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The tenebrosity of night crept in through the windows of the decrepit abandonment that La Squadra called their base. The only sounds to be heard was the low murmuring of voices from the only tv set inside, and a string of snores that occasionally interrupted the peace from Formaggio. He was just as loud asleep as he was awake, you thought as you stared at the tv with half glazed eyes. You glanced over at the fellow assassin, debating whether you should tease him in his current state by pulling a classic prank or drawing on his face. An overly exaggerated voice from an advertisement snapped your attention back from your devious thoughts, but not for long. Phil Swift enthusiastically blabbers about Flex Tape, and somehow, you are struck with a dubious idea as Formaggio lets out a louder snore than the rest thus far. A smirk graces your features as you ran the new devious plan through your head, and to be honest the man across the room from you had it coming after the embarrassment he had caused you last week.
You two always had a playful and sibling-like attitude towards each other, but when he decided to take it upon himself to rummage through your room while you were away on a mission, was the day he committed a prank - war crime. When you returned, you were greeted by the whole team except Risotto; listening to Formaggio read your dream journal. It was a like a book club full of middle-aged women having tea time while they discussed the various sex scenes from 50 shades of Grey. Your dream journal was not as explicit but still had some rather embarrassing things in it involving several of your teammates. Formaggio was right in the middle of reading off an entry about you and the capo as you stood with a shocked expression in the shabby living room. Your face was beet red and your eyes were shooting daggers at the shameless man who still hadn’t noticed your presence in the room. Prosciutto shifted in his seat uncomfortably while looking towards Formaggio hinting that you were staring at him with murderous intent. Pesci coughed to hide his own embarrassment after hearing your night time fantasy about your Capo. Formaggio stopped with a dumbfounded expression at the other two to look towards the doorway, giving you an anxious yet still devilish smile; as he was not used to seeing you upset over his antics. He started to run as soon as you began to take a step towards him, and your voice boomed throughout the base as you chased his sorry ass down.
As a result of the foolish attempt of exploiting your fantasies to everyone, Formaggio had received a fist to the face by you and then the two of you called a truce (even if you were still going to be pissed). As for the rest of your team members, they all vowed to keep your dream about Risotto a secret, and thankfully it was the only entry that Mags had gotten to read to them. Just thinking about the awkwardness that could have been created between the rest and you made you feel hollow on the inside, let alone how much worse it would have been if Risotto were sitting in the living room as well that day. The bruise was still faintly on his face tonight as he slept with a face of content, and you smiled to yourself while thinking about his carefree nature that you found slightly admirable; given your teams occupation. He probably wouldn’t be so carefree after what you were planning to do tonight though. You stood up quietly from your seat, leaving the TV on so that he wouldn’t be awakened by the sudden silence and snuck off upstairs to see if anyone else was awake.
To your surprise, you heard the faint sound of music in Pesci’s room as you passed by and decided to lightly knock on his door and wait for him to open it. His footsteps padded across his room and the door cracked open to reveal his face and the tuft of green on top of his head. “Is something wrong y/n?” he asked with genuine worry knitted in his expression as he poked his head further out and looked down each end of the hall and back down at you. You gave him a reassuring smile to ease his nerves before inviting yourself inside his room and shutting the door quietly behind you, much to his surprise. “I have a favor to ask, Pesci.” He quirked an eyebrow up at your remark, wondering what sort of business he was getting into already. “Ask away then.” He replied, and thus you explained to him the grand scheme of what was going to happen tonight.
“…You want to flex tape Mags to the seat down stairs and booby trap the living room, Home Alone style?"
“Yes.”
He looked down at his feet as if they would give him an answer, then back to look in your eyes with determination. “….I’m in.”
Your eyes widened a little, but you had to hold back the full grin that was trying to etch itself onto your lips. “W-Wait seriously??”
“Uh-huh.” The usually timid, big guy said with absolute seriousness.
You were interested as to why he wanted to be a part of your tom foolery; for you and the others had him pegged as a gentle giant (despite the fact he is an assassin as well). Right now, he had a mischievous spark in his eyes and a coy smirk to match your own. You wondered what might have triggered his sudden shift in attitude, but you decided not to bother asking because you figured that the fool downstairs had something to do with it. Everyone has fallen victim to Formaggio’s antics, multiple times. Whether it was triggering Prosciuttos OCD by rearranging the silverware drawer or taking the capos signature hat to slightly shrink it so it’d fit weird, no one was safe. You shot him a toothy grin, then spun around to head for the door energetically while Pesci chuckled at your bubbliness. “To work then, we have mayhem to construct!” You announced leading the way with your new partner in crime.
The two of you sneak back down stairs, passed the living room with a sleeping Formaggio, and into the kitchen to find the flex tape that was used during interrogations, all while being cautious to be as silent as possible. To you and Pesci’s luck, Formaggio was nearly impossible to wake up so long as there was the background noise of a tv or a fan. This was a fact that everyone knew, and you enjoyed these opportunities to mess with the other from time to time. This time however; was going to be your best orchestration yet.
After taping the snoring fool to his chair quite snuggly (but not enough to hold him for long), and setting up a makeshift trip wire out of Pesci’s stand that once activated, would rip Formaggio’s boxers right off, sending him into a panic as he stumbles around, stepping on the Legos you and Pesci have strewn about on the floor (Melone kept a few toys around to keep his stand Babyface occupied). Lastly, the two of you figure out a good place to place a hidden camera in the room to record the whole thing for the rest of the team to watch the next day.
You and Pesci stood beside each other after setting the camera up, admiring your chaotic ingenuity. Formaggio is still sleeping comfortably despite the restrictions of tape holding him, unknowing of the mess he will be faced with when he wakes up. The two of you decide to scurry back upstairs and into Pesci’s room to hang out. As soon as the door is shut Pesci is bubbling over with contagious laughter he had been holding back. After calming down a little and making small talk, your curiosity is peaked as you look over to a messy desk covered in various sketches. Your feet move without your brain even registering and you begin to look through various drawings of sea life and scenery of the countryside. “These are beautiful Pesci; like worthy of the Louvre.” Pesci becomes bashful again as he lets you look through his works; mentally kicking himself for not tidying them up but also admitting that he was happy to be able to be open with at least one other person about his hobby besides Prosciutto. “I-I have more, if you’d like to look.” He said with eye’s facing your way but looking at his works instead of directly at you. You turned to him with a gentle expression that eased his insecurity away, and he went to gather up more of his art.
The two of you shared the rest of the night in his room, you listening to your beefy friend as he described the stories behind each drawing, both true and imaginative. He had drawings of the team that were on point, as if he had taken a picture of them, as well as a few cartoony sketches of everyone’s stand. One drawing caught your interest the most. It was a little comic that showed Formaggio in the living room, getting ready to read off your dream journal to his unwilling audience, and Pesci reaching to grab it with an angry look on his face. Then as you arrive through the door that evening, you’re greeted by him handing your book back to you. You felt your heart flutter a little as you gazed at the drawing, and when you hadn’t said anything Pesci interrupted your thoughts to speak his own. “This is what I wish I had the courage to do that day, it was lowly and more childish than usual of him to do what he had done.” He said with more of an introspective way, and to you the man beside you seemed much more mature than what the others felt he was lacking in. You squeezed his arm and thanked him. At this you piped back up, smiling at him for his thoughtfulness, even though it was after the fact.
Suddenly Pesci’s stand materialized, noting that the chaos downstairs had begun. Surprised, he quickly grabbed it to begin reeling in the catch, whilst hearing various sounds of pain from the downstairs. You stood up, bouncing your knees in anticipation as you heard Formaggio stumbling up the stairs after his fleeing boxers.
The boxers slip right under the bedroom door, Pesci hides his eyes to spare himself of Formaggio’s nudity, while you braced yourself just to embarrass him even more. He burst in through the door shielding his manhood with a throw pillow, and a face of shock to find you and Pesci as the culprits. “In any other circumstance, I would be proud of you Pesci, but being that I am the victim in this, I can only be halfway so! AND YOU; SHE DEVIL! You’ve tainted our poor Pesci!” He rambled while both you and Pesci screeched in laughter. He snatched his boxers from Pesci with a pout and stormed off without another word.
You concluded the night with a wink at Pesci, which he returned as you both headed off to get at least some sleep.
The next morning you gathered everyone into the living room, except for Formaggio, that is. You held a VHS tape labeled “Payback” in your hand, which had the rest curious. Pesci had a shit eating grin on his face, which somewhat unnerved Prosciutto, because Pesci rarely shows malicious looks like this. The tape begins to play, showing Formaggio flex taped to the chair from last night, as well as a floor littered with the legos that Melone used to entertain Babyface. They all watched with boredom at first, until Formaggio awakened, struggling to rip from the chair as his boxers were ripped clean from him. Risotto nearly chokes on his coffee, as the star of the show enters the living room in person. Ghiaccio and Melone are making seal noises as they watch Formaggio on the tape flail around the living room, nude as the day he was born. Prosciutto’s face is red with his mouth agape and wheezing while holding his sides. Illuso is busy ogling at the tv with his pervert eyes to even notice Formaggio was standing in the same room.
Formaggio looks across a sea of hysterical faces, his mouth drops open at the tv showing his nude ass running around, then he makes direct eye contact with you. “Paybacks a bitch.” You say with a shrug. He lunges to eject the tape, and once out, he shrinks it down into nothing with his stand. “Aw, what a poor sport Mags.” Says Illuso in a teasing voice. Formaggio gives him a glare from across the room, and then shifts his gaze to the floor to avoid the other’s faces. When the rest had quieted down a bit, Risotto stands from his seat and begins to pass out files to everyone containing their next target as a good enough change in topic.
“Alright everyone; fun is over, time to be assassins again.” The capo states with a rare and genuine smile on his face. You felt your heart melt as his eyes met yours while handing you a mission for the week. After everyone briefly read through their files, they went about their own business, except for You, Formaggio and Pesci, as ordered by your capo. He looked at each of you once but settled his intimidating gaze (with the warm smile replaced with his usual seriousness) towards you as he spoke. “Tell me what the meaning of this was and how Pesci even got involved, y/n.” Now you were the one who felt timid and embarrassed, but you explained the whole escapade to your leader with honesty; leaving out the detail about which dream Formaggio had read from your journal of course.
He hummed to himself after you were done, then dismissed the other two, warning Formaggio that there would be no backfiring at you for what was done. You stood in the living room alone with Risotto in front of you, who was back in his favorite seat. “There will be consequences for you as well.” He stated without dropping the intense eye contact. He did this to everyone who screwed up a mission or caused a fight with other team members, but you sensed a different meaning behind his stare than one of anger or disappointment. You didn’t speak, allowing him to continue. “Instead of the mission I gave to you, Pesci and you will be coming along with me. One of the others will pick up your missions, now; go tell him to pack a bag because we will be gone for about two weeks.” You nodded, not daring to question his order, but before you were about to exit the room; he stops you once more. “Oh, and you better bring that journal along with you, so the others don’t have anything to poke fun at you with when we come back, and just in case you need to write at night.” He said with a smirk. You froze for a moment, embarrassment washing over you like a wave crashing into nearby rocks. “Y-Yes Sir.” You stammered, and quickly ran upstairs to tell your partner in crime and time of the new changes, and to help pack up.