#these images activate my fucking fight or flight response i swear

[front-facing-pokemon]

#pov: this is not the last time you'll see him #bonus for his actual mouth under the cut #dusknoir #there's no real angle for this guy that actually lets you accurately tell what pokémon it is at a glance #unless you're a pmd fan‚ of course. then these images probably send you into a fit of fear as they do me #these images activate my fucking fight or flight response i swear #to be honest when hero says their name and he's like hhehe :) and he uses that one talksprite and then someone comments like #did he just… smirk!??!?! i never noticed it. that talksprite never looked like a smile to me. it was just. like he was squinting really har #i just straight-up didn't pick up on that #probably didn't help the whole. betrayal thing. but been there done that

[callmemythicalminx]

Of Rain and Warm Embraces- Tommy Angelo x Reader

Fandom: Mafia Definitve Edition

Warnings: Mentions of blood, violence, slight gore, small reference to sexual assault, language. 

Summary: You’re in desperate need of help protecting your neighbourhood from a gang of punks. In a last resort, you ask Don Salieri for his services. Tommy is picked for the job, setting into motion a night of laughter, pain and confessions. 

A/N: Okie, so... this is kinda long, which is why it’s taken so long. I started writing with this one and didn’t really stop, so grab a blankie, some snacks, put on some nice mood lighting, maybe even treat yo self to a special drink and enjoy the ride...

Dedicated to: @kaiiiiiiparkerismyhusband @lolita-wolfson @mayday1284 @xxsamanthaxx @kneelingforvillains @loutino20 @levitate-gengar @dorothynerding ​ @blackbladevika ​ @my-blog-for-me ​ @rammstein-obsession ​ @octorebel @demonsouthere ​

---

The rain pours hard as you walk across the road. You’d hoped the weather would be clear this evening, but the world seems to be against you. Usually, you take the train home as it drops off right near your street. But on this occasion, you were taking a completely different route, one that had you traversing the streets of Little Italy. 

Though there are many people around, you feel on edge as you walk. You have done for the past few weeks since you moved to this city. Every once in a while, you take a quick look over your shoulder, but nothing is amiss. You’re paranoid. They won’t be on this side of town. That’s why you’re here, remember.

You hasten your pace regardless, pulling your coat and umbrella closer to you as the biting wind forces the rain into your face. 

By the time you get to Salieri’s, you’re practically drenched through. You dressed up especially nice for work today knowing you’d be coming here after. You wanted to look attractive, make a good impression- but that’s all gone to waste now thanks to the dreadful weather. You must look an image as you quickly rush into the bar, the door slamming behind you as the wind whips against it. Your wet hair flings up into your face from the force and you cringe. Oh yeah, you’re definitely going to make an impression alright. 

You’re cheap shoes squelch against the floor as you move towards the older gentleman serving at the bar. It feels like all the eyes in the small space are on you- it’s suffocating. You blush. As you stand there, waiting for the barman to finish with a customer, you cross your fingers and desperately hope you’re not making a puddle on the floor with the water dripping from your coat. You look down. There’s practically a lake on the floor already. 

You gawk at it, your eyes practically bulging out of your head. In a feeble attempt to get rid of it slightly, you swipe at it with your foot. You nearly break your neck as your foot slips on it. Thankfully, your hands latch onto the wood bar before you fall.  

The sound of a throat clearing with badly hidden amusement brings your head up so fast, you feel like you’ve got whiplash. You open your mouth ready to speak, but you stop short. Instead of the elderly barman who has mysteriously disappeared, a man stands in front of you, a devilishly handsome one at that. Everything you were going to say slips through your mind like a sieve. You just stand there, staring at him with your mouth open. Could your night get any worse?

The handsome man raises his eyebrow at you, a small smile playing on his lips. “Can I help ya, darling?” Damn, he even sounds handsome too. 

You try to speak. What you end up coming out with is a mix of a breath and a laugh. “I- I uh. I-I um.” His eyebrows raise further. 

“Salieri!” 

Fuck, did you really just do that? Shout at him?! From the slightly amused look on his face, yes, you definitely did just do that. 

“Sorry” you quietly murmur, looking down at the wood just to avoid his eyes. A deep, breathy laugh resounds in your ears, bringing your head straight back up. He’s laughing at you. Usually, you’d be annoyed at someone enjoying your obvious embarrassment, but you can’t seem to stop yourself from smiling back at him. 

“It’s alright…,” he gestures for your name “, Y/N.” He pauses, smiling slightly again. “Tommy. I’m guessing you wanna see Don Salieri then?”

“Yes! Yes, that’s what I’m here for. To see him… Don Salieri.” What the hell is wrong with you right now? You’ve never been this nervous talking to someone before. You forget your embarrassment for the time being though as Tommy smiles, nodding his head and pursing his lips. 

“That I can do. May I just ask why you wanna see the boss?” He leans down slightly on crossed arms, bringing his face slightly closer to yours. You swear you can feel his warm, whiskey scented breath on your face but it’s more likely the warm air seeping into your cold flushed cheeks. 

“I- I uh, need his help with something. Or his services should I say.” He nods, apparently pleased with your answer, then gestures for you to follow him. 

“I’ll show you to his office.”

As you make your way through the bar and into the back rooms, you curl into yourself unconsciously, running your hand through your wet hair in a desperate attempt to control it. You feel out of place here. The men are dressed to the nines, in expensive tailored suits. The women are just the same, smoking high-end cigarettes in dazzling dresses. You look like a drowned rat compared to them.

In a sense, you feel like you’ve walked into the viper’s den. You’ve heard the stories. Seen the newspapers- these men are criminals. The one in front of you who has enraptured your attention is no doubt one too. This isn’t the place for you. Danger and illegal activities aren’t exactly your go-to hobbies. You’re here only because you’re desperate. So why are you suddenly very interested in the gangsta in front of you?

Tommy leads you up a set of stairs and to the right, pausing at a door. He looks back at you and must notice your terrified expression, as he releases a small, wispy laugh. 

“Don’t look so petrified, yea? The Don’s only scary if you’ve done something wrong. Have you?” You shake your head hard in response. He nods. “Then you should be fine.”

He knocks and a strong voice from within grants entrance. Tommy opens the door, announcing himself.

“Boss, I’ve got a dame here to see ya. Says she’s in need of your services.” Timidly, you follow behind him, peering slightly from behind his back. You see the Don look up at you, a warm smile appearing on his face. You try to hide behind Tommy’s back again but he moves to close the door, leaving you in direct view. 

You don’t move for a beat. It feels like a million alarm bells are ringing off in your head, screaming at you to leave this room and run away. You’ve never been in a room with a man of such power and influence, so your body's fight or flight response is going wild, favouring the latter option to the first. You finally move forward when you feel a hand press against the base of your spine, leading you towards the desk gently. At that moment, you’re very thankful Tommy is here with you even though you’ve only known him for less than five minutes. 

“Don Salieri Sir!” You blurt, thrusting your hand up unceremoniously. You expect him to shake your hand but you’re shocked when he instead rises and grabs your hand with both of his own.

“Please dear, just call me Salieri. And don’t look too worried, I’m not as frightening as everyone makes me out to be.” 

You hear Tommy let out a small drawn out “Well” behind you, but it goes unnoticed by Salieri as he crosses around his desk to come before you. His hand rubs the top of yours slightly as he does so. 

“You’re freezing girl. Tommy, would you get the poor girl a coffee, please?”

“Sure thing, boss.” He leaves the room and you’re quite tempted to follow him, but you feel rooted to the spot under the Don’s intense, but intuitive gaze. He leads you to one of the couches and gestures for you to sit. You take your wet coat off as you do and he takes notice, offering his hand to take it off you. 

“That’s not necessary-”

“Please. I insist.” You give it to him, albeit with a little reluctance. You rub your palms against the fabric of your dress, smiling slightly when he turns back towards you. Thankfully Tommy then re-enters the room, easing your nerves slightly. He places a small cup down in front of you, steam rising like a beacon. The aroma is too enticing for you to handle and you immediately reach for the cup, sighing as the warmth begins seeping into your cold skin. The two men laugh slightly at your reaction, making you blush as you blow onto the hot liquid. 

Salieri sits opposite you, Tommy standing beside you. The latter must notice you shivering slightly now that your coat has been taken off as a sudden warmth envelops you, smelling like rich cologne and cigarettes. Tommy’s coat covers you like a blanket, incredibly long against your frame. You reach up and pull it around you tighter, looking up at him with a shy smile in thanks. He smiles back, this time with more softness than before. 

“Wonderful idea, Tom.” You barely register Saileri’s response as you find yourself enchanted by Tommy’s golden eyes. It’s only as he replies, that you seem to snap out of your trance. “Just tryna help the lady boss.”

“So my dear. How can I help you?” Oh yeah. Right. You actually forgot for a moment why you were here. You look back towards Salieri, taking a sip of your coffee as you do so. You can feel it already beginning to warm up your body and sigh before beginning to speak. 

“Well, where do I begin?” You let out a gentle, almost soulful laugh then continue. “I moved back into the city about a month ago. I’ve been away for a while because of an old job, but I’ve returned to look after my father. He’s quite ill, you see. I don’t think he has long left and I- I just want him to feel comfortable.” Salieri nods solemnly, eyes adrift. Tommy places his hand against your shoulder, squeezing slightly and you whisper a small thank you to him. 

The Don looks at the hand on your shoulder for a second, squints, then returns his gaze back to you. You take a deep breath, sipping more of your coffee before continuing. “My father and I live in an area of mostly elderly folk. They can barely see 10 feet in front of them anymore, nevermind deal with any trouble. Because of that, there’s this little gang of goons terrorising my father and his neighbours. They know they’ll be able to get away with it.”

Salieri nods. “Have they tried anything with you?”

“Um, well. They uh. They cornered me a couple of nights ago and started,” you struggle to get the words out for a second and feel another comforting squeeze on your shoulder “, touching me, but luckily there were some police walking down the street. So they left pretty quickly. They haven’t tried anything since, but to be completely honest with you, I’m more worried about the elderly residents than myself.”

“That’s kind of you dear. Putting them before yourself.” Salieri nods to himself, lighting up a cigar as he does so. “ You’re wanting some protection then?”

“Oh please. I’d be happy to pay.” Salieri looks at Tommy again. You don’t know what passes between them, but the former nods rising from his seat. You follow him after quickly sipping the last of your drink. 

“There’s no need. I’d be happy to help get rid of those punks.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, bringing your hands to your chest in thanks. It feels like a great weight has been lifted from your body. Your father will finally be safe.

“Oh, thank you, Mr Salieri! I’m truly indebted to you for this!” The man in question shakes his head as he crosses round to you and grabs your hands again. 

“Trust me, my dear, there is no price for this. These punks need to know that I run these streets and look after all who live in them,” he turns towards the door “, Tommy will drive you home. I would imagine the goons are usually out around about now?” At your nod, he moves to collect your coat.

“He will deal with them tonight then. As for you my dear, if you ever need anything else at all, whether it’s a job or some money… please don’t hesitate to come back and ask.”

“I will. Thank you, Mr Salieri!” At that, he gives you one last smile, then retreats back to his desk. Tommy ushers you out the office after collecting your coat from his boss, then leads you back down the stairs. 

Before you reach the exit, you reach up to take Tommy’s coat off but his hand reaches out and stops you before you can do so. You look up and see him gazing at you with a warmth in his eyes. 

“Please. Keep it on. You need it much more than I do right now.” You open your mouth to argue, but from the look on his face, you surrender and instead pull the coat tighter around you. 

“Thank you, Tommy.” He nods, looking down, then pushes open the door. He reaches behind you and ducks you slightly, then you’re suddenly out in the rain again, rushing towards a building opposite. You keep your head low, trying to shield your eyes from the bullet-like rain. Tommy ducks you more, moving his other hand over the top of your head to shield you further. You feel your heart skip a beat at the kind gesture. No one’s ever been this kind to you before. Stop it Y/N, he’s part of the goddamn Mafia. You don’t need any more trouble. 

You choose to ignore the rational part of your mind as you reach the cover of a garage, a beautiful dark blue Eckhart Elite waiting parked inside. Tommy shakes his shoulders slightly in an attempt to lose some of the rain on his jacket. He reminds you of a dog, making you giggle. 

“You laughin’ at me, darling? After I just kept you dry from the rain?” You can’t help but continue giggling at his mock hurt expression. He shakes his head at you while he leads you to the passenger side. 

“Maam.” He opens the door for you and actually bows. You try to retain a smile, but it breaks out easily on your face. You mock curtsy in return as you climb into the car. “Why thank you, good sir, you do know how to treat a lady well.”

You see his smirk as he shuts the door and jumps in the driver seat after leaving your wet coat in the back. Once the engine is on and he’s got your address, he drives out into the rain.  

As you look out onto the road, reality comes crashing down around you, reminding you that you’re now stuck in a car with a criminal for the next 20 minutes. You take in a deep breath through your nose. Instead of calming your racing mind, it instead focuses your attention more on Tommy as you get a deep whiff of his smokey scent. Why not enjoy your time with him? He has been such a gentleman. For once, you can’t help but want to agree with your inner voice. 

“Your boyfriend must be a coward if he’s not dealin’ with these punks for ya.” Your head shoots back to Tommy, confusion on your face. “What? It’s not that hard to send a message-”

“Wait, no. I’m not- I don’t have a boyfriend.” Tommy looks at you with genuine shock. 

“You’re kiddin?”

“I’m telling the truth.” You shrug your shoulders as you look back out the window “Ever since I moved back, I haven’t really had time to date, what with my father and working. Well that and the fact I haven’t really found anyone I’m interested in yet.” Tommy doesn’t say anything back. You turn to look at him and find him looking at the road, but you can tell his mind is in a completely different place. He finally seems to come to his senses as he shakes his head, looking towards you. He actually blushes when he realises you were looking at him. To save him from the embarrassment, you start the conversation again. 

“Well, what about you? Does any lucky girl have the privilege of calling you there's? Surely a man such as yourself wouldn’t be single.”

Another eyebrow raise. “A man such as myself? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Damn, you really need to think about what you’re saying around this man. “Um, well. Y’know. You’re uh… handsome. And you're very gentlemanly and kind. You’re tall too. And you have… Nice taste in cars.” Your rambling now. It’s only when you hear a deep laugh come from your driver that your embarrassment quickly disappears. Instead, you look at him incredulously, squinting at him in mock anger. He notices and laughs even harder. 

“I’m glad you find my unfiltered mouth so funny Tommy.” You say it sarcastically, but you can’t help but smile as you speak. He breathes deep, looking down at the wheel then back up to you. 

“I’m sorry. It’s cute seeing you get so flustered darling.” You know you’re blushing again, but thankfully the absence of light on the street hides your rosy cheeks. No one’s ever called you cute before. “As laughable as it sounds, I don’t have a girl right now.” Now you are in disbelief. 

“Did you not just hear what I embarrassingly said about you? How could you possibly be single?!”

“Yea, I know, I know.” He shrugs, pursing his lips slightly. “I just… Haven’t found the right girl yet. There’s also not many women who wanna be with a guy like me.”

“Now why would you say that? It’s not your job is it? No wait, I know- you have some kind of weird hobby don’t you?!” You’re really taking the piss out of him now. And he knows it- you can see him silently laughing. He answers anyway. “Apart from being one of Salieri’s soldiers, my ‘nice taste in cars’ and my handsomeness, I haven’t really got much else to offer.” 

“Oh please, there has to be more to you than just being a gangsta Tommy.”

“Maybe there is, maybe there isn’t- guess you’re just gonna have to find out.”

You don’t get to process his answer fully, as your mind suddenly blanks as he turns onto the main street that leads to your road. You spot the goons out of the corner of your eye immediately. 

“Tommy, there! That’s them on the side of the road!” All traces of humour leave his face. He pulls the car in just in front of them and quickly gets out, slamming the door behind him. You follow him, jumping out into the rain. The goons having already noticed the expensive car were making their way over, but now that they’ve seen you, they quicken their steps. 

“Hey sugar, haven’t seen you in a while. You been holding out on us?” 

“Piss off.” You know it’s ‘unladylike to swear’ but you couldn’t care. You’re sick of these punks and with a gangsta at your back, you also feel fearless. The leader of the gang walks closer to you when you reach the sidewalk, but Tommy steps in front of you before he can get any closer. 

“If you saps aren’t careful, you’ll end up in wooden overcoats.” The leader looks taken aback for a second. But then his confidence returns and he slowly walks towards Tommy, puffing his chest out as he does. His friends follow close behind. 

“You brought your boyfriend sugar? It’s okay, he can watch. He can even join in at the end if he wants.” That’s apparently hilarious as the rest of the goons start laughing along with their leader. Tommy just gets more rigid. You can feel the waves of anger rolling off him and you know he’s gonna go for them any moment now. His tone is clipped and harsh as he replies “You fucks clearly don’t know how to treat a lady do ya?”

The leader’s laughter immediately stops.“Listen here pal. We know who you are- you’re one of Saleri’s washed up soldiers.” He spits on the ground at Tommy’s feet. “We ain’t afraid of you.”

“I don’t need him for this. Or anyone else.”

“Well then. Let’s see what you can do.” The leader swings for Tommy, but in the blink of an eye, he’s on the ground passed out. The rest of the punks pause for a second, thinking over their options before (stupidly) running towards you both, eager to get revenge for their leader. 

Tommy quickly jumps into action, biding his time between them all as he begins taking them out one by one. You stand there shocked for a moment, disbelieving of what you’re seeing. He takes them out easily, his fists landing heavy blows that can be heard even in the roaring rain. As one of the punks tries to grab him from behind, you jump into action yourself. You reach for a brick on the ground and hurl it towards his head.

Somehow, it actually hits him with a large thud. He falls to the ground just behind Tommy, the man in question turning around to see what happened. He smiles at you in both thanks and appreciation, before ducking out of the way of another punch. From your short interaction with him, you fail to see a beefy goon run at you from the side, pushing you back into the car. You slam into the wing mirror with force, the wind rushing out of your stomach. You gasp and sputter into his face as you try to breathe, making him angrier. You attempt to push him, lifting your leg up aiming towards his crotch, but he spins you around quickly forcing you over the bonnet. As thunder belows through the sky, your answering scream can barely be heard.

You panic, flinging your legs out wildly. Somehow, you manage to kick his leg and he curses behind you. He flings you around again. You barely register a sudden sharp pain against your face before you’re falling to the ground. Agony radiates through your head, your ears ringing. Luckily, your arm blocks your head from hitting the ground, but you feel your hands and knees scrape the gravel. 

You can’t move. The pain is clouding your thoughts. You can do nothing but lie there, breathing heavily as you wait for your senses to return. You feel hands grasp your shoulders, one of them rising to your face. You shrink back from it at first, but then the hand curls around your cheek, softly rubbing against a forming bruise. You look up into golden eyes and the world freezes around you. You feel safe. Comforted. As those eyes look at you with worry, you no longer feel the water soaking into your dress or the ache from the scratches on your skin. You can’t hear the thundering rain or the whistle of the wind through your ringing ears. You can barely even register your pounding hearbeat. All you can see, hear, feel… is Tommy. Those warm hands pulling you into a strong hug. The frantic beating of his heart from his solid but warm chest. Home. It feels like home. 

“Y/N?! Y/N!? You okay, darling?!” You struggle to answer, overwhelmed by the emotions running rampant through your body. 

Tommy rises with you pressed against him, pulling you into the open again. As you feel the full force of the rain again, the world centres around you and the chaos of the weather reigns over your senses once more.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit shocked is all.” You can hear how dazed you sound. Tommy looks down at you and curses. He pulls you back from the car, quickly opening your door and ushering you in. He turns around and runs around the car, getting in himself and quickly starting the engine. His hair is soaked and he runs his hand through it, trying to tame it before driving off. You just continue to look at him, unbelieving of the experience you just had. You ignore the bodies of the punks as he goes down the road towards your street. You ignore the body of the beefy goon whose head has practically vanished underneath a bloody brick. You can only focus on him. 

“Do you have a first aid kit at your house?” You don’t hear him at first. It’s only when he looks at you again that you snap out of your reverie. He repeats the question. 

“Yeah, yeah. I have one, it’s there for my father.”

“Your father ain’t the one I’m worryin’ ‘bout right now. I need to fix you up, your cheeks’ bleeding.”

It is? Your hand reaches up, stroking lightly. You feel a sting. Lo and behold, when you move it back, there’s a smudge of blood on your fingertips. 

“That fucker was wearing rings. They cut your fuckin’ face!” Tommy is angry- really angry. Though your cheek is bleeding, you can feel that it’s nothing to worry about. You attempt to calm him down. 

“Tommy, it’s fine. It’s just a-”

“That ain’t the point darling!” His fingers grip the steering wheel tighter, his mouth a grimace. You can practically hear his teeth grinding together. “I don’t like seeing women hurt. Especially y-” He suddenly stops talking. You look at him but he refuses to meet your eyes. 

“Especially who Tommy?”

“It doesn't matter. We’re here.” He jumps out the car before you can say anything more, quickly running round to your door. You limp slightly as you get out, the grazes making your legs ache with the pain. Before you even know what’s happening, you're suddenly in Tommy’s arms as he runs up the driveway of your home. You open your mouth to protest, but his arms grip you tighter, pulling you just slightly more into his chest. Why not enjoy it?

Once you reach the door, Tommy takes your keys from you and swiftly opens the door, carrying you to the couch in your living room. He goes to retrieve the first aid kit after closing the door, while you struggle out of his now soaked coat. You leave it hanging over the side of the armchair facing you. 

Tommy re-enters the room moments later, already routing through the kit. Thankfully, you only have the minor cut on your cheek and some grazes on your hands and knees from where you fell, so they only need to be cleaned and covered. 

He falls into a crouch before you, unrolling some cloth as he does so. Neither of you speak as he adds a dab of alcohol to the material, the weight of the conversation in the car still hanging heavily between you. When he reaches up to start dabbing at your cheek, there’s no way of escaping looking at each other. 

“Thank you Tommy. Not just for helping me deal with those goons. But for looking after me too.” He breaths deep, looking away from you as he adds more alcohol. He doesn’t say anything, so you continue. “I’ve never really had someone look after me like this before. Apart from my father, my experience with men is little to none.”

Tommy sighs, his hand dropping from your face. “Y/N, I-”

“Please. Let me finish.” You say it softly, almost a whisper. He purses his lips, but nods at you to continue. 

“I know you don’t think you have much to offer. I also know that we’ve only known each other for a few hours. But the way you made me feel tonight Tom….” You shrug, looking down at your fidgeting hands. “I haven’t ever felt this way before- like someone cares about me.”

You pull at your fingers in your nervousness, but his hand stops you, gently holding your hands between his. He rubs slightly at your skin with his thumb. 

“I’ve never really joked with another girl, like I did with you tonight. Usually, it’s my buddies takin’ the piss outta me. It was… nice.” You let out a scoff before you can stop yourself, swinging your face back up. Tommy looks off to the side with a reminiscent smile. 

“Nice? That’s it?” He laughs quietly at your response. He looks into your eyes and you swear you can see the battle taking place in his mind through those pools of burnished gold. 

“Fine. It was better than nice.” You nod, pleased and he just sends you one of his smirks, his eyebrow raised. 

“You really impressed me when you knocked that guy out. You also scared the shit outta me when I saw you fall to the floor after that punk…” he breathes deep unable to finish his sentence. Unconsciously, your hand reaches out and cups his face. You can feel his day old stubble beneath your fingers as you slightly caress his cheek to comfort him. His own hand reaches up and covers yours. 

“I ain’t ever been that worried about a dame before. It… scared me in a way.” 

“What are you saying Tommy?” You ask, stroking his cheek gently. 

“It ain’t obvious?”

“It is. I just wanna hear you say it.” You practically beam at him. He jokingly sighs, then leans forward tilting his head slightly. 

“I’m saying Y/N, I think I wanna make you my girl.” You can’t help the wispy giddy laugh that escapes your chest. 

“I think I’d like that Tommy.”

This is really not how you thought this night was gonna go. He finishes cleaning up your wounds, then covers them. You’ll have some explaining to do to your father tomorrow no doubt. Tommy rises to dispose of the stained cloth, walking to the door after helping you up from the couch. As he opens it, you suddenly realise you’ve left his coat on the arm chair. You turn to retrieve it, but his hand quickly grabs your wrist. You look at him in confusion but he just smiles michievlosuly. 

“You can bring my coat back to Salieri’s tomorrow. I’ll return yours. Then I’ll take you out. To the pictures maybe. I might even get ya some flowers.”

Oh, he’s smooth. You shake your head and lean up, placing a quick kiss on his cheek. You can’t contain the giddy feeling that spreads through your body when you see the blush painting his cheeks. “It’s a date.”

He grabs your hand, bowing again and kissing it. “Until tomorrow then maam”. You jokingly curtsy back. “Goodnight to you sir.”

He smiles one last time, then turns, hurriedly walking back to the car. You wait under the shelter of your porch until he drives off, giddily spinning when you see him leave the road. If you neighbours can for some reason see you, you don’t have it in you to care. You’re in a bubble of happiness right now and nothing is going to burst it.

After locking your door, you walk to the couch and pick up Tommy’s coat. Even wet, his smell still clings to it and you can’t help pulling it up to your nose and taking a whiff. Just the scent alone makes you feel warm and safe. You bring it up the stairs with you, quickly checking in on your sleeping father, before going to your own room. 

You leave Tommy’s coat to dry in the bathroom, touching it every so often as you get ready to go to bed. When you finally crawl between the sheets, you can still smell cigarettes and whisky. 

As you fall into slumber, your dreams consist only of golden eyes and a warm embrace.

---

Thank you for reading minxies! If it’s too long or boring, I’m sorry. I really just wrote with this one... (Unedited)

#mafia definitive edition #mafia remake #mafia #mafia 1 #tommy angelo #tommy angelo x reader #TommyHoes #writtenbyme

[gyromitra-esculenta]

Dumpster Fire

Yeah, I made a threat I’m going to finish it today (actually tomorrow ‘cos it’s 3am rn for me), so here’s the thing, semi-fill for PF prompt, off-shoot of Said and Done (if they didn’t exactly reconcile).

Warnings: Crack treated seriously, some amount of safe violence, and love/hate sexy-times (so not exactly safe for everywhere?)

*

Gabriel reformed to what felt like an elbow in his neck and a blade in his liver, which, by the virtue of itself, served as a stark reminder that Jack Morrison, contrary to his public image, rarely - if ever - fought in a way that could be considered fair and square.

It had been endearing once. Now, it was far beyond infuriating.

"A trashcan." Any other person would find it impossible to project their voice with their trachea being actively crushed, and Gabriel poured all of his now quite acute resentment into the word.

"I know..." Gabriel was deeply thankful for whatever deity that listened for the gloves, otherwise, that finger in his eye would be tipped with a blunt and bitten nail. "...my dumpsters!"

"That's why you have mac'n'cheese in your hair?"

And there went his knee, with a crack.

"Accidents at work happen," Jack hissed, twisting, and going for the gold. Little adjustment redirected that one to the thigh. It still hurt. Gabriel swore under his breath and went in for the kill. Which, at that moment, consisted of getting his hands on the little shit's neck. The resulting scuffle ended as suddenly as it began, this time in an uncomfortable silence punctuated by the creaking of the contents of the garbage bags under them and heavy breathing.

"Seriously?" Jack wheezed out as Gabriel still had his thumbs pressed into his throat.

"You, of all people," Gabriel articulated with care trying to somehow diffuse the surprisingly viscerally uncomfortable situation he found himself in, even entertaining for a moment ghosting away, "should be well aware it's an autonomous response that has nothing to..."

"Bullshit. Anyone else, yeah, but not yo..." Jack wheezed and croaked when Gabriel cut off his air entirely (on the reflex, honestly, but at least it had done away with the blabbing) - to which Jack reacted by shifting and dragging his thigh deliberately against the front of his trousers. They stared at each other in the darkness illuminated only by the sliver of light getting in through the unsealed crack under the lid of the dumpster, Jack going slightly red in the face due to the lack of oxygen, and Gabriel running equations on the time he had left now.

"Fast one," he ground out easing his hands off Jack's neck.

"Always a fast one with you."

At least, to his relief, the knife was out of his liver as Jack frantically started undoing his own belt. This had to be the new low - and the testament to how his standards took a dramatic nosedive somewhere there in the span of recent years - because dumpster sex had never been on the table before, and even the mouthing off didn't curb his unexpected enthusiasm.

The pant leg somehow hitting him in the face despite there being barely any space between them also reminded him of two facts: out of the two of them, Jack had always been the nimbler one, and he still went commando - which sent a shiver of conflicting emotions down his spine. Because, the possibility of a zip-up mishap and the chafing on the seams were far from enticing any way you spun them.

"Could you shut the fuck up with your internal monologue and fuck me already?" Jack, the little shit he was invariably, hissed, hooking his free leg on his hip. And to no surprise to Gabriel, the nanites were more than happy to take cues from the overexcited lizard brain rendering him already pantsless, which was a thing to look into – later, since Jack's ankles locked behind his back like a vice - god, those legs were deadly on their own

"So, are we..." Gabriel's hand, out of the long-standing instinct, moved to cover his mouth, and the little shit continued to mumble undeterred anyway with a smirk he felt against his palm.

"Shut up," Gabriel hissed, helping himself with the other hand. If he still needed to breathe out of the necessity and not out of the force of the habit, all the air would go out of his lungs with the sheer force the aforementioned legs tensed against his sides trying their best to break half of his ribs. Which spoke volumes because Jack, biting down on his palm now, was more than capable of achieving just that, as one unfortunate accident before did prove it beyond there being any shadow of a doubt, and made for some awkward explaining as to how an injury like that could be acquired. Getting unluckily stuck between two moving tanks wasn't that much of a lie, either, at least according to Gabriel.

After a few shallow thrusts, he felt the rigidity threatening grievous harm morph into fluid tension moving together with him, and gloved fingers dug into his back. The teeth biting into the meat of his palm slackened as he picked up the pace and Gabriel slipped two of his fingers into the burning hot mouth, pressing on the tongue fighting against the intrusion. Jack threw his head back with a guttural whine, exposing what little of his neck peeked above the line of the nanopadding for Gabriel to lean down and graze his lips over the jugular - just about now thinking he could afford to spend a bit more time on this, earlier arrangements be damned.

Especially with the muffled sounds Jack was making around his fingers and how he arched his spine like no-one his age should be able to do comfortably without throwing out their back when Gabriel bit down none too gently above the vein.

Yeah. Fuck prior arrangements.

And as soon as he decided on it, the lid of the dumpster was lifted.

"Guys. Not that I'm judging anyone here, but I'm judging so hard right now that I've never ever judged anyone more in my life before," Sombra enunciated slowly and forcibly.

There had to be, surely, a more embarrassing occurrence than this in his life before because Gabriel adamantly denied the possibility of being discovered having sex in a goddamn trashcan as the nadir of his existence. Didn't help Jack chose this moment to lick his fingers.

He weighed the prospects.

"Ten minutes."

Jack pulled his hand away from his mouth stretching a string of saliva between his lips and Gabriel's fingers - and only then it hit him how fucking unhygienic the whole ordeal was.

"Three to five, tops."

Little. Fucking. Shit.

No-one caught in flagrante delicto in current circumstances had any fucking business looking so smugly nonplussed.

"Make it fifteen," Gabriel ground out through clenched teeth and shut the lid back with enough force Sombra had to jump back to evade having her hand crushed.

After a seemingly uncoordinated tussle inside and some swearing, the dumpster's legs returned to ever so conspicuously leaving grooves in the dirt. Sombra opened her cigarette case and treated herself to one old-fashioned smoke - lighting it with the tip of her finger.

She would be lying trying to insist this - this namely being finding her co-worker of sorts love-hate banging his old flame of sorts in a garbage container - pinged as anything more than a medium blip on her morbid radar.

There were worse things out there, certainly, and most of them she had on tape.

At the twelve-minute mark out of the promised fifteen, Sombra was halfway into her second cigarette when the shaking was joined by the awful squeaking crescendo of metal on the concrete.

And then, it just stopped. Ah, blessed sil...

The dumpster literally jumped up several centimeters into the air to the accompaniment of an ungodly screeching yowl coming from its depths.

Mere seconds later, former Strike Commander crawled out of the container - falling face-first into the dirt together with his gun - but miraculously somehow managing to pull up his pants mid-flight before the landing. Had to hurt, Sombra mused, extending her hand. Morrison sprung to his feet, deposited the databank into her waiting palm, and immediately took off running down the alleyway, zipping up his fly on the way before going into feet-first slide straight into a basement window, pulling the hatch closed right behind him. Stylish.

Would be ten out of ten, if her enhanced hearing hadn't caught what sounded like him hitting several metal drums. As it was, eight and a half.

The dumpster's lid shot open with a potent clang, letting out an angrily hissing nanite cloud with an obvious grudge.

"Where is he?" Gabriel seethed after he reformed in full gear, shotguns and fingers twitching on the triggers included. She craned her neck at him.

"Who?" As ostentatiously as possible, Sombra put the databank in her pocket. "Also, there's macaroni falling out of your hood."

Gabriel closed his eyes and took a few calming breaths, purely for psychological benefits.

"I hate both of you."

#sometimes I write #reaper76 #r76 #said and done #what even is this #crack it's crack