#Gianna Valentina Moretti DeLuca | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ikea-dollies · 5 months

Text

Animals.

words: 2.6k~ cw: mafia and other matters of the sort (drugs, alcohol, gambling, etc.), smut smut smut, piv (unprotected), the worst relationship in the world (but fr this time), toxicity, hate, enemies to fuck buddies, BIGGGG age gap (25&50) a/n: You know me. This is not Proofread.

Fates cross and the two worst people to have ever laid foot in New York City are suddenly tangled in each other's webs...

(Very inspired by Animals by Maroon 5)

The social club looked like it could be taken out straight from the 1920s: wood panneling all over the walls, leather chairs, sofas and armchairs....

A large bar counter with two impeccably dressed bartenders behind them, in suits and bowties, preparing cocktails and drinks poured nearly straight from the expensive thousand-dollars-worth liquor bottles.

A jazz band playing in the corner stage, a few blackjack and roulette tables in the further back of the room, elite only, away from prying eyes.

The bar takes cards, for everything else, it's live cash or checks. And people make sure to play like they intend on losing their entire fortune. It's more fun that way.

Champagne coupes, whiskey tumblers, cigars aplenty... Maybe even a bit of cocaine, for the more adventurous ones... And, of course, escorts galore.

Men in suits lounging all around, young women in slinky dresses perching on their knees, greedy male hands smoothing over the smalls of their backs, the crooks of their waists, around the soft skin of their thighs, their arms, their necks, their hair.

Protection details and henchmen were left at the door, like dogs tied on a pole outside the bodega in the corner. Guns and knives are checked with the bags and coats. Neutral territory, they call it.

Incardo Lozada Buffonge sits in a leather couch in the corner, a pretty blonde woman sitting on his lap. She's foreign, speaks little English, smiles too much, fidgets with his tie and lets him grope her to his will.

His dark hair is slicked back, his suit, Armani, white on white, polished shoes reflecting the yellow tones of the vintage lamps and candelabras that light the space in warm tones.

To his right, Amarion Bindo Gerardo, his second-in-command, black on black, matching the boss, but the complete opposite of him. They talk in hushed whispers, drinking and looking around, taking note of adversaries, rivals, acquaintances and the rare ally.

The room isn't too full, but the event is still a real who's who of the underground business. Mob bosses, corrupt politicians, military leaders and law agents, cartel bosses, Yakuza, Triad, Bratva... Anyone that has stakes in the crime syndicates of New York City is present.

Incardo's eyes find their way across the room to the blackjack table. From where he's sitting, he can see her from the side. Sitting dead center, across from the card dealer, arms resting on the edge, holding her set of cards.

Long, sleek brown hair, tied back into a half-up, half-down hairstyle, long slender arms, longer slender legs, a tan that is, in no way, artificial, wearing an off-white dress, corsetted up top but loose around the legs, with a slit that gives a tantalizing view of her thigh.

She's young. He wouldn't put her a day over 25. And she's beautiful. Beautiful enough for him to want. Same with any other young, beautiful woman he sets his eyes on. Good for a night or two and never again.

But she's not like the escorts around the room, which are free for use by any of the men who want them. No, that woman... She carries he sophistication of a woman who was raised with money and not meant to entertain the men around her, like the others, poor things, much akin to a pig in a dress.

She's in the big boy leagues. If nothing else, he could tell from her outfit, a dress that has to have cost thousands of dollars, gold jewelry and make-up a plenty... But there's also the fact she has her own advisor standing behind her, one he recognized from many of these events in the past, though the name escapes him.

"That one-" Incardo murmurs and uses his chin to gesture toward her vaguely, bringing his glass of red wine up to his mouth.

Amarion glances over to the woman Incardo pointed out. "That's... Tony DeLuca's daughter, I believe."

"Ah." Incardo tuts in acknowledgment and nods his head. "Sure doesn't look it."

"Takes after her mother." Amarion replies as he looks between the brunette and Incardo. "Not a concern for us. Have no business to conduct with them. She's just here representing her old man."

"Hm..." Incardo murmurs and nods, pondering the sight of the pretty woman that kept playing Blackjack with the men around her. Japanese on one side, Russian on the other, and another Italian, from a rival family, further down the table.

He noticed how her eyes, surrounded by sparkly make-up, green and bright, shifty and vixen-like moved about the table, noting everyone's expressions, noting the dealer's movements... Watched everyone receive their new cards.

And then she suddenly bets big, pushing her own pile of chips forward, straightening her back, her eyes catching the other men's... None of them backed out. They never did...

So, as they flipped the cards over and she showed her hand, the men around the table immediately groaned and 'tsked'. "Pleasure doing business with you, gentlemen." She announced. "Better luck next time, ah?" She teased them and smiled broadly.

Then, she got up and leaned forward, wrapping her slender arms around the stacks of chips and bringing them toward her seat, a satisfied, smug smirk on her plump, shiny lips.

She turned to her consigliere, an older man with grey hair that he'd seen accompany her father and her brothers to events like this before, and gestured vaguely for him to keep her chips.

Then, she slipped out of her stool and crossed the room toward the bar. Incardo saw his opportunity in it. He kept looking at her, eyes locked on her, her body, her smooth skin, her polished red-bottom heels...

Once she turned away from the bar with a drink in hand, he was surprised to find her with a couple of lowball glasses with a yellow-ish liquid in it. Amaretto, most likely, if he knew his Italian alcohol well.

She returned to her consigliere and offered one of the drinks to him, who gave her an almost paternal look, as if implying 'Are you trying to get me drunk?'. She returned an impish smile, which caused the man to sigh and take it, before thanking her with a reverential nod of his head.

The consigliere's brown eyes then slid over to Incardo, finding him sitting and staring at them. At her. Leaning his head down, he spoke softly to the young mafia princess and she turned to look over her bare shoulder at him.

She raised her drink in an act of greeting and cheers, from a distance, and he returned the gesture with his own glass of wine. He watched her take a sip of her drink, eyes still locked on him, from the corner of her eye.

After he watched her take her drink, Incardo glanced at the blonde currently on his lap and waved her off. And then, with his newly freed hand he beckoned the young DeLuca girl closer.

The brunette nodded and approached, coming to stand across from him, her pointy louboutin pumps barely an inch away from his own polished dress shoes.

He sits with his thighs parted in a position of pure and absolute power, a smirk on his lips, tugging his left corner upward as he gives a once over, pleased that the pretty thing is submissive enough to come when called, like a good pup.

Incardo raises his hand, presenting the back of it and his fingers to her, a silent demand for her to show reverence and respect. 'Kiss my hand, little one, show everyone that although you're pretending to be a big girl, you're playing second fiddle to us all, especially me'.

Her green hued eyes slide down from his face, across his arm and down to the hand he was presenting to him. A thick gold ring with a large octagon cut purple musgravite embedded in the middle.

She recognized it for what it was. Nothing but a stupid test, a ball measuring contest, if you will, trying to see who had the biggest pair. Even if she couldn't see it, she could feel all eyes on the two of them. And, oh, Gianna was about to make him look bad.

She handed her drink over to her consigliere, then, took Incardo's hand carefully with both of hers, with all the reverence in the world as she raised it toward her mouth, her eyes locked on his brown ones, eyebrows set down over her eyelids, intense and bold...

But then, before his hand was even within range to kiss his ring, she lifted it, like she was about to perform a little twirl for him under his outstretched arm, and used it as a crutch to sit down beside him, leaning back on the couch, crossing her legs, her foot brushing against one of his pant legs.

Everyone else also watching seems to freeze in shock, the room having suddenly gone silent to witness the power play performed by her, happening live before them.

Incardo watched her take her seat boldly, without so much as a greeting, let alone an invitation, then, the corner of his lip rose higher, a sadistic smirk took over his mouth and he licked his lips, amused by the little girl beside him.

Incardo waves off his second-in-command from the armchair beside them, a silent dismissal, to be alone with her... Her consigliere also makes himself scarce, but not before returning her drink glass to her. That drives everyone else in the room to go back to their previous conversations.

"You're either bold or stupid, Ms. DeLuca." The man tells her, murmuring near her ear, an arm already snaking to wrap around the small of her back, coming to rest on the side of her waist, already digging in.

Gianna leans into him and dips her head to the side, nearly setting it on his shoulder, so she can look him in the eyes properly. "Not stupid in any way, I guarantee you, Mr. Lozada." She murmurs in reply, eyes sparkling in the low light, as she takes a sip of her amaretto sour.

"I know... Saw that little play of yours in the blackjack table... Counting cards is illegal, don't you know?" He teases her, almost like he's poking about in her mind, trying to see what makes her tick, what might embarrass her or upset her, and give him control.

"I wasn't counting cards... I'm just very observant... and good at guessing." Gianna lies as she looks right into his eyes, not even flinching or trembling or hesitating, a smug smirk on her plump lips.

"Just like I guessed you'd appreciate me not being a little sheep for you." She slid her free hand over his thigh, before she slid it up over his forearm, down his wrist, and onto his hand, her perfectly-manicured fingernail grazing his musgravite ring.

"So you're just a gambler, are you, doll?" Incardo teases, his hand sliding down from her waist, grazing her hip and onto her thigh, feeling the warmth of her skin through the slit in the cream-colored skirt of her dress.

"Could say that..." Gianna murmurs as she takes a sip of her drink again, biting the straw with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"How about a wager then, just the two of us?" Incardo teases her, his fingers digging onto the skin of her thigh, causing her to shiver ever so slightly.

"What would this wager of yours..." She replies as she rolls over toward him ever so slightly, her leg crossing over his thigh, wrapped around him like a snake coiling around its prey, her heeled foot rubbing against the inside of his white suit leg. "entail exactly?"

Incardo swallowed down the last sip of his red wine while pulling the young woman closer to his robust chest, her breasts pressing against the side panel of his blazer as he squeezes her closer.

"Just a moment of your time... I'd like to prove how stupid I can make a pretty, young thing like you feel and act." He taunts her, brown eyes locked on her beautiful green ones.

"Oh... Mr. Lozada..." She teases. "No man can make me stupid... But you're welcome to try... It'll be a pleasure to see you fail." She chuckles.

She was bold, confident, maybe too much so. Perhaps it was hubris from her young age, and lack of experience, Incardo was sure of.

But the smug smirk on her lips and the certainty on her voice was irresistible... especially when he knew he could have her mewl and croon under his touch whenever he wanted to.

"I never fail at anything, doll." He murmurs in reply.

"Guess you're going to start now."

"It's almost... adorable how sure you are of that, doll... I'll let you continue being delusional, it suits you..."

Gianna's plump lips simply upturned into an bold, broad smile, flashing him her pearly whites, her canines a bit too pointy... There was a mischievous glint in her green eyes... Like a cat that ate the canary.

Then, she untangled herself from his embrace and got up, but not before purposefully and slowly spilling her drink all the way down the front of his 3-piece suit, staining it with the bright yellow liquid.

He didn't react, he tried not to, at least, though his eyes told her directly that she was going to be taught a lesson sooner rather than later...

But she purposefully kissed the air at him and then turned and strutted off, disappearing beyond the doors leading to the large penthouse balcony outside.

And, for the first time in his life, Incardo got up from his seat and gave chase.

That's how they ended up tangled in each other. Each other's web, each other's arms, each other's beds.

As the sun set outside, bathing the balcony in hues of orange, shining off her dress, off her make-up, off their polished shoes...

Her legs hooked on each of his forearms, spread as wide as possible to allow his hip to fit between them, her arms wrapped around the back of his neck, fingers digging into his scalp amidst his long black hair...

She moaned and whined, her head rubbing back on the ivy-covered trellis wall that decorated the patio, her back definitely getting marks of the diamond-shaped wooden trellis behind her.

His fingers dug into the meat of her ass, squeezing and holding her up in his arms, his dick bullying into her slick, greedy cunt with each snap of his hips.

Incardo was still perfectly composed, his tie in place, his vest buttoned, although the blazer wasn't, his pants still fastened by the belt around his hip...

Were it not for the way he was grunting and huffing from a mix of pleasure and the mix of stamina + physical strength to continue holding her, nobody would guess he was even having primal sex with a girl half his age.

Meanwhile, he was definitely making a mess of her, Gianna's hair was wild, her lips parted, her eyes heavy and hooded, her dress rolled up as far as can go, her long, tan legs fully on display for anyone who looked their way...

But people in this world knew better than to pry.

So what if the 25-year-old daughter of Tony DeLuca, the biggest mobster in Jersey was currently being fucked silly by the 50-year-old boss of the empire left behind after Adalardo Dakota Buffonge was murdered?

So what if, before then, she proceeded to emasculate him in front of his peers by refusing to greet him with respect, and by spilling a drink down the front of his suit?

So what if, from here on out, he starts to play with her and her family's business, until she agrees to play nice for him and be the little doll, the little toy, he wants to play with?

So what if, no matter how much he tries, she never does become what he wants?

That doesn't concern anyone but the two of them.

#ikea writes 💚#ikea's dollies #dolly smut #dollyverse #my ocs #Gianna Valentina Moretti DeLuca

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