JJBA Oneshots

Risotto Nero; Aftercare.

A/N:
Aftercare fluff with our favorite dom🥺🖤
Could be triggering. Dominate/Submissive, mentions inflicting pain, consensual violence.

Btw if you see any changes to this book, don't fret! I'm going back and editing some things but I will not be removing any chapters or editing anything crucial. I'm honestly not sure what I even want to do exactly but I am going to add Request Info as the 1st chapter of this book to make request navigation easier and to also see which characters/scenarios/genres I will write for.

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"I didn't hurt you too much, did I?." The stark-white haired man with dark scleras asked softly, as he crouched next to the tub filled with water that you sat in. His large hand holding a soapy-sponge ran up and down your back, letting the soap and water tickle your skin as it glided down.

"No. I'm okay." Your voice was hoarse, but you truly did mean it. You were fine. A little sore, but that was it. You were used to it, and it's not like you hadn't liked the pain he would inflict on you, anyway.

"Are you sure?," His deep voice was filled with concern. "You'd tell me if I went too far, wouldn't you?."

"Of course I would," You looked over at him, in his face, with a smile. "Don't worry about me, Risotto. I can handle it."

He bit down on his lip, nevertheless, feeling bad. He always felt remorseful after every session. He hated seeing the marks and bruises on your skin, and how it hurt for you to sit or walk for a few days.
But he couldn't help it, he was simply sadistic. He was like an animal and sometimes he couldn't even control it.

It sometimes scared him just how much you enjoyed it, though. How could somebody be so...mentally unwell? But then, you wouldn't like it so much if there wasn't someone to do it to you.

"Let me wash your hair, anima mia."

You turned a bit for him, still sitting comfortably in the tub though. His hands tussled through your locks, rubbing your scalp gently. It felt wonderful.
He washed your hair thoroughly with your favorite scented shampoo, a shampoo you always used, and then rinsed. He then applied conditioner to his hands, and ran it through your strands of hair.

The candles he had lit for your bath smelt heavenly, and paired well with the scent of your shampoo and conditioner. You noticed the body wash he had used made your skin feel soft, almost like a baby, and it had soothed the parts of skin on your body that still burned and ached.

You loved him so much, and you loved what he did to you almost even more. You never understood why he felt bad. You loved it, you craved it, to be frank. But you also loved the soft part of Risotto afterward that coddled and comforted you.

He rinsed your hair again, and then stood from his crouching position to grab a towel.

"Do you need help standing?." He asked once he retrieved the towel to dry you off with, and you shook your head. You didn't want to admit your legs were still shaking. You held the side of the tub as you hoisted yourself up, standing firmly on your feet.
You noticed just how bad your backside and inbetween your thighs screamed in agony.

You ignored it, not wincing or grimacing, though you did need to hold onto his shoulder as you stepped out of the tub, one foot after the other. He ran the soft towel along your skin, drying you, and drying your hair as well.

"Sit at your vanity, I want to brush your hair."

You did as you were told, and took a painful seat on your vanity stool. He stood behind you, and you looked at yourself in the mirror as he grabbed your wet-brush and the oil you preferred to use in your hair.

There was a bruise forming on your cheek already from how hard he slapped you, and you raised your hand, feeling it. Ouch.

He spritzed the oil onto your hair and began combing through it diligently. Risotto always loved brushing your hair. It was so long and silky and smelt wonderful after using your favorite products in it. It was easy to brush through, not getting knotted much. You heard him hum a song from behind you.

Boy, you were tired. You felt your eyelids grow heavier by the second and they threatened to fall shut with every breath you took.

He noticed. "We're almost done, amore mio."

You trusted his words and tried to hold onto your consciousness until you got into bed.

It only took a few more minutes before he finished brushing through your hair entirely, making sure there were no leftover knots. He sat the brush down onto your vanity, and offered his hand to help you stand up.

You took it and pushed onto your feet again, stumbling a bit, he grabbed you to help you regain your footing.

"Let me carry you, little dove." He murmured. You wanted to shake your head no, but you knew it would simply be best for you to just let him. He swooped you up easily, as if you weighed less than a feather, and began carrying you to bed.

When he laid you down it felt like you were laying on a cloud. It was so soft. Sleep felt so welcoming. He lifted the covers and tucked you in under the heavy duvet, sliding in next to you, his strong arms wrapped around you and held you closely to his muscular frame.

"I love you so much, my good girl." He whispered to you as you fell asleep, nuzzled up next to him.