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the-hinky-panda · 15 days ago

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Vice: Part I

Title: Vice

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Armand Truisi x Fem!Reader

Summary: Twenty five years after Armand left you in New York, you find your way to Tulsa. Both of you have lived your lives, but you have some secrets from that time apart that may be too dark for love to overcome this time.

It’s your third night in Tulsa when there’s a knock at your hotel room door. When you move the curtain aside to see who your visitor is, you’re surprised it took him this long to show up. You had crossed paths a couple times these last few days but you refused to engage with him. The confrontation was going to happen eventually and it looks like now is the time. You slide the chain on the lock and open the door, leaning against the frame to keep him from coming inside the room.

“Armand.”

His dark eyes rove over your face, scanning, and trying to figure out exactly what you’re thinking. “At least you’re fucking talking to me now.”

“This is your warning to turn around and leave because if we continue this conversation, you’re not going to like what I have to say.”

He fiddles with the turquoise ring on his hand. “I’d rather hear about it, whatever it is, then you just fucking ignoring me every time I see you.” He pauses for a moment. “It’s been over twenty fucking years. I’ve missed you. Honest to God.”

“The fucking balls on you.”

He raises his eyebrows. “The fucking balls on me? I just said that I missed you, want to talk to you, find out what the last twenty fucking years have been like for you, and this is the attitude I get? The fuck are you so angry about?”

You don’t budge an inch. “Must be nice to forget about a fifty thousand dollar debt. Especially when someone else is the one that has to pay it off.”

Armand shakes his head. “What debt? What the fuck are you talking-”

“Hey!” A door opens about three rooms down and a man in a bathrobe leans out the door. “Take it inside! I got kids in here!”

You wave at the guy. “Sorry! He’s leaving.” You turn back to Armand and give him the middle finger. “Fuck off!”

You slam the door in his face and expect him to walk away. Twenty years ago, that’s what he would have done. But he starts pounding on the door. Incessantly. Loudly. And it takes you by surprise slightly.

“Open this fucking door, Finn!” He hits it door with his fist three more times. “I want to know what this fucking debt is!”

The thought crosses your mind that he may be telling the truth. The fact that he didn’t just walk away, that he keeps asking about it, it’s making you question some things. A lot of things, actually.

“Yo! I’m calling the cops!” Someone yells from another room.

“Go ahead,” Armand shouts back. “Call the fucking cops!”

“Fuck,” you mutter as you open the door again. “Armand, get the fuck in here.”

***

Armand knows he’s walking into a minefield when he enters the hotel room. He closes the door behind him but stays there. Your anger is still very tangible in the small space and he wants to respect that because he doesn’t understand the source of it. He wants to know what this debt is that you keep bringing up and you won’t tell him about it if you’re still enraged. He keeps fiddling with his ring, trying to figure out how to defuse this bomb after twenty plus years.

You’re on the other side of the room, snapping clothes, folding them with military-like precision before putting them in your suitcase that’s laid out on the bed. It’s been twenty-five years and you’re just as beautiful as the day he left New York. Your face is sharper, thinner and your eyes…it hurts him to look at your eyes. There is no warmth, no teasing sparkle anymore and he doesn’t know if that’s because of him or some other reason.

“So, you going to say anything or just stand there?”

“There was a hit on Dwight.”

You go stone still for half a second. It looks like a glitch in a computer program. “What did you say?”

“The reason why I left New York, it was because Pete put a hit on Dwight when he got the twenty-five year sentence. I tried to warn him, tried calling him, but I wasn’t on some fucking list so they didn’t put me through. And then I got thinking, if they were going to kill Dwight, what was going to stop them from coming after me. I, uh, I was there, at the building fire.”

“And that’s the reason you left New York, Pete put a hit on Dwight.” You slide a pair of shoes along the sides of your suitcase. “No other reason, Armand?”

“I was afraid they were going to kill me for being there, for knowing what really happened.” He raises his hand. “On my kids eyes, I swear to you that’s the truth.”

You shake your head and let out a short laugh. “Your kids, huh?”

“Finn, I’m begging you here.” He brings his hands together, palms pressing against each other with the force of his sincerity to hear whatever it is you have to say. “What debt are you talking about?”

You’re waffling, you have a tell. You tap your fingertips together like you’re doing morse code. You used to do it in the pub whenever a customer would try hitting on you and you were constructing the severity of your “not interested” statement. He spent hours watching the same thing happen over and over knowing that he was the one that would walk out with you when the bar closed. He missed those early morning walks through Brooklyn, especially during the fall and winter when you would tuck yourself under his arm. There’s an ache in his chest now remembering those times. You slam your suitcase shut and zip it closed and it draws his attention back to your less chilly demeanor.

“I was told that you left New York with $50,000 that you stole from the Invernizzi family. They told me…” you pause and take a deep breath. “They accused me of being in on it, that the money that was taken was the kick up fees from the pub.”

“Who told you that?”

“Chickie.”

Fucking Chickie. He feels sick now and has to lean back against the door. He knows what happens to people who are left on the hook for other people's debts. The fact that you’re still alive, still standing in front of him, can only be a testament to the hell they must have put you through.

“Finn.”

“What?”

He closes his eyes and braces himself. “There was no debt.”

The silence in the room is absolutely terrifying. He opens his eyes just in time to duck the water glass that you’ve thrown at his head.

#armand truisi x reader #armand truisi x you #armand truisi fic #armand truisi #tulsa king fic

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bullet-prooflove · 1 month ago

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Edibles: Armand Truisi x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989

Armand has a hard time relaxing, you see the stress he carries, the way it pushes down on his shoulders day after day. He has an ex-wife and two boys to fend for, an envelope he needs to be delivered on a weekly basis and you…

He has you.

The girl who comes around with the gummies when the pressure gets a little too much to vent and your usual methods of stress relief don’t cut it.

Tonight, you place one on his tongue as you straddle his hips on the couch. The flavour bursts on his tastebuds as your fingers thread through his unruly curls. You tug his head back and a low moan erupts from his throat as you kiss his lips. He tastes like wild berries, like the first blush of seasonal fruit in the fall. His hips arch up against your core, grinding against you as his fists grasp the fabric of your dress, keeping you situated in just the right place.

“In thirty minutes you’re gonna be so relaxed baby.” You whisper as you begin to unbutton his shirt.

The material falls away from his skin, revealing his firm, tanned chest. Your fingertips trail over the dusting of dark hair until they come to linger on his belt buckle. You unfasten his jeans, guiding the denim and his underwear gently over his hips, his dick jutting out, already hard, already leaking. You slip from his lap onto your knees and his head tips back into the sofa cushion, a ragged cry tearing from his throat as your tongue licks up that perfect drop of pre-cum beading on the head of his cock.

“Oh mi alma.” He whispers, the editable kicking in as his hands plunge into your hair. “You always know how to take such good care of me.”

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#Armand Truisi #Armand Truisi x reader #Armand tulsa king #tulsa king #max casella

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the-hinky-panda · 2 years ago

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