Doodles of La Squadra. I think if Risotto can’t get his team’s attention, he just unclips the front of his coat and just. You know. Bounces. Might even put googly eyes on them. The team is full of trained professionals.
Practice drawing based on my favorite dress that I can’t wear anywhere. I didn’t know if it fit melone or illuso best so I did both! And to be honest, I didn’t really care for illuso before but I kinda get it now.
Haiiii can you write some Illuso x reader where they are sort of in denial about their feelings towards one another since they kind of dislike each other at first? You can even make it suggestive/smut if you want. ♥︎
In case you are wondering: yes they are teammates in La Squadra
reckless: illuso x fem! reader
a/n: hi anon, thank you so much for the request! this is only slightly suggestive, but i had fun with it. i hope to write more for illuso in the future, so thanks again!
warnings: mentions of blood, cursing
word count: 692
“You look like shit.”
His voice cuts through the silence as you observe your wounds in the bathroom mirror. That all too familiar face materializes in the reflective surface, a lopsided grin tugging at Illuso’s lips when you roll your eyes at your teammate’s sudden appearance. Invading personal space was a nasty habit of his, and he seemed to particularly enjoy disturbing yours.
“Yeah, thanks,” you scoff in response, fingers tightening around the edges of the porcelain sink in front of you. Blood-stained cotton and gauze sits to the side from where you cleaned up as much as you could.
A hand reaches through the mirror, the surface contorting and rippling from where he reaches through the mirror to you. Two fingers rest at your chin before he’s tilting your head to the side, and you can feel his gaze lingering on the sizable bruise that’s begun to darken across the side of your face. The pain had largely subsided, leaving behind a dull ache in its wake - particularly in the long, deep cut across your shoulder.
Illuso turns your face back to where you’re looking straight ahead, and your breath hitches in your throat when he drags a thumb across your bottom lip and the deep split in the skin. He pulls away after that, hand sinking back into the mirror realm at his side.
“The others think highly of you,” he says lowly, and your eyes meet Illuso’s red orbs in the mirror while your fingertips brush against your bandaged shoulder.
“It’d be a shame if something were to happen to you.”
“And you?”
Your voice is soft as you take a step forward with your eyes flickering across his features. He doesn’t react, doesn’t move while the question lingers in the air between you two. You ignore the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears for being so brazen, but you weren’t one to shy away from a challenge. Especially when it came to Illuso.
“What do you think of me?”
He shifts and leans forward to slowly close the distance between you two before he speaks.
“I think you’re reckless.”
You don’t shy away from him, don’t even take a step back even when he’s a mere inches away from your face as the glass ripples around his upper body while he leans through the mirror.
“You’re stubborn,” Illuso adds despite how the corners of his lips slightly twitch.
“You’ve got a smart mouth, and you annoy me to no end.”
You hum with a tilt of your chin upwards to look at him.
“Well, since we’re being honest with each other,” you begin and take another step closer until you bump against the sink.
“I think you’re cocky.”
A finger pokes his chest as you point at him, eyes scanning his face when he quirks a brow down at you.
“And arrogant.”
Illuso’s eyes flicker down to your lips, his own parting when your fingertip pushes harder against his chest.
“And you really piss me off-”
The words die in your throat when a hand wraps around the back of your neck, calloused palm caressing the skin before he tugs you forward to smash his lips against yours. Your eyes widen, and a noise of surprise is swallowed by Illuso’s mouth.
The two of you remain like that for what feels like an eternity, eyelids finally fluttering closed and lips moving against his until the two of you part. His hand remains holding your neck like you might run, but you don’t. Especially not when you tangle your fingers in the material of his shirt and tug him impossibly closer.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he breathes out against your lips, shoulders slowly rising and falling with each labored breath that reaches his aching lungs. You weren’t in much better shape, eyes half-lidded and cheeks warm with the thumping of your heart in your chest.
“Yeah?”
Your lips curl upwards in a grin, and your lips brush against his despite the twinge in your shoulder that grounds you and keeps you from pulling him through the mirror entirely.
