them.
"I finally... figured it out..." And he wouldn't let it slip away, no. He would end the boss. He was determined now more than ever before, his mind was a mess, but he knew he would do it –
He swung a brisk glance towards this shadowed man who now stood by him, holding up Risotto's foot. He only recognized his arrival due to the absence of the Sun – the silhouette now hid it from Risotto. "I know your identity." Gore dripped from the boss' head as he tilted it slightly. Risotto's time was short, he was painfully aware, and he shortly pleaded,
"Before I die, show me... show me your face."
"I will not allow you to continue this conversation any longer, Risotto Nero," the boss told him, and proceeded to dialogue with a silent partner about his immediate death, his pride, his success, rubbing it in in Risotto's already devastated state. The boss offered an honorable death in exchange for iron in his blood, acting all high and mighty, all abominable in his greatness.
But Risotto would have a say in this noxious dialogue. With the remnants of his mind, he tugged at his vocal cords, the muscles of his punctured throat, to produce a hoarse, barely audible reply. The boss, naturally, did not hear, and he leaned in too close, demanding for a repetition, and hastily, the iron.
"I'm saying... that I won't die alone," he warned.
And somehow, Risotto gathered enough strength to grab the boss' shoulder, and he pulled that monster right against his chest, glaring at him with all the love that got corrupted into hatred.
Risotto announced, "Die!" And death came.
All that he knew, all that he felt, was a brisk fade of consciousness as it paled into light. What came next was inevitable in death: acceptance. He was forgiven at last.
Did it even matter? In reality, Risotto and all he loved, lost.
#risotto x reader#risotto nero#risotto#risotto nero x reader#risotto headcanon#la squadra#risotto reader insert#jojo x reader#jjba x reader#vento aureo x reader#risotto nero headcanon#angst#heavy angst#la squadra x reader#haha#vento aureo#canon compliant#<3
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To Be in Your Arms (Risotto Nero x Reader [Angst and Fluff])
Is this late? Yes. Am I sorry?... yes 🥺👉👈
Apparently, this fic is too long for tumblr, so the rest is on AO3! My account is RohansPenNibs if you’re interested.
I forgot to mention that I got an AO3 account like,,, last week 👉👈 but hey now y’all know! I’ll be posting my longer fics over on there.
Thank you for your patience! 💞
___________
Risotto stares at the mirror, his eyes visibly sunken in, face unshaven and noticeably pale.
Despite already brushing his teeth and splashing his face with cold water, he still felt lethargic.
“Risotto, Amore, you should shave,” you giggled upon feeling his stubble with your palm.
He quirked an eyebrow up, still looking at the mirror, “really? I thought you loved it.”
Risotto placed his hands on your own and began rubbing it against his jaw.
You squealed in response to his antics, “hey! That feels weird—!”
Both of your laughs filled the bathroom.
As if his hands were weighed down with cinderblocks, he reaches for the razor.
“Fine, I’ll shave, I’ll shave.” “Good! I’m not about to poke myself every time I give you a peck!”
How many months had it been since you last kissed him. Four? Six?
It didn’t matter. Whenever he thought back, it felt like it was yesterday, anyways.
Full fic here!
#jojos bizarre adventure#writing#long fic#risotto nero x reader#risotto nero#risotto x reader#risotto reader insert#jjba x reader#jjbaxreader#jjba#jojo part five#jojo golden wind#jojo vento aureo#la squadra x reader#la squadra#prosciutto#ghiaccio#pesci#melone#formaggio#illuso#risotto#angst#fluff#risotto imagine#jojos bizzare adventure golden wind#fanfiction#x reader
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La Squadra - Periods
Risotto had called the entire team for a meeting and you all sat down at the large table, paying careful attention to what your superior had to say.
It wasn't an unusual occurence. You regularly had meetings like these to discuss future projects, missions and recent updates, but today was particular.
Being the only female in a group of rather unique and atypical assassins was already hard as it was, but now, on that very special day, you could pepper in a little inconvenience that was not so little at all and that would surely spice things up just the way you hated.
That's right. Periods.
You had been with the team long enough to know how to conceal your menstruality and your overall feminity. The less they saw you as a woman, the better you felt and the more seriously they'll take you.
Oh but of course it wasn't that easy. If only it was. Some of the men were fine and courteous, but others just loved to show you how much their brains were located in their pants rather than their heads.
Even pulling out a 'strong warrior' persona didn't seem to faze the likes of Formaggio or Melone, to name only a couple. If anything, you acting difficult only riled them up even more.
You eventually gave up even trying and focused on your own work, not caring about how you appeared in their eyes or their comments. Thankfully your leader was more down to earth than everyone else.
Today was the first day of this months' periods and God forbids, it was just the worst you've experienced in a good minute.
You usually managed to get away with little pain or just sucked it up and went on your day knowing full well it would be better the next day.
But damn, today was NOT a good day for your uterus for some obscure reason.
'What the hell is going on...?' You thought all day, cursing your own insides for being especially harsh on you.
It was exactly the kind of horror pains that could put you in a vegetative state. The kind where you could barely even walk or stand, or even pick an object up from the ground. The ones you'd assimilate the most to what a woman about to give birth must feel like.
You held your stomach as everyone took a seat and you tried your best to show a neutral face. Good thing Ghiaccio was just loud enough to drown your light grunts and pained breaths as you sat down.
Gross. You felt so dilated you had to squirm to sit down without feeling too sensitive. It was that bad. Unfortunately for you, a little somebody noticed.
"Are you okay Y/N? You don't look very good..." Pesci had softly inquired, but it only brought unwanted attention towards you.
"A-ah, I'm fine Pesci, don't worry." You forced a smile at the boy. Good thing it was only him. "Just a tiny bit sore." You assured the rookie but the nosiest men of the group made sure to note that little piece of information for later.
"Okay team. We have a lot to go through today so be very attentive. I won't repeat myself so stop me whenever." Risotto ordered in his growly voice and everyone nodded.
You tried your best to listen to everything as the meeting went on. It would usually be over quicker than it seemed, but of course, today, time seemed to have slowed down at just the right pace to make your agony last as long as possible.
You were always very attentive to your Capo's briefings and never dozed off but the dizzying pain you felt was kicking you just the way to make you want to die on the spot.
You couldn't help the shallow breathing that you forced through your nose, scared that you'd start panting if you dared part your lips.
You gulped. Why was the room so hot suddenly? Were you really getting a fever from the pain? God, it hurt so bad. Why did you have to be assigned to such a sausage fest of a team of all Passione?
It was at exactly those moments that girls usually showed the best display of solidarity, even when they were strangers or enemies. They would know what to do, what to say, how to help.
But now you were alone in your suffering, surrounded by degenerate males who couldn't even wash their own dishes or do any useful work around the base, let alone know jack shit about women and periods.
You didn't realize that you were holding your burning head in your hands as you stared down at the sheet Risotto had passed to everyone. You tried to focus on the lines and explicative plan drawn out on the paper, but it was hard, to understate.
You clenched your eyes shut and the moment you started to truly put all you attention to your superior's voice, it was like he was muted, as if he had stopped talking.
Before you could wonder why he went silent, or if his silence was just a trick of your own running mind, he started.
"What's wrong Y/N?"
You looked up at him with a dazed but confused look on your face. All nine men were staring at you. In silence.
"Oh my..." Came a distant voice from the mirror.
"Yo... Girl, you look PALE, and I mean... P-A-L-E right now." Formaggio commented and you heard a dramatic gasp next to you.
"You've been breathing heavily. Is everything alright Y/N?" Prosciutto noted with his usual patronizing tone, but he still sounded somewhat concerned, which was unusual of him.
"I-" You stopped, shocked by your own voice. You really sounded meek and breathless.
"HEY! If you're sick, just go! Someone will brief you later but don't bring your virus in here!" Ghiaccio scoffed, already irritated.
"I'm-" You rubbed your eyes and face, hoping to bring some energy back from it. "Please just continue, don't pay attention to me."
"So cute~" Melone cooed next to you and reached out to move some hairs out of your buried warm face. "Lean onto my shoulder if you feel too tired, okay darling~?"
"Y/N, if there's something wrong you have to tell me. We can have a five minutes break if you need." Your leader stated calmly with his cryptic deep voice.
"Oh yeah that'd be nice!" Formaggio cheered and some others agreed.
"Hmm I wouldn't turn down a small break." Sorbet said as Gelato nuzzled closer to him.
And so you all called for a short recess. You struggled to push yourself up and cringed, your hands and legs shaking under you. God, even getting up was an actual workout now.
You tried to ignore some of your teammates calling you and fled but you couldn't just turn away from one particular deep voice.
"Y/N."
"Not now capo I-... I'll go to the bathroom real quick-!"
Your voice was strained, somewhat of what they'd hear from someone who got shot or stabbed multiple times in the abdomen which coincidentally, was exactly how you felt.
What even was the difference? Having been shot and stabbed before during missions, you knew damn well that at least the adrenaline rush numbed the pain long enough for you to be able to push through. But nothing your body did could prepare you for this particular pain even though it was a regular and endless cycle.
"Five minutes, just five minutes...." You chanted to yourself as you hurriedly locked the bathroom door with clumsy fingers.
You silently cursed everything on this Earth as you swallowed your whines. Fuck those guys, fuck your uterus, fuck that stupid pain, fuck the Don. Fuck everything that put you here in this place, in this very moment.
Oh to be assigned male at birth and only ever worrying about how to place your balls in your underwear, and not having to deal with this restless agony, living in such bliss and painless peace.
"Uuughh... Whyyy... It's never usually that bad... Who cursed me...?" You quietly whined and cried on the toilet seat.
You suddenly remembered that one guy, weirdly dressed who kept screaming bloody murder at you once for wearing a 4-leaf clover charm on your neck, telling you you'd be damned for life for wearing such a cursed number.
Before you could internally insult him too, you heard a knock on the bathroom door.
"Y/N, are you there...? We're waiting for you." The soft and worried voice of Pesci called out.
"Y-yeah, I'm coming..." You croaked out and tried to straighten yourself up, finishing your business quickly to join them.
"Yay our princess is back!" Illuso clapped very mockingly as you entered the room. "Took you long enough."
Usually you'd hit him with a strong 'Shut up', but your silence striked him even more than you insulting him in his face.
You sighed a bit too heavily as you painfully took your seat back. Your expression betrayed you as Melone patted you on the back in sympathy before he let his hand drift down lower and lower down your back.
"Melone, come on now..." You groaned, too tired to fight with him and his ceaseless misplaced behaviors now. You don't think you would ever get used to your own team.
"Oohh~ if you keep on speaking with that voice don't expect me to stop." He teased, more than satisfied.
"I'll make this quick." Risotto cleared his throat before getting back to where he stopped.
It was a miracle that you ended up listening to half of what he said and you sure hoped this wouldn't eventually cost your life on the next mission. You were sitting there, curling up unprofessionally in your seat, squirming the pain away, your eyes clouded and occasionally squeezing shut.
Risotto has eventually and finally dismissed everyone and got up to go finish more paperwork in the confines of his office. Illuso and the ice cream couple walked out as well but nobody else moved.
You didn't feel like standing up right away so you put your head in your arms as you kept your wheezes down. Damn, what a time to be alive.
"I'm worried..." Pesci told his blonde big brother figure who only folded his arms and stared at your pathetic form, reaching to grab a cigarette.
"Whatever has gotten into you Y/N, get over it. I've seen you fight way worse than what you're dealing with right now."
"Somebody shut him up before I put my whole fist down his throat..." Your grating growl was muffled but still very distinct to all the males present.
"My, my. Poor baby angel, you must feel so horrible." Melone caressed your hair and spoke with a soft voice.
You couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic but you couldn't deny that his tone soothed you nonetheless. Honestly at this point, you would take any remotely gentle treatment to counterbalance the pain.
"Oh I know what'll make her feel better!" Formaggio got up to walk off somewhere, only to quickly come back with his very soft looking cat. "Meow, meow!"
"Tch, that's so stupid, man, you cringey ass!" Ghiaccio spat as he sipped on a coke can. "No way that'll help her. She's probably allergi-"
"Ooh... So cute...!" You tiredly gushed and reached out to pat the very tiny fluff ball that instantly walked across the table, right to your arms.
In these moments of sheer concentrated pain, even the simple purrs of Formaggio's cat seemed like anesthesia.
"Haha, see? She loves her. Suck it Ghiaccio!" Formaggio boasted, rubbing his victory on the skater's face.
"Hmmm I'm jealous. Y/N, touch me like that sometimes, okay?" Melone pouted as his glance shifted to your fingers patting the cat.
Illuso appeared from God knows where and frightened half the men at the table as he gently put down a cup of hot tea in front of you.
You looked up at him questioningly and his red amused gaze scanned your face, a smirk teasing his own.
"What are you staring at, stupid? Have some tea it helps with cramps. You're so miserable I took pity on you. You'll repay me, that ain't free."
Melone gasped dramatically as Pesci looked at Illuso like he just spoke French or something. Prosciutto let out a small 'oohh...' before he got up as well, probably to explain the situation to Risotto and escape the shame of his utter ignorance.
"H-how did you..."
"Hmmm, I know all things carina. You can't hide from me of all people." He whipped his long hair back before rolling his eyes at you. "Drink up, it's not poisoned this time."
You took a moment to process his words, but eventually scoffed, cupping your warm drink in your hands.
"Pfft... You creep. Pervert." You failed to bite your small smile and he definetely caught it. "Monitoring me down to my... There..."
For once you were thankful of his nosy creepiness. He still kept quiet about it and brought you a warm drink. So there was a heart behind all his rattiness.
"Wh- Y/N, baby girl! Why didn't you tell me?! How could you hide this from papa?! You know orgasms help with cramps!" Melone shook your shoulders, clearly offended before Ghiaccio jumped from his seat.
"I litterally fucking have ice powers, I coulda' made that shit gone, SO FAST! You think I'm not reliable or something?! HUH Y/N?!"
At the end of the day, you had a nice team. It only takes a little used to and a lot of time to adapt but it still works out.
"... OH WAIT SHE'S ON HER PERIODS? BWAHAHAHAHAHA! TOO BAD SO FREAKING SAD!!"
"WAAAAAAH-?! W-W-WHAAAT??! HER WHAA-AH?!" Pesci wailed and blushed at the reveal, which his poor mind did not catch up on until now.
"Shut up Formaggio, please for the love of God, shut up..."
Bonus:
"Menstrual cramps...?" Risotto stared up at you from his pile of papers. Prosciutto smoked in front of the window behind the burly man without a care in the world.
"Yeah... Oh man..." You admitted quietly, not without shame. You didn't want to have to explain to your leader and make a scene, but today was just the most inconvenient.
He sighed and closed his monstruous red eyes. "...You know I could have actually helped it out with Metallica...?"
"..."
"..."
"... Oh-... REALLY?!"
#writing#jojo#jojo's bizarre adventure#x reader#reader insert#jjba#jojo no kimyou na bouken#jojo part 5#part 5#golden wind#hitman team#assassination team#prosciutto#risotto nero#risotto#pesci#formaggio#melone#illuso#ghiaccio#sorbet#gelato#afab reader#period for ts#platonic
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