#Certainly sticking this poor motherfucker with MORE DEBT

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Going to fucking throw up my interest kicked in on my care credit loan

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If you have time would you consider writing a pesci x reader? Maybe one where his gf is in la squadra and disagrees with how prosciutto is training him and treating him? Who would he side with? I hope that made sense, if you decide not to do this, then still have a good day! Thank you for reading this

Hey Anon! Thank you so much for the request, this was a fun one to right out, it’s rare that anyone requests anything Pesci and that’s a shame! He’s a good character and an underrated but necessary part of La Squadra. Sorry this took so long, I’ve been busy this summer studying for the fall. 

Anyway, without further ado: Your Choice: Pesci x Reader (2.3k words)

You sat alone in your apartment, waiting for Pesci to arrive so the two of you could spend the evening together, and just relax in each other’s company. But your boyfriend wasn’t showing Where was he? You might wonder that if you hadn’t just gotten a call from him saying he’d be another two hours. Apparently, Prosciutto was giving him a long lecture about all of his shortcomings regarding the most recent hit. You sat and waited. 

You and Pesci joined La Squadra together at the same time as a couple, and overall, it was a pretty sweet gig. Once you had gotten over the hurdle of ending another person’s life, you began to see that the teammates were friendly enough, the pay wasn’t great for Passione standards but not bad, and your Capo, Risotto, was fair-minded. Almost too fair-minded, in that he. allowed you and Pesci to go on hits together, but he also had Prosciutto to go with you two as a mentor for Pesci, who still hadn’t yet jumped over that first quintessential hurdle. It sucked. It was like the two of you were nothing more than babies to the other members of the squad, and Prosciutto had been designated as the babysitter. 

You wouldn’t hate it so much if you actually liked Prosciutto. But you didn’t like him. You couldn’t stand him, or the way he treated Pesci. In many ways, Pesci’s stand was more powerful than his mentor’s. Beach Boy was more direct, more discreet, faster, more effective in killing and even had fewer weaknesses than the Grateful Dead. The only thing holding Pesci back was his lack of self-confidence, and that certainly wasn’t going to get better if Prosciutto kept insulting him all the damn time! You were sick of it. You loved Pesci as he was, however sensitive and nervous he may be. But you were as much a newbie as he was, so you had no say in the matter. 

You refocused once you heard a knock come to the front door, Pesci was finally here. You opened the door, immediately wrapping your arms around him, but the young assessing remained frozen in his spot. 

“Hey (y/n)...” 

Pesci muttered before hanging his coat up and heading straight to bed, but you weren’t having any of this. Cutting him off before he could leave the living room, you placed a soft hand on his chest. 

“How was the meeting with Pros?” 

“(y/n), I don’t wanna talk about this.”

“No, you do wanna, because I do. Did he yell at you again?”

Pesci sighed. “Yeah, of course, he did.”

You shook your head. “That motherfucker... was it helpful yelling?” 

Pesci shrugged a bit before you raised your eyebrows at him, and he shrugged again. “Yes? No? I don’t know! What do you want from me (y/n)? He’s out superior! And besides this is just the mentoring I need I guess. You think Formaggio needed to be babied when he first joined? Or Ghiaccio? Or Mel? No, they probably didn’t. But I do, that’s just the way I’m gonna learn to live like this. It’s tough love.”

“Pesci, sweetie, yelling at you and punching is not tough love... you’re never gonna improve if he keeps knocking you down!”

Pesci stood there, looking down at you from his immense height. It was too bad for however tall he was, he certainly didn’t act like it. After a few moments of consideration, the shy mafioso walked past you without a word, heading to his bedroom while you remained in the living room. After giving him an hour, you entered the bedroom to see Pesci sitting hunched over at the edge of the bed, staring out the window. You went to sit next to him, seeing his tear-filled eyes and red cheeks, and you sighed. 

“I’m sorry Pesci... I didn’t mean to get mad like that. I just can’t stand he treats you.”

Pesci nodded slowly. “Yeah... I can’t either. He’s a good guy though. Helped us move into this apartment when we were starting out.” 

You couldn’t argue with that. “He gave us half his pay from hits when we weren’t allowed on hits yet.”

“Yeah... I just gotta get over it you know? It’s my job (y/n), and people are relying on me to do my job.”

You smile a little, leaning on your boyfriend’s shoulder. “What’d Formi say? Something like ‘killing ain't no different from being a chef in a restaurant or driving a cab. Someone wants it done, and if they pay, someone will do it for them.’”

Pesci nodded. “Yup... simple as that.”

When the two of you fell asleep, you promised Pesci you’d stick up for him next chance you got.

- - - - 

The next group meeting came around, and Pesci was nervous to see Prosciutto. He always managed to embarrass him at one of these things, and then claim it as tough love afterward. On the drive to the hideout, you could see his hands shaking at the steering wheel. 

When you finally entered the hideout, hand in hand with your boyfriend, a certain masked assassin couldn’t help his wandering gaze over your body. 

“(y/n), you doing anything different lately? Your legs are looking better than usual in that skirt of yours.”

You glared over at Melone, annoyed at his lack of shame. “Can it Mel. If you weren’t a teammate I would have beat your sorry ass by now.” 

Prosciutto clicked his tongue, his attention directed at you for your disrespectful remark. “The hell are you on that you think you can talk to him like that? If anyone’s got a sorry ass in this group, it’s you for being so sensitive. Melone always says shit like that.” 

Melone pouted. “Not always. Only when they deserve it-”

You snapped at him, still staring at Pros. “Shut the fuck up Melone.”

Prosciutto stood up from his seat, walking slowly towards you, eye to eye until you strained your neck looking up at him. “Where do you get off talking like that sweetheart?” 

“Don’t call me sweetheart.”

“Melone over there has been in this group before you were old enough to move out of your mamma’s house alright? You got no right saying shit like that to him.” 

Snarling, you kept eye contact with the blond. “Oh I’m sorry, does this concern you Prosciutto? Cause I hadn’t said a word to you the entire fucking time until you decided to butt in like you do with everything.”

“You’re my crony until Risotto lets you on hits of your own. I’m in charge of how you act. And Pesci-”

Prosciutto turned to Pesci, who had been nervously sitting in his spot on the couch, not wanting to join in the argument. “Y-yeah bro?” 

“If you were a real man and not a total mammoni, you wouldn’t let your girl act like this, nor would you let her dress like this, practically inviting comments like that. Have some self-respect moron, and reel your girl in.” 

Pesci nodded quickly. “Yeah... I will.” He muttered, looking down at his lap. 

You scoffed, shaking your head. “No, you know what? Fuck that! That man was up all week with you for a hit. You know what Pesci told me a couple weeks ago?! He comes back complaining to me that-”

“Wait (y/n) don’t-”

“No. He comes back complaining to me about how you would send him out to do reconnaissance for a hit while you would go spend time with whatever fidanzata you got laying around. You tell him to reel me in, maybe have the decency commit to one person instead of leading these poor girls on all the time.”

Risotto glanced over at Prosciutto, annoyed. “Is that true? Do you leave him alone on missions?” 

Prosciutto turned to Pesci, a deep frown on his face. “Figlio un’ Puttana, I told you not to tell anyone!” 

Pesci flinched back. “I’m sorry, I only told (y/n)! I didn’t think she would ever mention anything about it!” 

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t apologize Pesci. He doesn’t deserve it for the way he treats you.” 

Prosciutto grabbed your arm in a tight grip, preventing you from stepping back from him. “Excuse me? What do you mean?” 

“How the hell is Pesci going to get any good at what he’s supposed to do if you’re constantly downing him huh? Ever thought maybe he’d be confident enough to do his job if you weren’t breathing down his neck so fucking much!” 

“Oh get over yourself (y/n)! You’re as much of newbie as he is! You kill one man and think you’re capo. Besides, it’s what Pesci needs if he wants to be in this group anyway.” 

You thought for a moment, wondering how you should respond. You couldn’t argue with him, you were still a rookie. After a few moments of tense silence amongst the group, you turned to Prosciutto again. 

“Fine! You know what? If you’re gonna treat Pesci and I like this, then we’ll leave the group? How about that huh?” 

Pesci looked at you shocked. “Wait what?” 

Prosciutto burst out laughing, keeping his hand tightly on your arm. “Oh, oh, that’s rich! That’s fucking rich. I don’t think you understand dolcezza, you can’t just leave this little gig of ours. You’re stuck here. Right Ris?” 

Risotto thought on the other’s words before shaking his head. “No. (y/n) and Pesci sought out Passione on their own free wills. They don’t owe this organization, or La Squadra any debt, so if they swear on their lives not to speak a word about us, they can go free.” 

Smiling at such words, you turned to Prosciutto with a huff before nudging out of his grip. “Come on Pesci, we’re leaving.”  

You grabbed your boyfriend’s hand, pulling him up from the coach and stomping towards the door. Looking back, Pesci made eye contact with Prosciutto, who spoke before the two of you left. 

“Make a decision for your damn self Pesci. She’s controlling you just as much as I am right now.” 

Pesci stood there, frozen in his spot, looking around as the whole squad stared at him to make a decision. His heart rate skyrocketed, his palms grew sweaty. He really didn’t like being made the center of attention like this.

You kept tugging at Pesci’s arm. “Come on Pesci, let’s go! We don't need them.”

Prosciutto kept calm. “The choice is yours, Pesci.” 

Pesci looked between the two of you, shaking as he stood there. No one else spoke for either side. This was his choice to make. Finally, he shook off your grip, looking down at you as you looked up at him in surprise. 

“Pesci, what...?”

“I don’t know if you realize (y/n), but... We do need them. We need these guys. We ran away from home together, and our families disowned us, and these guys took us in when we asked. And I don’t like how you yell at them when they’ve given us money to support ourselves, more money we ever would’ve gotten otherwise. So what if he’s been mean to me? Don’t act like you were one hundred percent on board with killing from the start. You’re not perfect (y/n), you had to be yelled at too. So don’t act all high and mighty and claim you’re doing this for me alright? I wanna stay, so I’m gonna stay. If you love me as much as you tell me you do, you’ll stay too.” 

A tense air filled the room, everyone (even Pesci) surprised that the young member of the team could stick up for himself like that. You gulped, looking your boyfriend up and down, realizing how much you wanted to be with him. But at that moment, you were speechless, so you shyly nodded your head and walked back to the couch and sat down while Pesci and Prosciutto remained standing. 

The moment you sat down, Prosciutto breathed a heavy sigh and went to Pesci to give him a pat on the back for what he said.

“Good work Pesc-”

“But as for you, bro, I-I don’t like the way you talk to (y/n) and I, and I don’t like the way you baby me on hits. Now, you’re gonna allow me and (y/n) to go on a hit by ourselves, without you, and I guarantee you that I will kill whoever you want with my own two hands. If I don’t, baby me all you want. But I will kill him, and prove that I’m not the momma’s boy you think I am.” 

Prosciutto took a step back, more surprised than anyone at what the other man just said. He turned back slowly to Risotto, asking quietly what he should do. Risotto thought for a moment before nodding. Pros turned back to you and Pesci. “Fine. There’s a hit in Milan this Wednesday. You two go on it yourselves.”

With that, the two men sat down, and Risotto began the meeting. You reached over next to you to hold Pesci’s hand, and he held in a confident grip. Turning your head, you shared a look with Prosciutto at the other edge of the room, the two of you now with greater mutual respect for one another, and shared respect for Pesci after he managed to put both of you in your place. You promised yourself to not speak for Pesci, and Prosciutto told himself to be more encouraging. 

That Wednesday came around, and with only a little hesitation, Pesci killed a man for the first time. Without Beach Boy, with his two bare hands. When the two of you came back to the hideout the next day, Prosciutto personally made a toast to the successful hit, giving Pesci a heartfelt pat on the back.