Hello! Can you write a scenario/headcanons (whichever you prefer!) about Melone, Formaggio and a gn la squadra member/reader enjoying an evening together gossiping and stuff? Might be shippy or totally platonic! (I love your blog! 🥺🥺)(Also these two separately ofc!)
Hi there, darling!! Awww thank you for you kind words :,) And sure thing!! Here we go :3 I hope you’ll like it!!
Mini-scenarios: Formaggio and Melone enjoy an evening with their friend
(Under the cut for length!)
Melone
You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck, and plopped on the couch, near Melone. The man turned his head to watch you, with an amused smile that widened when you showed him a couple of face masks and a glamorous purple nail polish. Oh, how you knew him well…
“It’s Sunday, Mel. Time for our beauty time!” you cheerfully said, while your friend was already studying the nails of your right hand. He sighed, picking up a nail file and starting to adjust your nails, relaxing at the sound of your quiet hums. How much he loved those moments… little oasis of peace in the chaos that was an assassin’s life.
“So? How was Florence?” you smiled, relaxing on the couch and letting Melone do his magic on your nails. He was extremely methodic, as almost as Prosciutto, and he always managed to fix your nails like no one else, after a mission. And well, you were good with hair. If he always had a glamorous haircut it was thanks to you.
“Wonderful. Don’t tell Risotto, but I managed to accomplish the mission in like, two days, and I’ve spent the rest of the week going around as tourist. It was sooooo nice to spend the Boss’ money there… well, he already has too much money, don’t you think? Better take from him what we can and enjoy them.” Melone snorted, giggling, and took your left hand, to carefully fix your nails. Oh, stealing money from the bastard that enjoyed to underpay all of his various squads would always be his favourite hobby ever…
“I won’t say a word, don’t worry, dear. And so… what did you visit in Florence?” you smirked, amused by his casual tone. He was almost like a child, when he knew you were gone somewhere…
He always loved when you brought him a little souvenir. His only eye always shone in delight when he could finally unwrap your present and, no matter what it was, he was always enthusiast about it. His fridge’s door was, by now, full of colorful magnets and you always joked saying that it seems more like the a housewife’s fridge than an assassin’s. There wasn’t a better compliment for him.
He liked when people, and you in particular, told him he seemed a normal person.
“I’ve ruined my shoes walking around… and trying to find the perfect souvenir.” fast as a snake, you pulled from your pocket a small package that made Melone squeak in joy and delight. He took it, quickly unwrapping it, and you smiled, happy, when you saw his eyes shining in joy when he took the colorful -and, yes, a bit kitsch, but he liked them like this- magnet in his hands. You giggled, when he hugged you, and you patted his back, amused and content. He really didn’t need a lot to be the happiest guy around… and you loved to see your friend smile like that. He didn’t do it enough.
“Guess I should buy you a new pair of shoes, to repay you of the efforts, don’t you think?” you huffed a laugh, while picking up a circlet and freeing his face from his lavender bangs. He stayed still, humming contently, while you were gently spreading the face mask on his face, careful to cover every good centimeter of it.
“Oh, you know I wouldn’t say no to a gift, Mel.” his lips twitched, but he managed not to grin, not to ruin the face mask just put on. When you finished, he took again your hands, to put the nail polish on.
“And here? How has it been?” you asked, watching with marvel how Melone was putting the nail polish on. Perfect to the last millimeter. No surprise that even Gelato and Sorbetto, who always showed an enviable manicure, were almost jealous of your perfectly painted nails!
“Oh, as usual. But I missed you!” he pouted, and you huffed a laugh, resisting the temptation to pinch his cheek. How could he, the sweetest and kitschest person you have ever know, be a top-tier assassin? He really had two faces… as everyone else, in your squad. No one, watching Risotto’s intimidating figure, would have ever imagined he was the most tender gardner in the world. No one would have ever imagined, not after seeing them at work, at least, that Sorbetto and Gelato were the sappiest and cheesiest couple around. For the rest of Passione, they were just their cold blooded assassins.
Well, for you they were your family, especially Melone. Your sweet, fashionista and curious friend…
“And I’ve missed you too!” he smiled, content, finishing to put the nail polish on your right hand and switching to your left one. You sighed, relaxed, resting your back on the couch arm, closing your eyes. Yes…
It was nice to be home again.
*******
Formaggio
“Ohi, Y/N! Do you have plans for tonight?” you huffed, when Formaggio rested his arm on your head, and lifted your eyes from the magazine you were reading, to fix them on your partner-in-crime’s smug face.
“Maybe.” you giggled, when he loudly complained, and, right when he was about to beg, you finally gave in. It was always funny to tease him like this!
“So, what are your plans for tonight, Formaggio? CSI and beer at your place?” he grinned, raising a positive thumb up at your words. It was almost a ritual of yours: every Friday night was your CSI night. You both loved to watch it, sometimes just to laugh at the absurd murders, sometimes to even take inspiration from them. Formaggio liked to be theatrical, as much as Risotto allowed him to be. And you could understand him: with a stand so versatile as Little Feet, you too would have gone creative!
“Bring the snacks, this time the beer is on me. At eight and half, hm?” you nodded, smiling, amused, and then he finally freed your head, going to the entrance door. After shouting a bye to everyone -aside Ghiaccio, as they had fought again. Sometimes you thought of them more as children than as grown ass murderers-, he was out.
“Uh-uh, at Formaggio’s again, Y/N? Do you have something to tell us?” you scoffed at Melone’s teasings, and closed the magazine, after putting in it a piece of paper, not to lose the point where you’d stopped.
“Yes, that you’re a bunch of assholes. See ya tomorrow, guys.” you waved a little your hand, exiting the hideout and taking the magazine with you. So, snacks… on your way to Formaggio’s place, you stopped at a little discount to buy some snacks, a mix of yours and his favourite ones, and then you finally went straight to his flat. You knocked a couple of times, and, when Formaggio came to open, one of his cats jumped from his shoulders to yours, meowing and purring and rubbing his little muzzle on your hair. You giggled, amused, coming in, while Formaggio was apologizing and trying to get the cat back, only to be hissed at, to his enormous dismay.
“You little ungrateful flea-bag!” you pouted, picking the cat from your shoulders and holding it on your chest, gently scratching it behind his ears, earning more purrs and soft meowls that turned into hisses every time Formaggio came near.
“Don’t be so mean to Signor Spock!” you scolded him, giving him the bag with the snacks and keeping cuddling the cat, while going to the couch. You plopped down, playing with Signor Spock, giggling when you heard Formaggio grumbling and huffing, while he was preparing a couple of bowls full of snacks, and a couple of deliciously cold beers, of course. You turned on the TV, zapping from channel to channel until you finally found the right one. Now it was just a matter of waiting…
“So? Do you want to tell me why you and Ghiaccio fought?” his grumbles became louder as he approached the couch, putting a couple of bowls on the small coffee table and handing you a beer. You hummed, enjoying the cold surface of the glass bottle and, when he too finally sat down, you clicked your bottle with his, in a simple toast, and took a sip. So refreshing…
“Cat got your tongue, ‘Maggio?” you turned around, only to find him pouting and… slightly red on his cheeks. What the hell? What did Ghiaccio say to him?!
“Bullshits, like always. Nothing to worry about.” he grumbled, almost shoving on you lap a bowl. Signor Spock hissed again, before hopping down and trotting on his favourite spot: on the wardrobe, from where he could perfectly ambush his owner. You tilted your head, looking at your friend and his grumpy face, before sighing. He was as stubborn as a horse, when he wanted to…
“Alright, alright, keep your secrets, then. But you know I’m always here for you, right?” you said, after putting your beer on the coffee table. You took his face in your hands, looking at him right in the eye, serious. He was surprised and again slightly red on the cheeks; you were so near…
However, he started to frown and pout when he noticed how your hands were slowly pressing more and more his cheeks, and he openly grumbled when you mouthed cioppi-cioppi, laughing.
“Oh, c’mon!” he complained, but it was impossible to miss the grin that was forcing its way on his lips. Your smile widened, when you saw it. Ah, it was a win!
“Oh, it’s starting! But don’t you think we’re done, hm?” he rolled his eyes, but hummed a yes, immensely enjoying your head on his shoulder. Maybe Ghiaccio’s teasings were so annoying because they were true…
However, it was something for another time. Now it was time to watch CSI with a beer, some good snack, and especially you, his best friend…
Or maybe something more?