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wri0thesley · 11 months

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disciplinarian - prosciutto x reader (3k)

you have made a mess of things - and prosciutto is not going to let that pass without punishment.

cw: yandere prosciutto. dubious-consent/non-consent (reader is well on the way to stockholm syndrome if not already there). afab reader referred to as 'spouse', no other gendered terms used. captive reader. spanking, exhibitionism, allusions to prosciutto using his stand on reader in the past. use of pet names, use of 'slut'. minors dni, not sfw.

[a/n: a fic in which a random number generator was allowed to choose some of my favourite kinks and characters for a little birthday event i did for myself! this one threw up 'prosciutto', 'impact play' and 'yandere!' it's been a while since i published jojo but oh, i could never forget about my love for One Old Man Mafioso!]

It’s your own fault.

You stare at the ruined dinner and feel your breath start to come in short little pants; a tell-tale sign that you’re about to panic. About to start crying. You should have checked on it more often! You should have double-checked all of the temperatures, stayed in the kitchen instead of going into Prosciutto’s study to read and imagine you were somewhere else--

The front door swings open. Prosciutto’s voice, warmth seeping from every syllable, calls out into the hallway;

“Tesoro? I’m home.”

That warmth will quickly dissipate when he sees what you’ve done. Even now, as he calls out your name once more, you can hear a mounting frustration; Prosciutto likes you to be ready to rush up to him when he comes home from work, peppering his cheek with kisses and chirping questions about his day, every inch the adoring little house spouse that he has mercilessly drilled you into becoming. You ought to be fussing over his jacket, stroking his cheek and telling him you missed him with heat in your cheeks - offering to fetch his slippers and a whisky for him to unwind with . . .

Instead, you are in the kitchen in front of ruined dinner, your apron a mess and tears rolling down your face as you face the facts; Prosciutto is not going to be happy with you.

“There you are.” The mafioso’s voice has a sharp edge to it as a shadow falls across the doorway. You start guiltily, trying to hide the tray of burnt food from his ice blue gaze, but there’s no real escape from a man like Prosciutto. You know he’s seen it the moment that his elegant lip curls and his eyes flicker back to you. “ . . . Really. Is this how you greet your husband, amore mio?”

You want to bite back at him that he is no husband of yours - that it is hardly husbandly of him to have snatched you from your life and installed you into his like you are an asset to be owned and bossed about, a caricature of what a traditional man would expect from a spouse. It is hardly husbandly of him to have taught you to cook and clean and serve him by belt and by threat and by the strange power that he possesses that you hope never to experience again--

(You can still remember it, at night, when Prosciutto is still on a mission and you are alone - how it had felt to have your bones age and crack all rapidly at once, your skin sag from your frame, your heart to suddenly have years and years of use and wear piled upon it in what felt like moments. You never want to feel it again. You’d promised him, afterwards, tears still drying on your face, that you would be good from then on in.)

“I’m sorry,” your words all come out in a rush. “I-I didn’t mean to, Prosciutto. Amore. I--I just got distracted, it burnt, I’ll cook it all again--”

His expensive shoes (gotten for a bargain, or so he claimed, though you know that half of the boutiques in the city cower when he steps into them and rush to offer him staff discounts and anything he desires) squeak on the tiled kitchen floor as he steps closer to you. You force yourself to breathe.

“And waste another day’s worth of ingredients?” He asks you, calmly. “Do you think I am made of money, amore mio?” The pet names are a deliberate choice - they serve only to make you even more frightened. He casts his eye over the spread again. “It’s good for nothing but the trash now. Tell me--” And then your chin is being grasped by hands that have murdered and killed and God knows what else. “What did my pretty little tesoro have to occupy their mind that was more important than being good and taking care of their husband, hmm?”

Your voice cracks.

“I-I’m sorry--”

“Not good enough,” he says, his voice still calm. Prosciutto is cool and calculated in all he does; he does not shout and rage at you. His quiet seething, his way of keeping his handsome face a visage of serenity even when he is doing depraved things, is far more frightening than anything else. “Come. Leave the food for later. I think you need a reminder of your place.”

Your breath catches. You know what he means by this, and as if your body is already protesting the coming punishment, you feel last week’s almost-healed bruises on your buttocks sting. And, too - because Prosciutto has trained you to be that way - you feel a heat low in your abdomen, a clenching of the part of you between your thighs that Prosciutto equally adores to torment.

Prosciutto senses your hesitation and clicks his tongue at you, motioning towards the upstairs of the little home you two share (some holdover from his family connections, though it is not quite as well-maintained as it ought to be).

“I’ll give you five more strikes for every moment you dawdle,” he says, and he gives you a smile not without a hint of his teeth. When you had first met Prosciutto, you had thought his overbite and the gap between his teeth handsome - now, you wonder if they are on display so often if only to warn you that this is a man who will bite if he is threatened.

You pass by him - and on cue, one of Prosciutto’s hands comes down and squeezes your ass as you walk, his hands strong, fingers digging hard into the plush of your rear. You whimper, and Prosciutto lets out a hiss of pleased breath through his teeth.

“So soft,” he murmurs to you, slapping you on the rear now as if he is urging you to move faster. “Mm . . . as much of a shame as it is to punish you, tesoro, you’re such a very lovely canvas for the discipline.”

Despite your will, the compliment makes your insides clench once more. Heat gathering between your thighs in hot little shocks - there’s something about the clipped way that Prosciutto speaks that makes you want to get on your knees and do exactly as he says, even if you do hate him. Even if you do wish you were somebody else, somewhere else, away from here.

(Hate is a difficult thing; you hate Prosciutto. You hate what he has done to you. But his fingers are clever and his mouth is tender and the frissons of danger being his give you are more of a lure than you’d like to admit. Even if you could escape, sometimes you fear that you are so thoroughly under his spell that you would miss him).

He chuckles as if he can tell what you are thinking - his hands rest upon your hips as you walk, guiding you upstairs, the movement at once gentlemanly and possessive. Those are two things that the mafioso excels in.

Prosciutto’s bedroom.

He leaves you standing in the middle of the floor as he slowly, leisurely, crosses the room to sit upon the bed. You stand there for him, tension brewing, even as Prosciutto lets out a slow sigh and removes his ascot with elegant fingers. As he unbuttons his jacket and shrugs it off shoulders, showing the sculpted muscles of his scarred chest. You barely stop yourself from trembling.

When the jacket is shed, he rests back upon the heels of his hands and looks at you with that handsome, disaffected air - mouth parted, eyes half-lidded. His command is simple.

“Strip, and then come here and bend over.”

Prosciutto likes you to look the part of his little spouse. You wear clothes that are well-made and prim and a little old-fashioned, with fiddly little buttons and awkward zippers that you sometimes need his help to get into in a morning. He offers you no such help now, as your fingers slip on the buttons and you miss the catch of the zipper three times from your clammy palms. He breathes out through his nose in a flare of irritation, and you make a squeal of apology as you finally manage to shed the last layer of your clothes and you stand before him in nothing but your underwear, white satin patterned with deep red roses that Prosciutto had picked out for you. He looks at you in satisfaction, noting the damp patch at your gusset.

“My underwear too, amore?” He likes it when you use pet names for him - when you call him ‘my love’ or ‘my soul’ or ‘husband’. He likes ‘Signore’, too, but he prefers that when the two of you are playing one of his favoured little roleplay games. Right now, he is a husband disciplining a wayward spouse, and he wouldn’t react well to it. You hope the little term of endearment softens him.

“Just the top,” he decides, and you obediently reach behind yourself and unclip it with only a little difficulty. You feel your cheeks heat as Prosciutto looks at how your chest is released from the satiny cups, but manage to keep your composure. “Ah. How lucky I am to have such a pretty spouse, hmm?” He reaches forward, pinching one of your nipples roughly. A soft noise of surprise falls from your lips as he continues to pinch, twisting it just enough for it to edge the line between pleasure and pain, forcing the bud to pucker and stiffen beneath his ministrations. He repeats the process with the other, making you press your thighs unconsciously together. “Maybe I should use a cane on these, one of these days.”

“N-no, please,” you breathe out, but you’re already losing track of the thought of anything but Prosciutto’s fingers upon you. He chuckles, tugging at your nipples again.

“Maybe some pretty jewelry, then?” He suggests. “One of my associates is very skilled with metals--”

You whine as he pinches just a touch too hard, and, satisfied, he lets go of the sensitive buds - stiff and already aching from a mixture of fear and arousal and the pressure he had exerted.

“Very well,” he says in amusement. “Come bend over my lap and let me give you your punishment.”

You have no other choice, really - you arrange yourself exactly the way you know Prosciutto likes you, bent over his lap, your ass in the air. Your sore nipples uncomfortably rub against his slacks and the bedspread, and you know that they will chafe between both as you move with every hit of his hand or his belt or the hairbrush, chest swaying with the pressure--

His hand rests lightly on the curve of your ass.

“You’ve been well-behaved other than today,” he muses aloud, rubbing warm circles onto the heated skin. The touch of his calloused palms on your soft ass sends more little electric shocks to that place between your thighs, satin sticking to the folds of your cunt. “Just my hand, hmm?”

“Thank you, amore,” you say, automatically. For his mercy. He chuckles, rubs his thumb over the seam of your ass through the underwear and stops just before your sex.

“No more than you deserve,” he says. “You’ll count, yes?”

You nod, and Prosciutto seems satisfied enough with that. You hear the sound of his hand pulling back - the displacement of air as it whooshes back towards your ass, and then the calloused meat of his palm collides with your bare flesh. You cry out in surprise at the feeling, despite knowing it was coming.

“One!” You say. “Th-thank you!”

He pauses, hand still upon your ass. Heat radiates from the spot he has just touched, like waves lapping upon a shore.

“Thank you, what?” He asks, his voice dangerous - and you know it is a test. You take a great shuddering breath.

“Thank you, carissimo--?”

You hope you have made the right choice - that the pet name will soften him and soothe him and remind him that he is your husband and you adore him (or, at least, you do because you know what is good for you). The question hangs in the air for a moment that feels like it lasts for an eternity, before Prosciutto lets out a grunt of pleasure.

“You’re welcome. Don’t forget next time.”

So you don’t.

You do not forget to count or to thank Prosciutto or to call him all of the sweet things you can think of; thank you carissimo, thank you caro, thank you amore, thank you mio re, mio amato--

And Prosciutto’s blows do not stop coming, each one slower and more lingering than the last. Palm slapping against your rear and thighs until you are all over sore, fingers digging into tenderised flesh, Prosciutto’s hand taking delight in the way you whimper and whine and your voice goes high and reedy as you reach seventeen, eighteen, nineteen . . .

At twenty, he leaves his hand upon your ass for a beat longer. Luxuriously and slowly slides it down, further than he had before - and laughs a little meanly as his fingers dip between your thighs, feeling just how wet your underwear is.

“Oh, amore,” He breathes, in that damnably low and seductive voice. “You like being punished, don’t you?”

There is no real argument to what he’s saying. With every hit of his hand, you had felt those sparks and shocks that had resonated all through your body and landed squarely in your cunt, between your legs. With every number that had fallen from your mouth, you had felt yourself pump out more slick, until the satin was utterly saturated and it was a wonder you were not dripping all over the floor.

“You’ve made a mess,” Prosciutto breathes against your ear. “Mm . . . I’m going to have to replace this nice lingerie. Do you know how much it cost?”

“. . . I . . .’m sorry--”

“Oh,” another chuckle. “Don’t be. It’s nice to know what a little slut my pretty spouse is.”

“I’m not. . .”

“Ah. So you’re not desperate for me to do this?” He slowly, deliberately, presses his fingers against the seam of your sex, rubbing it through the satin. Against your will, a whine falls from your mouth - the pressure is perfect, his fingers so good against your heated core. “You’re not moaning like a bitch in heat?”

“Prosciutto . . .”

“You’re a very lucky little slut, at least.” Prosciutto’s fingers begin to rhythmically slide backwards and forwards, over your cunt - you whimper as he finds your clit, rubbing the satin against the swollen little nub in a way that makes you squirm and hot tears spring to your eyes. “I don’t mind that you’ve gotten off to me punishing you. In fact . . .”

He doesn’t bother to go beneath the fabric - just finds your clit, swollen and stiff through satin as thin as spider silk, and begins a rough, mean assault on it that has you gasping and panting.

“I’ll even help you along.”

It’s too much. It’s all too much. The position - blood rushing to your head. The way that your ass aches and stings from his discipline, the way he’s practically trained you to get turned on by being hurt, the confusion that you feel about all of this . . . Sometimes you want nothing more than to be the thoughtless little whore of a spouse he wants you to be. Things would be so much easier, wouldn’t they?

Your breath comes in short sharp pants as Prosciutto increases his speed, roughly circling your clit. You squirm hotly as the pressure follows suit. All of the feelings inside of you - the confusion and the heat and the arousal and the hate and everything else - all tangle together in your mind like old embroidery threads, a mess impossible to unravel--

Until they do. The threads are all suddenly pulled apart in different directions, and your insides explode in an orgasm that is partly pleasure and partly pain. Prosciutto’s fingers do not slow, hot hard circles that guide you over yet more hills and more peaks. You don’t know if it’s good or if it’s overwhelming, all of the sensations creeping up on you at once like ivy overtaking an old house. You sob out a dry, whimpering noise that makes Prosciutto sigh.

He slows his fingers as the last ebbs and flows of your peak flow from your thighs to your feet to your fingertips and out of your body and lets you lay there limply upon him, breathing hard.

You are suddenly aware of every part of your body.

Your underwear clings wetly and uncomfortably to your folds, the gusset utterly soaked from the painful orgasm that Prosciutto had wrung from you. Tear tracks are drying on your face, your ass aching from every spank of Prosciutto’s hand. Your nipples ache from how they had rubbed against the fabric of Prosciutto’s slacks with every body-shaking hit you had taken.

“There,” Prosciutto says, pushing you off of him so you land in an ungainly sniffling heap on the floor. Beads of your arousal and release are streaming down your inner thighs. He acts as though what he’s done has had no effect upon him, though the stiff tent of his erection tells a different story. You will get that particular part of your punishment later, caged underneath the unending snap of his hips and snarl of his voice about what a good little thing you are, taking your husband’s cock like you were made to do. “Now. I think it’s dinner time, don’t you?”

You sniffle again and look up at him with beseeching eyes.

“I-- I burnt dinner--”

“Well,” he says. “I suppose you’ll have to make it all again, won’t you?”

It’s almost a pardon. You nod frantically at him, and go to reach for your abandoned brassiere, your other clothes - only for Prosciutto to stand up and bring one well-heeled foot right down upon the pile of fabric.

“I don’t think you deserve those, tesoro. Do you?”

“B-but . . . the window--”

He looks down at you with a glint in those deep blue eyes, a devilish smirk playing about his lips.

“You should have thought about that before you made such a mess of things.” His eyes slide over your figure - your bare chest, your rapidly bruising thighs and ass, the thin and soaked excuse for underwear you’re currently wearing - and he sighs in satisfaction. “Don’t you dare close the curtains, amore mio. Maybe this will be another lesson for you.”

#prosciutto x reader #prosciutto smut #jjba x reader #jjba smut #yandere jjba #yandere prosciutto #writing #not sfw text #yandere for ts #dub con for ts #non con for ts #jojo postin

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shineonyoucrazyyandere · 3 months

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May I please for a scenario or headcanons for poly La Squadra including Sorlato with fem darling who knows about their interest towards her and her saying this:

"I know your interest in me, and I'm willing to return those feelings if you let me continue working in my doll shop and you guys work there. Also, I know your original paychecks sucks, so we all get what we want."

Cool, extra hands to help out? Seems like a good bargain, on the surface, there’s no take backs once you say “yes” and being Yandere they will test their dearests mettle to the limits.

Yandere! La Squadra w/ doll shop owner darling

So whether you repair, sell, make dolls, they’re all ready to help. Which depending on the options could be quite chaotic. There will be times they absolutely make you uncomfortable.

Formaggio probably makes comments of how this is rather a bit girly for him and he’d rather just hang around you, Illuso makes a jab at his statement in which these two have a little back and forth. They don’t really end up fighting but there’s a little intensity you can feel.

He then keeps coming up to you for the smallest of tasks or takes forever on certain bits that should be child’s play. It’s absolutely on purpose and almost impossible to get him off your back.

He also mentions you’re so sweet for paying them. That it’s a good thing that he’s there with the others, otherwise you could get taken advantage of. He’s only allowed to do that, and you can feel the irony of his statement thick in the air.

Sewing/clothing repair is interestingly enough right up Pesci’s alley. He’s worked with fishing line and other thin wires so learning isn’t hard when you teach him. Which you likely praise him for how quickly he’s picked things up.

If you compliment him he gets rather shaky, you swear you see some blush to his cheeks, and Prosciutto scolds him to at least try and keep his composure. His heart flys to the moon if you think his nervousness is cute.

Prosciutto is sort of beaming with pride, but at the same time insists having some time with you himself. There might be a lingering amount of jealousy he had for Pesci’s praise coming from you, but he puts that aside and decides he needs to step up his game.

He gets all professional with you and staring at your stitch work, he’ll immediately help you with any snag/mistake you might’ve made. There’s a point he might even guide your own hands if he sees the need.

He absolutely makes sure you can feel him beside you, and is memorizing every type of fabric you use, the measurements, and accessories. Is he much too close to one side of your ear? That’s a yes. He’ll even tell you it’s absolutely necessary, somehow batting off your concerns as if they’re excuses.

Sorbet and Gelato are an interesting pair that love keeping each other company whenever they can dip out. It feels like they’re unproductive in their work, but by the time you’re closing every little thing you asked them to do is done. It seems they’re rather great at keeping your dolls clean honestly. This does come at a personal cost, if no one else is cornering you Sorbet and Gelato will absolutely be there. Gelato seems to recommend certain dolls be rearranged in a certain way. A couple of them are plucked and the money is all in the register. Sorbet on the other hand seems to be great at seeing which ones have massive value if you received a donation or sale. Telling you them to lock them behind glass, the two of them seem to joke about locking you beind a cute glass display. The way they say it seemingly romantically doesn’t feel like a joke however.

Melone does very well with making sure all of your money is accounted for, somehow he knows all your expenses and other things he probably shouldn’t know about you.

If you’re working in the back and he comes into help with a little dusting or cleaning. He will make pretty suggestive comments about you, and suggests some of the outfits the dolls have would be adorable. If you distract him with something such as horoscopes, he immediately explains every little thing about each sign. How you two positively match and were meant to be. Can end up being rather overwhelming.

He does end up having good suggestions on what people seem to gravitate towards. Which of course he tells you this in great detail.

No matter what job he’s put in he almost always manages to be creepy someway, so you’re likely to have him somewhere out of sight out of mind. He doesn’t consider this a punishment in the slightest, and will certainly take advantage with flirting with you behind the scenes. Having him in front of customers is a big no-no however.

Ghiaccio is another handful of his own, he gets sets off pretty easily so you have to figure out a decent way for him to work on something. He does tend to grab your hand occasionally and gently pull you over to him without warning. (Except around risotto).

He does get very agitated if a customer tries to disrespect you. They may not ever come back if he gets their hands on them.

Insists on having you within his eyesight almost constantly, or at least having you around with whatever task you’re having him do.

You do have to coach him out of his jealousy rages or getting aggravated at another member occasionally. Usually you end up making him some type of tea, he indeed relishes this.

Illuso is likely to be the best at being at the front (aside from yourself or prosciutto). He rather enjoys that you don’t mind him “hogging” the position. It gives him an easy way to be almost constantly in your presence.

He’s thorough on whatever you task him with, he wouldn’t be an assassin if he wasn’t capable after all. He’s so thorough he takes advantage and insists to help you himself. Does his best to make you flustered at any given point in the day.

He definitely stalks you and will chillingly mention a show you liked on tv the night before. Unironically engaging in said show’s contents, all while reveling in your conflicting expressions. He’ll fluster you even more if given the chance, up to the point he’s pulled away to do something else.

Risotto is his another enigma with his obsessiveness, he insists on doing everything during closing hours. Taking inventory/stocking, some of your business side paperwork is done even though you didn’t ask him to. He seems normal on the outside but there’s this aura about him that inwardly sets you off. Like he never wants you to leave his sight.

Any troublesome things occurring outside your business (and your home if it’s not right by) cease. He absolutely follows you home every night and early morning when possible. You’ll never see him however, he makes sure of that. He keeps his team in line when need be, but ironically that means you as well.

He wants you comfortable but he’s not afraid of going right to the edge of insanity to keep you around. He’ll certainly coordinate with other members of the team. He considers your “yes” a contract of approval and will do what he sees fit to keep you around. If that means going to the lengths of threatening others so be it. But he and the others already agreed upon this regardless of how you felt about them.

There are dozens of times he just seems to pop out of nowhere on you. He doesn’t seem to have issue with this in the slightest, if you need your hand held from nearly having a heart attack he’s there to oblige.

Just before he goes out on a mission, he always leaves a favorite food of yours (packaged preferably) on your desk.

If you wonder how he got in without giving him with a key, he likely used Metallica to figure out the shape of the keyhole of your locks.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere jjba #yandere imagines #yandere jjba imagines #yandere jjba x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere formaggio #yandere prosciutto #yandere illuso #yandere pesci #yandere ghiaccio #yandere sorbet and gelato #yandere risotto nero #yandere risotto #yandere melone #Yandere formaggio

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princelylove · 20 days

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An assortment of unita esecuzioni headcannons, ranging from body types to group dynamics.

For the apartment itself: The boss has cameras everywhere. Most of the unit ignores them, but Prosciutto thinks it’s fun to flirt every time he sees one (if he doesn’t get pissed off and shoot it, or smash it. He’s moody. Boss has yet to comment on that, but they keep coming back, so).

They have a cat. Technically Formaggio’s cat, but he lives here, so it’s the “family” cat. She has no name, as Formaggio forgot to name her in the first place, so everyone calls her something different. Prosciutto doesn’t like her much, and will sit on the kitchen countertop to avoid her attempts at petting him. Risotto really likes her, but the cat doesn’t come by his office often.

They have family game night and tend to deal Boss in. The boss doesn’t communicate with anyone other than Risotto directly, he’s not actually playing, it’s so they can cheat and blame him if they get caught. The only person that doesn’t cheat is Pesci.

They have a running joke that absolutely everything is caused by the boss. Fridge breaks? Boss. Door won’t lock? Boss. Drop a plate and it’s clearly your fault? Boss. Girlfriend dumped you because you cheated on her? Boss, for sure. They won’t mention the fact that Boss is ‘stalking’ them (is it stalking if you’re aware, and it’s more for security purposes?) until you misbehave. Some are only teasing, but the boss could kill you off if he felt like it.

It’s actually a valid excuse, as the boss turns their power off if they don’t meet quotas. In the winter, Prosciutto lets his stand loose to bring some heat in. He has less control over who ages/what is affected in his youth, but by the time canon happens, it’s safe to let Grateful Dead free roam without any major consequences. He pretends like he cannot control it when one of the younger members annoys him. Ooops, go get some ice, brat.

Nobody wants to bite the bullet and cuddle up to Ghiaccio in the summer, but he does make the apartment more inhabitable.

They eventually rebel because of the very intentional threats to their quality of life.

Risotto is a sizable man, he stands at about 203 cm, or 6’8”. He doesn’t have a lot of body fat, the man works like a dog. He barely has any waist, and his torso is absurdly defined- you’d think his choice in clothing is to show that off, but it’s actually functional. That’s what he says, anyway. It’s fine if you want to check him out.

He has fairly thick thighs that are just as toned as the rest of his body. His arms are sizable as well- it’s a shame he rarely shows them off. He genuinely prefers long sleeves, and perfectly fitting clothing, if not a little tight. He likes the pressure. Risotto usually wears more modest tops when he’s just running an errand.

Risotto’s hands are very neglected, besides from his nails. He keeps them short. His hands are proportionate to the rest of his body, so they look normal, but it’s clear when he holds everyday objects that he’s sizable. He likes the expression you make when you realize it- the pressure of him wrapped around you at night always reminds you how ridiculous it is to forget in the first place.

Ris has a habit of following things with his eyes rather than moving his head or body. He can stay perfectly still for hours at a time. He rarely fidgets, and barely looks like he’s breathing. He isn’t very expressive, the most you’ll get is a small sigh or a brief glance at something else.

He knows the pattern of everyone’s footsteps, and will often make small comments about what’s going on outside his office-room to ease your worries. He thinks of you like an animal that was just ‘rescued’ and needs an adjustment period.

“Prosciutto’s home.” or “Melone’s back.” are common, but if he’s worried you’re frightened of them, he’ll go into more detail.

“Those thuds are just Formaggio. We let him hang that hoop up in the living room.” or “Those bumps are Melone and Formaggio. They’re just playing.” He means play wrestling.

The bells on his hat are real. It’s a way for him to stay focused. Don’t let the bells ring, no matter what. Risotto is very heavy on self-discipline and hypervigilance, as long as he can keep the bells from jingling, he’s alright. Even when he isn’t wearing his hat, you’ve likely never heard it jingle jingle on his desk.

Italian isn’t his native language, and neither is English. Sometimes he’ll pause for a few seconds after you ask him a question. He generally speaks slowly and softly, with a blunt nature. Long sentences aren’t common, even when he’s nervous. The most long-winded Risotto will ever be is through writing- handwritten, scribbled notes about his feelings and expectations for you now that you’re Home.

He’s very anxious about nothing in particular. The psychological warfare from Boss is working. He’s like a big dog that’s too shy to move a small cat out of his bed- even though he owns the bed, and brought the cat home.

Risotto is very talkative during sex, but it’s mainly nonsensical. Does repeating “I love you” really count?

Prosciutto and Bruno have similar silhouettes, but Prosciutto has a bit more hips than Bruno does, and a little less height. Prosciutto’s muscle is from a dedicated routine and healthy lifestyle, he is considerably less bulky than Bruno, but the hourglass is very there. Perhaps the only similarity is the hourglass, long legs, and taste in work clothes.

A very long time ago, I saw someone headcanon Prosciutto as a model, and it changed my perception of him entirely. I saw the light. He’s bitter because he works two jobs, and has to come ‘home’ (He’d kill himself if anybody heard him say Risotto’s apartment was home) and babysit these brats that most definitely should know how to fucking cook by now- aren’t you in your twenties? Be a man about it, Jesus Christ. He’s not even that much older than the rest of them, yet he’s stuck playing mom.

Prosciutto’s rather proud of his waist-to-hip difference, and will let it get to his head if you stare. Of course you’re staring, you’ve probably seen him walk for a brand you’ll never be able to afford. He works hard to stay “perfect,” and absolutely refuses to sell himself out. No free pictures, no free autographs, and no, he won’t do a shoot for you. He may sit still for you to draw him, though.

He’s heavier than he looks. Go ahead, try and pick him up. Prosciutto has the type of muscle that can comfortably lift Risotto, put him on his hip, and walk, but not for a long while. He looks rather light, but he can hold his own just fine. Prosciutto’s fairly strong, as you would have to be to support an entire grown man’s weight, and he loves to show off.

I should clarify, Prosciutto is a runway model. He absolutely hates photoshoots- mainly because the cameras remind him of what he has to deal with at ‘home.’ He may be working still, but just basking in the attention and praise is relaxing, so he tends to be in a really good mood while he’s walking and right after. (Author’s note: fem pro would walk for Mugler.)

His attitude in general is a bit diva-ish. Prosciutto’s got a horrible temper- he’s only happy when he’s being given special attention and luxury gifts, but he’s not going to tell you that because it’s emasculating to go ‘ohhh I want a little present with a bow on ittt can you do that for me?’He’ll drop plenty of hints, though.

Prosciutto has a complex with age- he treats everyone younger like they’re babies and he’s in charge, and everyone older like they should be way better at what they’re doing for their age. He lets his younger teammates get away with a bit more because they’re young, they’re still learning, watch how he does things, but that doesn’t mean he’s gentle about it. (Another author’s note: Risotto, Sorbet, Gelato, and the boss are all older. Pesci, Ghiaccio, Formaggio, and Melone are all younger. Him and Illuso are the same age.)

Prosciutto has no physical ‘flaws,’ no birthmarks/beauty marks, no tattoos, and perfect skin. He could cheat with his stand, as he can go forward and back, but he doesn’t. His ego would never allow it. Don’t ask about his routine, he’d never share.

He’s blond, has light beige skin, and a horribly condescending nature. Almost perfectly stereotypically french. Prosciutto doesn’t like talking about where he came from before ‘all this’ happened, but when he speaks english, you can probably figure it out. His accent isn’t as obvious in italian- he speaks a good few languages, and will play translator when asked, if you kiss his ass.

He smells like vanilla tobacco, and expensive soap. There’s also a bit of cigar lingering on him.

#yandere la squadra #yandere prosciutto #yandere risotto nero #part two coming soonish

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anya-nya-nya · 1 month

Text

Using their stand to stop you from running away.

Contains: Risotto, Formaggio, Prosciutto, Ghiacco

TW yandere behavior, abuse (both physical and mental), kidnapping, mention of Stockholm syndrome, non-con/dub-con, please contact me if you think I missed something!

Risotto

Risotto is a sadist. A cruel one. The fact that you keep trying to run away after All those things he did with your body is both surpassing and annoying. So if you're not impressed by these strikes on your body, or these marks after rough sex doesn't hurt that much then he would give you a better reason to be scared of.

Being able to manipulate iron in your blood, he would make you fall on your knees from sudden dizziness right at the moment when you would have thought the escape was near. Your trembling hand is still on the doorknob as you try your hardest to stop coughing blood while Risotto's just standing here, observing. Will not push things to the point where you would gain some fathal repercussions, but definitely will repeat this several times. Seeing you more like a pet, not like an equivalent partner, Risotto would love to repeat Pavlov's dogs experiment and make you feel sick and scared everytime you walk past the exit door even when he's not torturing you.

Well, you actually have a good potential, so there's already too many plans in his head about how else he can train you now. Would love to actually develop Stockholm syndrome in you. Like yeah, the way your brows twitched as a scare gleam in your eyes is turning him on, but Risotto still prefers to see more joy on your face when towering over you with his huge frame.

Formaggio

Nah cause there's no way you would escape Formaggio. He loves to torture you and make you feel powerless so every time he need to leave the house he would use his stand to lock you somewhere. If you're still bratty, it would be just a dirty bottle, if you're already learnt to be obedient then maybe he will reward you with something more fancy. Maybe with some dollhouse or something, so his little darling has some fun when he's at work.

Yet if you still would try to run away then he doesn't mind to use you as a way to de-stress. Would immobilize you with some pen or something then increase and decrease the pressure while teasing you. Have a fear of bugs? Would use it against you just to see how loud your high-pitched sobs would be. Formaggio actually can be pretty creative with his games so it's just a matter of time when he will break your mind or your limbs - or maybe all at once.

Prosciutto

Prosciutto is a busy man who wouldn't even try to start with something less cruel as a punishment. Of course if you only misbehave he would just berate you or be a little more rough with his grasp on your body, but as soon as you get caught on running away he will use his ability.

So come on, try to escape now when your legs are so weak and your whole body suddenly gets so old and slow. All this time he would sit near, teasing and commenting on every move, threatening you that even if you run away now he'll not unuse his ability back, making sure you're old enough to die in a few days. So the closer you're to the door, the older he will make you be, till you will stop or literally just fall on your knees from feeling too sick. And even after that he will not transform you back immediately, wanting for you to suffer a little bit more in this powerless state.

But don't you worry! With each attempt Prosciutto learns a little more about how to take care of you when you both will age up cause there's no way he would let you go till death will do you two apart.

Ghiacco

Ghiaccio is literally a psycho. You can try to throw a tantrum but he would immediately hit you with an even bigger tantrum, it's like fighting fire with fire. Or ice with ice in his case.

Would quickly get in rampage and just freeze EVERYTHING - the door, all windows, the fucking attic for some reason and all other places and holes you can escape through. Also will freeze your feet to the floor to the point you'll actually get scared you will lose both of your legs if he's not get hold of himself soon. And no, even if you will say sorry he will not stop, screaming and throwing everything everywhere while insulting you in every possible way. It would take some time and A LOT of begging before he will calm down and release you, but don't hope he's completely calmed down. There's literally no moment in Ghiaccio's life when he's completely chill and unbothered, so you'll listen about just what a cunt you're to the end of the day.

And don't hope that later this evening in the bed he will be just rough as usual - he's still mad and still sure this freezing was not enough as a punishment. And don't you dare disobey him again, he's not afraid to leave a few frostbites on your body again if it means he can finally position you and then use as he wants without being pushed away.

#i wanna add Melone too but still thinking very hard about how he can use his abilities..#yandere jjba #yandere jjba part 5 #yandere risotto nero #.risotto #yandere formaggio #.formaggio #yandere prosciutto #.prosciutto #yandere ghiacco #.ghiacco

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return-of-a-space-cowboy · 1 year

Note

Fairytale prompt 7 please with Prosciutto. A Cinderella tale where darling just wants to spend the night away from their family and unknowingly bumps into prince Prosciutto

Finally I finished it... nearly 7000 words 💀

This was actually quite enjoyable to write.

The hazelnut tree

(Yandere Prosciutto X Female Reader)

Like every day before you scrubbed the stone floors, Subjected to a maid's duty. Unfortunately, you had no choice, when your father died the estate was left to your cruel stepmother who left you with only two options: serve as a maid or leave with nothing. So for the past decade, you had spent cooking and cleaning. Slowly trying to salvage valuables and small sums of money to lead to an eventual escape.

You flinched as you heard a knock on the door. You quickly got up and ran to the door. Opening it revealed a finely dressed delivery man.

"Hello, what brings you here today?" You asked.

"I have come with invitations from the Royal family, all the ladies of the kingdom are requested to attend a three-night soiree so that the prince may find a bride" he explained as he searched through a velvet satchel.

"Residents?" He asked you.

"(L/n)" you replied. It took the man a while but he eventually pulled out three envelopes before he bid you farewell. You closed the door and placed them on the nearby table before returning to your work.

Time passed with the only sound being that of the brush you were scrubbing with. After you had finished you emptied the remaining water in the garden before going back inside and sitting on the lounge to rest your aching body but of course, luck was not on your side as the door opened and your stepmother and sisters entered.

"Slacking off as usual?" Your stepmother asked in an accusatory tone.

"I just finished scrubbing the floors…" you sighed before pointing to the table. You would have gotten up but you were far too sore to do anything, even though you knew that not doing so would result in no dinner.

"A delivery man arrived with invitations to a royal ball today" you explained and your step sisters' eyes lit up with excitement as they rushed to the table and picked the letters up and tore the envelope straight off. They could barely contain their excitement as they read through it.

"Mother, the prince will be choosing a bride at the ball!" One of them squealed.

"Prince Prosciutto… to marry him would be a blessing" the other swooned. You had heard them talk about the prince before. They would sometimes see him in the town and would return talking to each other for what seemed like hours. His light blonde hair that was always finely styled, and his fair, porcelain skin was. His eyes that were an icy blue. They fancied him a fair bit.

They put down the letters before noticing the third.

"What? (Y/N) got an invitation?!" One of them scoffed which caught your stepmother's attention. You leaned forward a bit. Shocked to hear that you had received an invitation.

"Now why would a lowly maid like her be invited?" She asked.

"The delivery man told me all women of the kingdom are invited" you replied. She shot daggers at you with her piercing glare.

"What a waste of the Prince's time, why would he want to associate with peasants? Surely there are enough noble women for at least one to catch his attention. So why throw those filthy, lowly creatures into the mix" she sneered before grabbing the letter and ripping it.

You tried to remain unfazed but deep down it hurt. To be considered less than human, to have your right to three nights to experience something you had dreamt about since you were a child to be torn to pieces.

That night you hadn't expected to cry into the sack you called a pillow but you did. Despite everything they already put you through this felt like the worst. You wanted to leave now but you knew you were not yet prepared. You had to wait it out for at least another year if you wanted to get anywhere.

As the days went on all your step sisters could that about was the upcoming ball. The month was spent by them going out in search of the perfect attire. From their jewelry to their shoes they spared no expense in hopes the prince would choose them. Every now and then you asked your stepmother if she would let you attend in hopes she'd say yes but she refused every time until the night before the ball.

"Yes," she replied.

"Really?" You asked her.

"Of course sweet, dear (Y/n), but only if you are able to complete this list of tasks" she lulled in a sickeningly sweet tone before thrusting the list into your hands nearly causing you to fall. You read the list most were the regular chores while others were different. Like sorting lentils out of soot, counting every stone in the floor, and other seemingly impossible tasks. Yet you managed to work throughout the night and into the day, completing every task on that list.

You showed her all the work you had done. She seemed impressed and that gave you hope.

"That's great but you must be so tired from all that work and it seems you don't have a dress ready. I'm afraid I can't let you come" she feigned worry and her daughters laughed in response. It felt like a knife had been driven straight into your heart. You shouldn’t have had hope, of course, she'd never let anything good happen in your life.

You watched as they left before going to the backyard, sitting under the large hazelnut tree that had been planted atop your mother's grave. You hugged the tree as if she was there as you cried.

"All I wanted to do was attend the ball… I just wanted to know what it was like" you sobbed. You continued to cry for a while but when you finally got up you noticed something odd. A pair of heels made of glass had seemingly grown on the tree you pulled them off. Then you saw the most beautiful silver dress. You carefully removed the dress and brought the dress and shoes inside to try on and to your surprise, they fit you perfectly, as if they had been made for you. The glass heels were unusually comfortable, allowing you to step gracefully with ease as if you were barefoot.

Still, you wondered how you would make it to the ball. You stepped outside and your eyes widened in shock as you saw a stunning white carriage parked outside. You walked to the front where the carriage rider sat.

"Umm, sir could you tell me what's going on?" You asked. He turned to you and smiled.

"You're heading to the ball of course ma'am" he replied sweetly.

"There must be some mix up-" you tried to explain but he cut you off.

"No there is no mix-up, you wished to attend the ball so you shall. Now you should quickly hop in so you're not late" he said. You were confused, left with more questions than answers but you entered the carriage anyway.

'Wish?' You thought to yourself. Yes, it was your wish but how? Such things only happened in fairytales. you looked out the window to see the glow of the castle draw closer and your heart fluttered.

🏰🏰🏰

The carriage slowed and you could see the castle right in front. A velvet carpet was rolled out to invite all the guests. The carriage then stopped and the door was opened. You got out and looked in awe at everything, this didn't feel real. You took slow steps as you made your way to the doorway. This all must have been a dream, this was too good to be true.

Heads turned as you walked into the enormous ballroom. Whispers you couldn't make out reached your ears. It wasn't long before men lined up to ask you to dance with them and you accepted each one. Blissfully dancing the night away. Between breaks, the women complimented you including your step sisters who seemed clueless as to who you were.

Throughout all this The prince watched from afar, curious as to who the woman was now talking about. He tried to approach however you hurried out of the ball before he'd gotten a chance to speak to you, but he did not threaten as he knew you'd return tomorrow night.

You had hurried off to the carriage after seeing the time, knowing your step-relatives would be leaving soon you had to make it home, or else they would know.

When you arrived home. you returned the dress and shoes to the hazelnut tree and went straight to bed. Shortly you could hear the door open and the mutter of your step-relatives. Your step sisters talking about how beautiful the mysterious woman was and how they would need better outfits if they were to impress the prince while their mother tried to discredit the woman.

In the mornings your step sisters boasted about the ball and told you about the mystery woman but when trying to describe her they couldn't. They remember her but her features were hazy. Even your stepmother was perplexed by how she forgot the appearance of such a distinct person.

After that they left early to find another, better dress to wear and returned after noon to start getting ready while you continue with your chores. Once they left you made your way to the hazel tree to find the same glass heels and a golden dress that was even more beautiful than last night's dress. You put them on and got into the carriage once more.

Once again you conversed and danced but you couldn't help but be lured to one of the balconies by the cold breeze that flowed from them. You looked out to the garden, they were already so beautiful. You could only imagine how much more beautiful it looked during the day before a voice interrupted your thoughts.

"You look so beautiful in that dress, from which kingdom do you come from?" A soothing voice asked. You turned to see a fair-skinned man with icy blue eyes and well-kept blonde hair wearing a fine royal blue suit.

"Thank you, sir, I have lived in this kingdom my whole life" you replied which earned a slight chuckle from him.

"Well I have not seen such craftsmanship from here… and I would have assumed that someone from this kingdom would undoubtedly know the face of their Prince" he spoke.

You felt your heart stop for a second, you were embarrassed that you had spoken so lowly to him.

"I'm so sorry your majesty! It was rude of me to speak like that to you. I've not been outside of my family's property in many years" you apologized and explained as you bowed before him.

"I'll consider accepting your apology, but only if you'll accompany me tonight," he said with a smirk. You were flustered, why would the prince want you around him?

"I am so sorry your majesty but I am not worthy of such a privilege" you replied. Another chuckle passed his lips and he got closer.

"No, it would be a great privilege for me to be around you. Last night I had heard so many people speak so highly of you, I had tried to get my chance to dance with you last night but you had left before I had the opportunity to ask" he retorted.

You were shocked that the prince wanted to dance with you, as wonderful as it sounded you really didn't want that kind of attention. You wanted to refuse his proposal but you were afraid of what the consequences might be so you accepted.

You waltzed with him a lot longer than you had with any of the dance partners you had before. During the dance, he asked you question after question. You kept vague with your responses.

"You never told me your name" He stated.

For a few seconds, you remained silently debating on whether you should tell him or lie. You thought back to the morning and remembered how your step-relatives couldn't remember you last night. Perhaps the same would apply with your name.

"My name is (Y/n)" you told him.

"(Y/n) is such a lovely name… it suits you very well" he complimented you.

"Thank you" you replied before looking at the clock and seeing the time it was nearly twelve. You had to leave.

"Your majesty-" you tried to speak but he cut you off.

"You do not have to be so formal with me, just call me Prosciutto," he told you.

"Prosciutto It's getting late, I have to leave" you explained as you tried to pull away.

"But the ball isn't even close to finishing tonight, if you're worried about your family then I'll explain, just point out to them" he explained.

"No, I have to leave now!" You explained in a dire tone.

Prosciutto noticed your apparent stress and pulled you into an embrace.

"Whatever it is that's forcing you not to stay isn't important, if you have a problem just tell me… I'll make sure to solve it" he spoke in a sickly sweet tone with the slightest bit of poison as if he held contempt towards something, making a shiver go down your spine.

You could feel many eyes on you. You managed to escape his grip and make your way to the carriage and leave. You were shaken by what had just happened. Your heart was pounding rapidly.

When you finally arrived home you once again returned the clothes and got into bed just before your step relatives arrived home. They talked more about the lady at the ball. One of the stepsisters even mentioned that she overheard some of the conversations the prince had with her. Tell the other two that the lady's name was (Y/n) but never correlated it to you.

After the ball had ended the prince did not rest until he had a plan set to capture the woman who kept eluding him. He ordered tar and a spare carpet and informed the servants of the plan before finally resting in the late morning.

That morning you served breakfast to your step-relatives. They only talked about the woman again.

"What was her name again? You told us last night but I cannot remember" your stepmother asked one of her daughters.

"Her name was…" she tried to reply but paused for a few seconds.

"Well I actually can't remember either" she continued. From a distance, you sighed in relief.

🏰🏰🏰

In the evening you watched your step relatives leave again before sitting down. Tonight you intended to stay home after last night's ordeal. You didn't need any of that attention. Minutes passed before there was a knocking at the door. You opened it to see the carriage driver that had driven you to the ball the last two nights holding the glass heels and a dark blue dress with diamonds sewn into it, making it look like a starry night sky.

"You'll be late to the ball if you don't get ready now," he told you.

"I'm sorry but I don't want to go tonight" you replied.

"But it was your wish to attend," he retorted.

"Yes I know it was my wish to go and I did but I've had enough" you explained before closing the door. You took a step away from the door before hearing the familiar sound of the glass heels. You looked down to see you were in the dress.

"What?!" You exclaimed before opening the door again where the man still stood.

"I don't want to go, please" you begged the man.

"I'm sorry but I can't change anything, it's your wish and I must grant it" explained.

"Well now I wish to not go," you told him.

"That isn't how it works I'm afraid, the wish must be fulfilled," he told you as he gently took hold of your hand. Even though he used very little force, your body complied with his movements against your will. You stepped into the carriage and the door closed before it began to move. You sat thinking but couldn't wrap your head around this wish thing.

Once you had arrived you had reluctantly left the carriage and were instantly greeted by the prince.

"And I was starting to think you weren't going to show up," he said. You tried to speak but you couldn't.

"It was such a shame that you had left so soon last night, should we continue where we left off?" He asked. As he took your hand.

"No…" you muttered and the look in his eyes changed, you couldn't figure out what it meant but it put you on edge.

"Well we don't have to dance, perhaps we could just wander the garden away from all the guests" he suggested.

"That's a lovely offer but what if people get the wrong idea?" You replied.

"And what do you mean by the wrong idea?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"People will start thinking that there's something between us" you replied, earning a chuckle from the blonde.

"So let them, I don't care what they think," he said as pulled you to the garden.

Once again he asked you questions about your life and again you answered vaguely. Every once and a while he'd point out a plant or ornament that he was particularly fond of before you reached the back of the castle which was a small atrium area.

"I want to show you some friends of mine," he told you as he opened the door for you. You cautiously entered the atrium and you were greeted by the caws of a pair of crowd.

"Hubert, Francine calm down," he told the crows as he closed the door behind him. They quickly flew to a nearby branch less than a meter away from you.

"This is the closest I've been to a bird in my life," you said.

"Crows are very intelligent birds, once you feed them a few times they become very loyal creatures," he explained.

"I've trained them for quite some time, recently the duke of a nearby kingdom kept harassing me to marry his daughter for months on end and do you know how I got him to stop?" He continued.

"How?" You asked expecting him to tell you he had gotten them to harmlessly terrorize the Duke but what he did tell you made you feel sick to your stomach.

"I got them to peck his eyes out, he screamed like an absolute imbecile" he confessed.

"What?!" You exclaimed against your will. Why would the prince do something so horrible, he was supposed to be the future king.

"What, Are you afraid they'll hurt you? If so I can assure you they won't" he tried to reassure you.

"No… why would you subject someone to that in the first place?" you asked, absolutely mortified by how casual he was about it.

"Because he was wasting so much of my time, surely you must have some idea of what it's like?" he reasoned. At that moment you knew you had to leave.

"I should be heading home…" you said but he grabbed your wrist with a brutal force. At that moment he forgot his plan. He had to make his intentions known.

"And again like last night and the night before you want to leave early. Whatever it is you keep leaving for is not as important as right now" he hissed in almost a scolding manner.

"Once you're mine you won't need to worry at all. Everyone and thing will bend on your wim" he proclaimed.

"No!" You screamed as you tried to escape his grasp.

"No?" He asked you as he tightened his grip on your wrist, making you whimper.

"No, you're a horrible person!" you replied. You felt a painful pop in your wrist that caused you to fall to your knees.

"No, let go! You're going to break my hand!" You pleaded as tears escaped your eyes.

"You decide, either you comply or I will," he told you sternly. Without realizing it you had headbutt him right sternum causing him to let go of your wrist. You quickly took the advantage to run but he was quick to chase after you. You nearly ripped every door off offs hinges as you tried to escape.

You finally found the ballroom and with little care, you pushed past others.

"(Y/n!)" you heard Prosciutto's voice call out softly in comparison to how he was just a moment ago.

Once you had left the building you had tried running down the steps only to find tar had been slathered on the carpet, causing one of the glass heels to get stuck you turned around to see Prosciutto and his guards approaching so you got it off your foot and hurried down the rest of the stairs and into the carriage, only just managing to escape. Your heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to give out. When you arrived home you hurried to get rid of the heel and dress before going inside and lying in bed, your heart still pounding.

Your step-relatives arrived shortly after like the nights before. Theorizing about what possibly happened but never once did they believe the prince was at fault.

It terrified you. Was what you saw a side of him that most never saw? How could people who for a self-centered prince who would take the enjoyment out of people's pain and suffering?

If he found you, who knows what he'd do?

🏰🏰🏰

The news spread quickly. Within only a few days the whole kingdom knew about the search for the woman at the ball. The prince was going from residence to residence in search of the woman who would fit the glass heel. It was only a matter of time before he would arrive.

In the night you pulled out the valuables you had hidden. You had to escape now. You packed for the journey out of the kingdom before you felt a breath on your neck.

"I knew you were up to something" your stepmother hissed.

"I've… decided to leave," you said, attempting to sound headstrong but failing.

"With all of this that was stolen from me?" she asked.

"No, this is my father's wealth! Not a cent of it is yours!" You retorted only to be met with a harsh slap in the face.

"Don't you dare speak to me like that!" She snarled as she delivered blow after blow to you, leaving you disoriented.

"You horrible girl, I should have just thrown you into the snowy streets when he died! You grew up to be nothing but rotten!" she yelled. You felt yourself slowly slipping into unconsciousness as she continued her tirade.

You woke later to find you had been tied to one of the support pillars in the basement.

"Oh God, what does she intend to do to me?" you muttered to yourself.

🏰🏰🏰

Prosciutto looked at the long list of the names of the various households of the kingdom as the carriage rocked on the uneven path. So far his attempts to find his lady had been futile.

He'd have made a bounty for her but he could not remember her name nor how she looked, which was very odd considering that usually he could remember people with ease. Whenever he tried to remember her it was always obscured, like a thick haze in his mind.

"(L/n)" he read the name of the residence he was attending next. The original owner had died and left the home to his second wife and they had three daughters from previous marriages.

The carriage came to a halt. He looked out the window to see the house and put down the list. He then grabbed the velvet box he had stored the heel in before exiting the carriage.

He followed his guards and servants to the door before one of them knocked. It only took a few seconds before two young ladies opened with enthusiasm.

"Welcome your majesty!" They greeted him in union. He knew instantly that neither of them was the woman he sought.

"Thank you and good morning to you both" he replied before he entered. He looked around the entrance. Taking particular note of a painting of a man and what he assumed was his daughter. Something about the young girl in that painting intrigued him.

"Who are those two in that painting there?" He asked.

"That was my late husband" an older lady replied as she made her way down the stairs.

"And the child?" He asked her.

"Nothing of importance, I've actually been meaning to have that painting removed for a while now but is up too high for anyone to reach" she explained, still not giving him a clue as to who the girl was.

"Well, I'm sure you know why I am here?" He said.

"Yes, I'm well aware as to why, may I have a minute with daughters before they try on the shoe?" She asked.

"Of course" he replied and as soon as he said that she and the two girls walked into one of the nearby rooms and closed the door. He followed shortly after to listen.

"Sacrifices must be made to ensure that you prosper," the lady told her daughters.

"No, I can't do that! I'd never be able to walk again if I did that!" One of the daughters exclaimed in horror.

"I agree. You can't expect us to mutilate ourselves to fit the shoe?" The other daughter said.

"You'll not need to walk when you are queen, it is a small price to pay to become " the mother spoke harshly. Now the prince knew for certain that they were not the one.

He returned to the entrance where he waited for them to return. After a couple of minutes, they exited the room. One of the girls was visibly in pain. His eyes moved to the ground where he could see a trail of blood. He was actually quite amused that she'd actually gone through with that sacrifice her mother had spoken of.

The other girl sat on the nearby chair first and let the servants attempt to put the heel on but her toes could not fit. She sighed in defeat before she let her sister take her place. The servants tried again and it fit. She squealed in joy as she looked at the prince who nodded in disapproval.

"Don't celebrate yet, I want to see you walk that bloody trail there and back, and tell me what that so-called sacrifice has done for you?" he demanded in a snarky tone. Her skin paled in horror.

"Now where is (y/n)? Is she, not a resident here too?" He asked the mother.

"She is not a resident, she is merely a servant my late husband left us" she explained.

"So where is she?" He asked again.

"She's in the basement, I found out she was stealing from us and I have her there as her punishment, there is no need to even concern yourself with that rat since she hadn't attended the ball," she said with bitterness in her tone.

"Are you sure she didn't? the lady at the ball always seemed to rush home early, almost like she was worried something would happen if she didn't leave early" he retorted as he began to put all the pieces together.

"I'm sure of it, there was no way she could have. She had no transportation, not even a dress she could wear" she replied adamantly.

"Well surely there would be no harm in having her try it on, I'm just trying to be thorough in my search," he said as he took the now bloody heel from his servant.

"Alright your majesty" she sighed in defeat before guiding the prince to the basement. She opened the door. The light framing you, head hung low in defeat.

"What… What are you going to do to me?" You asked weakly before you lifted up your head to look towards the door. Your eyes widened in shock as you saw the prince holding the heel.

"No" you muttered. The prince smiled as he looked down at you.

"(Y/n) isn't it?" He asked.

"Yes," you weakly replied as you watched him make his way down the stairs with the heel in his hand.

"I'm just here to get you to try this on" he explained softly. As if you were a small animal that could flee at any point.

"But I never attended the ball, it's a waste of time" you tried to reason. He kneeled before you and tried to grab your leg but you used what little strength you had to kick.

"I'm just being as thorough in my search," he told you before leaning closer.

"And… just as a secret between you and me. I know that the lady at the ball doesn't want to be found" he whispered, his hot breath grazing your neck making your body seize up. He took your ankle quickly and tried to get the heel on but you managed to kick it off before he had the chance to fit it.

The glass heel flew in the air before hitting the ground and smashing into millions of tiny pieces. You turned back to see the prince smile.

"I guess that was useless in the end… but that display of yours was quite telling" he snickered to himself before grabbing something out of his pocket.

"Guards I want these women arrested" he commanded in a cold tone before returning his attention to you. Now you could see the small knife in his hand.

"Look at all those bruises… I can't have you looking like that at our wedding, I'll have to push back the date" he muttered as he sawed at the thick rope that bound you to the pillar.

"However if Wench hadn't caught you stealing then you probably would have fled to some other kingdom, am I right?" He accused you but you couldn't respond. You held your head low. Terrified of what your future would hold.

"Was I right?" He asked as he grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. You nodded up and down slightly. He was satisfied with your response and returned to cutting the rope.

Once the rope snapped he put his knife away before picking you up and holding you in bridal style. Some would swoon at the idea of being rescued by a handsome prince and being carried back to a castle but this was a nightmare for you, uncertain of what he had planned, and as much as you wanted to run you knew you couldn't, even trying to move your hand was impossible.

He carried you out to his carriage while ordering his guards to stay until he had a wagon come back to collect the prisoners.

A servant opened the carriage door and the prince laid you down with your head on his lap. Soon the carriage began to move.

He combed his fingers in your hair as he stared down at you.

"That beautiful face, I remember it clear as day now" he spoke to himself as he admired you.

"I love you, even if you're too stubborn to reciprocate my feelings, " he said.

"I'll never love you!" You snarled as you turned your head away from his gaze.

"You don't really have a choice, what are you going to do, try to run away again? Because if that is the case I've already planned for that thoroughly. You're never going to succeed much less be even able to attempt an escape" he explained.

"So is locking me up your plan?" You asked.

"You think I'm going to do the same thing that woman did to you? I promise you I'm not going to do something so degrading. After all, you are my dear princess" he tried to reassure you.

"I have absolutely no trust towards you! You threatened to break my hand that night" you retorted.

🏰🏰🏰

The carriage halted and the door opened. Prosciutto didn't spare a second to hold you in his arms again. As he brought you inside the castle he ordered his servants.

"Have a wagon brought to the (L/n) residence to capture the three women there" he ordered one of the guards before walking to one of the maids

"I want you and the others to start immediately on what I'm requesting. She needs a bath run, fresh clothing, lunch prepared, and a notice sent to all those on the list I wrote for the wedding plans" he listed off to the poor maid who looked at you with pity.

He walked you up the stairs and through the halls til he reached a door. He lowered your legs gently til your feet just touched the cold marble floor. He opened the door to reveal a large bedroom.

The walls were a soft green, the fabrics were white with golden details, the furniture was made of maple wood, and a balcony behind a pair of doors. He walked you in and laid you on the large, soft bed.

"This will be the room you'll stay in until we marry. The maids should arrive soon to take you to the bath" he explained before leaving. He closed the door behind him and the loud click of the lock followed.

You tried to stand on your feet but fell to the cold floor after several attempts before you finally succeeded. You checked the door and indeed it was locked. You then looked to the balcony. You made your way there and checked the doors but they had also been locked.

For what seemed like forever you spent searching for an escape, even pushing furniture in hopes there may be a secret passage but it seemed like Prosciutto was true to his words. He really had made any attempt of escape impossible.

🏰🏰🏰

For two weeks you had been trapped in that room. Only allowed out to bathe and eat. Every day Prosciutto would come, sometimes with wedding planners and seamstresses as the days drew closer to the wedding.

Today was the day. Your heart ached as you looked in the full body mirror to see the beautiful white gown and veil on you, it hurt knowing you were going to marry a man you felt nothing but contempt for. A knock at the door got your attention.

"Your majesty, are you ready?" One of the servants asked. You made a deep sigh, resigning your fate.

"Yes…" you replied as you made your way to the door. It opened and you stepped out. One of the maids handed you a bouquet of pink gladiolus, white Rhododendrons, and purple Hyssop. You silently took them before being guided to the carriage. In there you cried, terrified of the future.

Once you arrived at the church you wiped your tears and contemplated on one last attempt to escape, to run into the woods and not look back but you knew Prosciutto would have prepared for that well in advance.

You got out of the carriage and walked in and the organ began to play. Everyone looked at you in awe, some perhaps were envious. It made you wish you could just switch places with one of those unsuspecting women but unfortunately, that was outside the realm of possibility.

You made your way to the podium where he waited with a smile on his lips, his victory would soon be sealed.

"You look radiant today my love" he complimented you but you refused to respond. The bishop began the ceremony. As he spoke you felt your blood boil as you desperately tried to not scream. You remember the many warnings Prosciutto told you when practicing your vows.

'If you so much as stutter at the wedding I'll make sure you regret it. Our wedding will be perfect, you hear me?' He had threatened.

"You are everything that I ever dreamt of and the only one I will ever need. Our love for each other is heaven-sent. From today and onward I vow to be here with you and for you, forever and always" Prosciutto declared, Something you had heard a thousand times from hours of practice.

"Now (Y/n), your vows" the bishop instructed. you swallowed all the words that threatened to erupt and took a deep breath before speaking.

"Today I say, I do but to me, that means, I will. I will take your hand and stand by your side in every moment, both the good and the bad. From this day onward I dedicate myself to your happiness, your success, and your smile. I will love you forever" you recited as you placed down your bouquet and took the other ring from the table. In that moment tears rolled down your cheeks. Prosciutto wiped the tears from your face but only to portray himself as someone who genuinely cared about you. If this had been behind closed doors he would have taken amusement at how pathetic you were.

"(Y/n) (L/n) do you take his Majesty, Prince Prosciutto to be husband for now and forever?" The bishop asked. Your heart was pounding in your chest, wanted to scream no and run as fast as you could but you were afraid of what Prosciutto would do if you did.

"I do" you replied, finally sealing your horrid fate. The prince took your hand with no hesitation and slipped on the lavish golden ring.

"And Your Majesty, do you take (Y/n) (L/n) To be your wife for now and forever," the bishop asked him.

"I do" Prosciutto replied before smiling at you. You took his hand as he had yours before and put the ring on his finger.

"With the power vested in me I now pronounce you husband and wife" the bishop announced. The applause of the crowd echoed through the church as Prosciutto laced his hands into yours and pulled you into a long, passionate kiss. It seemed like forever before he ended the kiss, you only got a second or so to leave before he swept you off your feet and walked you down the aisle and toward the carriage.

"I planned for us a wonderful honeymoon, it'll just be you and I but first I have a surprise for you" he cooed as he sat you down.

For the journey, he told you about the royal holiday home he was taking you to. It was up on the top of a seaside cliff, completely isolated from any town.

After a few hours, the carriage stopped at an abandoned building that had particularly collapsed.

"Why did we stop?" You asked.

"Because we're here," he told you as he exited the carriage and offered his hand to you.

"No, I don't trust you," you told him.

"That's a shame, I put a lot of effort into the wedding gift I was going to show you" he sighed.

"I'm not leaving" You stood your ground knowing that his gift would certainly be grim. At that moment he practically tore you out of the carriage and dragged you inside despite your protest.

Inside you were confronted with the horrible sight of your step-relatives. Bruised, starved, and bound to support pillars much the same as your stepmother had done to you.

You knew it was some sick, twisted form of vengeance that the prince had devised, maybe you should have taken joy in seeing those who had ruined your life in such pain but you could only feel horrible as they screamed out desperate apologies to you.

"They've suffered enough, please let them go" you pleaded to Prosciutto who only nodded in opposition.

"My love, you don't understand? These three have caused you nothing but suffering. Surely there must be some side of you that is happy to see them getting their just desserts?" He asked you.

"No not one inch of me enjoys watching another suffer" you responded before your attention was caught by a pair of crows. The prince's crows.

"Oh God no!" You screamed as you ran in front of your step-relatives.

"(Y/n) my dear, you shouldn't do that" he warned you.

"No, I'm not going to let you do that to them!" You retorted.

"Hubert, Francine" he called before pointing. They cawed in response before flying above and behind, quick to attack them.

"No stop!" You shouted as you tried to fend off the birds before Prosciutto grabbed you and pulled you back. Their hollers and screams grew louder and louder as the crows pecked and scratched at their eyes. You were crying and screaming as you helplessly watched them suffer.

#yandere jjba #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere x reader #fairytale au #yandere Prosciutto

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mink-place · 2 years

Text

Yandere La Squadra Di Esecuzione Headcanons (Risotto & Prosciutto)

AFAB darling

TW: Yandere behaviour, physical abuse, psychological abuse, kidnapp, harassment, inappropiate use of stands...

Risotto Nero

If you catch his attention you're either fucked or blessed. Because this man can be lovely or an absolutely nightmare.

He would start searching information about you and stalking you with the help of Metallica, he won't approach you ever.

He isn't too bond on trying to stablish a relationship with you, like being friends and gain your trust, he prefers to kidnapp you and try to gain your trust after that.

Alright, so when he has kidnapped you, he won't communicate with you, just give you food and water for the first days.

You won't be able to talk to other members of La Squadra mostly because you're locked on a room and no one knows about your existence.

You will spend some days just there, without anu communication, until Risotto thinks you've calm down enough to talk with you.

Will try to talk gently with you and make you feel kinda comfortable, but if you're not for the labor...

“I see how it is.”

He's annoyed, and that's not good, he can punish you by starving you or use Metallica to start pulling tiny objects form your body, you'll feel weak and he won't give any fuck.

Just try to obey him, he has enough with being a hitman, doesn't want to have problems with you.

Now, If you obey, he's happy and you're happy too, because he would trust you and move you from the locked room to his room, which is more comfortable.

“Is not that hard, see?”

Soon you'll become his little perfect partner and he's pleased with that.

Prosciutto

He'll at first would try to charm you with gifts and gentle words. He is a gentleman after all.

If you accept his advances he won't do anything to you, kidnapp you or killing your friends until you're alone so you just have him.

But, he is a possesive yandere, he won't let you do things he thinks you aren't capable or you don't have to.

You would need his permission to go out and he would go with you, you have to be a perfect housewife and let him do anything he wants to you, even if you don't like it.

Also, you would have to marry him.

“You're my wife, don't be stupid and let me do what I want.”

Now, if you didn't accept his advances I think he would start “taking care” of people who are important to you.

Maybe personally or would send someone else to kill them, beat them or just threat them enough to leave you alone, then he would comfort you.

“I'm so sorry about that, would you like to go for a coffee?”

He would be the only one you'll have.

And you won't be able to do anything.

Later on he'll convince you to live together, like, make you feel afraid to be alone, putting you on bad scenarios where if you go out, someone will be following you, if you are at home alone someone will try to break into your house and stuff like that.

Alright, for punishment he goes just for verbal abuse and maybe sometimes smack you, only if you really get on his nerves.

But you'll be so dependant on him that even you wouldn't mind, everything is better than being alone.

So yeah, a manipulative yandere.

If you want the other members, ask! :]

#jjba #jojos bizarre adventure #jjba part 5 #jjba vento aureo #jjba la squadra #la squadra di esecuzione #yandere risotto nero #yandere prosciutto #yandere risotto #yandere risotto x reader #yandere prosciutto x reader #tw: yandere #mink-place

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yanderememes · 2 years

Note

nsfw //

darling who enjoys the sex and the sex alone. they HATE any other sort of physical touches like hugs, cuddles, holding hands,,,, ,, which yanderes wouldn’t care and which would be heartbroken at this revelation 👁👁

👁️👄👁️

What an amazing question, anon~

Yanderes who wouldn't care:

Jotaro, Joseph, Johnny, Gyro, Dio, Diego, Valentine, Risotto, Diavolo, Formaggio, Prosciutto, Jolyne, Ermes, F.F., Abbacchio, Fugo, Polnareff, Rohan, Keicho, Kira, Kars, Mista, Ghiaccio, Illuso,

These yanderes don't care because they can enjoy the sex for what it is. While it may irk them a little when darling doesn't allow them to do other physical touches like hugs or hand-holding, it's not enough for them to be upset. Being with darling and having them to themselves whether it's through sex or not is enough for these yanderes.

Yanderes who would be heartbroken:

Anasui, Giorno, Bucciarati, Trish, Koichi, Josuke, Jonathan, Okuyasu, Caesar, Narancia, Kakyoin, Avdol, Yukako, Pucci, Doppio, Weather

These yanderes would be heartbroken by this revelation because they are the type to yearn for more. It's more than just an obsession for them. They want a true and loving relationship with darling. To do all the couple stuff from cooking together to spending the rest of their lives and celebrating anniversaries. So to hear and be treated like just another hookup, someone that is disposable, is heartbreaking.

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dilfartist · 2 years

Text

The yandere Game | Golden wind edition.

You didn't expect many people to be in the town Carnival. Nor did you expect to be separated from your friend group. It wasn't like you could call them and find them, your phone was dead. So, you strolled around the carnival hoping to find your friends. You continued to stroll and found yourself in a trance as you passed one of those fortunetelling robots from the 80s, that somehow still operated. “Free.” a piece of paper read on top of the machine, meaning you needed no money to have your fortune told.

fascinated by the machine, you decided to press the red button in the middle. The light inside the machine turned on revealing the fortune teller. An old, nostalgic type of toon commenced as the machine came to life. “Hello, Dear. Are you ready to have your fortune told? I can already tell your fortune is full of love.” you felt even more intrigued by the mention of love. You didn't have the best luck with love, and the mention of a future love life excited you greatly.

“Place your palm against the palm reader.” you did as told. The machine bobbed its head up and down as it spoke. “I’ll ask you questions and I'd like you to answer honestly. After the test, I'll tell you about your soulmate. The person who is right for you.”

Something about the way the machine spoke, sounded depraved. Like there was something more sinister behind the person who you would call your soulmate.

Requests are open for yandere soulmate matchups!

The rules are simple; describe yourself, describe what you want in a partner (don't make it obvious who you want to get), tell me the place you would want to meet your soulmate, and what type of soulmate Au you would like. Also please tell me your age. You don't have to tell me the exact number just tell me if you are an adult or not.

soulmate AU's you can choose: red thread, your soulmates voice inside your head, names on wrists, and soulmates dreams are each others memories.

Quick reminder; my yandere stories are not meant to be Romantic, they are made for horror. I do not condone any yandere behavior in real life.

#jjba x reader #jojo x reader #jojo’s bizzare adventure x reader #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere jjba #yandere jojo #yandere golden wind #part 5 golden wind #yandere bruno #yandere diavolo #yandere abbacchio #yandere bruno bucciarati #yandere narancia #yandere giorno #yandere mista #yandere fugo #yandere risotto #yandere prosciutto #yandere illuso

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dark-side-blog3 · 10 months

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I feel like childhood friend la squadra would mke darling drunk enough to confess if they ever been intimate or darling would rant to them about a shitty ex

I wanna preface this by saying the childhood friend au! You've been seeing on this blog has been from another writer: Blep Cat. So if this seems a little different than them, then that's because I wrote this :]

Warnings for dubcon (I saw intimate and sorta ran with it), oral mentioned, drugging, and a poly group of criminals being scuzzy.

++++++++++++++++

It's probably Formaggios idea to get a bunch of beer for a soccer game he's watching at home instead of at a sports bar because instead of hanging out with like-minded people, he wants to get you drunk with him and have some casual sex in the living room. Illuso probably funds this endeavour, also wanting to sleep with you, and leaves Ghiaccio out of the loop of the real intentions of staying home during a game instead of going to a bar. Ghiaccio inserts himself in this the second he calculates how expensive it is to go to a sports bar, and sticks around the second he questions why these two would only invite themselves and you to this little hangout.

So you've got three men and yourself drinking liberally, the others expected to get you to the stage of casual sex… Formaggio may be unshrinking a new pack of beer every time you're distracted, topping you all up.

And if you don't end up causally palming each other over your pants at the least, then Illuso settles for getting you to rant about past ex's during commercials and halftime. It's so easy to wind you up and set you off in whatever direction they choose. He and Formaggio think it's at least a win of some sort-- you didn't end up blowing them, but you feel closer to them. And you cried. That's always a good benefit. Ghiaccio mostly gets annoyed that you've ever been in a shitty relationship. You should be able to avoid situations like that, if you can't, it's your own fault and you deserve whatever they did to you.

Prosciutto and Risotto will settle for getting closer to you emotionally while you're drunk. Prosciutto and Risotto don't feel comfortable telling you about what's really happened to them unless you're both going to be too drunk to remember.

Pesci and Melone meanwhile… Well, they don't have the patience to wait, they want to be closer to you, in more ways than one, and they want it now. A combination of alcohol, roofies, and brute force gets Pesci the deeper relationship with you he always wanted. But hearing about your ex, no matter how shitty, just spurs him to be more aggressive. He's not mad at you, he's mad at your ex! But being a bit drunk himself, Pesci's passionate rage gets a little out of hand and… Misdirected. At you. Luckily you're both so blackout you won't remember it. Those bruises will be explained away as you two getting carried away-- Melone even says he gave you two the privacy you needed for such intimacy. Although he clearly doesn't think it ruins his chances. You were both drunk and drugged, and Melone couldn't resist manipulating you both for stronger reactions, more tears, more yelling, and passion. It's good for him to study you, and get as much data as he can. For research.

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daisys-gard3n · 2 years

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As someone who has gone to an art school the performance majors would be the most inSUFFERABLE.

They’re either trained to not feel shame, because it’s not embarrassing at all to do “silly” genres like comedia del arte, or singing dirty songs top volume in public for practise, or showing off how ✨flexible ✨ dancing made them which makes them super over the top sexual to their poor darling, regardless of who’s watching.

Or they go the opposite direction and neg the FUCK out of their darling for “doing their makeup WRONG” despite being told several times before hand the exact look, and making it exactly as they were told. Doesn’t matter. They’ve decided it’s wrong now, and you’re an idiot, and did you even READ the notes they gave you? Honestly. They’ll just have to give it to you, AGAIN.

So you pretty much described melone and prosciutto

Melone? 0 shame in anything. He loves the art of dance and lets his body take control, quite skilled in the more sensual and romantic dances. He attracts crowds of admirers, some who go into dance class just to be around Melone. Being so flexible, he can do an elegant split and other moves that shows off his toned body in his tight-fitting clothing. What can he do? He lives for the applause, winning several dance competition trophies in his youth and having people flocking to him since he figured out he could do this. So not giving him the attention he automatically thinks is given to him, it only intrigues him more.

But let's talk about the other annoying performance major in this category...Narciso. This fucker bursts into song more times than you can count, probably the annoying person who find a piano and starts playing on it. He's also dramatic as hell, perfect for a theatre major and one under suzi's instruction for his commanding performances and able to sing the 'prince-charming' esque roles. If Narciso ever falls in love with you, he falls hard. Delusional, believes that he's the prince charming and you're the one he'll rescue and have a happy end with. Probably romanticizes Romeo and Juliet if there's some inconvenience 'driving the two of you away' like you having a partner already or just refusing his advances. Forces you to practice with him, just to hear you say the other lead's parts as he fantasizes you being in place. The most annoying thorn in your side, will not leave you alone and he always brings attention to himself.

The second paragraph you described, 100% prosciutto. The curse of being a perfectionist - expect Prosciutto to have fully detailed diagrams of the stage makeup you need to do and no matter how hard you try, it's not perfect to him. Lecturing you about the whole process of lighting and that the makeup needs to work in favor with the lights. Extremely annoying, considering that Prosciutto is basically the poster child of Yoshikage's teaching. Probably steals things of yours and holds it above your head that you need to practice and practice until it's to his liking. He sees you like a helpless chick, needing guidance and tough love to make it in this major. Maybe you can get an intimate demonstration of Prosciutto putting the makeup on your face. He has a tendency to linger - especially around your mouth. It's just denial he's fronting, believing that he shouldn't have feelings for someone who was essentially his student. But those flaws...Those mistakes...Everything...Prosciutto wants to be the one to straighten you out no matter what. Maybe even purposefully telling you you did wrong when you did the makeup perfect, just to keep you around more.

Yukako is a different version of Prosciutto. As we all know, she likes potential - and you show quite a bit. She's there to guide you through things you don't understand, and is seemingly extremely sweet. She'll help you with makeup, costume changes, going over lines, etc. But of course, this isn't Yukako without her flare ups. Her extreme learning styles of forcing you to memorize the whole script and coming up with some wack punishment to give you to for failing. If you do the makeup wrong during her flare ups, she'll wipe your face aggressively and force you to do it again. If you can't memorize lines by page, she makes you stay up in the wee hours in the morning. But she also gives you fantastic lunches and starts getting extremely creepy with her gifts...It's a little too late to pull out now, you're going to be her perfect actor and her perfect partner whether you like it or not.

#yandere art school au #yandere #yandere melone #yandere anasui #yandere prosciutto #yandere yukako #(should she even get that tag she's already yandere lmao)#gn reader

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princelylove · 6 months

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Totally agree with the sadism Noriaki (fanart usually drawing him too soft lol). I love how he always have image of an honor student, who couldn't done anything wrong but actually he is so much worst, a sadistic pervert. Jotaro is also a pervert but he is hide it well, only when you know him better, he show that side of his more. I think he is opposite of Noriaki on bed (who love sweet and slow sex), Jotaro quite rough, like he realise all his emotion into sex.

Btw beside Jotaro and Noriaki, who do you think like rough sex, and who like it soft and sweet?

Rohan already a weirdo in the manga/anime so I'm not suprised he is more pervert when he is a yandere. Do you think he also use Heaven's Door on you? Like write something about you will be with him forever or he just too confident about his charm so he won't use his stand.

~ 🏵️ anon ~

Rohan is too proud to use shortcuts like his stand. But, you know, taking a little looksie into your brain never hurt anyone. He’s just checking to make sure you’re capable of even liking him in the first place, tweaking your preferences if you don’t… But he really, truly, wants to adjust nothing more than he needs to. It’s beneath him.

Here's a random assortment, but it’s very clear I’m in a part five mood…

Giorno treats you rather delicately in normal, everyday talk. You sort of expected him to be rather affectionate during sex, since he hasn’t made any advances towards you sexually, but you’re sure he’s thinking it every now and then. There’s nothing else that could be on his mind when he eyes you for a second too long, but he’s never acted on it or expressed any sort of desire for sex before, so.. you should chalk that thought up to your frightened imagination. Giorno doesn’t do well with intimacy, he fears it’s the only thing people want from him, so he will avoid it until he’s sure you have absolutely no room to escape him. He holds himself over by insisting the only medical attention you need is from him. Little cuts, God forbid a broken bone, Giorno can fix it all- and he’s happy to. Never mind the fact that he has to break your leg even more to replace it, it’s just how his stand works. If you catch the way his eyes seem to brighten up a bit when looking at your wounds, keep it to yourself. When you finally get him comfortable enough for sex, he wants you to worship the ground he walks on. Become obsessed with him the way he is with you, see him as the young god he is. Trail kisses from the bottom of his feet to his hip and he’ll consider touching you. Sex with Giorno is slow and soft, he’s meticulous, and fully expects that kind of attention to come his way before he’ll consider doing anything to you. Giorno’s sadism rots his brain if he denies himself what he craves, and, could you really hold it against that pretty face of his? He wants you to bleed out, he wants you to writhe in agony, show him you’re a living being that can experience what he has to offer. He won’t hit you, but he’ll use whatever tools he can to make sure you’re aching by the end of his little indulgent sessions.

Guido’s a bit of a masochist, but he doesn’t like all that dirty, degrading talk, he just really loves the physical pain. Talk to him like you love him while you’re digging your shoe into his chest and he’ll just fall deeper in love. I cannot see him as anything other than submissive, he just wants to do whatever you wanna do. Guido will roll on his back and take whatever you’re gonna give him as long as you reassure him that you’re doing it out of love and don’t resent him for snatching you up. He’ll give you head, he’ll let you penetrate him, he’ll do anything to keep you happy. The way he smiles as you’re carving a heart into his chest is chilling, if anything. This is the same guy that would track you down no matter how far you went- passione’s bloodhound. Yet here he is, face flushed like he just received his first nude picture, looking at you as if you’re walking down the aisle for him and not figuring out how to get this shitty carving job you're doing to scar as long as he wants it.

Prosciutto’s using you for stress relief. He’s the type of man to make you wait on him hand and foot, literally. He gets off on your subservience, it’s exactly what he knew he wanted when he first got a reaaal good look at you. He doesn’t really care about after care, so you’re on your own to get your wounds all cleaned out. Prosciutto will backhand you if you file his nails wrong, hard. You know how much of a pain it’s going to be to get this filed correctly? Are you such a stupid whore that you can’t take your mind off of him for five seconds to do him the little favor of making his nails all nice and neat? He’ll forgive you if you get on your knees and beg for him to not be mad. If you’re stupid enough to actually get on your knees, you’ll figure out what italian leather tastes like.

#yandere jjba #yandere prosciutto #yandere guido mista #yandere giorno giovanna #tw objectification #usage of “whore”#tw degradation #request granted

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ravenzeppeli · 2 months

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Chapter 1- Different |La Squadra x Reader|

Warning: strong language, sexual conversations, threats. MA.

Living a life of violence and crime was a thing that you've grown accustomed to living in Naples, Italy, for so long. You yourself committed crimes, using your stand to cover up and evidence, but now you found yourself an active member of the underground criminal underground. Activity: You were a part of a hit man team, being given a few offers you couldn't refuse.

Refusing.. you found yourself refusing, but Risotto kept his composure. All the men seemed to as you were convinced to not only join this team that consisted of six members and one leader, but you seemingly got roped into being a girlfriend to all seven of them. Then you got moved out of your apartment, your stuff being packed as Risotto permanently moved you into the base. You weren't afraid. You never felt fear towards them. You felt annoyed to be dating seven men, and you were annoyed to be forced to work as a team now. These men.. if you didn't hold your own, they would walk all over you. That was clear.

"So Y/N," Formaggio muttered as he leaned forward, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth as he looked at you, green eyes red and gloosy due to his after work celebration. "How the fuck you know Leaky Eye Luca girl? You need to tell us stuff about yourself, we wanna know you." He smirked, taking a puff of his cigarette, blowing the smoke towards you.

You sat across from him, your eyes on him as you slightly wrinkled up your nose, not being a fan of the thick smoke cloud that wrapped around your face. "I used to sell drugs for him," you told him, causing Formaggio to tilt his head to the side slightly, seeming intrigued suddenly.

"You ever fuck him?" Illuso questioned, a smirk appearing on his face as he looked you up and down.

"No," you replied, more annoyance than calmness in your tone as you spoke to Illuso. After being here only a few days, you already hated Illuso, being annoyed at Risotto for making you date Illuso too. Most of these men really annoyed you so far. You weren't really clicking with anyone aside from Melone, the crazy clingy men always being what you usually went for anyway.

"You can only fuck us now anyways, don't let me catch you cheating. I would hate to have to knock your teeth down your throat," Illuso told you, his threat causing you to roll his eyes. "Girl, watch the attitude. I mean what the fuck I say."

"You were literally at the strip club last night, and I know what happens at those low lighting strip clubs," you told Illuso, causing him to glare, cutting his red eyes at you. "You idiot."

Melone suddenly piped in, his hand clamping down on your thigh. "You aren't going to hit her Illuso, and Y/N isn't going to run around and cheat. Just trust her, and don't put ideas into her head." He always seemed to step up and defend you. That's why you already had sex with him.

You've already had sex with Risotto, Melone, and Formaggio. With Illuso and Prosciutto you’ve just given them head. Ghiaccio and Pesci.. nothing, which was fine. You didn't really find yourself having any meaningful relationship with these men anyway. This was.. business, you saw this as simply business. Of course you would be loyal, you've only fucked two men in the past before getting involved in all of this, being awkward with men and preferring sex toys or the occasional rare escort. You were kind socially awkward, even when selling drugs or committing disgusting crimes you kept quiet tried to be as quick as possible.

"The strip club is what men do in our profession, alright? It's where we conduct business. You just fucking stay here and mind your business like a good little housewife should," Illuso snapped at you, his smirk appearing back on his lips. "You're a woman.. stay in a woman's place alright?"

"I'm not a fucking housewife," you snapped at him. "You know, I've killed people before. I could be taken ser-"

"Women shouldn't be in the mafia, out with all the men doing dirty work. It isn't good for business," Prosciutto chimed in as he walked into the base living room, shutting you down as he always seemed to. "Your stand is very strong, useful, but your work is behind the scenes, and it'll stay that way." He sat down next to you. "Risotto told you that you wouldn't be killing anymore. You killed due to lack of self-control. Also, your refusal to even show your stand.. come on Y/N. Be happy with your place."

You turned to face him, cutting your eyes at him. You didn't kill because you didn't have any self-control.. well, sometimes you killed due to your line of work. These men outside of the mafia that buy drugs have tried stuff on you, so you kill them. If you read the paper and you see a rapist got out, then you kill them. You see a violent homeless man? Kill him. A man cuts you in line? Follow him home and kill him. The funny thing is you've only ever killed men. No woman ever tried to hurt you or short change you. Still, you made sure never to fuck with the mafia, Risotto finding you was a mere stupid mistake on your part. You should of tried to run, but he didn't try and hurt you so you just let him take you.

You were a fighter, but not with these men, really.. you kind of picked your battles, and Risotto mentioned to you that Prosciutto was second in command, so you didn't want to argue with him unless necessary. He was.. too dominant, too bossy for his own good. Formaggio told you Prosciutto had three ex-wives, and they all filed to leave him.. you could see why. Prosciutto was hot, but he was extremely conservative, thought the men call it "old school," whatever that means.

You wanted to say something smart to Prosciutto, but you couldn't think of anything. You also felt intimidated by him. Prosciutto intimidated you more than Risotto did. Maybe it was because you found him highly physically attractive. "Whatever."

Prosciutto seemed to be annoyed with your reply, but he ignored it, instead deciding to continue, "Well, you are our.. girlfriend now? I guess it could be called that, and that means you need to stay home and listen to us. Be good and be submissive."

"First key to submission is to take your clothes off and strip for us," Illuso told you. You heard the flick of Prosciuttos lighter as he lit up a cigarette.

"Slow your fucking roles," you snapped at them, causing Prosciutto to smack your thigh. You felt a dull sting but you had no reaction, the smack causing only a slight tingle to your pussy. "Don't be like that."

Prosciutto sat back, puffing away at his cigarette. "This is just how things have always been, and it's how things should be. You'll be fine, we're going to take care of you."

You did not want to be taken care of - you missed your old studio apartment and how lonely you always were. But, you had to look at some pros. You got better weed now. You could be happy about that, and you really liked Melone a lot. Also, you had a feeling Risotto would let you kill pretty soon, and that made you feel another tingle.

You shrugged, causing Illuso to let out a laugh. "Fuck you're so quiet, you need to learn how to speak to up more. Why don't you tell us about all those crimes you committed? You are ours now after all, we wanna know you," Illuso told you, causing you to glare at him. "Still nothing? You can't just keep only telling Melone shit. How are we supposed to trust you? You could be wearing a wire right now." It was clear Illuso wasn't being serious, wanting to mess with you.

"She's not wearing a fucking wire, Risotto knows everywhere she goes. Stop talking out of your fucking ass," Prosciutto told Illuso. "No cop is gonna fucking be suspicious of her, they'll just think she's a clueless girlfriend."

You turned your head towards Ghiaccio, his eyes on his computer as he busily typed away, not paying the group any attention. Risotto was in his office, and you had no clue where Pesci was, but you assumed that he was in the dining room as he always was.

"Who's staying here with her tonight? I'm going home tonight, I gotta go to the dentist tomorrow," Melone spoke, causing you to instantly look at him, seeming upset. "Well, I can take you with me. Want to come with me? I would love to take you. Just come home with me."

You were close to saying yes when Prosciutto suddenly spoke up, "You've been with her every waking second for the past five days. Take a break, I'll stay with her tonight." Your frown deepened. "Oh, stop with that pouting. You need to be a girlfriend to all of us, not just Melone."

"I call dibs tomorrow night," Formaggio replied, putting his cigarette butt in the crystal ashtray that rested in the middle of the dark wooden coffee table. "She likes me. See how she ain't frown more?"

You shrugged at Formaggio, causing him to give you a grin. "I don't really care who stays with me if it isn't Melone." You then turned towards Prosciutto. "I want to be an assassin. Behind the scenes is boring."

"Didn't I say no or are you fuckin' deaf?" Prosciutto snapped. "Goddamnit woman, when the man says no it means no."

"Is the man right here in the room with us?" You questioned, causing Prosciutto to immediately smack you upside the head. "You literally just concussed me." You felt a dull ache, but you were just being dramatic. He didn't concuss you.

"Stop being dramatic. That hardly hurt. Learn to watch your mouth, you keep pissing me off," Prosciutto snapped at you as he stood up. "Now stop questioning me, I'll be back in a few hours."

As Prosciutto began to walk away, you spoke, "Where do you think you're going? I don't remember you asking for my permission." Maybe if you showed him how annoying it was when he controlled you, he would stop.

He froze, turning back around as he looked down at you, his feet slowly starting to step back towards you. As his hand balled into a fist, Melone stood up, blocking Prosciutto from getting to you. "Just go Prosciutto, she's kidding."

"I am a grown man, I am in charge of you. You aren't in charge of me. You are beneath me in every way," Prosciutto snapped at you, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're a woman. You're our woman, meaning you just shut up and listen always. That's your job. Understand that girl?"

You shrugged your shoulders at him, causing him to glare at you one last time before turning away, walking out the front door and slamming it shut.

"Goddamnit Y/N," Formaggio snapped at you, pointing a finger at you. "You've gotta stop pissing him off. If you wanna fuck with someone fuck with Illuso or Ghiaccio."

"Don't tell her to fucking bother me," Ghiaccio suddenly snapped, his dark eyes glaring at Formaggio. "She's not bothering me at all, I want to keep it that way!" He turned his attention back to his computer, completely ignoring your existence. In Ghiaccios eyes it was as if you weren't even a person, just a prop that he seems to not be interested in. Fuck it, fine by you. He seemed like a total jack ass.

"Bother me, and I'll stick my dick in your mouth," Illuso told you, causing you to immediately stand up. "Come on, I'm joking around!" As he reached forward to grab you, you shook your head, walking past him, shaking your head once more as you felt his hand smack your ass, a loud pop sound filling the air.

"Stupid," you called out as you walked into your bedroom, softly closing the door. You let a low sigh escape your lips as you walked over to your desk, sitting down at the leather rolling chair that was slightly pushed out. You sighed, closing your eyes as you leaned back in the chair - this new life was definitely an adjustment for you. Aside from Melone and Formaggio, these men were not very likable. Maybe you were judging too hard. Or maybe you were right. Or maybe you were just insane.

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