#risotto oneshot

[icerisotto]

[ : MASTERLIST : ]

❛ guide. ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

☆ = fluff.

✦ = smut.

♡ = angst.

✶ = crack.

♱ = content warning.

��� = longfic.

✿ = oneshot.

✹ = shortfic.

✧ = scenario.

❥ ' la squadra di esecuzione. ﹒ ﹢

⌦ la squadra headcanons and scenarios. — multiship. (☆✦♡✶♱✧)

⌦ la squadra with a silent teammate. — no ship. (☆♡✧)

⌦ giorno libero. — poly la squadra di esecuzione minus pesci (✦✿).

⌦ marmelatta di fragole. — background risotto﹢ ghiaccio﹢ prosciutto (✦♡♱❀).

⌦ goffo. — background poly la squadra di esecuzione minus pesci (☆✶♱✿).

⌦ luminare. — background risotto﹢ ghiaccio﹢ prosciutto and formaggio (☆♡✶✿).

⌦ spirito. — background risotto﹢ ghiaccio﹢ prosciutto, sorbet﹢ gelato and mentioned la squadra di esecuzione (✦♡♱✹).

⌦ veleno. — risotto﹢ ghiaccio﹢ prosciutto (♡♱✹).

⌦ freddezza. — ghiaccio﹢ prosciutto (✦♡♱✿).

⌦ sorveglianza. — ghiaccio﹢ melone (✦✿).

⌦ guinea pig. — poly la squadra di esecuzione minus pesci (✦✶✿).

⌦ slumber party. — ghiaccio﹢ secco, background la squadra di esecuzione and cioccolata (✦✶✿).

⌦ kiss and make up. — ghiaccio﹢ prosciutto and background la squadra di esecuzione (✦✶♱✿).

⌦ the hat stays on. — ghiaccio﹢ risotto and background la squadra di esecuzione (✦♱✿).

❥ ' squadra guardie del corpo. ﹒ ﹢

⌦ marmelatta di fragole. — mista﹢ bucciarati﹢ abbacchio (✦♡♱❀).

⌦ smelly cowboy trilogy. — mista﹢ bucciarati﹢ abbacchio (☆✦♱✿).

⌦ goffo. — background mista﹢ bucciarati﹢ abbacchio (☆✶♱✿).

⌦ squalo affamato. — mista﹢ bucciarati (☆✦♡♱✿).

⌦ luminare. — mista﹢ bucciarati (☆♡✶✿).

⌦ spirito. — mista﹢ bucciarati﹢ abbacchio and squadra guardie del corpo (✦♡♱✹).

⌦ soldato. — mista﹢ bucciarati﹢ abbacchio (☆✿).

⌦ chimerico. — mista﹢ bucciarati (♡♱✿).

⌦ spuntino. — mista﹢ bucciarati﹢ abbacchio (☆✦♡✿).

⌦ penitenza. — mista﹢ bucciarati﹢ abbacchio (☆✦♱✿).

❥ ' l'unità speciale. ﹒ ﹢

⌦ slumber party. — ghiaccio﹢ secco, background cioccolata (✦✶✿).

⌦ doctor's prescription. — cioccolata﹢ secco (✦♱✿).

[chronicallyonline101]

Requested by anon!

I really liked this request, I was originally going to do something small with just HCs but i thought of a cute little scenario and I wanted to share it... the oneshot REALLY isnt that good and its ends quite abruptly because TUMBLR decided to delete my entire draft and i had to start again BUT ITS FINE. ITS WHATEVER. i hope you like this!

Public Enemy #1

La Squadra Di Esecuzioni x Ex-Idol!Reader || HCs and small oneshot.

- So, you're an idol. Everyone loves you, everyone wants to be you! But it's kind of... bad. It's bad. It's overwhelming, tiring, and stressful - what had once been a fun hobby quickly turned sour, with managers and agents always on your back about how much you weighed, how good you looked, how well you sang.

- Eventually, it stopped being fun, and turned to a chore. You hated it, you hated who you had become. I'm not sure what you did to get out of it, but something bad happened and you ran away.

- And what better place to go when you run away, than to a criminal organisation!

- I think, to join Passione, you would have had to totally wipe your identity - there is NO way they would let someone famous like yourself join, but since you had never really been that popular in Italy they allowed you the courtesy of an identity wipe.

- New hair, new clothes, new name - you had become someone new, and it was perfect. Of course, there were still traces of your old self.

- Risotto was the only one who knew who you had been, because he was your boss - and because of this, he was fiercely protective of keeping your identity a secret. For the protection of the team, and for yourself.

- There were times when you were out with public and someone would notice. They'd do a double take, staring at you while they tried to figure out where it was they had recognised your face, but in the end they'd be scared off by the wolfish man hovering over your shoulder.

- And of course, no one else on the team knew why he acted like that, because they had all been kept in the dark regarding your identity. Which you hoped would last - it was embarrassing.

- None of them seemed like the kind of people to have listened to the music you made, so you assumed none of them would have seen you, even at your peak - but, of course, nothing ever went your way, did it?

It was a day like no other. Napoli, Italy, though saddled with industrial waste and shittily built tat-shops, was a thrilling place. Palm leaves, dried up in the midday sun and carried along by a sweeping oceanic breeze, would rattle across the ground and flitter between the unsteady feet of tourists. In the summer, the sky was always blue and puffy clouds were never there to hinder the beaming sun. It was truly the perfect place.

But by far, the best thing about Napoli was that; absolutely no one knew who you were. And that is what you needed, after the shit-show that had been your life - your fame, though prominent in the West, had never peaked throughout mainland Europe, and so the shores of Italy had proven a safe place for you to lay down low while you recuperated from the glitzy, glamorous life that had been your upbringing. It was with this thought, and a long, pleasant sigh, you walked down the dry, cobble street. A brisk skip in your step and a small smile spread across your lips, that was until, the broad-shouldered man in front of you suddenly halted all movement.

An unsteady huff left your body when you walked right into his back, and you tumbled backward unsteadily. "Eugh, hey! Maggie, what's the hold up---"

"---Hey, we should stop in here." Formaggio's gritty voice called out. He looked to you over his shoulder, a mischievous grin etching into his typically calm features.

You caught your footing, shooting him a glare that was quick to fade when he turned to point at the building he had been talking about. Your gaze shifted toward the shop. It was a scraggly thing; dirtied windows framed by wood with peeling red paint, it had a few posters plastered across the door - worn with age and torn at their edges. It looked like the kind of place you'd get stabbed, and so, seeking to evade any more conflict than what was needed, you took to Formaggio's side and nudged at him to continue forward.

"We don't have time for that, we're on a mission, remember? That guy isn't going to kill himself." You looked to him with wide, pleading eyes. An expression he chose to ignore in favour of wafting a dismissive hand in your direction.

"Eh, relax a little." He slapped a hand atop of your shoulder blades, guiding you toward the shop with ease. "Like you said, that guy isn't gonna kill himself - which means, he isn't going anywhere! Let's take a second to look at this place, it looks cool."

He offered you no such chance to disagree, promptly pushing you forward and into the rugged building. A rusty bell chimed above your heads as you waltzed inside, and upon entry, an old musty smell hit your nose.

Your gaze trailed across the small, humble establishment. It was just as bad inside as it was outside; walls plastered in peeling white paint, stained yellow over years of use and lit by a singular flickering bulb. Racks of shelving lined the walls, and on them rows upon rows of vinyl's and CD's. It was a music shop, or at least, some sort of pop-culture centred parlour. A small greeting met your ears, your eyes following in its direction to see an old, haggard man. Face lined with webs from years and years of work.

With a grimace, you subconsciously leant closer to Formaggio. "It looks like the owner sells drugs."

The bastard only offered you a grin in response.

"Exactly." And it was with that, he pushed himself off of you and went forth to browse the contents of this strange shop.

Formaggio was the only one really interested in this stuff; he eyed all of the CDs and vinyl's with a strange interest. You flittered behind him with a palpable boredom. Biting you cheek and fiddling with your nails, only taking mild interest when he suddenly let out a loud, unfiltered gasp and yanked a large CD from the shelving unit.

"Shit, I haven't listened to them in forever!" He gasped, and you eyed him from your peripherals narrowly. 

"Who?" You mumbled, while you edged closer to him, peering over his shoulder to look at the CD he was holding. 

It was glittery, blindingly so, and cartoonish. It's front was coated in old, peeling stickers; a sign that it was likely second-hand, and probably belonged to some frilly teenage girl before it found itself in this sad shop. It made you sick to your stomach. All those neon colours reminded you of a time you'd really rather not think of, and then, when your eyes finally landed on the lone person stood in the middle; poised with nylon and sheer, you let out a loud gasp. 

"OH, THAT'S--- I---" You stammered, taking a few cautionary steps backward. Your eyes flickered between Formaggio and the CD, unsure of who to look at. "That's, uh, not the kind of stuff I thought you'd be into, Formaggio!" 

He offered you a plain frown, a small mocking laugh leaving his lips. "Ha, ha, make fun of me all you want. It's good music." He ran a delicate finger down the side of the CD. Dust pooled where is finger met the edge, showcasing how little love the small thing received. "I used to listen to it when I was younger. They were a good singer... plus, I kinda had a crush on them." 

He felt heat rise to his cheeks, he was sure if he had been any paler then there would likely be a visible flush. He rubbed at the nape of his neck meekly, hoping you hadn't taken note of his sudden shyness. Luckily for him, of course, you were rather preoccupied in a hectic world of your own. Eyes scanning the CD as if it had offended your whole bloodline - and then, his words finally settled in your head, and you were awash with the knowledge that he had a crush on you? Well... not you, your idol persona, the one you had abandoned years ago. It was still surprising!  

You cleared your throat, attempting to maintain some semblance of nonchalance's. "Oh, really?" 

"Don't look at me like that!" He pried open his jacket and tucked the CD into an inner-pocket; casually thieving, as if the owner of the shop wasn't sat only a few feet away. "I was young, I was horny, I liked music."

"You don't still have a crush on them, do you?" Your brow quirked at the man, tilting your gaze to look at the owner - praising when you saw he was distracted by counting what was inside his cash register. "They were like, seventeen there---"

"---No! What kind of monster do you take me for, (Y/N)? I mean, I kill people, not---" Formaggio suddenly shook his head. "That doesn't matter. You can't tell anyone on the team I like this shit, okay? They'll tear me apart..." 

You understood his embarrassment on a truthful level - for you were the one who made that album. Nonetheless, you only nodded your head at him, remaining coy as you slapped a hand on his back and began guiding him toward the door of the shop. 

"Sure thing, Maggie." 

"You know," He mumbled, eyeing you through the corner of his gaze as the two of you exited the building and were bathed once again in the warm Italian sun. "You kind of look like them."

Heat arose to the tips of your cheeks. "Don't say that after admitting to having a crush on them." 

He let out a short hum, leaning closer to have a long, proper look at you. 

"It's true though," He poked a finger into your cheek. "You look just like them, but like, an evil fucked up version of them. Like, if they quit their job and joined the mafia and turned evil." He let out a short chuckle at his own words, not taking note of how nervous and clammy you had suddenly become. Secretly, you praised how hot Italy could be in the summer - at least you had something to blame for the sweat that formed at your brow. 

"Well, that's stupid! Haha!" You swallowed thickly, wafting a dismissive hand in his direction. He was startled at your sudden shift in mood, lips parting to question if you were okay, but he was given no such chance to do so when you began to march forward. "Come on! Let's go complete our hit! That guy is waiting for us to kill him!" 

You'd refused to talk about the subject with Formaggio for the rest of the evening. Secretly, you resented that he had stolen the CD - you should have said something; done something in the moment to stop him from taking it. Maybe if you'd made fun of him more he'd of gotten embarrassed, but instead you humoured him and now there was a picture of you dressed all glittery and pretty sat about the hideout just waiting for someone smarter and more logical to find it and immediately point out that the person was you. A

It wasn't even that big of a deal. It wasn't humiliating - you'd loved being an idol. But it was the weight that came with it you despised. Sitting in a small, dimly lit dressing room all alone - the neon lights of the city reflecting off of glass windows and hitting your face in an eerie light, a light that highlighted the eyebags that hung deep beneath your sockets. Your face had once been plastered across billboards; all atop of the charts, on the wall of every bedroom of every teenager everywhere. You were lovable, you were beautiful, you were everything and you despised it. When that scandal happened, when your entire world crumbled apart around you; after your final performance, when adoring whispers turned to hushed accusations and the cameras flashed not with love but with desperation, you vanished. Now, your only company was a group of men whose names couldn't be uttered in public without bringing forth laughter. Men whose lives were build on lies, blood and money. 

Such is why, in a panicked frenzy, you found yourself pacing back and forth in the dimly lit office of your boss - Risotto Nero, who, with a dull crimson gaze, offered you a mildly concerned glare. This wasn't the first time you had done this. You were prone to your outbursts of anxiety, and so he was never truly worried for your wellbeing. 

With your hands pressed to your forehead, you halted before his desk. "I don't know what to do." 

"Mm." His gaze lowered to his paperwork. He began to write some things down, not really paying attention to your worried words.

"Realistically, nothing will happen if they all find out," You began pacing again. "But, like, it all changes at the same time."

"Of course."

"And then, I've gotta like, be this person I don't want to be."

"Yeah." 

He wasn't listening. With a frown, you halted your pacing and walked towards his desk, slamming your hands down in front of him with urgency. Any ordinary person would jump out of their skin in surprise, but not Risotto, he was too stoic for that - the large, burly leader merely lifted his gaze toward you, lethargic in his movements as always. 

"And you know me, Riz, I don't want to have to pretend anymore! I don't want to be someone I'm not." You stared at him with a deep determination, a frown etched thoroughly into your lips. 

It was with this, that it finally seemed to click in his head. "Oh, this is about...?" 

Risotto was the only one who knew of your past. He had to, as your leader, and well... he was the one who had changed it all. You drowned your sorrows in at a secluded bar far from town, hidden, where no one would know you - where you could be yourself. But you were never safe. You'd gotten into an altercation, a fight that you had really wished to avoid and when your harasser collapsed mid-fight, overwhelmed with blood and blades, you caught sight of the dark, calculating man. He seemed soulless. He had told you he hated conflict when it was not needed, and you had told him you were indebted to him - such is how you ended up following his shadow into the life you now lead. 

But you liked it. In a strange way, it felt safter than the empty life you had lived before. They were your new family - strange, dangerous and at times infuriating - but they had protected you, and you had protected them. They'd kept you alive when everyone else had turned their backs on you. And at first you were terrified, of course you were, but as days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, and months turned into years, you'd learnt the nuances of their lives. They weren't monsters, or demons, or any kind of sick villain; they were scared people trying to survive in a world that had no mercy. You were the same, and that is why you were so scared to reveal yourself - what if things changed? What if they saw you differently? What if they started treating you differently? 

You were starting to panic, breathing heavy and ragged, unaware that Risotto had risen from his seat and instead moved to stand before you; not until you were being enveloped by his warm embrace. You shook against his chest, grasping at his odd harness for some sort of stability - this action, a warm embrace, wasn't something Risotto enjoyed giving, but for you, he did. He had always been soft on you, you had never really known why. 

"Tell me what happened today." He uttered, and though his voice was soft, from where your head was planted against his chest you could feel his throat rumbling with each word. A short, overwhelmed sigh passed your lips, and you clung closer to your stoic leader. 

"It's nothing serious." Was your revelation. You closed your eyes and nestled yourself further into his body - relishing in the warmth he seemed to radiate. "I'm freaking out over nothing..."

He stood as still as a rock, worried that any straying movement would scare you off. Like a fickle bird, one wayward gust away from flying to another room. He gently pat your back, albeit a bit awkwardly. He had never had to comfort anyone before. "But you're freaking out, which means that something is bothering you."

Was his reasoning. You despised how, despite his lack of social grounding, he still somehow managed to be so good at getting those around him to confide and spill their problems with him. 

"Well..." You started, your gaze straying to the side. "Formaggio picked up one of my old CDs today."

"Ah, and you are worried he will realise it's you?" A look of revelation befell his once emotionless expression. Concern filled his crimson glare, that had now splayed wide open to look at you with the upmost concern. You tried to hide your face from him - beginning to grow embarrassed that you had been so worried over something as minimal as your past. 

"He's a little dull." You huffed, promptly pushing yourself off of Risotto. Your cheeks were warm, and you kept your gaze to the floor in an attempt to evade how flustered you had become. "He didn't realise it at first, but I'm worried that someone else will realise. Like, Ghiaccio or someone smart." 

Looking down at you, Risotto cocked a brow. It seemed you were coming to reason now, and so he crossed his arms over his chest and continued with a little more profession than he had been only moments prior. "What is the worst thing that could happen if they realise?"

He teetered around you - attempting, though failing, to look at your face and get a proper read of your features. You evaded his eyes as if he were some sort of plague. 

"I don't know..." You then whined, placing your hands on your head with worry. "They make fun of me or something."

"Don't they do that anyways?" He postulated, and you frowned. 

Finally, you lifted your gaze to look Risotto in the eye. An expression of great horror had settled across your usually jovial features. "Well... it'll be worse. They might try and make me sing." 

At that, he fought the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he opted to cross his arms over his chest and turn away from you, returning to his desk promptly. "They won't care, (Y/N), we all have our pasts. Even if yours is a little... unorthodox."

He flinched when a loud, displeased groan left your throat. "That's the issue! What am I supposed to do when they all find out that instead of being a hardcore mafioso, I'm actually a washed up, prissy little pop-star with nothing else---"

"---Really!?"

When a cocky voice cut through the air, both you and Risotto had been startled. To your left, stood smugly inside a large, full-length mirror that had been leant against the wall of Risotto's office, was the one teammate that would spread this information in less than a minute. 

"Illuso," You growled, a sound of warning which he refused to listen to. Laughing, he took a few cautionary steps backward, and grinned wildly when you started charging toward the mirror. "Don't you dare---! Fuck! ILLUSO! OUCH---!"

You tried to dive into the mirror world after him, but instead faceplanted the glass surface and fell to the ground with a loud thud. You could hear his devious cackles from within the mirror realm, rage bubbled within your chest - God, you hated Illuso sometimes; he was the worst possible person to find out about this. With a glare fuelled by fury, you scrambled back up to your feet and darted toward the door to the office, you were about to leave and chase after Illuso, but not before shooting Risotto a glare. 

"Why the Hell is there a mirror in your office!?"

Startled, the stoic man glanced back and forth between you and the object of offense. "I... don't... know...?" 

As you'd expected, Illuso had likely put these around the hideout without anyone realising as a means to stalk. More rage simmered within you at the thought, and with nothing else to say to Risotto you dove out of his office and into the main area of the hideout. You could practically see Illuso as you ran; in every picture frame and dirtied doorhandle, he raced along side you to see who could get to the others first and when you both made it to the main living-area, you hardly gave him a chance to emerge from the mirror - practically tearing him from it as you dove atop of him. 

The living room had been quiet, save for the gentle hum of the television and rustling of papers, courtesy of Prosciutto and Pesci - one who sat with a cup of tea and some paperwork, while the other watched something meaningless on the TV. Both hardly even lifted their gazes to look at you while you wrestled Illuso to the ground, having since grown used to the commotion in the hideout. 

"Ow-! Watch the hair!" Illuso plead, struggling while you straddled his waist. He lay prone - on his stomach, while you pinned him from behind and smushed his face into the dirty, silverfish infested carpet. 

"Watch your mouth," You practically seethed, pushing his head further into the carpet. Maybe if you pushed hard enough you'd smother him. He wriggled beneath you, trying hard to struggle against your tight hold. "Stop moving!"

With ease, he lifted himself. You were thrown off of his back and onto the ground - in a matter of moments the situation flipped and he was on top of you. He clamped a hand over your mouth, muffling your loud cries of protest with a wicked smile. "I think you should stop moving," He cackled, lifting his gaze to look across the room.

Prosciutto and Pesci, for the most part, were still minding their own business - the younger and greener of the two offered you both a concerned side-eye, but other than that kept to himself. He knew Risotto was in his office, and in the other room, only just visible through a doorway to the living area, he could see the remaining three members of the team idling about. Deviously, Illuso took a large inhale, spouting out a loud:

"Hey! Everyone! You'll never guess what I just learnt--! Mpph!!!" 

But he never got the chance to spread your darkest secrets, for in a last act of desperation you called out your stand to throw him off of you. He landed at the edge of a coffee table only a few feet away, sputtering from the sudden force in which his body had been thrown and you were to quick to claim your place atop of him - this time, with a pillow you had snatched from the couch. You tackled him to the floor again, this time holding the pillow over his face as a means to get him to shut his loud mouth. His cries for help were muffled; the sound was true bliss for your ears. 

"Hey, Fratello," Pesci tore his eyes away from the TV, eyeing the two of you on the floor with a growing worry. He half thought you were trying to kill Illuso. "Should we do something about that...?" 

His question had been directed at his blond brother, who in response, merely took a long, hard sip of his tea. He didn't even bother lifting his gaze from the paperwork before him, uncaring for the troubles and toils of his teammates - much like Risotto, in a colder, harsher way. "No." Was his response, and when Pesci's gaze turned quizzical, he huffed out a reasoning: "Let them get it out of their system."  

- Eventually, after nearly suffocating Illuso to death, Prosciutto did stop you. In your petty fight for dominance, you ended up knocking over a drink and spilling a sticky juice all over the carpet - that really ticked him off, and a quick kick to your side had you reeling on the floor in pain and he was authorative in telling you both off for messy, inappropriate behaviour.

- And of course, the scolding brought forth interest from the rest of the team. Ghiaccio, Melone and Formaggio who had been chatting amongst themselves in the other room had since entered.

- With you on the floor, nothing stopped Illuso from spilling the secret you had kept to yourself for so many years. It was nauseating, you felt like you were going to throw up - but, no one reacted like you had expected them to.

- Ghiaccio thought Illuso's mission to humiliate you was stupid, and he had no time for idiotic games that the rest of you liked to play.

- Melone admitted that he had known for years, after conducting several DNA tests on you - without your knowledge, might I add - and had simply kept to himself on the matter.

- Formaggio, the one most likely to make fun of you for such a thing, had no right to mock you since he had admitted only hours prior of his affection for your idol persona.

- Pesci, too, liked listening to that music, but much like Formaggio had kept to himself out of fear of mockery. He thought it was cool that you had such an interesting past.

- And much like Ghiaccio, Prosciutto had no reason to mock or bully you for something so trivial.

- BUT YEAH. they were all chill, and you were freaking out for no reason!

- Well, maybe there was SOME reason behind freaking out, because things did kinda change after that.

- Formaggio, though already flirty, became even more obvious with his advancements. He didn't try to hide the fact that he had a crush on you - he had already told you, technically, so why not just act on it? You never seemed to complain about his insistent affection.

- Sometimes, he'd ask you to sing for him, like a live performance! You always said no. Maybe you did give him one once or twice when you were really drunk, but you don't remember it so it doesn't count. You close your eyes and cover your ears whenever Illuso tries to show you the video footage.

- Oh, and Illuso, was still the worst ever. Like Formaggio, he liked to tease you by asking you to perform for them, except his requests came from a place of malice rather than appreciation.

- Though his bullying was just thinly veiled affection.

- The rest of the team however, treated you normally. Perhaps with a bit of nerves, now that they knew you were a missing persons case - but more confidence was developed between you and them. They were a team built on trust, and once you overcame your worries and shared your story with them, you grew closer with them.

i think i could write more on this when i have time... so there may be a part 2...

---

I WASNT SURE HOW TO FINISH THIS IM REALLY SORRY... i hope its nice! if not i can rewrite it!!!

[thatredheadwriter]

absolution

javi gutierrez x reader (2.7k)

Javi misses your date and has some making up to do.

A/N: This started because I was listening to MAMMAMIA by Maneskin on repeat and I couldn’t stop thinking about Javi G on his knees in front of his lady. These two love the pants off of each other (literally).

This is an NSFW oneshot for female reader with Javi Gutierrez of The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent. This work contains smut and mature language and should not be read by those under 18. As a writer, I will attempt to make accurate warnings for each of my fics, however, I cannot guarantee that I will identify each and every sensitive topic. My works regularly contain swearing, allusions to/mentions of sex, and canon-level violence.

Content Includes (but is not limited to):

fiance!Javi

some D/s dynamics (not hardcore)

dom!reader

sub!Javi

use of religious language to describe sex (there’s a theme, idk)

oral sex (male + female receiving)

anal fingering (male receiving), just a little as a treat

a very sexy dress (link in case you’re having trouble visualizing)

Please read at your own discretion and remember to consume your fanfiction responsibly.

-

10:42 pm

You’re seething as the numbers tick higher on the small clock beside the huge king-sized bed. One thing that never changed in all the hotels you visited with Javi, they all had the same shitty, annoying alarm clock sitting by the bed.

Shooting for this most recent project had so many locations–between photography, location shoots, studio shoots–and Javi insisted on being there for all of them. You’ve spent the last eight months crisscrossing the globe after your fiance and his passion project, watching him work to the bone for some sort of perceived perfection while the rest of the world turned on without him.

Tonight was supposed to be different.

Javi made reservations at the hotel restaurant for seven o’clock and promised he would be there. In all your time knowing him, he’d never broken a date with you, or anyone for that matter. But when eight o’clock rolled around, you settled back in your chair, called the waitress over, and ordered.

The mushroom risotto was delicious and the chardonnay tasted as expensive as it billed. You had the rest of the bottle sent up to your room for good measure. And now you’re waiting. Because good food and wine have sated your hunger, but not your fire.

It’s not until 11:03 that you hear the electronic click of the lock and your fiance finally enters the room. He strides in with his back to you,

“Late night?” you clear your throat and retrieve your half-finished glass from the low table by your seat.

Javi turns on a dime and his mouth falls open. Even from your seat across the room, you can practically see his pupils dilate as he takes in your form, clad in the sexiest dress you’d ever braved. It featured a false wrap-style v-neck, and for the kicker–double thigh slits. If you moved a certain way, it was clear you weren’t wearing underwear beneath.

You’d shown up at dinner dressed to the nines, dripping in the jewelry Javi had bought you over the years. And you’d left the same way. In the suite, you’d dressed down, putting your heels away in the small closet and taking everything off except for the earrings you always left in and the pendant he’d gifted you for your first anniversary–a single blue-green sapphire set in white gold that hung just perfectly at the crest of your cleavage.

“It’s the same color as the sea back home. Reminds me of you, because well, you’re my home too,” he’d explained as you had looked over it speechlessly.

“Have you eaten? My dinner was delicious,” you stand and turn your body to face the window, but your eyes stay on him.

You see it in his eyes. The exact moment he remembers the date he planned and everything he promised you, swept up in time and replaced with this crackling tension between you.

“Mi amor,” his face pales instantly as he crosses the room to you, but you hardly give him a glance. Instead, you lazily sip at the wine in your glass and circle the room to maintain your distance. “Please forgive me. I got caught up at work. I’m so sorry.”

“I waited for you, Javi,” you finish the wine and set the glass on top of a dresser, striding languidly towards the bed. “Alone in that damn restaurant.”

“Fuck, my love, it was never my intention to leave you there tonight. The shooting ran late and then the director wanted to go over some things, and then one of the actor’s agents called about a contract dispute…It’s a poor excuse, I know. I just now got away, and…Please forgive me, mi amorcita.”

“I won’t be a bystander in your life, Javi,” you settle yourself on the end of the bed and part your legs so the fabric parts around them. “It hurt me, sitting there alone. I miss my fiance.”

Javi drops to his knees in front of you, his gorgeous face twisted in anguish. “Please, tell me how to make it up to you.”

Showing the slightest mercy, you reach for him and relish the way he leans into your touch. With the softest grip on his golden chocolate curls, you guide his cheek to rest on the inside of your bare thigh. “Beg.”

So close to what he wants, he’ll never take it without your permission, even as he eyes the wetness peeking out from under the slit in your skirt.

“I want to taste you, please. I want to drown in you and feel you cum on my tongue. Let me give you as many orgasms as you can take.”

“I don’t know if you deserve it,” you muse, pretending to be distracted by something on the bedspread. The truth is, you know you’ll cave as soon as you look him in those gorgeous brown eyes.

“Please, princesa, I know I fucked up,” his accent weighs heavy with his distress. Javi’s hand traces up and down the outside of your thigh, “Let me make it up to you.”

You look down at your fiance, and your heart breaks a little. He didn’t mean to forget dinner, and you know he feels awful. Besides, he’s been terribly stressed with his new project and it’s not like you two have spent much time together lately, not like you used to.

“Okay, Javi, I forgive you. Now make me cum,” you purr.

A giggle escapes when he hooks his arms around your knees, forcing you to land back on the bed with a light bounce.

“I am so fucking sorry, mi querida,” he growls, sucking and kissing up the skin of your inner thighs. “I swear on my life, on my father’s grave, it will never happen again.”

You want to remind him that maybe now isn’t the best time to bring up his dead father, but then he swipes his thumb against your clit and all that comes out is a high-pitched moan

“Fuck, Jav,” you reach down to bury your hands in his curls and feel him nip at your skin in response.

“Never leaving this bed again,” he licks the flat of his tongue up your slit and you buck your hips up, chasing the sensation. “Can’t leave you, can’t leave this.”

Javi is a man used to the finer things in life. It’s what happens when you grow up on a huge estate, surrounded by servants, never wanting for anything. But one thing has always sated him, left him content and pliant at the end of your fingertips, and he’ll drink at it for hours if you let him.

You’re still clothed, however the dress you’d specially chosen for the occasion is just garnish. He’d been meant to savor it all through dinner, feast his eyes before taking an indulgence of the flesh, but you were never one to deny your lover. Especially when his absolution feels so divine.

From the first time he took you to bed, Javi made it a point to learn you. He was certainly a skilled lover, but over time he’s grown incredibly attuned to every little sound, every little twitch and jerk as he works you over. And he’s certainly eager.

A steady-building pleasure grows in your belly as he licks from your entrance up to your clit, over and over. Each time you can feel the proud jut of his nose bumping against that little bundle of nerves as he dips lower.

Your first orgasm comes quickly, and your fingers grip hard at Javi’s hair. But he doesn’t stop. If anything it spurs him on further. The taste of your first release drives him on and you can’t help but cry out when he sucks on your clit.

-

You’re not sure how long it is, or how many times you’ve cum, but eventually you’re overstimulated to the point of pain. You push Javi’s head away from your core, making him whine.

“S’too much,” you pant, “Gotta give me a break.”

At the blown-out look in your eyes, he’s worried. “Did I do too much? I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No, Javi, you never hurt me. M’just sensitive is all.”

You reach for him and he obliges, laying down beside you on the bed. Now that he’s finally close, you pull him in for a deep kiss, whining when you taste yourself on his tongue. When you need air again, he just kisses and nips down your jaw, still putting his mouth to really good use.

“I’m so sorry, mi amorcita,” he murmurs into the tender skin he soothes with a kiss. “My mind has just been so-so…scrambled lately.”

“I know, Jav. I’ve been a little worried about you.”

At your confession, his face falls. You know he never wants you to worry about anything.

“You work too hard, Javi,” you continue, running your hand down his exposed chest. “Too much espresso, not enough sleep.”

Your love sighs deeply under your touch, a weight lifting at your words. “I will do better.”

“Let me relieve some of that stress?” your lip curls in a smirk as your hand slips lower and lower until you’re fiddling with the buckle of his belt. Just below, his zipper is struggling to contain an impressive erection, the thought of which already has you salivating.

Javi flushes, voice raspy all of a sudden. “I still have some making up to do, no?”

You shake your head as you slip from the bed beside him into nearly the same spot he was in moments ago. “This night was supposed to be about you, cariño. I’d like to get it back on schedule.”

He doesn’t breathe as you settle into position, a serpent preparing to strike. Your hands run up and down his clothed thighs, just to feel him tremble beneath you.

“Easy, baby,” you soothe. “Gonna let me get you all nice and relaxed?”

Looking up at him, you wonder how you got so lucky. His curls are disheveled, sticking every which way from your grip on them as he brought you to ecstasy after ecstasy. Sweat glistens across his golden skin, flushed from the summer heat and more. You want nothing more than to bite his bottom lip, the one that sticks out as he pants for breath, nodding eagerly as you finally cup his bulge with your hand.

“Words,” you click your tongue at him.

“Yes, please.”

With his consent, you take your time with his belt, removing it completely from the loops and setting it to the side. Then you’re undoing his pants, careful not to pinch or pull on the skin that pushes up against his waistband. As the button pops open, you lean forward and give the imprint it left behind a kiss, and Javi shudders above you. You’re just as methodical with the zipper, pulling it down tooth by tooth until it reaches its end.

When you look back at your fiance, his face is caught in a mixture of concentration and ecstasy, eyes pinched shut as his chest heaves with the struggle of staying still.

“Javi.”

Deep brown eyes find yours in a heartbeat, searching for answers, instructions, pleasure. Whatever you’re willing to give.

“I love you.”

Immediately he relaxes, the curve of his spine returning to normal as some of the energy pent up from his day releases, leaving only room for you and the pleasure that’s to come.

“I love you too, mi princesa.”

“Tell me you want me to suck your cock.”

A groan rattles somewhere in his chest and his knuckles go white as he grips the sheets. Javi is vocal about giving you pleasure, but tends to go mute when asked about his own. But you’re not doing anything else until he asks for it. You want him to get used to asking for what he needs. You won’t let him burn himself out like this anymore.

“I want-I want you…mierda. I want you to suck my cock. Please,” he rasps, little more than a whisper.

You grin up at him as your hand slips under the band of his boxer briefs to find the weeping head of his cock. “You’re so good for me Javi,” you praise as you run your thumb through the dribble of precum that’s gathered there. “Telling me what you want. I love that, thank you.”

He’s more than ready when you finally take him out, but you still take your time. The first sloppy kiss to his head and Javi is digging his fingers into the bed below, brow knit in concentration. You work your way down to his neatly trimmed base before coming back up the other side.

Javi’s fingers thread through your hair, not insistent, just an anchor to the present. He tugs lightly when you first swallow him down, curses dripping from his kiss-swollen lips. After all your time together, you know exactly what it takes to get him right to the edge. Your tongue works the underside of him as you lazily bob up and down.

Your eyes cut to his to find them glued on yours as you work him. “Fuck, Jesus, querida, stop or I’m going to-”

You pull off of him, but your hand still works up and down his shaft. “You’re going to cum for me Javi, just like this. Let this be your final penance.”

With that you go back to your task, taking him down your throat until your eyes water. Two of your fingers gather some of the spit and precum that’s dribbled down to his base and you use it to gently work against the tight ring of muscle just a few inches below.

Javi looks divine like this. The tendons in his neck bulge as he throws his head back in pleasure. He’s screwed his eyes shut and you wish you could be in two places at once so you could lick the bead of sweat away forming at his temple.

“Wanted to- wanted to, fuck- I wanted to fuck you like you deserve,” he pants through gritted teeth. “But this is…” He doesn’t finish, because that’s when your fingers press in to breach his ass, and a low groan rattles through his chest.

The taste of him hits as you curl your fingers against his prostate. His fingers scratch against your scalp as you swallow against him again and again until he’s a shaking, muttering mess above you.

You release his softening cock with a soft pop sound and grin up at your utterly wrecked, not-a-stressed-bone-left-in-his-body fiance. As he tries to catch his breath, you rise from your position on the floor and hope Javi can’t hear your knees pop as you slide onto the bed next to him.

Javi pulls you in for a kiss and tugs you up the bed so you can lay beside of him. He doesn’t pull away until you’re firmly tangled in his embrace.

“I love you, and I’m so sorry about dinner.”

You smooth a hand over his disheveled curls. “Javi, you’re forgiven. Just don’t forget that you have a life outside of work. I will do everything in my power to support you in whatever you choose to do, but I won’t watch you neglect yourself. I love you too much.”

“I hear you. And I will…I will try to do better.”

“That’s all I ask. Maybe one day this week you can let the cast and crew have a break and we can have a do-over for dinner?” you ask hopefully.

“Yes, I think maybe Tuesday, or Wednesday. We’re supposed to shoot with-”

“Details later, Jav,” you silence him with a peck to the lips. “You never answered my question earlier. Did you get a chance to eat?”

He winces a bit and gives you a look, “I had some crackers and hummus from food services.”

“Let’s call down for room service and then you should get some rest. I plan on letting you do some more making up before you head off to set tomorrow.”

[bellarosethefangirl]

Valentine's Masterlist 💓 Multifandoms Updated: 2/21/23

Jojo's Bizarre Adventure

Golden Wind Part 5

“To Mend Your Heart, Valentine” (Bully Haruno Shiobana x Female Reader)

Buccigang x Reader Valentine’s Headcanons Getting Them To Bake w/ You In Nothing But An Apron 🔞NSFW

Bucci gang Baking Their S/o A Valentines Surprise

Get A Valentine’s Date: Team Bucciarati Edition! Quotev Quiz Results 💝 (Bucci gang x Reader)

Get A Valentines Date: Team Bucciarati Edition! (Quotev Quiz for your Ideal Valentines date and get a date with one of the members)

Bucci gang Receiving Cold Stone Icecream Cake From You For Valentine’s (+Trish Una) 🍰❤️

La Squadra Baking Their S/o A Valentines Surprise Headcanons (nsfw themes)

Romance 🌹

“Kissing Booth”💋 (Narancia Ghirga x Reader) NSFW 🔞

“Unexpected Late Dinner” (Fugo Pannacotta x Fiancé Female Reader) NSFW 🔞

Risotto Nero w/ an Affectionate Significant Other Headcanons

Narancia x Self-Sacrificing Reader Headcanons

Fugo Pannacotta x Reader Various Date Headcanons

La Squadra Eating Dessert w/ Their S/o Date Headcanons

Kingdom Hearts

Valentine's Quotev Quizzes

Go On A Valentine’s Date And Get A Kingdom Hearts Character (Results Include Sora, Kairi, Riku, Ventus, Aqua, and Terra)

Get A Kingdom Hearts Valentine’s Date (Results Include Kairi, Riku, Sora, Aqua, Roxas, Xion, Axel, and Zexion)

Go On A Lunch Date With Sora And See What He Thinks (Sora x Reader)

Yu-gi-oh!

"Valentines Surprise" Atem x Chubby Reader

Romance 🌹

How He Reacts To You Sleeping On His Shoulder Headcanons (Yami x Reader)

"Love You Inside And Out" (Over Weight Yugi Muto x Female Reader) NSFW 🔞

If you'd love more Valentines yugioh content I have a whole book on quotev dedicated to fics titled, Valentine's Yugioh x Reader Oneshots

[haisayonaraa]

I thought of another idea/headcanon lol

Diavolo crawls through a play tunnel and out comes baby Doppio crawling to whoever is his cg! Maybe Risotto lol

Doppio is nonverbal when regressed, so he communicates via body language, gestures like pointing or waving, a dry erase board to write what he wants to say, or AAC lol

Doppio always carries his Keroppi plushie everywhere he goes

hereeeeee u goo! I really like dis idea, and Doppio, so it was really nice to write! I hope it turned out alright!

[the-illiterate-pirate]

oneshot idea: merman Risotto being held captive in an aquarium and meeting someone who wants to set him free back to the ocean

Okay, love this idea. As you may already know I don't have requests open, but I'm seriously thinking about writing something for this, it's so cute!

Let me leave you an idea of what kind of mer I see Risotto being. It's hard to not chose another shark species, but I think the banded sea krait will do just fine for him!

[spacexseven]

as much as i love you drabbles and concept, tour oneshots i think are yoùr best work yet. i reae through your ao3 ones (even the ones on your alt acc) because i wanted more and even though i dont know the fandoms you wrote for, i thoroughly enjoyed it. i find that your mistamista works are more devloped than your older things and the progress is awesome! it's a shame you don't have a lot available.

i think so too. i can explore more ideas in drabbles but i genuinely love writing longer things and developing my style. the thing with my mistamista works is that they're all purely passion projects. none of that was requested (just like my childe writing) so i took much longer to write those but i ended up liking it so much more. also because i adore rohan and risotto so so much :( i am working on something for that account but it's not my priority since it's something of my own interest ^^

unfortunately due to my schedule i've come to the point where i need to choose between slower updated and long writing or regular updates w drabbles and asks. i prefer the latter because there's no disappointment involved. i'm very harsh? about my writing in oneshots so it takes forever and is mostly scrapped.

[industriallyinsecure]

I'm lowkey curious, who's your favorite person to write for in HN or even in just one shots? Most authors tend to have a favorite and hearing them talk about them is always so funny. Also 100% a HN reader stan,, we love bitches in strange scenarios trying their best‼️‼️

*cracks knuckles* Without a doubt, Prosciutto. Risotto is a close second, but Prosciutto has always been my all time fav and I feel like I have a different take on him than other authors do. I do romanticize him a bit because I’m a little bitch and don’t like it when people are mean to me though lmao

More under the cut because I have a lot to say

In HN, he and Ghiaccio are my favorite to write because their characters contrast a lot. Ghiaccio feels very passionate about things in general, but when it comes to things like romance or having a crush, he doesn’t know how to act and HATES that he can’t control himself (which is what contributes toward his yandere behavior). Prosciutto on the other hand is very cognizant of what he is doing and how it affects the reader, but he just doesn’t care. When I read other people’s work, I feel like the caring aspect of him is often missed (which is understandable because he’s quite literally in the mafia) in favor of the misogynistic machismo he displays to Pesci. In HN, I try to show that he does ‘care’ a little bit, but in his own tough love way.

For oneshots, it’s Prosciutto as well *loud booing* he’s my babygirl!!!!!!!!!! I hc him as coming from a farming family outside of Firenze, but he grew up with his grandparents because his parents weren’t the best. He’s absolutely a Nonna’s boy. I also hc that he started modeling in his teens and subsequently started getting caught up in the lifestyle and got hooked on cocaine, putting him in debt with Passione. He’s so babygirl I love him so much. We are actually married irl *more booing*

I like to write for pretty much everyone except Illuso. It’s not because I don’t like him or anything, I just have a hard time pinning his personality down and I feel like I don’t do him justice when I write him.

[falsewordz]

Requests Open!

For Haikyuu, JJK, JOJO, MP100

Rules!!

I accept headcanons/drabbles/oneshots requests.

If the gender isn't mentioned I will just assume gender neutral.

There's also a limit for amount of characters I can write for one setting. - 5 characters max for hcs - 2 characters max for drabbles and oneshots

Things I won't write: - emotional and physical abuse between characters and reader - romantic scenarios for characters below 15 years of age - and another thing that is a bit too niche and I doubt anyone will ask for it and I'm also too disgusted to say it... okay maybe I should hint it just in case... it has to do with excreting waste.

Now, be prepared for a very specific list of character for which I am willing to write about. Please read it 😭.

Haikyuu:

Everyone in Karasuno (including Takeda and Ukai Keishin) except for Tanaka and Kiyoko.

Nekoma: Kenma, Kuroo, Lev, Inuoka

Shiratori: Ushijima, Tendou

Inarizaki: Kita, Miya twins

Maybe also Akaashi and Bokuto? But I ship them too hard to be really writing any xreader about them.

JJK:

Non-studens: Gojo, Shoko, Nanami, Utahime, Toji

Students: Yuuji, Nobara, Toge, Maki, Miwa

I will not write anything about curses (Okay maybe I'll accept Hanami).

Also just be warned that I stopped around ch.175, anything later I would have no fucking idea of what happened, except for the recent stuff Akutami drew and I refuse to acknowledge the recent plot regarding to Gojo

JOJO:

Part 1: Jonathan

2: Joseph, Caesar

3: Polnareff, Kakyoin, Jotaro(but only sometimes, really depends)

4: Josuke, Kira, Mikitaka, Yukako

5: Main crew, Diavolo, Doppio, Risotto Nero, Prosciutto,

6: Jolyne, Ermes, Weather Report

7: Johnny, Gyro, Hot Pants

Annnd ----

Reigen Arataka

(yeah sorry Reigen you're alone here in the MP100 section)

[mister13eyond]

10, 18

10.) Favorite line or lines of dialogue that you’ve written?

oh god this is HARD... I think dialogue is the thing i like writing MOST, and character voice is my favorite part, so it's hard to choose a favorite, but hm....

I like this exchange and the callback to it in Hell Is the Talking Type:

“Still…. It’s a damn shame. That suit actually looked good on you.” “You think?” Risotto straightened up. Was he… flushed? “Better than the clown shit.” “It’s not- I’m dressed as an executioner. ” “In a bondage harness and a fucking jester hat!

and

“Big talk from 200cm of goth clown-” “ Executioner.” But Risotto said it softly, so the bartender wouldn’t overhear. 

ALSO, this incredibly Utena and Hannibal inspired exchange from April 6th:

“I don’t know. Maybe that you’ll try to kill me. You could have poisoned this.” “I’m eating it too,” Diavolo points out.  Giorno lifts an eyebrow challengingly. “As though it being poisoned would discourage you in the slightest?” …. He has a point there. Diavolo smirks and lifts his fork in a toast, an acknowledgement of that truth. Still, the both of them take another bite. 

along with this bit from the same conversation: (also Incredibly Hannibal):

“It’s a terrible thing, being seen. Isn’t it?” Giorno swallows another bite, blackened crust and all, and washes it down with a grimace and a sip of wine. “It is,” he laughs. “Absolutely horrible. I feel sliced open and rummaged through.” “And yet.” Diavolo shrugs. “You see me, whether or not I like it.”

I really like writing that kind of coy back and forth exchange (yes, Hannibal sure did change me forever)

18.) If you could go back and revise one of your older stories, which would it be?

Oh gosh, I dunno. I kinda don't look back at any of the Older Older works on purpose (for my own sanity); I think if anything I'd probably approach some of my old works Completely differently now as a person?

Like, I have this one OLD MelloxMatt deathnote smut oneshot that is (embarassingly) noted as "happy, healthy kink" in the summary, and now I'm like. "Past Byron was weak. Let me at it again, I will make up dynamics SO complex and fucked up". I may still be kind of the schmoopiest, fluffiest bitch on the planet, but I do love some primo weird complicated not entirely healthy but they also would be even worse with anyone else" dynamics and I wish I'd learned that as a baby smut writer LMAOOO

[beneathashadytree]

RISOTTO NERO MASTERLIST

fluff: normal, angst: italics, smut: bold

Cruelty (oneshot)

Unconditionally (hcs)

Unmasked (hcs)

[icerisotto]

ᐢ..ᐢ ﹒✦﹒ about ⟢ me !

☆ i am kero, 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!

[dgaftilwedie]

procrastinating on my la squadra afterlife fic to answers these (it should be up later tonight or tmrw depending on if my brain stops having writer's block)

"It was a tight, almost suffocating hug, and it showed every piece of despair and grief that Risotto had to swallow down in the past week."

risotto's.................. i like diving deep into his fucked up little brain and trying to figure out what he WOULD be feeling if he showed it

guhhhh i mean . it's gettting doen....... im feeling very not good about it and i think that's because i have like an audience of people who really want this specific fic and i dont wanna disappoint them LMFAO

i have a creepypasta oc but i haven;t actually written them. a creepypasta. whoops

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” He whispers into your ear. (this is ghiaccio smut) (teehee) (it'll be up on my ao3 soon)

it's literally just risotto's name LMFAOAOAO

when im drafting, i usually just leave it in arial but sometimes i'll spice things up with the loml comic sans

most of my fics are oneshots so i feel like they don't really need a second part

uhmmmmm i think it took me like half an hour?? isn't wasn't really a fic, it was headcanons, but i wrote a lot

THERE IS A FIC IN MY DRAFTS THAT I STOPPED WRITING IN DECEMBER OF LAST YEAR AND I DON;T THINK IM EVER GOING TO FINISH IT EVER

i wanna finish my actual novel LMFAO she's not doing to hot rn

rivals to disgustingly sloppy hate sex to friends with benefits that are secretly in love but bully each other in front of everyone who knows them

i wanna get back into writing for danganronpa :(

99% of the time it just pops into my head when im doing something unrelated and i start tweakin mcgeekin over it

i really like writing when it's like. sorta cloudy but cloudy enough with the sun and it's nice and cool like. typical autumn whether, fall really gets me in the mood to write

my chair in the corner of my bedroom :3

i write a whole bunch of bullshit and when it starts to sound funky, i read it out loud to myself from start to finish and i correct any grammar/spelling issues or anything that sounds funky. i do that a whole bunch until im done and then i give it a quick once over with the google docs spelling/grammar corrector thing (which is actual ass btw but it catches most of the shit that i miss)

i don't keep them LMFAO

i did like three hours of research on lsd once for a crackfic

i've been publishing fanfiction since like 2017 i think

uhmmmm august 8 so like 5 days ago??

sometimes. that's kinda what im going thru rn LMFAO i just keep telling myself that nothing anyone posts online is ever going to be perfect. i just cross my fingers and hope that my writing sounds better than what i think it does.

too detail oriented

i just. kinda. give up for a little bit. let my brain stew. i'll read other people's fanfictions and usually that gives me the motivation i need to finish mine

i make music n blog but i don't really do much :P trying to get more into drawing

sometimes but i usually have to have my earbuds i if there are people around me. and i can't write if they're watching me

either descriptions or dialogue. i LOVE descriptions

the inability to write. the brain farting. the writer's block. god kill me

it's like a 50/50 shot, most of the time it's just a song lyric that i think fits whatever im writing but most of my fics don't even have titles

most of the fics i'm super proud of are one's that i've written for myself LMFAO i should post some of them but they're so embarrassingly self-indulgent

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[l-g-6-5]

Liberation AU

Passione is the main political force in Italy as of 2024. Compared to the corrupt government of before, the criminal-organization-turned-political-party quickly proved itself better. While the streets are safer now, a great, new threat is rising.

A birthday party goes wrong when a rogue Stand appears, kidnapping many people and the son of the prime minister. Doppie Vinegar and her advisors, Leona Abbacchio and Bruna Bucciarati, have to work together to find the secret of the Stand, the Prism Rock, and the Starlight Organization.

A beautiful, new morning is coming.

Characters

Doppie Vinegar-Una | Trist Vinegar-Una | Bruna Bucciarati | Leona Abbacchio

Narancia Ghirga | Margarita Formaggio | Prosciutto Geppano | Pesci Geppano | Illuise Fleto

Polpo

Risotto Nero | Secco Rottario | Dolce Cioccolata | Sorbet | Gelato

Rosemary Candelabra | Carne | Marjoram Confetto | Hakuno Shiobana | Tiziano | Squalo

Elsa Ghiaccio | Ludovica Melone | Guida Mista | Pannacotta Fugo | Kenith Dole

Golden Hour Remix

Lore

Changes in Stands | The Prism Rock and Rainbow Stones | What a beautiful, new morning. | 17

Shitposts and Doodles

The reason Doppie has a leg up on all other Doppios | Bruna hates herself more than she lets on | Carne and Marjoram interacting | Doppie tries to study Italian politics | The Proposal | La Creatura | Games on your phone | Mother still embarrasses you | She reincarnated into a dog

Main Fic

Coming soon!

Ficlets and Oneshots (of various levels of canon compliance)

Time Off | Phone Call

[jojosbizarrewriter]

Have this filthy work that I made at six in the morning because sleep is for the weak and I’m also v weak for Risotto okay???? So here is a little bit of lovin from this big tiddie boy ;3

Risotto x Reader (n/s/f/w)

tags: cunnilingus, belly bulge, thigh-fucking, 18+ content, f!reader

words: 2600 (Not proofread!)

(N/S/F/W CONTENT BELOW THE CUT!!!!)

The‌ ‌way‌ ‌that‌ ‌the‌ ‌straps‌ ‌of‌ ‌his‌ ‌outfit‌ ‌sit‌ ‌snug‌ ‌against‌ ‌his‌ ‌chest‌ ‌makes‌ ‌your‌ ‌thighs‌ ‌squeeze‌ ‌together‌ ‌with‌ ‌just‌ ‌the‌ ‌thought.‌ ‌Would‌ ‌there‌ ‌ever‌ ‌be‌ ‌a‌ ‌day‌ ‌when‌ ‌you‌ ‌can‌ ‌let‌ ‌your‌ ‌hands‌ ‌touch‌ ‌and‌ ‌roam‌ ‌over‌ ‌his‌ ‌body,‌ ‌tracing‌ ‌every‌ ‌scar‌ ‌and‌ ‌kissing‌ ‌every‌ ‌inch‌ ‌of‌ ‌his‌ ‌strong‌ ‌jaw‌ ‌while‌ ‌he‌ ‌takes‌ ‌your‌ ‌innocence?‌ ‌Your‌ ‌devious‌ ‌little‌ ‌mind‌ ‌pondered‌ ‌and‌ ‌toyed‌ ‌with‌ ‌the‌ ‌idea‌ ‌of‌ ‌your‌ ‌capo‌ ‌pounding‌ ‌you‌ ‌mercilessly‌ ‌into‌ ‌any‌ ‌surface‌ ‌you‌ ‌two‌ ‌could‌ ‌find,‌ ‌the‌ ‌thought‌ ‌of‌ ‌being‌ ‌caught‌ ‌by‌ ‌any‌ ‌of‌ ‌your‌ ‌teammates‌ ‌enticing‌ ‌you‌ ‌further‌ ‌into‌ ‌this‌ ‌daydream‌ ‌scenario.‌ ‌It‌ ‌wasn’t‌ ‌hard‌ ‌to‌ ‌think‌ ‌of‌ ‌a‌ ‌special‌ ‌someone‌ ‌that‌ ‌may‌ ‌just‌ ‌find‌ ‌the‌ ‌act‌ ‌very‌ ‌erotic‌ ‌though‌ ‌that‌ ‌didn’t‌ ‌stop‌ ‌the‌ ‌mental‌ ‌train‌ ‌from‌ ‌stopping.‌ ‌ ‌ ‌

That‌ ‌was‌ ‌until‌ ‌you‌ ‌heard‌ ‌an‌ ‌all‌ ‌too‌ ‌familiar‌ ‌voice‌ ‌yelling‌ ‌out‌ ‌from‌ ‌the‌ ‌kitchen‌ ‌“OI!!‌ ‌Hurry‌ ‌the‌ ‌fuck‌ ‌up!‌ ‌If‌ ‌it‌ ‌weren’t‌ ‌for‌ ‌Formaggio‌ ‌sleeping‌ ‌in,‌ ‌then‌ ‌we‌ ‌may‌ ‌have‌ ‌had‌ ‌this‌ ‌mission‌ ‌over‌ ‌by‌ ‌now!”‌ ‌Ghiaccio‌ ‌seethed‌ ‌through‌ ‌gritted‌ ‌teeth,‌ ‌his‌ ‌brow‌ ‌twitching‌ ‌as‌ ‌everyone‌ ‌but‌ ‌Risotto‌ ‌had‌ ‌been‌ ‌coming‌ ‌through‌ ‌the‌ ‌entryway‌ ‌and‌ ‌towards‌ ‌the‌ ‌door.‌ ‌

 Melone‌ ‌had‌ ‌seen‌ ‌you‌ ‌sitting‌ ‌on‌ ‌the‌ ‌couch‌ ‌and‌ ‌he‌ ‌approached‌ ‌you‌ ‌nonchalantly,‌ ‌crouching‌ ‌down‌ ‌while‌ ‌flashing‌ ‌you‌ ‌a‌ ‌smirk,‌ ‌inevitably‌ ‌catching‌ ‌your‌ ‌full‌ ‌attention‌ ‌when‌ ‌he‌ ‌cleared‌ ‌his‌ ‌throat‌ ‌“You‌ ‌know,‌ ‌bella,‌ ‌daydreaming‌ ‌those‌ ‌lustful‌ ‌little‌ ‌thoughts‌ ‌of‌ ‌yours‌ ‌out‌ ‌in‌ ‌the‌ ‌open‌ ‌is‌ ‌quite‌ ‌the‌ ‌sight-”‌ ‌he‌ ‌expressed,‌ ‌sighing‌ ‌deeply‌ ‌but‌ ‌a‌ ‌little‌ ‌soft‌ ‌moan‌ ‌rolls‌ ‌right‌ ‌past‌ ‌his‌ ‌lips‌ ‌quietly‌ ‌“-but‌ ‌you‌ ‌aren’t‌ ‌mine‌ ‌to‌ ‌play‌ ‌with.”‌ ‌He‌ ‌whines,‌ ‌his‌ ‌bottom‌ ‌lip‌ ‌sticking‌ ‌out‌ ‌in‌ ‌a‌ ‌pout.‌ ‌ ‌

“Wait,‌ ‌is‌ ‌it‌ ‌really‌ ‌that‌ ‌noticeable?”‌ ‌you‌ ‌question‌ ‌all‌ ‌too‌ ‌quickly,‌ ‌your‌ ‌face‌ ‌in‌ ‌return‌ ‌had‌ ‌heated‌ ‌up‌ ‌with‌ ‌embarrassment‌ ‌and‌ ‌Melone’s‌ ‌not‌ ‌so‌ ‌subtle‌ ‌chuckle‌ ‌didn’t‌ ‌help‌ ‌“No,‌ ‌”‌ ‌he‌ ‌says‌ ‌with‌ ‌his‌ ‌tongue‌ ‌sticking‌ ‌out‌ ‌past‌ ‌his‌ ‌mouth,‌ ‌licking‌ ‌his‌ ‌lips‌ ‌gently‌ ‌to‌ ‌elicit‌ ‌some‌ ‌sort‌ ‌response‌ ‌from‌ ‌you‌ ‌”But‌ ‌I‌ ‌now‌ ‌know‌ ‌that‌ ‌my‌ ‌suspicions‌ ‌are‌ ‌true,‌ ‌however.”‌ ‌his‌ ‌smile‌ ‌only‌ ‌grew‌ ‌when‌ ‌your‌ ‌frustrations‌ ‌built‌ ‌up‌ ‌in‌ ‌your‌ ‌throat,‌ ‌cheeks‌ ‌stained‌ ‌a‌ ‌wine‌ ‌red.‌ ‌ ‌

“You’re‌ ‌a‌ ‌pretentious‌ ‌pervert,‌ ‌Melone!”‌ ‌You‌ ‌hissed‌ ‌at‌ ‌him,‌ ‌though‌ ‌he‌ ‌only‌ ‌stands‌ ‌when‌ ‌everyone‌ ‌has‌ ‌left‌ ‌to‌ ‌go‌ ‌outside,‌ ‌giving‌ ‌you‌ ‌both‌ ‌a‌ ‌moment‌ ‌of‌ ‌privacy‌ ‌and‌ ‌something‌ ‌about‌ ‌this‌ ‌new‌ ‌atmosphere‌ ‌sends‌ ‌the‌ ‌hairs‌ ‌on‌ ‌the‌ ‌back‌ ‌of‌ ‌your‌ ‌neck‌ ‌straight‌ ‌up‌ ‌when‌ ‌he‌ ‌leans‌ ‌over‌ ‌to‌ ‌whisper‌ ‌into‌ ‌the‌ ‌shell‌ ‌of‌ ‌your‌ ‌ear.‌ ‌ ‌

“The‌ ‌capo‌ ‌would‌ ‌like‌ ‌to‌ ‌see‌ ‌you‌ ‌now.”‌ ‌ ‌

Thus,‌ ‌you‌ ‌had‌ ‌been‌ ‌left‌ ‌behind‌ ‌with‌ ‌that‌ ‌little‌ ‌bit‌ ‌of‌ ‌knowledge‌ ‌and‌ ‌if‌ ‌you‌ ‌remember‌ ‌correctly,‌ ‌you‌ ‌had‌ ‌seen‌ ‌everyone‌ ‌but‌ ‌your‌ ‌cap‌ ‌leave‌ ‌just‌ ‌moments‌ ‌ago,‌ ‌right?‌ ‌As‌ ‌you‌ ‌had‌ ‌gotten‌ ‌up‌ ‌from‌ ‌your‌ ‌seat‌ ‌and‌ ‌made‌ ‌your‌ ‌way‌ ‌to‌ ‌what‌ ‌everyone‌ ‌in‌ ‌the‌ ‌house‌ ‌knew‌ ‌as‌ ‌Risotto’s‌ ‌‘office’,‌ ‌the‌ ‌silence‌ ‌made‌ ‌it‌ ‌feel‌ ‌like‌ ‌forever‌ ‌until‌ ‌you‌ ‌reached‌ ‌the‌ ‌mahogany‌ ‌door‌ ‌that‌ ‌was‌ ‌the‌ ‌last‌ ‌piece‌ ‌shielding‌ ‌you‌ ‌from‌ ‌what‌ ‌was‌ ‌to‌ ‌come.‌ ‌Every‌ ‌nerve‌ ‌in‌ ‌your‌ ‌body‌ ‌had‌ ‌to‌ ‌be‌ ‌worked‌ ‌up‌ ‌to‌ ‌this‌ ‌moment,‌ ‌your‌ ‌fingers‌ ‌wrapped‌ ‌close‌ ‌as‌ ‌you‌ ‌knock‌ ‌on‌ ‌the‌ ‌door’s‌ ‌surface,‌ ‌the‌ ‌echoed‌ ‌sound‌ ‌bouncing‌ ‌off‌ ‌the‌ ‌walls‌ ‌all‌ ‌around‌ ‌you.‌ ‌ ‌

“Come‌ ‌in.”‌ ‌spoke‌ ‌a‌ ‌deep‌ ‌tone,‌ ‌your‌ ‌chest‌ ‌tightened‌ ‌up‌ ‌and‌ ‌you‌ ‌could’ve‌ ‌swore‌ ‌your‌ ‌heart‌ ‌stopped‌ ‌beating‌ ‌for‌ ‌a‌ ‌split‌ ‌second‌ ‌which‌ ‌warranted‌ ‌you‌ ‌to‌ ‌push‌ ‌through‌ ‌the‌ ‌door.‌ ‌ ‌

 ‌Soon‌ ‌you‌ ‌understood‌ ‌where‌ ‌all‌ ‌that‌ ‌tension‌ ‌had‌ ‌been‌ ‌coming‌ ‌from‌ ‌when‌ ‌your‌ ‌eyes‌ ‌caught‌ ‌his,‌ ‌the‌ ‌lump‌ ‌that‌ ‌was‌ ‌stuck‌ ‌in‌ ‌your‌ ‌throat‌ ‌had‌ ‌soon‌ ‌been‌ ‌swallowed‌ ‌when‌ ‌you‌ ‌moved‌ ‌forward,‌ ‌closing‌ ‌the‌ ‌door‌ ‌behind‌ ‌you.‌ ‌ ‌

“You‌ ‌wanted‌ ‌to‌ ‌see‌ ‌me,‌ ‌Ris-”‌ ‌your‌ ‌words‌ ‌ceased‌ ‌when‌ ‌you‌ ‌noted‌ ‌his‌ ‌brow‌ ‌knitting‌ ‌together,‌ ‌his‌ ‌large‌ ‌form‌ ‌was‌ ‌leaning‌ ‌over‌ ‌the‌ ‌desk‌ ‌his‌ ‌arms‌ ‌folded‌ ‌atop‌ ‌it‌ ‌like‌ ‌a‌ ‌predator‌ ‌watching‌ ‌its‌ ‌prey‌ ‌and‌ ‌you‌ ‌had‌ ‌to‌ ‌play‌ ‌your‌ ‌cards‌ ‌right‌ ‌“-Capo?”‌ ‌you‌ ‌corrected,‌ ‌earning‌ ‌a‌ ‌gentle‌ ‌hum‌ ‌from‌ ‌your‌ ‌leader‌ ‌who‌ ‌had‌ ‌now‌ ‌sat‌ ‌back‌ ‌in‌ ‌his‌ ‌seat.‌ ‌ ‌

“Yes,”‌ ‌he‌ ‌states‌ ‌quite‌ ‌simply,‌ ‌his‌ ‌right‌ ‌index‌ ‌finger‌ ‌points‌ ‌to‌ ‌you‌ ‌before‌ ‌said‌ ‌hand‌ ‌turns‌ ‌over,‌ ‌his‌ ‌thick‌ ‌digit‌ ‌curling‌ ‌in‌ ‌a‌ ‌motion‌ ‌that‌ ‌said‌ ‌‘come‌ ‌here’.‌ ‌You‌ ‌obey‌ ‌the‌ ‌wordless‌ ‌command‌ ‌like‌ ‌a‌ ‌puppy‌ ‌running‌ ‌to‌ ‌its‌ ‌owner‌ ‌though‌ ‌when‌ ‌you’re‌ ‌met‌ ‌with‌ ‌his‌ ‌desk,‌ ‌he‌ ‌lets‌ ‌his‌ ‌hand‌ ‌open‌ ‌all‌ ‌the‌ ‌way‌ ‌while‌ ‌stretching‌ ‌his‌ ‌arm‌ ‌out‌ ‌to‌ ‌you.‌ ‌With‌ ‌every‌ ‌bit‌ ‌of‌ ‌your‌ ‌body‌ ‌working‌ ‌for‌ ‌you‌ ‌without‌ ‌thinking,‌ ‌you‌ ‌keep‌ ‌your‌ ‌gaze‌ ‌locked‌ ‌with‌ ‌his‌ ‌as‌ ‌he‌ ‌guides‌ ‌you‌ ‌around‌ ‌the‌ ‌rest‌ ‌of‌ ‌the‌ ‌table‌ ‌his‌ ‌chair‌ ‌turning‌ ‌as‌ ‌you‌ ‌go.‌ ‌ ‌ ‌

Once‌ ‌at‌ ‌his‌ ‌side,‌ ‌Risotto‌ ‌turns‌ ‌in‌ ‌the‌ ‌chair‌ ‌so‌ ‌that‌ ‌he’s‌ ‌completely‌ ‌facing‌ ‌you,‌ ‌his‌ ‌hips‌ ‌slid‌ ‌down‌ ‌the‌ ‌seat‌ ‌to‌ ‌accompany‌ ‌his‌ ‌long‌ ‌legs‌ ‌and‌ ‌he‌ ‌spread‌ ‌them‌ ‌oh‌ ‌so‌ ‌slowly.‌ ‌He‌ ‌knew‌ ‌exactly‌ ‌what‌ ‌he‌ ‌was‌ ‌doing‌ ‌when‌ ‌he‌ ‌made‌ ‌this‌ ‌display‌ ‌and‌ ‌when‌ ‌your‌ ‌eyes‌ ‌suddenly‌ ‌adverted‌ ‌themselves,‌ ‌a‌ ‌soft‌ ‌chuckle‌ ‌fills‌ ‌your‌ ‌ears.‌ ‌ ‌

“I‌ ‌know‌ ‌exactly‌ ‌what‌ ‌you‌ ‌want,‌ ‌tesoro.‌ ‌Yet‌ ‌you’re‌ ‌so‌ ‌innocent‌ ‌and‌ ‌naive.”‌ ‌he‌ ‌lets‌ ‌his‌ ‌head‌ ‌tilt‌ ‌to‌ ‌the‌ ‌side,‌ ‌your‌ ‌hand‌ ‌was‌ ‌released‌ ‌and‌ ‌you‌ ‌almost‌ ‌wanted‌ ‌to‌ ‌tell‌ ‌him‌ ‌to‌ ‌wait‌ ‌but‌ ‌nothing‌ ‌could‌ ‌formulate‌ ‌in‌ ‌your‌ ‌mind.‌ ‌Risotto‌ ‌made‌ ‌you‌ ‌feel‌ ‌lost‌ ‌in‌ ‌the‌ ‌moment‌ ‌every‌ ‌time‌ ‌you‌ ‌were‌ ‌alone‌ ‌around‌ ‌him,‌ ‌yet‌ ‌he‌ ‌never‌ ‌directly‌ ‌approached‌ ‌you‌ ‌until‌ ‌now.‌ ‌“I‌ ‌want‌ ‌to‌ ‌give‌ ‌you‌ ‌exactly‌ ‌that.”‌ ‌ ‌

It‌ ‌didn’t‌ ‌take‌ ‌but‌ ‌a‌ ‌single‌ ‌look‌ ‌back‌ ‌into‌ ‌his‌ ‌red‌ ‌irises‌ ‌that‌ ‌you‌ ‌felt‌ ‌your‌ ‌body‌ ‌succumb‌ ‌to‌ ‌the‌ ‌dominating‌ ‌aura‌ ‌he‌ ‌had‌ ‌been‌ ‌putting‌ ‌off.‌ ‌You‌ ‌wanted‌ ‌to‌ ‌drag‌ ‌this‌ ‌out‌ ‌for‌ ‌as‌ ‌long‌ ‌as‌ ‌you‌ ‌could,‌ ‌to‌ ‌play‌ ‌dumb‌ ‌and‌ ‌see‌ ‌if‌ ‌this‌ ‌is‌ ‌truly‌ ‌happening,‌ ‌but‌ ‌you‌ ‌knew‌ ‌your‌ ‌capo‌ ‌was‌ ‌smarter‌ ‌than‌ ‌that.‌ ‌Was‌ ‌he‌ ‌messing‌ ‌with‌ ‌you‌ ‌like‌ ‌Melone‌ ‌had‌ ‌been?‌ ‌Regardless,‌ ‌you‌ ‌couldn’t‌ ‌deny‌ ‌that‌ ‌you‌ ‌had‌ ‌obvious‌ ‌tastes‌ ‌in‌ ‌Risotto‌ ‌and‌ ‌even‌ ‌the‌ ‌team‌ ‌had‌ ‌often‌ ‌teased‌ ‌you‌ ‌for‌ ‌it,‌ ‌so‌ ‌if‌ ‌anything,‌ ‌this‌ ‌is‌ ‌a‌ ‌dream‌ ‌come‌ ‌true.‌ ‌

You..you‌ ‌aren’t‌ ‌playing‌ ‌with‌ ‌me,‌ ‌are‌ ‌you?”‌ ‌You‌ ‌question‌ ‌him,‌ ‌which‌ ‌isn’t‌ ‌normally‌ ‌something‌ ‌you‌ ‌would‌ ‌ever‌ ‌think‌ ‌of‌ ‌doing,‌ ‌but‌ ‌those‌ ‌were‌ ‌the‌ ‌chosen‌ ‌words‌ ‌that‌ ‌forced‌ ‌their‌ ‌way‌ ‌out‌ ‌and‌ ‌internally‌ ‌you‌ ‌winced.‌ ‌ ‌

“Mia‌ ‌bella,”‌ ‌he‌ ‌began,‌ ‌his‌ ‌voice‌ ‌rolling‌ ‌out‌ ‌in‌ ‌a‌ ‌purr‌ ‌as‌ ‌he‌ ‌shifts‌ ‌to‌ ‌stand‌ ‌up,‌ ‌instantly‌ ‌his‌ ‌height‌ ‌towers‌ ‌yours‌ ‌and‌ ‌your‌ ‌gaze‌ ‌is‌ ‌now‌ ‌forced‌ ‌to‌ ‌look‌ ‌up‌ ‌at‌ ‌him‌ ‌“The‌ ‌only‌ ‌thing‌ ‌I‌ ‌will‌ ‌be‌ ‌playing‌ ‌with‌ ‌is‌ ‌your‌ ‌clit‌ ‌with‌ ‌my‌ ‌tongue‌ ‌if‌ ‌you‌ ‌allow‌ ‌me,‌ ‌hm?”‌ ‌he‌ ‌whispers‌ ‌out‌ ‌while‌ ‌lifting‌ ‌you‌ ‌to‌ ‌sit‌ ‌on‌ ‌the‌ ‌desk.‌ ‌ ‌

You‌ ‌felt‌ ‌yourself‌ ‌fall‌ ‌back‌ ‌a‌ ‌little‌ ‌so‌ ‌that‌ ‌you‌ ‌were‌ ‌resting‌ ‌on‌ ‌your‌ ‌elbows,‌ ‌your‌ ‌cherry‌ ‌red‌ ‌cheeks‌ ‌were‌ ‌so‌ ‌heated‌ ‌that‌ ‌not‌ ‌even‌ ‌White‌ ‌Album‌ ‌could‌ ‌cool‌ ‌you‌ ‌down.‌ ‌With‌ ‌Risotto‌ ‌now‌ ‌pressing‌ ‌your‌ ‌legs‌ ‌apart,‌ ‌his‌ ‌hands‌ ‌move‌ ‌so‌ ‌that‌ ‌is‌ ‌thumbs‌ ‌rub‌ ‌small‌ ‌circles‌ ‌to‌ ‌your‌ ‌inner‌ ‌thigh‌ ‌and‌ ‌there‌ ‌was‌ ‌no‌ ‌resisting‌ ‌a‌ ‌shaky‌ ‌inhale‌ ‌of‌ ‌air.‌ ‌The‌ ‌sight‌ ‌alone‌ ‌of‌ ‌your‌ ‌very‌ ‌leader‌ ‌between‌ ‌your‌ ‌legs‌ ‌made‌ ‌you‌ ‌weak‌ ‌and‌ ‌when‌ ‌he‌ ‌pressed‌ ‌his‌ ‌clothed‌ ‌erection‌ ‌against‌ ‌your‌ ‌aching‌ ‌core‌ ‌you‌ ‌gave‌ ‌in‌ ‌to‌ ‌the‌ ‌temptation‌ ‌he‌ ‌was‌ ‌offering,‌ ‌the‌ ‌moan‌ ‌he‌ ‌received‌ ‌made‌ ‌his‌ ‌mouth‌ ‌part‌ ‌as‌ ‌he‌ ‌soaked‌ ‌in‌ ‌your‌ ‌purity,‌ ‌his‌ ‌head‌ ‌rolled‌ ‌back‌ ‌until‌ ‌he‌ ‌couldn’t‌ ‌take‌ ‌it‌ ‌anymore.‌ ‌ ‌

“What‌ ‌is‌ ‌your‌ ‌answer,‌ ‌(y/n)?”‌ ‌he‌ ‌urges‌ ‌you‌ ‌to‌ ‌respond‌ ‌when‌ ‌he‌ ‌brings‌ ‌himself‌ ‌forward,‌ ‌hips‌ ‌grinding‌ ‌in‌ ‌yours‌ ‌roughly‌ ‌now‌ ‌and‌ ‌you‌ ‌had‌ ‌gotten‌ ‌yourself‌ ‌tripped‌ ‌up‌ ‌in‌ ‌a‌ ‌whimper‌ ‌“Yes,‌ ‌please‌ ‌yes,”‌ ‌you‌ ‌breath‌ ‌out‌ ‌quickly‌ ‌and‌ ‌in‌ ‌an‌ ‌instant‌ ‌his‌ ‌hands‌ ‌have‌ ‌already‌ ‌worked‌ ‌your‌ ‌pants‌ ‌off‌ ‌and‌ ‌onto‌ ‌the‌ ‌forgotten‌ ‌floor.‌ ‌ ‌

Sinking‌ ‌to‌ ‌his‌ ‌knees,‌ ‌Risotto‌ ‌takes‌ ‌a‌ ‌finger‌ ‌and‌ ‌traces‌ ‌it‌ ‌over‌ ‌the‌ ‌wet‌ ‌spot‌ ‌he’s‌ ‌had‌ ‌a‌ ‌hand‌ ‌at‌ ‌producing‌ ‌and‌ ‌pulls‌ ‌the‌ ‌garment‌ ‌aside‌ ‌revealing‌ ‌your‌ ‌soaked‌ ‌folds.‌ ‌With‌ ‌one‌ ‌hand‌ ‌holding‌ ‌your‌ ‌underwear‌ ‌aside,‌ ‌the‌ ‌other‌ ‌hooks‌ ‌around‌ ‌your‌ ‌thigh‌ ‌as‌ ‌your‌ ‌leg‌ ‌hung‌ ‌over‌ ‌his‌ ‌shoulder‌ ‌loosely.‌ ‌Without‌ ‌a‌ ‌second‌ ‌guess,‌ ‌his‌ ‌tongue‌ ‌slides‌ ‌out‌ ‌to‌ ‌lick‌ ‌up‌ ‌your‌ ‌slit,‌ ‌only‌ ‌stopping‌ ‌to‌ ‌give‌ ‌your‌ ‌sensitive‌ ‌bud‌ ‌a‌ ‌quick‌ ‌suck.‌ ‌Looking‌ ‌up‌ ‌to‌ ‌see‌ ‌your‌ ‌euphoric‌ ‌expression‌ ‌as‌ ‌he‌ ‌continued‌ ‌to‌ ‌roll‌ ‌your‌ ‌clit‌ ‌in‌ ‌figure‌ ‌eights‌ ‌made‌ ‌him‌ ‌feel‌ ‌some‌ ‌kind‌ ‌of‌ ‌way‌ ‌that‌ ‌was‌ ‌unexplainable.‌ ‌All‌ ‌while‌ ‌watching‌ ‌you‌ ‌when‌ ‌your‌ ‌head‌ ‌falls‌ ‌to‌ ‌the‌ ‌side,‌ ‌Risotto‌ ‌moves‌ ‌the‌ ‌arm‌ ‌holding‌ ‌your‌ ‌leg‌ ‌down‌ ‌so‌ ‌that‌ ‌he‌ ‌can‌ ‌release‌ ‌his‌ ‌confined‌ ‌erection,‌ ‌his‌ ‌hand‌ ‌wrapped‌ ‌around‌ ‌it‌ ‌to‌ ‌give‌ ‌it‌ ‌a‌ ‌few‌ ‌pumps‌ ‌while‌ ‌he‌ ‌continued‌ ‌to‌ ‌eat‌ ‌you‌ ‌out.‌ ‌Your‌ ‌soaked‌ ‌cunt‌ ‌was‌ ‌becoming‌ ‌even‌ ‌more‌ ‌evident‌ ‌when‌ ‌you‌ ‌heard‌ ‌a‌ ‌wet‌ ‌“shlick”‌ ‌come‌ ‌from‌ ‌between‌ ‌your‌ ‌legs,‌ ‌your‌ ‌now‌ ‌wide‌ ‌eyes‌ ‌find‌ ‌your‌ ‌capo’s‌ ‌as‌ ‌he‌ ‌rises‌ ‌to‌ ‌his‌ ‌feet.‌ ‌ ‌

“We‌ ‌aren’t‌ ‌going‌ ‌to‌ ‌worry‌ ‌about‌ ‌me‌ ‌right‌ ‌now,”‌ ‌he‌ ‌reassures‌ ‌you‌ ‌when‌ ‌you‌ ‌had‌ ‌tried‌ ‌to‌ ‌help‌ ‌tend‌ ‌to‌ ‌his‌ ‌own‌ ‌needs‌ ‌as‌ ‌well,‌ ‌his‌ ‌twitching‌ ‌cock‌ ‌was‌ ‌an‌ ‌intimidating‌ ‌size‌ ‌and‌ ‌you‌ ‌feared‌ ‌that‌ ‌maybe‌ ‌he‌ ‌wouldn’t‌ ‌fit‌ ‌all‌ ‌the‌ ‌way.‌ ‌“I’ll‌ ‌take‌ ‌care‌ ‌of‌ ‌you.”‌ ‌he‌ ‌says,‌ ‌removing‌ ‌his‌ ‌entire‌ ‌top‌ ‌gear‌ ‌so‌ ‌that‌ ‌you‌ ‌could‌ ‌see‌ ‌him‌ ‌in‌ ‌his‌ ‌full‌ ‌grace‌ ‌before‌ ‌turning‌ ‌to‌ ‌you‌ ‌but‌ ‌you‌ ‌had‌ ‌already‌ ‌done‌ ‌the‌ ‌pleasure‌ ‌of‌ ‌removing‌ ‌your‌ ‌shirt‌ ‌and‌ ‌bra‌ ‌for‌ ‌him.‌ ‌ ‌

“Eager?”‌ ‌he‌ ‌teases,‌ ‌licking‌ ‌his‌ ‌index‌ ‌and‌ ‌middle‌ ‌fingers‌ ‌before‌ ‌leaning‌ ‌over‌ ‌top‌ ‌of‌ ‌you,‌ ‌his‌ ‌digits‌ ‌daring‌ ‌to‌ ‌enter‌ ‌you‌ ‌but‌ ‌they‌ ‌wouldn’t,‌ ‌even‌ ‌when‌ ‌you‌ ‌bucked‌ ‌your‌ ‌hips‌ ‌into‌ ‌them‌ ‌wantingly.‌ ‌ ‌

“You‌ ‌would‌ ‌be‌ ‌too‌ ‌if‌ ‌your‌ ‌most‌ ‌wet‌ ‌dream‌ ‌came‌ ‌to‌ ‌life.”‌ ‌you‌ ‌nip‌ ‌back‌ ‌playfully,‌ ‌teeth‌ ‌biting‌ ‌into‌ ‌your‌ ‌lower‌ ‌lip.‌ ‌Finally,‌ ‌now,‌ ‌you‌ ‌let‌ ‌your‌ ‌hands‌ ‌feel‌ ‌his‌ ‌abdomen‌ ‌and‌ ‌his‌ ‌chest,‌ ‌fingers‌ ‌tracing‌ ‌every‌ ‌muscle‌ ‌line‌ ‌and‌ ‌scar.‌ ‌

Clearly,‌ ‌you‌ ‌were‌ ‌distracted‌ ‌in‌ ‌your‌ ‌own‌ ‌little‌ ‌personal‌ ‌world‌ ‌while‌ ‌admiring‌ ‌his‌ ‌body,‌ ‌it‌ ‌was‌ ‌as‌ ‌if‌ ‌serenity‌ ‌had‌ ‌manifested‌ ‌into‌ ‌a‌ ‌human‌ ‌being‌ ‌and‌ ‌that‌ ‌was‌ ‌something‌ ‌about‌ ‌you‌ ‌that‌ ‌he‌ ‌truly‌ ‌cherished.‌ ‌He’ll‌ ‌tell‌ ‌you‌ ‌that‌ ‌another‌ ‌time‌ ‌because‌ ‌right‌ ‌now‌ ‌it‌ ‌was‌ ‌time‌ ‌to‌ ‌unravel‌ ‌a‌ ‌tale‌ ‌that‌ ‌has‌ ‌long‌ ‌since‌ ‌been‌ ‌needing‌ ‌to‌ ‌be‌ ‌told.‌ ‌Very‌ ‌slowly‌ ‌he‌ ‌lets‌ ‌his‌ ‌fingers‌ ‌slide‌ ‌into‌ ‌your‌ ‌hole,‌ ‌walls‌ ‌instantly‌ ‌clenching‌ ‌around‌ ‌this‌ ‌new‌ ‌feeling‌ ‌and‌ ‌he‌ ‌takes‌ ‌your‌ ‌lips‌ ‌against‌ ‌his‌ ‌own‌ ‌and‌ ‌you‌ ‌can‌ ‌taste‌ ‌yourself‌ ‌on‌ ‌him.‌ ‌ ‌

“Say‌ ‌my‌ ‌name,‌ ‌tesoro,”‌ ‌he‌ ‌pants‌ ‌after‌ ‌pulling‌ ‌away‌ ‌from‌ ‌your‌ ‌labored‌ ‌and‌ ‌rough‌ ‌kiss,‌ ‌only‌ ‌returning‌ ‌it‌ ‌again‌ ‌due‌ ‌to‌ ‌his‌ ‌impatient‌ ‌sex‌ ‌drive‌ ‌which‌ ‌made‌ ‌you‌ ‌wildly‌ ‌insane.‌ ‌The‌ ‌fact‌ ‌that‌ ‌he‌ ‌wanted‌ ‌you‌ ‌just‌ ‌as‌ ‌much‌ ‌as‌ ‌you‌ ‌did‌ ‌him‌ ‌was‌ ‌a‌ ‌fact‌ ‌that‌ ‌baffled‌ ‌your‌ ‌currently‌ ‌cloudy‌ ‌thought‌ ‌process.‌ ‌ ‌

His‌ ‌fingers‌ ‌had‌ ‌been‌ ‌curling‌ ‌up‌ ‌against‌ ‌every‌ ‌single‌ ‌sweet‌ ‌spot‌ ‌your‌ ‌cunt‌ ‌had‌ ‌to‌ ‌offer,‌ ‌to‌ ‌pressing‌ ‌and‌ ‌rubbing,‌ ‌he‌ ‌made‌ ‌sure‌ ‌every‌ ‌moan‌ ‌that‌ ‌came‌ ‌out‌ ‌of‌ ‌your‌ ‌throat‌ ‌was‌ ‌full‌ ‌of‌ ‌unbridled‌ ‌sexual‌ ‌tension.‌ ‌It‌ ‌was‌ ‌a‌ ‌build-up‌ ‌that‌ ‌he‌ ‌was‌ ‌preparing‌ ‌your‌ ‌unknowing‌ ‌mind‌ ‌for‌ ‌and‌ ‌he‌ ‌kept‌ ‌that‌ ‌very‌ ‌plan‌ ‌in‌ ‌mind‌ ‌while‌ ‌scissoring‌ ‌his‌ ‌fingers‌ ‌back‌ ‌and‌ ‌forth,‌ ‌his‌ ‌hips‌ ‌thrusting‌ ‌his‌ ‌cock‌ ‌against‌ ‌your‌ ‌thigh‌ ‌needily.‌ ‌It‌ ‌seemed‌ ‌as‌ ‌though‌ ‌he‌ ‌was‌ ‌the‌ ‌only‌ ‌one‌ ‌of‌ ‌you‌ ‌both‌ ‌who‌ ‌was‌ ‌willing‌ ‌to‌ ‌drag‌ ‌out‌ ‌a‌ ‌plan‌ ‌of‌ ‌some‌ ‌sort.‌ ‌ ‌

“Ri-...Risotto,‌ ‌I‌ ‌give‌ ‌myself‌ ‌to‌ ‌you.”‌ ‌you‌ ‌muster‌ ‌up‌ ‌from‌ ‌all‌ ‌the‌ ‌previously‌ ‌failed‌ ‌attempts,‌ ‌especially‌ ‌to‌ ‌the‌ ‌ones‌ ‌lost‌ ‌to‌ ‌his‌ ‌need‌ ‌to‌ ‌press‌ ‌his‌ ‌fingers‌ ‌deep‌ ‌inside‌ ‌your‌ ‌stretched‌ ‌walls.‌ ‌“Fucking‌ ‌take‌ ‌me‌ ‌already.”‌ ‌you‌ ‌demand‌ ‌out‌ ‌with‌ ‌a‌ ‌heavy‌ ‌breath‌ ‌and‌ ‌he‌ ‌pulls‌ ‌back‌ ‌to‌ ‌look‌ ‌at‌ ‌you‌ ‌with‌ ‌a‌ ‌shocked‌ ‌expression‌ ‌that‌ ‌turns‌ ‌to‌ ‌a‌ ‌smirk.‌ ‌ ‌

“That’s‌ ‌all‌ ‌I‌ ‌needed‌ ‌to‌ ‌hear.”‌ ‌he‌ ‌muses,‌ ‌standing‌ ‌up‌ ‌fully‌ ‌and‌ ‌dropping‌ ‌his‌ ‌pants‌ ‌to‌ ‌the‌ ‌floor‌ ‌the‌ ‌rest‌ ‌of‌ ‌the‌ ‌way,‌ ‌you‌ ‌hold‌ ‌your‌ ‌legs‌ ‌up‌ ‌as‌ ‌he‌ ‌positions‌ ‌the‌ ‌head‌ ‌of‌ ‌his‌ ‌length‌ ‌at‌ ‌your‌ ‌centre,‌ ‌pulling‌ ‌back‌ ‌his‌ ‌uncut‌ ‌skin‌ ‌he‌ ‌pushes‌ ‌into‌ ‌your‌ ‌wetness‌ ‌with‌ ‌ease‌ ‌though‌ ‌his‌ ‌girth‌ ‌did‌ ‌prove‌ ‌to‌ ‌be‌ ‌a‌ ‌bit‌ ‌bigger‌ ‌for‌ ‌you.‌ ‌ ‌

That’s‌ ‌when‌ ‌looks‌ ‌down‌ ‌to‌ ‌see‌ ‌how‌ ‌much‌ ‌of‌ ‌him‌ ‌you’ve‌ ‌taken‌ ‌and‌ ‌he’s‌ ‌stunned‌ ‌to‌ ‌see‌ ‌you’ve‌ ‌only‌ ‌taken‌ ‌half‌ ‌when‌ ‌he‌ ‌feels‌ ‌the‌ ‌head‌ ‌brush‌ ‌your‌ ‌cervix.‌ ‌Both‌ ‌of‌ ‌you‌ ‌let‌ ‌out‌ ‌sighs‌ ‌of‌ ‌relief‌ ‌and‌ ‌you‌ ‌wiggle‌ ‌your‌ ‌hips‌ ‌forward,‌ ‌your‌ ‌whines‌ ‌and‌ ‌pleas‌ ‌to‌ ‌go‌ ‌on‌ ‌were‌ ‌like‌ ‌a‌ ‌song‌ ‌to‌ ‌his‌ ‌ears‌ ‌and‌ ‌he‌ ‌answered‌ ‌with‌ ‌a‌ ‌similar‌ ‌rhythm.‌ ‌When‌ ‌he’s‌ ‌finally‌ ‌hilted‌ ‌deep‌ ‌within‌ ‌you,‌ ‌your‌ ‌wandering‌ ‌eyes‌ ‌peered‌ ‌down‌ ‌to‌ ‌see‌ ‌your‌ ‌belly‌ ‌poking‌ ‌out‌ ‌and‌ ‌your‌ ‌face‌ ‌lit‌ ‌up‌ ‌like‌ ‌a‌ ‌fire.‌ ‌Risotto‌ ‌had‌ ‌been‌ ‌aware‌ ‌of‌ ‌the‌ ‌small‌ ‌bump‌ ‌being‌ ‌created‌ ‌by‌ ‌his‌ ‌cock‌ ‌but‌ ‌seeing‌ ‌your‌ ‌reaction‌ ‌was‌ ‌enticing‌ ‌to‌ ‌say‌ ‌the‌ ‌least,‌ ‌and‌ ‌he‌ ‌won’t‌ ‌ever‌ ‌forget‌ ‌it.‌ ‌

“Like‌ ‌what‌ ‌you‌ ‌see?”‌ ‌he‌ ‌asks,‌ ‌both‌ ‌of‌ ‌you‌ ‌know‌ ‌that‌ ‌it‌ ‌was‌ ‌a‌ ‌rhetorical‌ ‌question‌ ‌and‌ ‌your‌ ‌continuous‌ ‌nodding‌ ‌was‌ ‌the‌ ‌best‌ ‌answer‌ ‌you‌ ‌could’ve‌ ‌ever‌ ‌given‌ ‌him.‌ ‌In‌ ‌turn,‌ ‌this‌ ‌only‌ ‌fueled‌ ‌his‌ ‌want‌ ‌to‌ ‌make‌ ‌you‌ ‌his‌ ‌and‌ ‌his‌ ‌alone.‌ ‌ ‌

Ris‌ ‌stopped‌ ‌talking‌ ‌when‌ ‌he‌ ‌pulled‌ ‌out‌ ‌after‌ ‌a‌ ‌minute‌ ‌of‌ ‌letting‌ ‌you‌ ‌adjust‌ ‌to‌ ‌his‌ ‌huge‌ ‌size‌ ‌because‌ ‌the‌ ‌last‌ ‌thing‌ ‌he‌ ‌would‌ ‌want‌ ‌is‌ ‌for‌ ‌your‌ ‌insides‌ ‌to‌ ‌get‌ ‌ripped‌ ‌in‌ ‌half.‌ ‌You‌ ‌gasp‌ ‌when‌ ‌you‌ ‌feel‌ ‌how‌ ‌empty‌ ‌he‌ ‌made‌ ‌you‌ ‌feel‌ ‌and‌ ‌he‌ ‌made‌ ‌up‌ ‌for‌ ‌it‌ ‌by‌ ‌bringing‌ ‌his‌ ‌mouth‌ ‌to‌ ‌your‌ ‌right‌ ‌breast,‌ ‌sucking‌ ‌and‌ ‌leaving‌ ‌little‌ ‌love‌ ‌bits‌ ‌around‌ ‌your‌ ‌skin‌ ‌while‌ ‌he‌ ‌pushes‌ ‌himself‌ ‌inside‌ ‌you‌ ‌again‌ ‌but‌ ‌with‌ ‌the‌ ‌intention‌ ‌of‌ ‌carnal‌ ‌fucking.‌ ‌ ‌

His‌ ‌hands‌ ‌find‌ ‌your‌ ‌hips‌ ‌and‌ ‌his‌ ‌grip‌ ‌tightens‌ ‌when‌ ‌he‌ ‌lets‌ ‌his‌ ‌rhythmic‌ ‌thrusts‌ ‌take‌ ‌the‌ ‌lead,‌ ‌his‌ ‌gritted‌ ‌teeth‌ ‌pressed‌ ‌out‌ ‌a‌ ‌growl‌ ‌when‌ ‌your‌ ‌walls‌ ‌gripped‌ ‌his‌ ‌member‌ ‌and‌ ‌for‌ ‌a‌ ‌second‌ ‌his‌ ‌sheathed‌ ‌deep‌ ‌into‌ ‌your‌ ‌pussy.‌ ‌With‌ ‌your‌ ‌arms‌ ‌finding‌ ‌their‌ ‌way‌ ‌around‌ ‌Risotto’s‌ ‌neck,‌ ‌your‌ ‌nails‌ ‌scratch‌ ‌his‌ ‌back‌ ‌as‌ ‌he‌ ‌grinds‌ ‌his‌ ‌hips‌ ‌into‌ ‌yours‌ ‌mercilessly,‌ ‌the‌ ‌head‌ ‌of‌ ‌his‌ ‌cock‌ ‌pistoning‌ ‌against‌ ‌your‌ ‌cervix‌ ‌was‌ ‌enough‌ ‌to‌ ‌be‌ ‌considered‌ ‌a‌ ‌total‌ ‌knock‌ ‌out‌ ‌as‌ ‌you‌ ‌moan‌ ‌out‌ ‌sweet‌ ‌nothings‌ ‌to‌ ‌the‌ ‌sex-filled‌ ‌room.‌ ‌

“Risotto‌ ‌I’m..”‌ ‌you‌ ‌sentence‌ ‌trailed‌ ‌off‌ ‌into‌ ‌a‌ ‌cry‌ ‌as‌ ‌your‌ ‌eyes‌ ‌had‌ ‌watered‌ ‌up,‌ ‌your‌ ‌orgasm‌ ‌was‌ ‌rushing‌ ‌up‌ ‌on‌ ‌you‌ ‌without‌ ‌a‌ ‌single‌ ‌warning‌ ‌and‌ ‌the‌ ‌internal‌ ‌coil‌ ‌wound‌ ‌up.‌ ‌ ‌ ‌When‌ ‌you‌ ‌went‌ ‌to‌ ‌cover‌ ‌your‌ ‌mouth‌ ‌he‌ ‌pulled‌ ‌your‌ ‌hand‌ ‌away‌ ‌and‌ ‌kissed‌ ‌your‌ ‌lips‌ ‌while‌ ‌the‌ ‌other‌ ‌free‌ ‌hand‌ ‌had‌ ‌massaged‌ ‌at‌ ‌your‌ ‌breast,‌ ‌switching‌ ‌to‌ ‌the‌ ‌other‌ ‌every‌ ‌once‌ ‌and‌ ‌a‌ ‌while.‌ ‌The‌ ‌needs‌ ‌of‌ ‌your‌ ‌body‌ ‌were‌ ‌being‌ ‌constantly‌ ‌satisfied‌ ‌by‌ ‌the‌ ‌male‌ ‌above‌ ‌you‌ ‌and‌ ‌there‌ ‌wasn’t‌ ‌a‌ ‌single‌ ‌doubt‌ ‌that‌ ‌the‌ ‌fireworks‌ ‌were‌ ‌about‌ ‌to‌ ‌begin.‌ ‌Que‌ ‌the‌ ‌last‌ ‌step‌ ‌of‌ ‌this‌ ‌endeavor‌ ‌was‌ ‌when‌ ‌he‌ ‌felt‌ ‌your‌ ‌legs‌ ‌wrap‌ ‌around‌ ‌his‌ ‌waist‌ ‌bring‌ ‌you‌ ‌both‌ ‌closer‌ ‌together‌ ‌and‌ ‌unfortunately,‌ ‌there‌ ‌wasn’t‌ ‌very‌ ‌much‌ ‌thrusting‌ ‌room‌ ‌but‌ ‌he‌ ‌wasn’t‌ ‌about‌ ‌to‌ ‌deny‌ ‌you‌ ‌something‌ ‌that‌ ‌your‌ ‌body‌ ‌clearly‌ ‌wants‌ ‌and‌ ‌it‌ ‌was‌ ‌ruling‌ ‌over‌ ‌you.‌ ‌With‌ ‌one‌ ‌last‌ ‌call‌ ‌of‌ ‌his‌ ‌name,‌ ‌you‌ ‌had‌ ‌yelled‌ ‌his‌ ‌name‌ ‌to‌ ‌the‌ ‌ceiling‌ ‌as‌ ‌your‌ ‌orgasm‌ ‌had‌ ‌washed‌ ‌over‌ ‌you‌ ‌and‌ ‌the‌ ‌coil‌ ‌had‌ ‌snapped.‌ ‌ ‌

Risotto’s‌ ‌grinding‌ ‌pattern‌ ‌had‌ ‌become‌ ‌very‌ ‌sporadic,‌ ‌his‌ ‌breathing‌ ‌had‌ ‌shifted‌ ‌to‌ ‌that‌ ‌of‌ ‌an‌ ‌unstable‌ ‌one‌ ‌and‌ ‌in‌ ‌a‌ ‌quick‌ ‌attempt‌ ‌to‌ ‌save‌ ‌both‌ ‌of‌ ‌your‌ ‌dignities,‌ ‌after‌ ‌releasing‌ ‌your‌ ‌legs,‌ ‌his‌ ‌hands‌ ‌grab‌ ‌both‌ ‌of‌ ‌your‌ ‌thighs‌ ‌and‌ ‌brings‌ ‌them‌ ‌together.‌ ‌Pulling‌ ‌out‌ ‌of‌ ‌you‌ ‌abruptly,‌ ‌you‌ ‌yelp‌ ‌and‌ ‌feel‌ ‌him‌ ‌thrust‌ ‌between‌ ‌your‌ ‌thighs‌ ‌slowly‌ ‌a‌ ‌few‌ ‌times‌ ‌before‌ ‌his‌ ‌own‌ ‌release‌ ‌had‌ ‌been‌ ‌met‌ ‌shortly‌ ‌after‌ ‌yours.‌ ‌ ‌ ‌

“Aah..fuck…”‌ ‌he‌ ‌heaves,‌ ‌still‌ ‌nestled‌ ‌in‌ ‌your‌ ‌thighs‌ ‌as‌ ‌he‌ ‌notices‌ ‌the‌ ‌strings‌ ‌of‌ ‌white‌ ‌he’s‌ ‌left‌ ‌all‌ ‌over‌ ‌you,‌ ‌though‌ ‌you‌ ‌only‌ ‌giggle‌ ‌which‌ ‌brings‌ ‌himself‌ ‌down‌ ‌to‌ ‌kiss‌ ‌your‌ ‌cheek‌ ‌while‌ ‌asking‌ ‌what’s‌ ‌tickled‌ ‌your‌ ‌funnybone.‌ ‌ ‌ ‌

“Not‌ ‌gonna‌ ‌lie-”‌ ‌you‌ ‌breath‌ ‌out‌ ‌from‌ ‌coming‌ ‌down‌ ‌from‌ ‌your‌ ‌climax,‌ ‌one‌ ‌of‌ ‌your‌ ‌fingers‌ ‌reach‌ ‌down‌ ‌to‌ ‌swipe‌ ‌up‌ ‌a‌ ‌little‌ ‌bit‌ ‌of‌ ‌his‌ ‌cum‌ ‌and‌ ‌then‌ ‌you‌ ‌lick‌ ‌it‌ ‌off‌ ‌your‌ ‌finger‌ ‌all‌ ‌while‌ ‌maintaining‌ ‌Risotto’s‌ ‌lustful‌ ‌eyes‌ ‌“This‌ ‌has‌ ‌been‌ ‌a‌ ‌dream‌ ‌come‌ ‌true.”‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌

[dear-yandere]

[ terror eyes ]

yandere! risotto nero x reader. commissioned.

› word count: 2.8k. › warnings: consensual kidnapping, delusions, dependency, implied familial abuse, graphic gore and murder. › art credit: 39805470.

“Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red.” — Kait Rokowski, Alight

he didn’t expect to feel this way. he didn’t expect to lose himself in you.

it’s the way your eyes shine when you look at him — the fleeting glances, the lasting smiles. it’s the way you say his name — the unexpected tenderness, the excitement on your face. it’s the way his heart beats wildly in your presence, the way he’s reminded of its existence. it’s the way you remind him that he is human, not the monster he’s made himself out to be. 

when he looks in the mirror, he sees a void, a blackness so thick he’s afraid it will devour him whole. of all the things risotto nero does not fear, he fears himself most. and yet, when you look at him, there is hope, light, the very opposite of what stares at him from the mirror. you look at him like there’s something worth adoring, something worth loving — emotions he never imagined could be directed at him. it’s a foreign feeling, something he hasn’t felt in years. nothing short of a nuisance at first, the way your gaze would pin to him like a fan adores their idol or a disciple worships their god. being the source of admiration is nothing new to him — many a man look up to him with a mixture of awe and fear, some groveling for mercy and others joining his cause. risotto nero is accustomed to being watched, to having eyes on him from every angle and direction: from diavolo, who both trusts and distrusts him; from the capos, who look at him with awe and scorn, and from his own underlings, who both fear and revere him. risotto nero is a force to be reckoned with, and yet, the way you look at him like a lover is enough to unravel his layers, as if there was nothing to fear at all.

it’s hard not to feel naked around you, to not feel vulnerable, as if you’ll figure out his deepest desires and worst fears if you so much as tried. vulnerability is not to be shown in his line of work, even you understand this much. despite the way you look at him with such ardor, you keep distance. whether it’s out of fear or respect, he doesn’t want to find out. it’s better this way, to keep you at arm’s length; you aren’t supposed to be alive. that thought rings true in the recesses of his mind, a reminder of who you truly are, who he truly is, of how this relationship was fated for end from the start. but even he isn’t immune to selfishness and desire.

“welcome home!” 

your voice holds the universe together, its stars and planets localized entirely to the house you both call home. there isn’t this urgent need to be careful around him — to feign happiness, to pretend your heart hasn’t been shattered so many times you’ve lost track of its pieces. there isn’t this urgent need to put your guard up around him, ensure it’s airtight, ensure it can take another beating. there isn’t this urgent need to be afraid around him. not anymore.

you don’t wait for a response, you never do. he never speaks without purpose, and you’ve grown accustomed to the way he wears silence like a mask. bounding up to him with a skip in your step, you attach yourself to his arm and lead him to the living room, the same conversation on your tongue as yesterday, the day before, and every day before that. 

“how was work?”

a trivial question, considering his occupation; work is never good nor bad, because to him, taking life is neither good nor bad. it’s normal, it comes as easy as breathing. but for a moment, he feels the normality of it all wash over him. the catharsis that an ordinary life brings, one where he is married to a loving spouse, someone who greets him when he arrives home, someone who dotes on him at his highest and comforts him at his lowest. for a moment, you are his home, and for a moment, this is normal.

but moments are fleeting.

his heartbeat reminds him that this is real, that you are real. but there’s an ache in his chest and a longing for something else — for something more. he wonders if this happiness isn’t enough for him. if he was good, would he be capable of love? if he was good, would he be worthy of love? of your love?

how foolish... murderers aren’t meant to dream.

“i was so lonely without you, even the little metallica got bored...” you rub the smooth head of the stand, a little part of his soul perched atop your shoulder. a means to keep track of you, but you insist on treating it like a friend. as much as he pretends to find disinterest in your affection, he feels your touch vicariously through the little being and silently revels in it. “you didn’t get hurt did you?” your eyes scan his chest, searching for any visible wounds. when you find none, you look up at him with a smile that reaches your eyes. “i know you have a high pain tolerance, but i know basic first aid, and...”, you hesitate, heat dusting your cheeks like stardust. should you finish that thought? it’d not like he particularly cares for what you have to say, or so he lets on.

“and i want to be of use to you.”

he stares at you, a sense of affection flickering through his gaze. his heartbeat quickens and he searches your eyes only to find that same brilliance, that same hope worn proudly like armor. a reminder that you are blameless in all this. there are still things you don’t understand, things you couldn’t possibly understand. the true nature of his job, the truth about his past, all parts of him remain shrouded with uncertainty, parts of him that will forever remain a mystery. never does he speak of the thoughts weighing him down. you wish you could understand and he wishes he could let you, but his heart does not allow it. you are better off in the light.

“aha, forget i said anything. i was just joking...” your laugh is sardonic and forced, and yet it is still music to his ears. “but rely on me if you need anything, okay?” the question is rhetorical, you don’t expect an answer nor do you expect him to ever need your help, but you offer yourself on a silver platter nonetheless. it’s the least you can do for the man who saved you.

risotto laughs through his nose and corrects that earlier thought: you may belong in the light, but you’re better off here. he tells himself that anyways, convinces himself that what he did was for purely for your benefit. and even then that sentiment feels foreign, his behavior like a man possessed. who is he? that day he saw you, that day he killed your parents, who did he become? he’s heard that some change when they meet a lover, that they become someone else. a sick yet romantic concept, to change into someone else entirely as easily as changing clothes, as if love is enough to change the depravity of humans. tragedy and hatred was never foreign to him, the better part of his adult years spent wallowing in contempt and resentment; a shameful part of him, one he looks back on with disgust. how he used to wish that were true, that the scum who killed his cousin would seek forgiveness and repentance. but life is no fairy tale. and yet, when he met you, he became someone different, someone better.

and it still isn’t enough to make him worthy of you.

you are not red. when he met you, you were pure, untouched, unsullied by the red that surrounded you. unaffected by the red of your parents who hurt you, by the red of your family who let them, by the red of your friends who left you. despite the sea of blood you used to live in, you were anything but. anything but that wretched color, anything but the color of blood. you were his realization, his epiphany: his world has been dyed red for so long, he’d forgotten the beauty underneath.

you make him feel alive again.

“you’ll tell me if something’s wrong, won’t you?” there is no need for words, but you speak in hopes of giving assurance. you want to be his shoulder to lean on and to cry in, even if that offer will forever go untouched. but he can’t. as much as he longs for that companionship, to fall apart in your arms and let you the collect the pieces, he can’t. he doesn’t know what he needs. he doesn’t even know if he needs you.

but you need him. “if it concerns you.” his reply is blithe, far too scathing a response for a lover’s concern, but you show no signs of quarrel. this isn’t the first time he’s brushed you off, especially when this false game of house has become commonplace: go to work, come home, be greeted a woman who’d happily be your wife if you asked, rinse and repeat. “i can take care of myself.”

you nod like you always do, but he knows you’ll fuss over him come his return from work tomorrow. a familiar smile is directed at him — a display which still feels foreign — and the gentle musings of a woman smitten with love follow as you guide him to the couch with the promise of dinner being ready soon. as he seats himself, the worries of the day roll from his shoulders like rain. how you fell for a man like him is beyond his understanding. even if he did save you from a far worse fate, from a family who would sooner be your undoing than the catalyst of your betterment, he is undeserving of your love. what he sees when he looks at you is hope and misguided truth — you’re too bright for him.

“we’re running low on groceries,” you call out from the kitchen, broaching the topic carefully, scared he’ll think you’re eager to leave. in this situation, you suppose most would assume that much, but you... you want to stay here. you want to be with him, to be around him more, not just when he returns from work. you want him, and you know he wants you too if only he’d let himself indulge. “i... i know you usually pick it up yourself, but i want to come with you,” you try to explain, confidence melting away like ice under his gaze. will your words get through to him? “n...next time, i mean, if that’s okay...” you meekly clarify.

if you didn’t admire him, the way he looks at you now would make your legs buckle. his eyes have never scared you, not like he expected they would, but there’s a certain terror they inflict when he looks at you as a nuisance rather than a lover. piercing red on black, the eyes of a demon rather than a human. and yet, he is your guardian angel, the only man who’s ever saved you. you know you’re safe with him, he wouldn’t hurt you like they did. the thought has flitted through your mind from time to time, memories of your abusers’ bodies mangled and torn apart from the inside. explanations don’t come easy to risotto, so you’re still left in the dark about your own parent’s deaths. not that you cared much for their passing, you were more concerned with the nature in which they died. tiny slits had opened on all corners of their body, as if they’d been instantaneously cut from the inside. you still remember their screams, guttural like the dying wails of animals, infused with the intense smell of iron permeating the air. you want to learn more about him, to understand him, and this... this power is the best place to start. why did he save you? why does he keep you? will there come a day where he leaves you too?

“it’s dangerous.” his eyes peel away from yours and you allow yourself the luxury of relaxation. “passione is still looking for you. your parents had an outstanding debt that your disappearance alone isn’t enough to tide over.” he notices the way your shoulders slump in his peripherals. if his lies weren’t for your own good, he might have felt some semblance of regret. “things will settle down, it’s pointless to keep asking,” he adds with a tone of finality. he’s never been one for consolation, so he doesn’t dwell on the sadness that permeates your being. you’re safer here, even you realize that; you don’t put up a fight.

“i see...” you turn away, hands busying themselves with a nearly-finished dinner. the smell of a home-cooked meal imbues the air with warmth, a reminder of his childhood. how long has it been since he’s enjoyed the presence of another, a meal made by someone who loves him? even when he treats you harshly, keeping you in the dark about your own safety and the reality of your situation, it’s never held against him. the love you pour into his meals is palpable, carrying a certain sweetness even where the dish has no place for it. if he’s being honest, it’s... addicting. to feel normal again.

his earlier reasoning isn’t a complete lie, more of a... half-truth. upon learning of your home life, of how much abuse you endured at the negligent hands of parents who refuse to let you leave, he’d intended to kill you too. put you out of your misery. leaving the children of hits alive is problematic for a number of reasons, the biggest being that grief drives people to extremes. risotto has always been keen on finishing jobs thoroughly, but even he could see that something inside of you was... broken. the way you watched your parents being ripped apart, mauled by something you can’t see nor begin to comprehend... amidst the guts and gore, he wasn’t able to place an emotion to it at the time, only that it was visceral, animalistic. realization only came later: the look on your face was one of pure happiness. surrounded by the blood of your own family, you were happy, relieved, hopeful. to see them finally suffer as much as you had, to see them finally gone from your life; you were so much like him, and yet so far removed all the same.

regret is lost on him. he doesn’t regret ‘saving’ you. your parents had it coming; their presence in the underbelly of naples had become troublesome for passione, the pair even going so far as to try to escape their debt to the mafia. a last-ditch attempt akin to the behavior of animals who’ve been cornered, risotto almost felt pity upon learning of your existence. the onus of repaying their debt would have fallen on you, a tactic even he didn’t quite agree with. but passione was never known for their lenience; this was the life risotto had chosen, after all. a life of crime and of murder, a life befitting a monstrous stand like his. at some point, he’d lost all sense of sympathy for his hits, their faces replaced by that of the drunk driver who killed his cousin. that scum’s sentence was far too lenient, and risotto has seen first-hand the trouble leniency can bring.

but he felt sorry for you. coming to terms with the sudden onslaught of pity was nauseating enough, but he’d offered to hide you until things settle down. the don was enraged that you’d ‘escaped’ before risotto could finish you off, but it was easy enough to let it go: you’ll ‘turn up’ eventually, and the debt your parents owed is the back burner for the time being. and, whether or not you preferred to die at the hands of your savior, you still followed him without quarrel when he took you. under normal circumstances, perhaps it’s better to say he kidnapped you, but you’ve always insisted that he did just the opposite; he freed you. for the first time in his life, he saved someone. where he couldn't save his cousin, he could save you.

“i’ll stop asking, but... maybe we can go together one day?” you pipe up, already setting a fresh plate of food before him. a model housewife, if this had been under normal circumstances. despite your attempts to hide any sadness, you wear a blissful expression when you glance up at him, head curiously tilted with the weight of your admiration for him. when you speak, he feels your love for him in every word; when you speak, he feels like he can love again. “as a couple,” you suggest, your smile genuine.

no, he doesn’t deserve you. not in the slightest.

“...i’d like that.”

but maybe one day he will.

dear-yandere, all rights reserved.