#everything is strewn over everything and the punisher is standing in the corner mocking me

[godbirdart]

i have two weeks to finish this cosplay prop and I'm nearly done i can almost Taste the success

[jjbaconsumedmysoul]

Risotto x Reader: “I’m All Yours”

It seemed to be early in the morning. At least, that’s what your body told you, as you tossed and turned, searching for those last few minutes of peaceful slumber. Yet you couldn’t remain still for very long; something didn’t feel right. You didn’t sense the birds chirping outside the window, the bright morning sunlight penetrating through your eyelids. Slowly, you blinked. You gasped as you took in your surroundings.

It was a dim and dank cellar. Barrels of food or wine or something of the sort were strewn against the walls, and at the very center stood a wooden ladder. You scrambled to your feet, your first instinct being to approach the exit. But you gasped as you heard a metallic clang, the pain of a tight restraint boring into your wrists. Your hands were shackled behind your back, and you tugged frantically at the chain attached to the floor. Then your memories came flooding back.

You were just walking down the street: nothing unusual, nothing out of the ordinary. It was late at night, and you were heading home after work as you normally did. Suddenly, a cry split through the air. Though fear permeated your thoughts, your curiosity still drove you to the source of the sound, a dark alleyway just a block down. You peered past the corner.

A pool of crimson blood, slowly expanding, underneath a mangled figure of a woman. A dark form stood over her body, a sharp knife glinting in his hand. Your breaths grew rapid as adrenaline surged through your body. You quickly reached for your phone, and then, a sound. Your keys dangled against your purse, giving off a soft metallic clink. Your blood ran cold.

The tall dark man who had been looming over the body flashed his eyes towards you, and you gasped. The whites of his eyes… They weren't white. They were a deep, shining, obsidian black. His bright red irises pierced through your very soul as you squirmed under his scrutiny. Should you run? Should you fight? Before you could even react, you felt a burning sensation in your core. A faint, shimmering mist cut through the air. Your muscles grew rigid, and you couldn’t breathe. A shining figure appeared before your eyes. It was an ethereal being, larger than a mere human, glinting in the dim moonlight as it lunged for the figure before you.

However, its reach was blocked as a sharp blade emerged from the pool of blood on the cobblestone ground beneath you. Your head felt dizzy and your knees week as he smirked and began to approach you. The glowing form that had been protecting you continued to strike, to struggle. You would fight your way out of this situation. That was your only hope.

But then, a wet cloth covering your mouth from behind. A foul smell. Darkness.

And now, you were here.

You heard the faint click of a latch, a figure descended the ladder. The pace of your heart quickened as he jumped, catlike, from the second to last step, and you saw his eyes. Those same piercing crimson eyes. Even looking at them made you tear up. He glowered over you, noticing your frail and defeated form underneath him.

“So you're awake,” You snarled, rising to your feet against the chains that tied you to the ground. You knew it had to be a gang, and you knew you had to fight back. It wasn't the smartest course of action, but your instincts to you that you simply couldn't remain quiet.

“Yes,” You sneered, “I’m awake. So, if you would kindly let me be on my way.” You inched as close to his face as you could, trying your best not to tear up from just looking into those terrifying eyes. “I saw nothing,” you conceded. “I have no affiliation with whoever you’re after, no information to give you. Let. Me. Go.” You punctuated each work by yanking your arms against the restraints, though it came to not avail. Your wrists merely ended up sore and bruised. Then, you gasped, as he tilted your chin up, inspecting your face with his blood red orbs. You grew hot with rage as he spoke.

“If you had just been an innocent bystander, we would have killed you on the spot,” You grunted as he shoved your chained body to the floor, his muscular frame still looking down on you with disdain and… curiosity. “No,” he chuckled “You're far more interesting.” Your mind flooded with only one thought: attack. You sprang at him, though he leapt back just out of reach of your restraints.

But then, it reappeared. That same shimmering figure, lunging for his throat. Your head felt dizzy again, and the form faltered. What… what was this thing? You collapsed to your knees in shock and awe, never before had you seen anything like this: nothing paranormal or supernatural. How could you know it wasn't just a hallucination?

“There it is,” The man’s voice was full of intrigue as the being mirrored your own actions, falling to its knees. “It’s beautiful, powerful.” He inspected the spirit with a hungry glare, circling it slowly. You felt uncomfortable under the gaze, as if he were inspecting your own body, and you had a sudden urge to hide yourself. However, his eyes soon snapped back on you. His strong steps echoed through the cellar as he strode to your side. His hand gripped your shoulder, harshly, and you winced as he pulled you to standing. His stare bored into your eyes, and you had trouble maintaining eye contact under his intimidation.

“You have two choices: die, or kill.”

As much as you detested the mafia, the situation wasn't terrible. You were permitted to come and leave as you pleased, visit your home even if you wished. But you were still the willing slave of the La Squadra assassination squad. You were given your own housing with the gang, and were encouraged to get to know the other members, as you would be working with them “till the day you died”. The man with the red eyes was the leader of the company, Risotto Nero was his name. Whenever he had a mission for you, he would suddenly materialise to whisk you away. Whether you were walking through the streets of Venice, lounging on the couch at headquarters, or even sleeping quietly in your bed, he would slink out of the darkness with a commanding urgency as he ordered you to follow him.

He hated it when you talked back, but you always questioned him about your supposed victim. You were not one to let your sense of justice slide so easily, and you were determined to keep a firm grip on your own freedom. Yet he still called you upon for the more dangerous assassinations. He scowled at your temper but didn't punish you for it. You even grew fond of this dynamic between you two, enjoying the missions you took on together.

You sat in the large and comfortable armchair, reading a book. It was late evening, just after dinner, and much of the gang was playing poker at the table in the corner.

“Come on, (y/n)!” Ghiaccio whined at you. “Don't you wanna join us?” You rolled your eyes, knowing he just wanted some more money in the pile.

“No thank you,” You drawled. “I am perfectly content where I am.” You shook your head as several of the men groaned in annoying.

“Of course you are,” Formaggio chuckled. “Because you're (y/n)! And you're so perfect and beautiful,” His tone was sarcastic and mocking as you faced flushed.

“W-What? I’m not like that!” He laughed at your denial, and you snapped back, “Shut up cheese head!” The entire group snickered at the retort, but Ghiaccio continued what he had started.

“Oh, look at me,” He put on a high and girlish voice, twirling his hair and acting like an oblivious idiot. “I’m (y/n), and I’m so wonderful and pretty, and my stand is so powerful!” You clenched your fist at his terrible impression of you. “And the boss is so in love with me! He takes me on all his missions like his little pet–”

“Wait, stop! What?!” You stammered out. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest and your head felt light at his silly comments. He dropped the act as he leaned back in his chair with a mischievous grin. “That’s not... He even doesn't like me. We’re a good team together but–”

“You're so cute, (y/n).” You gritted your teeth at Prosciutto’s teasing words. “It's obvious how interested in you he is. I haven't had a job in at least a week because he gives everything to you.” Your eyebrows raised in confusion. He certainly was impressed by your abilities, you stand was admittedly incredible, but Risotto wasn't… He didn't have feelings for you… did he?

You arose from the chair and stormed to the table, slamming your hands firmly on its surface to end their stupid little poker game.

“Wait, you didn't know?” Formaggio feigned surprise as he continued to taunt you. Something about their insolence was making your blood boil. Maybe because they had managed to uncover some of your own true feelings for Risotto. But the comments continued to swirl through your brain as the boys joked around the table.

“I thought they had already gotten together.”

“Nah, but (y/n) totally digs him,”

“Don't deny it!”

“It’s obvious how he feels–”

“Aww, look at her blush,”

“–he gets rock hard whenever you walk in the room!”

“SHUT THE HELL UP!” the commotion abruptly silenced at your harsh yell as you flung your arms in the air out of exasperation. You could hear your pulse muffled in your ears as you took a deep breath, struggling to calm yourself, to deal with the situation in a rational manner. Then, a soft voice from behind you.

“(Y/n)–”

“Shut the hell up or I swear to god I will–” You gasped, your words halting and your jaw hanging open as you spun around to see those bright red eyes. You heard Ghiaccio’s giggle at your side, and you promptly dug your heel into his foot. You feigned a calm composure as he stifled a cry of pain, though adrenaline still surged through your veins, as you stammered.

“Y-Yes boss,” He looked down his nose at you, and everyone else in the room, with disapproval. It seemed he hadn’t heard the discussion, but he sensed the frivolity of the conversation.

“I’ve located the target. We’re leaving tonight. Get in the car” You nodded as he turned and left the room. That was how the missions always began. But as soon as you left the room, you heard Formaggio’s voice.

“Go get it (y/n)!”

“Drop dead, cheesehead.”

He was standing by the door, waiting for you once you had grabbed your necessary weapons and gear. But you froze.

“What is it this time?” he sighed, rolling his eyes. You were at a loss for words. You wanted to act like you had always acted around him: stubborn, haughty, mocking in the slightest. However, you just couldn’t…

“Risotto,” He lifted his eyebrow as you began to speak. “I was thinking,” Your thoughts swirled between confidence, doubt, annoyance. You sighed in defeat. “You don’t have time for relationships, do you?” You didn’t believe that was what had come out of your mouth, but it was the truth. Risotto was focused on the goal more than anything else in his life. He was in love with La Squadra. Not you.

“(Y/n),” You shivered as he spoke your name, but tried hardest to maintain your calm outward composure as he approached you. “What are you talking about?” Your face flushed  as he drew nearer, his terrifying eyes giving off that same sinister glare. But over the months you had spent with him, you had learned to appreciate something else his intimidating stare. His eyes were… beautiful. They sparkled like rubies in the fitting that was his black sclera. But you quickly drew your focus away from his features, as you struggled to answer his question.

“I mean,” You took a deep breath. You knew you were going to sound like an idiot, but there was no other way to put it. “You’re not in a position to pursue romance.” Your eye contact immediately broke from his on the last word, as you were far too nervous to gauge his reaction. “Are you?” His feet stayed firmly planted, however. In fact, he took a step closer towards you. Your fists clenched out of nervousness. You backed away almost instinctively, not realising you had hit the wall.

Suddenly, his hand slammed beside your face. You gasped, looking up into his eyes. You couldn’t quite tell what lay beyond those red orbs, whether it was anger or disappointment or something else entirely. You flinched as he brought his palm to your cheek, cupping it gently as he inspected your expression. Your body almost melted against the wall behind you.

He could very easily kill you. It was a thought that rarely came to your mind, but it was true nonetheless. You joked with him and teased him, but you never went too far for fear of what he could do to you. And you felt that same fear again as he took one final step towards you. You could feel his breath on your lips, and you held back a shudder as his body caged you to the wall.

But then, he leaned in. You gasped as his lips met yours and his torso pressed against your chest. The shock left you rigid and trembling at first, however, gradually, your hands raised to his chest. You swear you heard him emit a low groan as you placed your palms on his bare breast. His lips were soft, but his touch was rough as commanding as he firmly bucked his hips into yours. You didn’t expect this audacity, and suck in a shallow breath as you let out a small whimper. But you could feel Risotto smirk into the kiss, as he teasingly bit your lip. You tried your best not to moan in pleasure as he trailed his hand down your waist, your hip, your thigh. You couldn’t help but drag your own palms across his chest, groping and squeezing in the rhythm of the kiss. His tongue ran along your bottom lip, pleading entrance.

As you slowly began to part your lips, he shoved you to the wall once again, taking advantage of your gasp to run his tongue along the inside of your mouth. At this point, both his hands grasped your hips, migrating up and down along your curves, leaving no area untouched. His knee rested itself in between your thighs, and you shivered with the strange sensation of vulnerability.

Eventually, you had to break away, both of you panting as he stared into your eyes. You were mesmerised. You would have flushed in embarrassment and looked away, if it weren’t for those sparkling rubies. His hands continued to rub up and down your lower back as he took a shuddering breath.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” If it was possibly for your heart to race even faster, it did as you heard those words. “Since I saw you, your stand,” Risotto had never opened up like this before, not to you, not to any of the members of La Squadra.

He stopped his words, and instead, gently pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth, trailing kisses down your jaw. He proceeded to suck at your neck, and your hands subconsciously slithered to clasp his own hips, forcing them closer as he gasped. His tender lips continued to the top of your breast as you bit your lip, holding in a groan of pleasure. To your dismay, his hands left your hips, but your eyes widened in shock as he threw his jacket to the floor, never breaking his lips away from your flesh. Your hands continued to explore every inch of his muscular frame as he gently bit your collarbone. You gasped as you felt him squeeze your rear, and arched back against the wall as he licked your neck, returning back to your lips.

However, he merely placed a small peck on them before breaking away from you. You whimpered in frustration as he turned to grab his coat. You could see his face was heated, his hands trembling, and he was altogether unsettled as he dressed himself. But he whipped around to face you once again.

“Just one more mission,” he panted, his voice low and sultry. “One more assassination, and after that.” He pulled your lips firmly to his as he grasped your ass. “I’m all yours.”