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𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗩𝗢𝗜𝗥 𝗗𝗢𝗚𝗦 (𝟭𝟵𝟴𝟳)

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𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗧 𝗕𝗢𝗬𝗦 (𝟭𝟵𝟵𝟮)

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

𝗦𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗙𝗔𝗖𝗘 (𝟭𝟵𝟴𝟯)

*a deprived tony purring between your legs

*tony coming home to you…on his knees

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𝗖𝗔𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗢 (𝟭𝟵𝟵𝟱)

consoling an anxious ace

vic basically had his finger already on the trigger from the first glance. maybe it wasn’t on his actual gun, but he was sweating to bend a few fingers back, maybe fracture a brow bone with the gruff snap of his elbow. you knew he was a little…off. as he stirred his coffee, he didn’t even crack a joke. no matter how much you flashed him your smile, he could only watch that fuckin’ guy.

the guy at the counter. he’d been eyeing you up the minute he touched the barstool. and when you leaned over the counter to take his order (you couldn’t quite hear him well), he switched his toothpick to the other side of his mouth, tongue swirling out like a clue to what was next if you wanted it.

you didn’t.

you smile at the guy to be polite, but you’re hotter than hell feeling vic’s eyes on your back as you move around. you hope he’d have mercy on you, right? you can’t help what a sleazy guy says to you on the job! you swipe a clammy hand against your apron and shake a few strands of hair from your eyes.

“any dessert for you tonight, sir?” you ask, already full of regret as he fixes his grubby face to sneer at you.

“i don’t know…with the taste i’m craving, im not sure i’ll find anything sweeter than you, doll,” he purrs, the toothpick rolling slowly around. you don’t dispute him, just nod awkwardly as your face flushed red. you quickly force him on another waitress to get his check, but vic had already burned through three cigarettes.

the minutes between punching your time card and the descent into your desperate weeping was a blur. the weight of vic’s hand as its heel pressed into the back of your head kept your face disgraced to the wet pillow as he pounded into your sopping cunt like a maniac running.

he had very little words for you when you’d gotten in his car. he had very little words for you now, he just shoved you around like a little rag doll as you pleaded your case until you were naked and quivering beneath him on his bed. you were willing to do anything to prove he’d nothing to worry about.

the tug on your hair caused your head to leap back with ease. the sting in your scalp tensed your shoulder blades, but with his breath running hot along your ear, the rest of you…the rest of you melted deeper into the desire to be ruined.

“i shouldn’t have to remind you who you belong to.”

“n-never…he’s nobody vic…” you cough, attempting to drag your tear-stricken face against his mouth, wanting something… a kiss? but he pushes you back down, his other hand now spread on your lower back to stabilize himself. he adjusted his thrusts. now a painfully slow pace that made your walls squeeze ardently, needy and craving all of his length. you cry out with a hoarseness, another surge of tears streaking down your cheeks.

from above you, you hear his voice lace with reprehension. “whose pussy is this?”

“you…yours, yours, yours, yours, yours, baby…vic…” you babbled meekly, tongue slurring, eyes squeezing shut.

vic’s cock suddenly ran deeper at the gratification of your answer, a stroke so full of vitriol and force, your whole body spasmed. you couldn’t even breathe.

anyyyy any any any pet name has your face bright red,

sometimes you giggle, or give him a little whack

most times you gaze away with a closed mouth, the sweetest smile

he pulls your face back to him, cigarette lit between his fingers that he’ll use so deftly on you later

he usually orders for you at restaurants , drive-ins , whatever—he loves it

holds you by the waist in public, he’s got a hand on you at all times it seems

with the dogs or just out with him, he’s usually guarding you but not even possessively, he’ll just want you to feel safe

like at one of your favorite bars or lounges, you’ll nurse your little cocktail, curled up under his arm

& he especially won’t take anybody making eyes or comments about you, he’ll get crazy over the slightest wrong glance

he has to dip down low sometimes to kiss you cuz he’s so big

if you’re in public you always cover the both of your mouths and wrinkle your nose or pull away as soon as you can

but he doesn’t pick a fight over it!!! he knows the kind of kissing he’ll get when you’re home

one thing he won’t compromise on though… his i love yous

“love you, baby” he’d say

“i love you, vic…” you’d reply oh so quietly

and his eyebrow would turn up, his finger held behind his ear as if to tune it “what was that? i…uh…i didn’t quite hear you…”

and don’t make him ask you twice to speak up! he’ll tear your ass up no questions asked

orange had gauged some…suspicious activity between blonde and an unnamed woman a couple of weeks back at the diner. he watched the two of them in the parking lot, vic passing a white envelope with a stack of cash to her after a job. she snatched it without a word. maybe it was her hurrying off, maybe it was the wordless exchange, or the fact he had to do it in secret that set freddy off, but he was off. he took down her license plate number the next time they met up at the diner, and found everything about her. this could be a real in for him. the police department wasn’t yet satisfied with anything orange brought them back about joe, his new boss…so why not dig into this guy’s pawns?

orange was sweating bricks circling my around her apartment, waiting for the moment to strike. excitement fizzled in him as he finally spotted her car coming down the drive, beaming in the sunlight as she paralleled outside her address. just like what the records at the station showed.

after making another round to avoid suspicion, he slowly pulled up behind her. noticing she hadn’t gotten out of her car yet, he did the honors of performing his nonchalant act, digging his hands in the pockets of his jeans, whistling a broken tune, and staring at the other buildings. just a local renter wanting to see if any open houses were holding in the area…he’d always wanted to move down here, yada yada yada. vic’s woman, who had already eyed orange as he cruised behind her, scoffed tiredly.

she stepped out of her car and veered around, eyes on his backside without a lick of admiration attached. another letter envelope, fat with wads of hard cash, was tucked under her arm. “why are you following me, cop?”

freddy felt his whistle dive right back into his nutsack. stiff in the legs suddenly, he whipped around and found himself looking right at his target, sunglasses covering her sun-kissed face.

“me?” freddy stammered, “i’m not follo-“

she smirked, it stopped him dead. “so you are a cop?” she spat, then switched weight onto her other hip, “listen, i’m not a part of whatever vic has going on. i just have his baby.”

her words were as certain as the grave and orange barely had time to process the syllables before she beelined around him, parading to her front door. had she been noticing him watching her and vic? who tipped her off? what if she could blow his cover? and…

“b-baby?” orange squeaked. their eyes found each other again. orange tried to see hers through her shades.

“yeah. i got fucked. no condom.” she rolled her neck and blinked a few times, dead serious. and orange laughed, in an obviously uncomfortable manner. as if he wanted to say you don’t need to spell it out for me… but she didn't relent. instead, she rolled her eyes and played harder, “oh who am i kidding? you’ve probably never been laid.”

“hey-“ freddy furrowed his brow and lurched forward.

she raised her eyebrow. a challenge? a threat? orange peeled back again. softened his stance. the last thing he needed was to be jumped right here in broad daylight by whatever company this broad keeps.

“he’s just giving me money to pay for his kid. isn’t that what good guys do?” orange said nothing. she sucked her teeth. “i mean,” she threw her arm to the wind, “how the hell he gets it i don’t know nor give a fuck. so… if you want to pin him down for something, you won’t find it here. at least i won’t help you.”

orange gave a taut nod, cordial, but embarrassed by his mistake. of course, he’d never admit it, so he just flashed a smile to her as she entered her vestibule before offering one last gesture.

“thanks for your help, miss…?”

from the moment he stepped through the front door, you could hear him buzzing. another dirty deal, another drug, another late night at the club. it colored his footsteps, filled him with a drunken gaul. you could even see the twinkle in his eye that he hoped would be yours by the end of the night. and as he looked up at you, his goddess gleaming from the top of the staircase, he smiled with his biggest pride. he stumbled toward the stairs, goofily removing an arm from his sports jacket and shaking it off the other.

“pussycat,” he slurred, still moving. “bébé…”

“where’ve you been, tony?” your freshly painted nails, bloody red, twinkle under the kiss of your chandelier as you remove a hand from the banister and cross your arms defiantly.

“coming home to you, beautiful…” he takes another step, his manly hand grabbing hold of the stair’s marble rail. “coming-“

“ah!” you raise your finger, wagging it. he screeches to a halt in an instant, bent over now like you’d just taken his screw out of his back. his bright eyes went from joy to near embarrassment. “tony…” his name came out of your throat like a tsk, but sweeter. he tilts his head toward you, completely yours.

“what is it, my love? what did i do?”

your finger bends slowly down, the stiletto sharpness of your nail making a harsh pointed arrow.

“down,” you command. he lowers with a slow, but tantalized force, smiling at you.

from here he can see your high heels peaking out beneath your floor length robe. the pink fur hem waving sweetly just below your ankles. it didn’t take him long at all, only a split second, to begin to visualize all the more that was awaiting him and he bows his head to you. his desire revs in his pants like a motor, the rest of his body going hot as his knee meets the first step.