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prosciuttulipa · 3 months

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What profession would La Squadra be in, if they weren't in the mafia?

aka what normal jobs La Squadra would use their Stand abilities for because I love being a bit silly

Risotto: Blacksmith/Artisan

I feel this is rather intuitive, with Metallica. He's one of the most sought after blacksmiths in Italy, and is famous for producing kitchen knives. Any self-respecting chef knows of Risotto's knives— the word around is that his knives are so sharp, they cut through bone like butter. They require little to no maintenance, not to mention the fact that it takes years for them to start getting dull. Because of their outstanding quality, Risotto's knives are constantly in high demand, so much so that he's able to jack up the prices to eyewatering amounts. They're also limited in stock, since he only makes 52 a year, one for each week.

(He can definitely make more, but why bother? Work smart, not hard.)

He also has other side brands to his blacksmith business. He has a branch for barber supplies—razors and hairdressing scissors, whose blades also share that signature sharpness. He tried to start a side brand for stationery, but quickly stopped production when it was reported that kids had hurt themselves on the scissors and mechanical pencils. Luckily, the scandal was quickly forgiven, seeing that Risotto had covered these kids' medical fees as soon as he was notified.

His favourite side brand, however, is his jewellery. It's a hit amongst the goth and emo communities, who enjoy his horror-inspired designs. There's one design that has been affectionately dubbed 'Ghosties': little monsters with ghoulish faces, wiggling around in bunches. His most popular product is his blood jewellery—buyers send him a vial of their blood, and he transforms it into a jewellery piece of their choosing. The patterns on the metal arise from the makeup of the client's blood, making each piece one-of-a-kind.

Prosciutto: Winery Owner

Rotting is just a hop, skip and a jump away from fermenting, and The Grateful Dead always delivers results.

Prosciutto's wines are an enigma to connoisseurs. A general rule of thumb is that wine is better the longer it's been fermented, but Prosciutto's year-old wines taste like they've been aged for decades. This makes his actual, decade-old wines the pinnacle of decadence: rich, smooth, and unforgiving on the wallet.

His winery produces all sorts, but he's most famous for his red wines. They're full-bodied and complex the way a symphony is, each layer arising with an almost engineered exactness. Many say that he's managed to manipulate the precise amount of fermentation for each component—a compliment that Prosciutto receives with a wry smile.

Most people are happy to accept that wineries have their trade secrets, but Prosciutto's one generates more discourse than most. His winery has been the subject of many a rumour—that he steals and resells other wineries' products; that he adds illegal substances into his wines to make them taste that good; that he's a nepo baby who inherited his father's wine collection and is just slapping his own brand onto old bottles.

It's when an investigative journalist tries to break into Prosciutto's winery, only for his body to turn up in a river a week later, that the rumours stop circulating. There have been a few more attempts to unveil the winery's secrets since then, but each one has resulted in more dead bodies. If it's a competing winery who's trying to do some digging, they find that an entire decade of their wine goes bad the very next day.

Because of this, Prosciutto's winery has also earned the nickname, 'Azrael's Wine'. It hasn't affected sales in the slightest.

Formaggio: Heister

I'm certain that there are other jobs which Little Feet would be useful for, but Formaggio likes to live life on the edge. He's the only person (aside from Illuso) that I can see willingly choosing a life of crime, if he had a chance for a do-over.

So yes, he absolutely would abuse his abilities to steal things. He starts small at first, nicking wallets and watches, taking them off their owners without piquing their notice. But as he grows more confident, he pulls off more elaborate robberies—stealing diamond necklaces off their stands in broad daylight, sneaking into safes by shrinking to the size of their locks, breaking them from the inside out. He's more than able to get in and out without a trace, but Formaggio is a cocky bastard, and leaves a shrunken shoe at each scene, a sign that he was there and got away with it. As his crimes start to gain traction, the shoes earn him the nickname, 'Ken Doll'.

His biggest heist is when he steals the chandelier from Tiffany's. It takes a week to pull off, unscrewing the chandelier slowly and imperceptibly, shrinking parts of it in the night. He has to live inside the chandelier the entire time, but he doesn't mind; it's beautiful, and he feels like he's in a mansion. But as soon as the last screw is undone, he shrinks the chandelier and stuffs it into his pocket, taking off with a triumphant cackle. The only evidence that he was there is a cheeky, normal-sized shoe hanging from the ceiling.

Illuso: Storage Facility Owner (?)

I feel like Illuso is the sort of person you imagine when someone says, "I know a guy," and Man in the Mirror doesn't help his case in the slightest. Or maybe that's how he likes it. Hard to tell, with Illuso.

On his business cards, he's a storage facility owner. He owns several warehouses, and they're well maintained. Companies who store with him are impressed by how neat everything is, not a single dust particle to be found when they retrieve their items. Contrary to popular belief (re: his resting bitch face), he provides excellent customer service, things showing up where and when they're needed without a hitch.

But there are a few things about the operation that feel a bit...off. There are no employees in these warehouses, save for the occasional elderly cleaner. Illuso doesn't hire any delivery trucks for his company, which doesn't line up with the amount of things he has to store and transport. Then there's the matter that all the storage rooms are lined with mirrors. It strikes his clients as strange—what if something falls and shatters the glass?—but they never comment.

One time, a salesman had forgotten his things in one of the storage rooms, having just delivered 20 boxes of supplies. He returned to the room, and to his surprise, found that nothing was in there, save for what he had left behind. Distressed, he went to find Illuso, saying that someone had stolen his company's supplies.

"Relax, sir," Illuso had assured him, with a smile that the salesman didn't dare question, "everything is safe with me, I assure you."

After all, what safer storage is there than a mirror world?

Melone: Fortune Teller for Couples

Melone will be making no strange creatures with Baby Face, but he will be using it to predict couple compatibility, and the character of their children, should they want any.

At first, he started off by giving predictions to his girl friends when they met on Sundays for tea, accurately guessing whether the new person they were dating would be a hit or a miss. It had been all fun and games at first, but when it became clear that Melone's accuracy was damn near perfect, Sunday tea times were taken with all the seriousness of a prophecy. His friends invited more friends, who invited more friends, until he ended up just opening a stall on Sundays to predict couple compatibility.

Apart from his skill, Melone's personality made him a major hit from the get-go. He gave surprisingly good advice that wasn't just "incompatible horoscopes", offering insightful ideas about communication, boundaries and care. However, he would occasionally forget to follow what he preached, becoming enamoured with how pretty a woman's skin was, or explaining in entirely too much detail how fertile someone's husband would be if they wanted children.

He became significantly more careful with his tongue (both literally and figuratively) when he was scouted by radio for his predictions, widening his audience to the entirety of Italy. His show, 'Matching with Melone', aired during Sunday tea times, during which couples would send in their details and horoscopes. There was doubt as to whether or not Melone's accuracy would hold up, but without fail, he managed to predict the fortune or downfall of each couple he interviewed.

Once, a listener rang in, saying that Melone had predicted the outcome of their relationship incorrectly. The man had laughed, and answered, "Darling, Melone is never wrong. Only your horoscope is."

It turns out that, as always, Melone was right. The listener thought that their partner was a Pisces, but it turns out they were an Aries instead. Oops.

Ghiaccio: Freezer Warehouse Owner

Unlike Illuso, Ghiaccio's business is fairly cut and dry. What you see is what you get, with White Album keeping his freezers cold all year round. He's only got one warehouse, located near the coast for fishermen to dump their produce in.

There's honestly not much to say about Ghiaccio's life. He keeps out of people's way, finding them irritating most of the time; his job is a means of money, not purpose. Aside from the daily check that his freezers are still freezing, he spends most of his time relaxing on the dock, hanging out with Pesci (elaborated on in Pesci's part). He hates that the coast is such a popular tourist spot, though. He can't stand it when he hears foreigners mispronouncing Italian words.

Otherwise, it's a quiet existence. Sometimes, when he's feeling it, he'll freeze a path into the sea, standing on the ice to watch the stars.

Pesci: Fisherman

True to Beach Boy, Pesci finds a quiet and fulfilling life as a fisherman. Although his ability ensures that he has a catch every time, he makes sure not to overfish, so that the ecosystem stays balanced. He doesn't have his own stall at the local fisherman's market, preferring to sell his catch from his boat instead. He finds that he's able to converse with the locals in a much more intimate manner this way, taking his time to chat with them instead of hurrying them off for the next customer.

Once he's sold everything for the day, Pesci spends his afternoons trying to teach Ghiaccio how to fish; Ghiaccio had approached him about it, the man saying that he had heard it was a good way to learn patience. It's been slow going. Sitting on the dock and waiting for a fish to bite has not seemed to produce any further patience for Ghiaccio, but he returns day after day out of spite. Though, Pesci likes to think it's a little bit for his company as well.

They talk idly about town affairs and daily life, otherwise happy to sit in silence. Every so often, Pesci will use his ability to guide a fish onto Ghiaccio's line, smiling as his friend lets out a triumphant shout. It feels good, to give back.

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vlad-wakinyan · 10 months

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Risotto Nero 🏖 Summer Edition 🏖

The Squadra's Boss 💦

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arklaycomplex · 9 months

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i know theyre losing and i pay for my place by the ring

#jjba #jjba part 5 #vento aureo #jjba golden wind #risoillu #illuris #risillu #illuso jojo #risotto nero jojo #la squadra #lyrics from i bet on losing dogs of course #this was supposed to be a doodle of their giogio pallets but i lost the plot

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reclusiverisottonero · 11 months

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[𝐍𝐨𝐭] 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 || 𝐀𝐨3

➷ Risotto Nero/afab!Reader; 2.9k wc

⤷ 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞: Gender Neutral; afab genitals referred to as 'cunt', no descriptions of Reader's chest ⤷ 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬/𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Nipple play, mutual masturbation, slightly dom reader, tit worship, Risotto in a turtleneck. Heavily inspired by these pictures on twitter. ⤷ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Risotto wears a turtleneck, it affects you more than you thought it would.

“My eyes are up here.” Risotto says as he approaches, looking down at you with a raised brow. “To be fair,” A smug little smile tugs at your lips as you continue to stare directly at the outline of his tits through his clothes, “I barely come up to your chest. How am I supposed to look any higher without it breaking my neck?"

“My eyes are up here.” Risotto says as he approaches, looking down at you with a raised brow.

“To be fair,” A smug little smile tugs at your lips as you continue to stare directly at the outline of his tits through his clothes, “I barely come up to your chest. How am I supposed to look any higher without it breaking my neck?”

Risotto hides a smile of his own at your quip with a long swig of his coffee, throat bobbing smoothly beneath the collar of his turtleneck. The white turtleneck that seems like it’s accentuating every angle and curve of his body tenfold, stretching across his pecs and abs in a way that’s had your mouth watering since he walked into the room where you’ve been waiting for the rest of La Squadra to shuffle in, and haven’t been able to pull your eyes away since.

The irony of the situation isn’t lost on you. Risotto is practically shirtless everyday and yet you hardly bat an eye over it. It’s not that you’ve never seen him wear a proper shirt before, but you had no idea he owned something so fitted. How the fabric clings to him like a second skin makes you acutely aware of every square inch of what lies hidden underneath, along with the memories of how it tastes, and how it likes to flush so wonderfully for you when played with, running in a loop through your mind.

“So what’s the occasion? It’s not that cold out.” You sidle up a bit closer, resting your hand on Risotto’s hip to brush your thumb along the hem of the fabric. Slip two fingers beneath and rub along the light protrusion of his hip bone nice and slow.

From the outside he appears unfazed, but the twitch of muscle beneath the pads of your fingers spreads a satisfying heat through your guts. In response he merely licks his lips and pretends to assess his mug to make how he’s peering down the front of your own v-neck shirt inconspicuous, “Laundry day. Coat’s at the dry cleaners and I couldn’t go completely shirtless. It would have been too much of a distraction.”

Upon the vocal inflection Risotto allows the previously tucked away smile to bloom into a full smirk, and he hunches over ever so slightly towards you as your hand completely sinks inside his sweater—

“Are we gonna go over how to split the pay for the last job or are you two gonna keep eye-fucking in front of everyone?” Illuso’s snippy attitude snaps the tension in half, “Because I have other places I could be right now.”

Turning around you see the rest of the team have finally arrived and are situated in their unspoken assigned seats. Some watch your display with interest, but mostly everyone is just plain bored. Your relationship with Risotto has never been a secret, and though neither of you make it a habit to be so forward with public displays of affection you’re not fussed about when they unintentionally happen, either. As you step away you purposefully drag your hand longer than necessary across Risotto’s hip and enjoy how his hand flexes around his mug. Red eyes remain locked on yours for another moment, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly as he holds back another smirk, before the fond expression melts away and snaps up to lock onto a new target.

“Then why are you here if this is such a waste of your time? You’re more than welcome to leave. Surely you don’t need the money badly enough if you’re in such a rush.” Risotto’s tone is calm like the waves of a summer shore housing a riptide just below the surface, waiting to ensnare anyone that swims too close.

Illuso follows up his leaders’ words with the rare sight of sitting down and shutting the fuck up.

With that out of the way, you and Risotto take your seats to discuss what you’re here for and the next half-hour is a masterclass in practicing self-restraint. You do your best to keep your gaze from straying below his shoulders, but you’re only human. The material felt thin under your touch earlier, obviously meant to be worn with layers underneath it. Something that Risotto didn’t care for, as the lightest pull of the thin fabric makes it just sheer enough to give you and everyone else a teasing preview of what lies underneath. When he crosses his arms over his chest you have to bite the inside of your cheek to ground yourself. It pushes his tits together to make it look like they’re a set of pillows ready to bust out of their casing and his biceps bulge in a stark outline thanks to the fabric’s color.

You cross your legs to tamper down the dull ache rising up in your cunt and Risotto’s eye briefly catches yours as you do. The subtle twitch of his lips as he tries to maintain an air of indifference throughout talking to other members of the team, and the comically large sigh he puts on to make his chest rise and fall with it, convinces you that he absolutely knows what this is doing to you right now.

“Um, are you okay?” Pesci subtly leans over with a whisper of your name, “You seem kinda anxious.” His saccharine tone would be endearing in any other situation, but right now only serves to make your eyebrow twitch.

“Yes. I’m fine.” Your reply is a little too fast to come off as casual, making Pesci slowly cringe back into the safety of the couch cushions (and Prosciutto’s side). “This is fine.”

By the time things wind down you’re shamelessly shoving people out the door. Risotto continues to feign obliviousness, merely sitting in his armchair and pretending to fiddle around with his flip phone while you have your last teammate by the elbow to toss him out.

“Hey, why so rough all of a sudden?” Melone chuckles, lets himself be manhandled a little too easily, “At least get me out of my clothes before you decide to throw me arou—” Without a word you toss the man out of the office, slamming the door on his smug face.

Once facing Risotto, he forgoes the act and leans back into the armchair with legs resting on the coffee table for the full length of his body to be on display. His stupid turtleneck clinging and shifting along his form as he gets more comfortable. Getting from the door back to him is a blur, and once you’re in his lap you feel like a dog that’s finally caught up with the car they’ve been chasing. He inadvertently helps choose your next move as he reaches for the hem of his top as if to take it off. Without a second thought your hand shoots for his wrists to put a stop to it.

“Don’t.” Your tone isn’t demanding but Risotto stills as if it is. Rolls his bottom lip between his teeth and stares down at where you hold him for a moment. When you deign to let him go he moves to rest his hands around your hips instead.

“Of all the things I wear, it’s a sweater that has you acting like this.” It sounds like it's meant to be a scoff or an attempt at a scolding, but the lightest tint of pink dusting Risotto’s cheeks weakens the bite meant to go with his bark, “I forget how easy you can be sometimes.”

“As if you’re complaining.” You tilt your hips forwards to grind down against him with a sigh of relief at the ache in your cunt getting some attention. The only sign it affects him is the way he tucks his thumbs into the waistband of your jeans so he can rub wide circles against the swell of your ass.

Warmth pours from his tits into your palms as they stroke and press into the soft muscle, the touch making his heartbeat start to speed up under your hand. You lightly cup his chest to enjoy their weight, chuckling at how Risotto sucks a breath through his teeth once you start to firmly knead around his nipples. He drags you in closer, silently demanding more from you as his cock starts to fill out from inside his pants.

“Of course not.” He murmurs as his eyes flutter shut, greedily arching his chest out for more friction and pressure from your doting hands. “Never. Not when it’s you.”

There’s not much you can say to that, better to use this invitation and show how much appreciation you have for his words. You dip your head down to press your open mouth directly to his nipple, finding it under the fabric on the first try, and begin to suck.

“Mm, that’s…” Risotto trails off with a soft grunt as your mouth plays with him over the shirt. His reaction makes the smooth, dry feel of the fabric on your tongue completely worth it. A hand settling on the back of your head is your cue to pinch and roll the other one between your fingers. Relish the way he shivers at the touch, and the moans he makes as he guides your hips to rock against his.

After some time, when he has two big wet patches showing off what you’ve done to him, you're finally left satisfied. He squirms beneath you as he takes a moment to look over himself while you sit back looking a little too proud over what you’ve done. His nipples stick out deliciously under the damp fabric, and you just know the cool air combined with that is making the hardened little nubs feel even more sensitive. You press your nails into them, trace slow, tight circles and it brings out another round of sounds that causes more unresolved lust to soak through your underwear.

“Think you can cum from having your tits played with like this?” You exhale heavy against his neck as you continue the torture, his cock twitching at the way you refer to his chest.

“We don’t have the time to find out.” He says after a moment lost in bliss, which is sadly true. You don’t want to look at the clock and break the illusion of this moment frozen in time. The reality though, is that Risotto’s work and by extension your own, is hardly ever done. There are other places you both have to be and should already be going to. All you care about right now though is the way Risotto’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, and a reedy sound that wells up from the back of his throat, “ So stop teasing .”

Metallica suddenly has the fly of your jeans open as well as Risotto’s, your hands reaching for each other at the same time. You take his cock out as two thick fingers slide into your underwear and down between the lips of your cunt. His knuckles brush against your swollen clit and a moan slips free as his cock pulses out precum over your fingers. Though it’s not enough to distract you from noticing him trying to take his top off again. Quickly you latch back onto his chest, look up at him with the same energy as when you denied him the first time. Your teeth sink down into the fabric, press against the flesh hidden away and he bucks into the grip you have around his cock.

“F-fuck,” His breathing goes ragged, chest heaving as he clumsily tries to sink his fingers inside of you. Your chuckle at his desperation turns into a whimper when his digits meet their target, smoothly seat themselves inside, and start to thrust.

It takes a moment to find any semblance of rhythm. Neither of you can focus enough to stroke and pump in sync with the other, far too lost in the feeling of heat and slick and pleasure to attempt something so coordinated. Another curl of his fingers makes your hips begin to move without your input, mouth detaching from his chest with a moan you can’t contain, and Risotto uses the opportunity to rest a hand on your jaw so he can bring you in for a kiss. He groans into you, body vibrating against yours as his cock becomes wetter with every stroke.

You replace your mouth with your hand on his chest and god, you wish you could touch Risotto everywhere you want, all at once. Wish you had the self restraint to wait so you could take him back to your flat and properly take your time with this. The hand on your jaw moves to the small of your back to readjust its hold, encouraging you to keep bouncing on his fingers. He clings to you as if he wants the both of you to melt into one, though it’s more likely so he doesn’t accidentally throw you off with how hard he’s trying to fuck into your fist. Whatever the intent, you know you’ll be feeling the dull ache of his hand-prints on your body for hours after this.

Hyper-focused as you are, you don’t feel orgasm creeping on until it’s too late. Pleasure snaps you back into the present, tossing your head back with a groan as you grind your clit against the heel of Risotto’s palm to ride it out. Nothing but your harsh breaths and wet sounds of Risotto’s hand against your cunt to fill the room until you finally sag against him. The barely-there kisses ghosting over your forehead help to keep you centered, give you the energy needed to reach down and take the juices of your release to use and slick up his cock even further. The length twitches wildly in your palm, a string of curses falling from his mouth only to quickly be silenced when he pulls up the thick collar of his turtleneck so he can bite down into it as he begins to fall apart.

“That’s it babe, give it to me. Be a good boy and give it to me.” Your soft exhale against his lips is undeniably a demand this time. A hand sneaks under his sweater for the on-skin contact he’s been wanting since the beginning to play with the nipple you feel has been most neglected. It's as if the hardened little nubs are hard-wired for every touch to go straight to his cock, his jaw flexes and he groans with the effort to keep biting on his collar while you drag your nails across his nipple, before flicking and pulling it in time with every pump of his cock you give.

Risotto buries his face into your neck to try and further stifle his moans while he cums, tremors wracking through his body while you continue playing with him through it. Only stopping when well and truly can’t handle anymore and he sinks back into the armchair like he’s just run a marathon. His soft grunts are music to your ears as you admire the wreck he’s become, the turtleneck collar sliding out from between his teeth to hang stretched and misshapen around his neck. Suddenly craving more you go to kiss him, but his hand on your chest brings everything to a stand still.

“I was serious when I said we don't have time.” He pants, still a bit winded. Running a hand through his hair he follows up with, “I’m supposed to meet with The Boss’ liaison for another assignment today.”

“Wait, that was happening today? ” Well, fuck. You watch the clouds of bliss rapidly evaporate from his eyes as he gawks down at the wet patches your mouth has left behind on his clothes. More cum than you both thought coats his lower half, slowly being absorbed into the fabric and there is no amount of clean up that would stop people from figuring out what he’s been up to.

He checks his phone for the time with a grimace, “I need to be there in less than half an hour.”

By the grace of god or fate, but mostly because of Risotto’s ability to be prepared for just about any scenario, there’s a ready-bag hidden under the bathroom sink; packed with a too tight black t-shirt that now stretches across his chest and shoulders. The speed at which he cleans up is impressive, though you’re more distracted by the obvious once again as he walks past to leave.

“My eyes are up here,” He chuckles, taking your chin in a gentle hold to guide your gaze upwards.

You play with the hem of his ‘new’ shirt, a shameless grin blooming across your own features, “To be fair, where else am I supposed to—”

Risotto slots his mouth over yours, and the rest of your sentence melts away along the slide of his tongue, brain blurting out static in response to the careful drag of his teeth over your bottom lip. A small sound escapes from his throat as he pulls away, like it physically pains him to part from you. Those red-black eyes give you a soft, adoring look, and then the mood is broken by the balled-up mess that is his sweater being shoved into your face.

“Ris, what are you— Hey!”

“If you want to see me in that again then take responsibility and clean up after yourself.” He laughs, and without another word he’s out the door and gone, while you’re left alone to figure out how to hide all of his other clothes (and prevent him from buying more) so he’ll be forced to wear this stupid thing everyday for the rest of his life.

#risotto nero x reader #risotto x reader #risotto nero #risotto jjba #risotto nero jjba #risotto nero jojo #my writing

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shineonyoucrazyyandere · 2 years

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How would Risotto Narancia Giorno and Secco use their stands to try and woo another stand user? I feel like Risotto would leave little metal figures in the shape of flowers or animals to try and win praise

It’s rather interesting what can be considered “wooing” from each stand user. Risotto likely uses Metallica methodically, and you can have derangement like Secco. Mix of a small scenario and a Headcanon or two. Got a personal Headcanon Risotto knows how to play guitar so don’t mind me

Yandere! Risotto Nero

It’s three in the morning, pitch black, and you’re awoken by the soft sound of a guitar being strummed right outside your closed door. It’s a Metallica song of all things (something like My Friend of Misery). You’re mildly terrified and you realize you left your phone outside of your room (or the landline is in another part of the apartment/house).

At first you lie there, realizing it’s sort of comforting to hear said guitar. You swallow your pride realizing there might be an opposing stand user on the other side, eventually deciding to tiptoe out of bed you head towards the door.

Upon approaching you feel a stinging sensation on your hand that was about to open the door. A small bit of blood blossoming fourth from the wound. Just for a split second you swore you could’ve spotted a metallic entity withering in your blood. Though now the only thing there was the smallest flower made of metal.

You abruptly didn’t have the energy to do anything further and ended up kneeling by the door. That also meant you couldn’t muster the strength to summon your stand either. It seemed that this user didn’t want you to open the door. Though they weren’t exactly pouncing at the chance to try and break in themselves it seemed. Was this performance a ridiculing of your potential death or did it mean something more?

The mysterious guitarist continued playing as if nothing occurred in those few moments. Meaning they had a near perfect mastery over their stand. The only thing you could do was tiredly listen to this personal show, it seemed that’s all this person wanted you to do.

The first song had finished and you heard the beginning of yet another, but your consciousness could barely cling on. The song eventually fades….

Yandere! Narancia Ghirga

He ponders all sorts of things that he could impress you, using Aerosmith. It’s simply like a personal air show just for you and himself. As he navigates his stand between narrow objects, spinning in the air as he’s seen at in person shows or documentaries if he bothered to pay attention. Narancia isn’t completely stupid and makes sure to localize Aerosmith to a certain distance between the both of you, so no one user wise can spot either of you.

Yandere! Secco

Due to working with a psychopathic/sadistic man and his own indulgent nasty desires Secco’s way of “impressing” you can come across as pretty morbid. He tends to end up murdering pests such as mice, insects, or even snakes by sinking them underground. Anything really that you might not be fond of, he’d sort of would expect a sugar cube like Cioccolata does from a “good” deed. Your attention alone suffices however.

#yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere jjba #yandere #yandere jjba x reader #yandere jjba imagines #jjba x reader #yandere scenario #yandere headcanons #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #narancia ghirga #secco jojo #jojo risotto #risotto nero Jojo #jjba imagines

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slowburnheart · 4 months

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✂️

ID: A traditional drawing of Risotto Nero from Jojo's Bizarre Adventures in golden. On the left he’s drawn from the torso up, shirtless and has a serious expression, and on the right he’s smiling. End ID.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jjba vento aureo #jojo part 5 #jjba #la squadra #risotto nero jojo #jjba part 5 #jjba vento auero #2023

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kasathedog-jjba · 2 years

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Now that we're dead

#risotto nero #risotto nero jojo #la squadra #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #golden wind #Vento Aureo #kasa's art

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igot-sarang-ggg · 1 year

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hi! May I ask? I don't know English very well, so I'm sorry, it's not my native language. Can I get a fanfic with risotto x f!a reader who shows herself very coolly and arrogantly on assignments. but she begins to literally melt when she is hugged. I hope I asked clearly😅

Thank you for your request! Your English is really good. Thanks again submitting a request! Hope you like it!

Supercilious (Risotto x Reader)

Masterlist

Small Summary: You're the type of person that tries too hard during missions and thinks that you're the best. Even if you mess up in a mission you blame it on others rather then taking responsibilities for it. Your first mission on your own and it doesn't go the way you thought it would. After coming back Risotto calls you into his office (don't want to spoil to much)

Small mentions: SPOILERS, a bit fluff, spell check is out the window, strong language, mention of blood and murder..

P.S Your outfit is a vest and tie

Today I had a solo mission for the first time, I guess the boss finally saw my true potential. I tracked the man down and went to his house. My phone started buzzing I ignored it and kept moving forward to assassinate him. I climbed up to his window and sent my stand to investigate the area. There were three cameras in place and I know where their blind spots were. My phone buzzed again, I hung up and made my way in putting on my mask. And killed the man.

I was now taking care of the body when I got a call from Melone. "Yeah, what is it?" He called so many times. I removed my bloody gloves and used my stand to get rid of the evidence. "Risotto's looking for you, when are you coming back?" I sighed looking around the room there was a small camera on a desk recording everything, I didn't notice that camera was there, "Might be awhile, I'm being watched by cameras right now, is Ghiaccio there?"

"Shit, how did you not notice that earlier? Are you wearing your mask to cover your face?" He shouted through the phone, "Just shut the fuck and put Ghiaccio on the phone before I send my stand to kill you!" I could hear him swallow through the phone. As long as I know my enemy's Coordinates are through Longitude and Latitude I'm able to find them and kill them. "He's already on it Y/n, his looking for the locations."

My phone buzzed. Ghiaccio sent me the coordinates, "Thanks you see you guys in a bit." Closing my eyes I pictured the world's globe in front of me looking for their locations and sent my stand after the ones watching. Five men were killed, and I destroyed their computers along with the camera that was watching.

Once I made it back to our Hideout I removed my mask and sat down next to Pesci, "How was your mission big sis?" Pesci asked, I didn't say anything instead side glared at him, "You better be careful with her Pesci... It looks like the mission wasn't successful." Formaggio said.

"It was. It's just that dumb-ass Melone kept calling me while I was on the mission and made me lose focus on scanning the room. Speaking of which... Where is that bitch?" I undid my tie and unbuttoned my shirt a bit, "He went out with Illuso. After he was done talking to you." Pesci said. "I see..." He ran away before I could see him.

That's right, he mentioned Risotto wanted to speak with me. I got up and walked over to Risotto's office, I knocked. "Come in," I entered the room closing the door behind me, "You wanted to see me, boss?" He looked at me from head to toe focusing his eyes on my undone tie and buttons, "Sorry, I just finished a mission and forgot to fix my outfit."

He walked over to me and adjusted the buttons and popped my collar up, his fingers lightly touching my skin giving me goosebumps, "Y/n you and I have been assigned to a mission." He lowered the collar down and tightened the tie. "When are we leaving?" I asked. He placed his hand on my chin making me look at him; his thumb was now on my lips.

Why can't I move? Risotto wasn't using his stand.

"Soon." He said. There was then a knock on the door, "Come in." Risotto said as we remained in the same spot. "Here's the paperwork you asked for." Prosciutto walked in placed the pile of paper on his desk and then walked out.

Before I could even process anything Risotto was now embracing me, his arms were wrapped around my waist and his head was placed on my shoulder... what is this?! WHY IS HE DOING THIS?! "He-Hey Risotto are you okay?! What's going on?!" I tried fighting him off but he wouldn't budge, "Dude! LET GO!" I shouted.

His grip around me tightened, "Relax..." He said in a calm voice, "This is a hug," I loosened my stance I could feel my legs going weak, "I'm not trying to hurt you, this is more of a thing that's done in friendship. So relax." This is a hug? Why do I feel myself going weak from his touch?

"Let go of me Risotto! We have a mission to do!" I kept fighting against his grip. Why am I going weak... no, stop you're stronger than that. "You've never experienced a hug have you?" I didn't say anything, "Since you're new here you need to know that we treat each other like family. That includes hugging. We only do it 'cause Pesci had insisted we do so." He pulled away and a smirk was on his face.

"You're face is red my dear Y/n." I could feel my face burning up at that point, "I guess you like the hug, am I correct?" Is he teasing me? "Can we just Focus on the mission?"

"Sure whatever you say." If he wasn't our leader I would have killed or punched him for doing that...

But, why do I want more?

"I have the Coordinates, here. And here is a picture of the guy we're looking for." He handed me the paper I manifested my stand reading what was on the paper out loud and then closing my eyes as I repeated the coordinates. "Do you see anything?" He asked, "No nothing." I continued repeating the coordinates out loud to myself. I could hear him walking in the room but I wasn't sure where he was going or what he was doing. I kept my eyes closed soon feeling two arms wrap themselves around my waist. I tried staying focused on the mission and finding our target.

"Relax and focus on looking for the guy." He placed his head on my shoulder and pressed my body closer to his. I didn't mind it this time. My leader was showing affection to me and I'd never had a hug from anyone before. "I found him."

"Good, go for the kill." His voice sounding menacing, I quickly went for the kill and beheaded the man. "It's done.." I called back my stand and looked over at Risotto. "Good job." He said he let go of me. "Was it necessary to hug me while I was looking for his location?" I asked. Risotto shrugged, "It wasn't, just wanted to see how you would react."

I sighed and looked down, "Can... Can I have another hug?" I didn't want to look at his face, but the next thing I knew he had arms wrapped around me. I closed my eyes and could feel myself melting in his embrace. I'm just glad that Risotto's the only one that gets to see me in this way.

Request for One-shot are open!

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