#Photographer Ari Levinson | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

onsunnyside · 1 year

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🍁≬ 𝐓𝐡�� 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 (𝟏/𝟐)

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | photographer!Ari Levinson x reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | glimpses of fluff, angst, old flames, childhood friends-to-loves aftermath, ex-boyfriend!Ari, size difference: 6’8!Ari.

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Even the most beautiful love stories are bound to end in tragedy, but you thought you and Ari would be an exception.

𝗪/𝗖 | 3.64K

𝗔/𝗡 | currently in my sad autumn girl era but i know it won’t last long so i wanted to share this with you all. sort of poured my heart into it and wrote most of this in a teary haze last night. Inspired by Taylor Swift’s songs: Sad Beautiful Tragic, Exile, All Too Well, The Last Time. [𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 | all asks]. All mistakes are my own.

˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Don’t look, don’t look, you force your eyes on the television mounted above the table, half listening to the chatter of your friends and the hushed music playing from the speakers.

A nudge brings your attention to your redheaded friend, “How have you been? You haven’t answered my texts.”

“Sorry, I’ve been working a lot.” The music shop didn’t get very busy, but Natasha didn’t need to know that you spent the past weeks buried in turmoil, revisiting every decision you’ve ever made that brought you here. “I also applied to the dance studio as an instructor, I’m still waiting for them to get back to me.”

Her green gaze pools with worry. Of course, you’d answer a question about how you were with what you were doing. She hated to pry, but she cared for you like a sister. If you were hurting, she wanted to put a stop to it, or talk about it and try to understand. She couldn’t do that if you refused to open up.

“If you want to leave, that’s fine, I’ll walk you out.”

“I’m okay, Nat. I wouldn’t have come if I couldn’t handle seeing him again.”

The both of you know that’s a bald-faced lie. Especially because you’ve done everything to not peek in his direction.

Natasha is drawn away by one of your other close friends, and they fall into an easy conversation with laughs and bright smiles. Their voices fade into each other, a blissful hum filling the loneliness that has clung to you.

I wouldn’t have come if I couldn’t handle seeing him again.

You spoke too soon.

Ever so slightly, you glance at the bar. Over the heads of the other patrons, his gaze meets yours. Deep blue, unreadable and sharp, piercing heavily through your face.

Seeing him now, he’s different. His hair is longer, his beard is thicker, and he’s dressed in clothes you’ve never seen before—apart from his signature leather jacket that he wore for most of the year.

You wonder if the way he carries himself all the same, with quiet grace and self-assurance, too often falling victim to his insecurities.

You missed him.

You missed his stupidly loud alarm clock, his cute bedhead and how he never failed to keep you warm on winter nights. You missed his endless rants about society, space and the world, past, present and future. His mind stretched into infinity, and you never always understood what he was saying, but you listened nonetheless. Listening was the best thing someone could do.

Your eyes fall on the loose and shaggy fabric around his neck. The cream knit was your first little home project, evident with the frayed threads and stubborn coffee stains. That single scarf took you a week because of your lack of experience. You worked on it everywhere, on the train, at work and the park. Your favourite place to knit was next to him as he hunched over his computer desk and went through hundreds of photographs with his glasses on the tip of his nose.

That was the one thing he didn’t mail back.

He goes around the table, handing out everyone’s selected drinks with greetings. “Sorry, I’m late. I got stuck at the studio with this last-minute family portrait session.”

“At least it wasn’t another self-proclaimed influencer.” Curtis snorts.

“Fuck no, thank goodness for that.” He laughs, almost too gleeful. When he gets to you, he simply sets the drink on the wooden countertop and flashes a tense smile.

It either took one or ten minutes for you to sip the drink before you rushed out the back door with an excuse about fresh air.

The cool, November air welcomes you with open arms as if it knew you wouldn’t last very long. You lean on the railing, distracting yourself with the red, orange and yellow trees across the way. The music and chatter fade into whispers, and the crickets and gentle wind take their place. Down below, the water ripples against the rocks, the wooden poles dark and green from the lake, another victim to time, just like everything else.

The fall season itself was a tale of death. The days got shorter because the sun comes and goes all too quickly and the leaves turn into different shades before falling to the ground. Bidding farewell in warm colour pallets and leave the trees bare, mere skeletons of life, dormant and dull.

Then, they’re reincarnated by spring. Brought back by more sunshine and warmth, blooming hues the world has longed for.

You wondered when your spring would come, or if you’d be trapped in perpetual autumn. Be forced to feel every part of you change into red, yellow or orange and fall until there is nothing left and you're in a barren comatose.

You stare down at your dress, the very one he said was his favourite. The soft blue silk is highlighted by the dim fairy lights hung up on the fence. Memories are woven into the fabric and they’re all good because you stopped wearing this dress when things got worse. With a brush of the lace hem, you’re reminded of him.

“I knew you’d look beautiful in this.”

“You have to stop buying me things, we have bills to pay.”

He scoffs, “bills aren’t going to help my girl realize how beautiful she is.” He takes your hand, pressing his plump lips on your knuckles, “I know it, the world knows it, but she doesn’t. And that isn’t okay with me.”

The door swings open and slams into the wall, making you jump.

“Oh shit, sorry!” His voice rings out, “Didn’t mean to scare you, I thought the door was heavier.”

You quickly wipe your eyes, not caring about your makeup anymore. You tried hard to look your best tonight and embody that healed person you’ve pretended to be for the past few weeks. But he couldn’t say hi or your name. Why couldn’t he say your name?

He tucks away his cigarettes, “You stay, I’ll go out front. You probably want to be alone.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m going to call a cab.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Natasha knows I have an early morning.” You keep it simple and duck away from his gaze, hugging your purse close as some sort of lifesaver that was keeping you from floating into the sky. Truthfully, you wouldn’t mind that abrupt escape after hearing his next words.

“Wait—I mean, I’ll wait with you. It’s too late for you to be outside by yourself.”

Your stride doesn’t slow, you hope he’ll get the hint and just go back inside, but with his mile-long legs, he easily catches up to you. His boots land heavily on the boardwalk and the buckles of his leather jacket chime, filling the strained silence.

“So, did you see that new cinema downtown?”

“Please don’t.”

He raises his arms in defence, a smile audible in his voice, “Sorry, I didn’t realize you hated movies.”

“Ari.” Your shoulders slump and the sorrow gets heavier. You swear the world could cave under your feet. “Don’t try to—” You cut yourself off, knowing if you didn’t get away now, you’d regret it, “I want to be alone right now.”

The pine trees sway in the breeze, surrounding you with their natural scent.

He takes one hesitant step back, nodding slowly. “Right, I’m probably the last person you want to see.”

He couldn’t be more wrong and that only worsened the pain. How could he think that when he was the only person you wanted to see every day for over a decade?

It stretches far back to when you were children and living down the street from each other.

How could he think that when you used to wait out on the porch for him to pass by so you could walk to school together? How could he think that when you’ve spent hundreds of hours writing about his face in your diaries, about how his smile could light up a stadium and how his eyes were endless pools of stories and wishes?

How could he?

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Ari’s features grow concerned as the hot tears stream down your cheeks. “It’s okay—” He reaches for you, gently grasping your hand.

“No, it’s not.” You try to shrug him off, not bothering to wipe your face. He knew you were crying out here anyway. He knew you more than he knew himself, so it wouldn’t surprise you if he also knew what you were thinking right now—where did he find the audacity to say it’s okay? “I’m sad—I’m still so sad. And you aren’t.”

Ari stiffens and releases your hand as if he’d been burned. His cerulean eyes are shaded by the night, and darkness bleeds onto his solemn face, “You think I’m not sad?”

You tearily blink, waving towards the bar by the lake. “You seemed pretty happy in there—and you acted like you didn’t even know me.”

Sure, you probably would’ve cried if he spoke to you, but at least he would have acknowledged you. You’d take that glimmer of attention over his silence any day.

“I was—I am heartbroken.” He confesses, his long hair falling over his forehead as he stares down at you, “I didn’t know if you wanted me to talk to you—”

“Yet you followed me out here anyway.”

Even in the moonlight, you can see his cheeks turn cherry red.

“Okay, but I was checking on you. I didn’t mean for this to happen and to make you cry.” He protests, “Am I not allowed to worry about you?”

You close your eyes and shake your head, turning on your heel to continue down the boardwalk. The main street mocks you in the distance, beckoning you with yellow streetlights and the chance to escape, but his fingers wrap around your wrist, holding tightly.

“Wait, please. I’m sorry.”

His touch is warm and familiar, the other end of the double-edged sword. On one end is the busy street, the carefree people living their lives on this fall evening, the cars driving by, and your bittersweet freedom—but also your lonely apartment with your cold, empty bed. The other end, the one entwining with your trembling fingers, is suffocatingly soft and inviting. Enticing you to stay and listen, but at what cost? Would it only bring more suffering draped in so-called closure or more confusion that your heart couldn’t take?

“Muse—”

“Don’t.”

He inhales deeply and you feel his breath on the back of your head. “I’m devastated, I’m alone, I’m stuck in this disordered loop that I don’t know how to get out of.” His grip constricts, once then twice but you force yourself to stay as unresponsive as a corpse. “You were my first for everything, I-I wanted you to be my last.”

You knew that and you wanted the same thing. You’ve discussed it countless nights in your shared bed, whispering about the possibilities that the great big world offered, from tamed to outlandish. Picking up a strange hobby, or travelling the globe, he even mentioned moving to a new country altogether, “think about it. A fresh start, just the two of us and unlimited options.”

“I wouldn’t say unlimited, unfamiliar sounds more accurate.”

“Pick a place, any place and I’ll make it happen.”

“What if I don’t tell you and just take off alone? Soak up all that freshness by myself.”

“Oh, then I’ll find you. I’ll follow you anywhere.”

Experiencing things for the first time together was a big part of your relationship. You were both painstakingly sentimental, which only made it harder to pack your things. Everything reminded you of what was or what could’ve been, you eventually decided to keep what you needed and throw out what carried tender nostalgia.

You never followed through with that, but you do avoid the many boxes stacked in your closet. Full of pictures, gifts, and anything that reminded you of him. That was where you found this dress.

From the seedlings of memorable firsts, it was inevitable that you two gave each other your first heartbreaks too.

The tears come back with vengeance, spilling down your heated cheeks, “You ended things.”

“You walked out!” He rushes to apologize, swerving in front of you before you could take another step. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Just please, listen to me.”

Why? He never listened to you in the end.

Whenever you brought up concerns about weird tension or the growing emptiness, he never listened. He was all about work and brushed off dates for last-minute gigs. You knew he wanted a greater future for the two of you, something better than your crowded apartment with your roommates (now the close friends in the bar), and something brighter than the stars combined.

You tried to understand and a part of you did, but the other part couldn’t take it anymore. The part that missed your boyfriend, missed your mindless conversations and quiet nights at home, and when he picked up that camera and photographed you like a piece of art.

That part of you won. You laid down your weapons and went defenceless into his line of fire, with only your heart in your hands and a rehearsed speech in your head.

You never made it all the way through because you two started arguing, right in front of your friends, spitting accusations fueled by rage and doubt, making each other into the bigger villain when it was always clear who was the culprit.

Even now, although you know it’s him, you wonder if you were an accomplice.

Childhood sweethearts turned college lovers, plenty of people have made it all the way—to whatever was their ideal. Many people have also given up, gotten tired, or fallen out of love.

You thought you and Ari were stronger than that, and you wouldn’t let the pressures of life, work, and school weigh onto your relationship. But in the end, those voices were always right, and your shared dreams were crushed at the hands of breakdowns, lost time, and agonizing lulls.

It was ironic how you’re haunted by voices while Ari rarely used his.

Ari wasn’t loud or interruptive. He was quiet and timid, and as he grew up, he slowly came out of his shell and matured into the tall, confident, and gentle giant in front of you.

When you were kids, he wrote adorably misspelled sentences on sticky notes to drop into your lunchbox, and then in high school, he wrote love letters to slip into your locker. The sweetest part was that he never signed them, yet you always suspected it was him. He pretended to be curious about your newest note from your secret admirer and asked about the contents, all the itty bitty details of the proclamation in black pen.

He was after your heart, and he surely got it.

He showed his love through touch, gestures and gifts, through photographs and love letters that were kept in a special box.

It was beautiful in a way that only broken poets, starved artists and silenced lovers could understand. And you and Ari were all three. The tragedy was in colours no one else could see, the script in an undiscovered language, but to you and all the rest of the heartbroken, it was so vivid and clear. You dipped your fingers into that magic shade and poured your heart onto the white walls of the lonely tower, mourning your knight who would never return.

You made the tragedy your home, wallowed in it, and pitied yourself over every missed opportunity—the fleeted moments where things could have changed, leading you somewhere different from where you were. But you tried to get better, to get clean of him and those noisy, unhelpful thoughts. You wanted to save yourself, to gather the guts to leave that tower and climb down to the lush grass and sparkling rivers below.

In delusions, you are happy and satisfied, sober from the destruction. But right now, that false comfort was cracking beneath your feet. You wished to board up the windows and hide away from the world, from him.

“Will you please listen to me?” He pleads, his voice thick, “just listen, you don’t have to say anything or even stay afterward.”

“Why?” You turn to him, gritting your teeth to keep from sobbing. “Why should I listen to you when you never listened to me? When I told you that were growing apart, you just pushed me further away. Does—” Your voice cracks, “Does that not seem unfair to you?” Did you not deserve the same mercy he was begging for?

It was too late if he wanted to listen this time. It was gone, flatlined, buried under the dirt with overgrown weeds and ivy climbing on the gravestone. Your names were etched into the stone, just another miserable end in the cemetery of the heartbroken, the battered and bruised, the forgotten and silenced.

You’ve been a ghost ever since he mailed back the things you thought he wanted. Transparent and floating through the graveyard, weeping in wonder, and feebly searching for that scarf—the one thing he kept.

“I won’t ask again. This is the last time, Ari. You won’t get another chance.”

He opens and closes his mouth multiple times, rethinking every thought racing in his head, but then he finally settles on shutting his mouth. Those plump lips pressed firmly together, a barrier for everything he should say—and everything you had the right to hear.

Defeated, you release his hand. You didn’t realize you were holding him too, it was all just automatic at this point, unlike this moment which is only a rerun of a film you’ve already seen.

Your gaze traces his face one last time, locking everything to memory from the curve of his dark eyebrows, the shade of his blue eyes, the point of his nose, the blush pink of his lips, and every freckle like they were constellations.

In a flash, you’re staring at him from across the classroom, watching him slowly write on a yellow sticky note, his tongue poking from between his teeth in concentration.

Another flash, and you’re watching him bolt down the hallway, passing lockers and other students with his azure eyes set on you. In his hand is an old polaroid camera and he’s wearing the widest grin, “Let’s go to the park.” He almost crashes into you but grasps your shoulder in excitement, illuminating the dull hallway with his glow.

You laugh, “I have class… and so do you.”

“Yeah, but the weather is so nice today.” He pouts, already tugging you towards one of the exits. “Plus, you look really pretty. Wouldn’t you rather be my model, than sit in some dusty old classroom?”

He kissed you that day, under the biggest willow tree in the park with his hand on your cheek. He blushed a nervous red and asked so sweetly, “Can I—May I please…” He trailed off, profusely blinking at your parted lips, “Will you let me b-be your first kiss? And will you be mine?”

And finally, you’re back in the present. His looming shadow as he towers over your lifeless frame, executed by the quiet and unspoken words. You’d take anything at this point, from shuddering pleas to choked apologies—you’d grovel for a single syllable.

“That’s it.” You scoff in disbelief, “all you can do is look at me?”

Again, silence. His eyes pool with tears, seconds away from streaming down his cheeks and matching your wet trails and ruined makeup. He doesn’t speak, but he’s breaking, cracking at the surface like delicate porcelain holding back a flood.

“You deserve better than me.”

No, he doesn’t get to decide that. He doesn’t get to use that stale statement to dig his own grave, right alongside yours before the final self-deprecating eulogy. It didn’t matter if he thought you deserved better than him, all that should matter was that you wanted him, that you still wanted him even after all of this.

“So, you’re just gonna let me go? After all we’ve been through?” After you’ve given him everything, and showed him every part of you and let him in.

The first tear falls, dripping down his beard and onto the worn knit. Then another, and another until they’re streaming down his cheeks and soaked up by the scarf. “You’re already gone.”

There it is, the last nail in the coffin.

Ari has never been aggressive or forceful, but you wished he’d be brave. You wished he’d fight for you, step into the battlefield with an unrelenting resolve to make things right—to get you back. But he doesn’t, he just looks down at you, chewing on his lip with clenched fists.

He’s surrendered to the war, abandoning you in the tower of tragedy, but joining you in the cemetery of the heartbroken. He’s signing his name on the death certificate and damning you and your wistful dreams, erasing every ‘what if’ that has plagued the both of you since you were children.

“You couldn’t be more wrong.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and fight the weakness in your knees, but you refuse to do this to yourself again, to give him a chance he won’t take. You turn around and continue down the dock, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself in a form of self-soothing.

Autumn was a story of demise, but it had to be better than the earsplitting silence. You’d take the cruel cold and neverending abyss over the lack of effort. Right now, there was no spring in sight, no rebirth to raise you from the dead but you’d find your own life someday and somehow without him. You had to save yourself, be your own hero and come out victorious—alone, but triumphant.

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i’ve already started a part two for those of us who want a happy ending, so if you’re an angsty person, feel free to just leave it at this part. i’ll let you all know when i have a date. this is also my second time writing angst on here, and i had a few good cry sessions. i know this isn't the usual filth but i hope you all enjoyed this nonetheless.

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! i love you all very much. pls take this kith 😚🫶

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! [my inbox] <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

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writing-for-marvel · 8 months

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For the Stardust Reblog Challenge: Summer Edition hosted by @liraketo

These are all the fics I've read in August. Please go show all these amazing writers some much deserved love! Also please remember to read the warnings for each individual fic

🔥 - smut | 💗 - fluff |💧 - angst | 😈 - dark

Dividers by @saradika

Bucky Barnes

😈🔥💧💗 Mob!Bucky x Fairy (series) by @kinanabinks

🔥 Live Now (series) by @world-of-aus

💧💗🔥 Barnsey x Clover (series) by @drabblewithfrannybarnes

💧💗 Positive Vicissitude (series) by @targaryenvampireslayer

💧💗🔥 My Little Love (series) by @crazyunsexycool

💧💗 A Hopeful Tale by @justagirlinafandomworld

🔥💧💗 Ceramics Professor Bucky by @fandoms-writings

🔥💗 On Bended Knees by @slyyywriting

😈💧 Dark Desires by @jobean12-blog

💗 Sunshine in the Dark by @/jobean12-blog

💧💗 CEO!Bucky by @fluffyprettykitty

🔥 Stay Quiet For Me by @inmyicyworld

💗 Morning Rain by @rain-lavender-rain

🔥 Spoiled and Stuffed by @sebstanwhore

🔥💗 On My Mind by @/targaryenvampireslayer

🔥 Skype Sex with Bucky by @boxofbonesfic

🔥 (Baby Cry For Me) When I Put My Lips On You by @cockslutpadalecki

😈🔥 Werewolf!Bucky by @buckylattes

Steve Rogers

💗 Hugging from behind by @worksby-d

💧💗 The Earpiece by @/crazyunsexycool

😈 Late Night Visitor by @sevenwivesofrafecameron

Joaquin Torres

💗 Neighbour!Joaquin by @/fluffyprettykitty

🔥 Photographer!Joaquin by @/fluffyprettykitty

Ari Levinson

💧🔥 Playing With Fire by @flordeamatista

💗 The Meeting by @astheskycries

🔥 Big Daddy by @slothspaghettiwrites

🔥 Sunkissed by @brandycranby

Andy Barber

💧💗 Terms and Conditions AU (series) by @navybrat817

🔥 Good For You by @sunshinexsin

Lloyd Hansen

💧💗 Lloyd Hansen fluff by @venusstorm

🔥 Chain Game by @mrsurahara

Ransom Drysdale

💧💗 Empty Spaces by @intrepidacious

💗 Sweet Surprise by @babyjakes

💗 In Perfect Colour by @/brandycranby

Mickey Henry

💗 Out of my League by @syntheticavenger

Joel Miller

💧💗 Joel Miller x Reader by @holacia3

💧💗 Nook of Love by @/jobean12-blog

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wildestdreamsblog · 2 years

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Currents swept you out again

Pairing: Soft!dark Ari Levinson x Reader

Summary: You were just trying to escape your past, and Ari was trying to chase his future.

Warnings: Soft!Dark Ari, Swearing, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: Almost 5k words! We are nearing the end of the first part, This Love is Good! While likes are well appreciated, kindly also support your content creators by reblogging and/or leaving comments.

Masterlist

Chapter Six

The man looked down at his phone. It was troubling how he hadn’t contacted him for days when usually, he showed how thin his patience was becoming. His silence was worse than anything. His eyes followed the last message he sent him, still left unread by his employer.

‘I found her, boss.’

He smiled as he flicked the photograph he had in his hands, one that involved the runaway fiancé, and her trusted bodyguard locked in an embrace. Barnes let his guard down for a second, and that was all he needed.

Hours later, as he slumbered, the status of the sent message was changed to ‘read’.

Your mind was awake before you could even open your eyes. The bed you were lying on felt spacious. The sheets felt like the ones you had in your life before, it felt too expensive. The linens were cool and soft against your skin. You had not experienced this kind of comfort in years.

This was not your bed.

So where were you? You woke up with a start, feeling more rested than you had been in years since you ran. Your eyes immediately observed the room you were in, taking every details inch by inch. The bed was adorned by white sheets. The room felt light, the huge opened window covered by sheer curtains made you felt like you were in some kind of dream. You could see the tall trees and the twinkling lights from the sunlight seeping through the leaves. Slowly, you sat up, the wooden flooring felt nice on your feet, on your far right was a walk-in closet and a mirror. You frowned when you passed by the mirror. Not only were you wearing a white shirt that looked like a dress on you, the ends reaching to your knees- but you could also see a bruise forming on your exposed neck. And then suddenly, fragments of what happened came back to you like a train wreck. His dark face, his strong hands, the way he confessed what he felt, the way your ran out on him..the way you came back as if it was the most natural thing in the world when it rained. And the way you let him kissed you like it was his lifeline, his touches that brought out the most primitive thing inside of you, and the way he claimed you for his own.

You had never felt something so right, but you knew it was the worst mistake of your life.

Mistake, oh how you loathed that word. He was anything but a mistake. Maybe in another life, you would be the right one for him. You thought that maybe in the next life, you could be what he needed. And perhaps, in another life, you could love freely.

With a heavy sigh, you tore your eyes off from your neck and left the room as quietly as you could. The living room was empty, your footsteps light as you walked carefully. It was clearer now more than ever that you were in his place if the picture frame you found sitting safely on the table besides where a bowl of his keys were stored. A young Ari was there, few of his teeth missing as he grinned boyishly at the camera. Beside him was a beautiful woman who had her arms around Ari’s smaller form. Her blue eyes twinkling, the same shade as Ari’s. This must be his mother. You looked around the room to look for anything that could tell the story of Ari, but there were no other memorabilia or photographs of Ari’s life. You turned back to look at the picture, noting that Ari looked like a mischievous child when you heard a voice behind you.

“She would have loved you,” he commented as his eyes focused on you from across the room. In his shoulder laid a towel, his hair brushed back from his face. He looked…domesticated. If you were surprised by being caught by Ari, you thought you did a good job hiding it. But Ari could not be fooled. He had been watching you tiptoed around his house ever since you stepped out of his room. He knew you were still resistant, still scared of something. But of what? That was what he needed to discover.

“A-Ari, liste-“

“I made breakfast. Come on,” he cut you off, already knowing what you would say- that you would deny something was happening between the two of you. He sensed that he would be fighting tooth and nail just to keep you. And Ari was always a determined man. He gestured to his kitchen, and walked there without looking to see if you were following him.

Why would he fret when he secured the door?

You bit your lip as you followed the huge man to his kitchen, his movements confident as he placed plates on his wooden table, placing the eggs, toasted bread, and bacon, and then lastly the coffee he made from scratch. From the past few months that he had been observing you, he knew how much you loved your coffee, more than you loved eating.

Ari’s kitchen, like his bedroom, was full of light. The pleasant breeze could be felt from his open windows, the flooring was wooden just like his whole house, and the walls were light colored. His house looked so homey, like a place where a happy family should be living. You smiled bitterly as you remembered how he wanted a family of his own.

“Sit,” he ordered calmly.

You rolled your eyes at his bossiness before sitting on his right, with him sitting on the head of the table. You watched him warily as he continued putting food on your plate, as if he had been doing it forever, as if it was his second nature.

“Ari, what happened yesterday was-“

“-was not a mistake,” he cut you off, looking intently at you. “Don’t diminish what happened between us as a mistake just because you’re scared.”

He leaned in, his jaw clenched as he willed you to understand, “You’re not a mistake. We are not a mistake.”

“You don’t understand,” you replied with weariness in your voice. How could he understand? How could you make him understand when you couldn’t tell a single soul?

“Then make me understand.”

“I can’t.”

He shrugged, his mind going a mile per second. He knew how to choose his battle, he knew how to make his enemies surrendered- his father taught him well. And you weren’t ready, yet. It was fine, he thought. He had other means. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere,” He gestured to your food as he took a bite of his breakfast.

Sure he was not going anywhere, but you were. In fact, you would be gone in less than two weeks.

If you thought Ari was insufferable before, he was even harder to avoid now that he finally accepted his feelings for you. Wherever you went, there he was. It was proving to be extremely difficult to pack your things discreetly with him always guarding you 24/7. But you somehow managed. Until Ari squinted his eyes at your store, his mind turning before he decided that your store was quite bare. He came back, a few hours later, with months worth of supplies and the mixer you were staring at a few weeks back, back when he called you poor.

You were shocked when you saw him enter the store just as you were about to close, and in his hands were tons of supplies. Your mouth agape as you took them all in.

“What are those?”

He looked down innocently at the bags before shifting his eyes at you, “Why, supplies of course, darling.”

He circled the counter, intending to place the supplies on your stockroom when you stepped in between him and the door, resting your hands on his stomach to stop him. “What are you doing?”

He looked down at your hands on his stomach, his long lashes highlighted his eyes that held amusement. If he wanted to, you would not be able to stop him. He only stopped because of his own volition. He wanted to point that out, but he held back his tongue. It was his second nature to tease you, but he figured he was trying to win you, not annoy you any further.

Regardless, you saw the amusement in his eyes and you squinted your eyes at him.

“I’m being a good boyfriend, taking care of his woman-“

“I’m not your woman! And what do you mean by-“

Ari placed his hands at your shoulders, leaning down at you to smile before moving you gently aside so he could passed and proceeded on stocking the supplies he bought, despite your great reluctance.

You watched his audacity to move in your own space, your own store, as if he had every right to do this. You crossed your arms over your heaving chest, glaring up at his stupid back. You purposely did not restock, you worked so hard to budget every cup of supplies, you worked the math just so you’d have enough until her wedding day. And Ari, this tall as fuck monkey, ruined all your hard work.

“I didn’t ask you to do this,” you stated nonchalantly, but inside you were brewing. Ari, please don’t make this harder than it has to be, you thought. Not looking at him like he was the very thing that you wanted was difficult enough, not letting yourself fall completely, irrevocably, unashamedly, was a burden enough. You did your very best to stay away from his orbit, but each step you took away from him only made him more determined to follow you. You were his north, everything all pointed to you no matter where he went, no matter what direction he walked to- they would all point him to you.

He smirked before turning to look at you, “Darling, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to close your store,” he prowled dangerously at you. You knew a hunter when you saw one, knew not to provoke a lion just when he set his eyes on his prey. And so you slowly inched away from him until you felt the counter on your back, and would you looked at that- darling, you were trapped.

Ari’s muscular form followed you, and when you were backed to the counter, he smiled victoriously. Slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, he rested his hands on either side of you, and now you had nowhere to go.

“Is that it, sweetheart?” He asked, the way he called you sweetheart was so different from how he used to, it now lacked the usual sharpness and sometimes, irritation, he had when he called you that. There was now a change in the way he addressed you, and it terrified you because now you were believing that you were that- his sweetheart, his darling.

And you loathed how you were liking to be his. You were setting yourself up for a heartache you weren’t sure you could survived.

“You know, it bothered me a few days back when I noticed your store was pretty…empty. I thought it was all in my head, until our dear Molly noticed it, too. I know your store was thriving, I know you are good with what you do. So,” he paused as he leaned down on your height, his face close to you as he stared deeply into your eyes, his other hand picking the strand of your hair that fell on your face and softly, with all the gentleness he could mustered, tucked it behind your ear, “what are you planning, darling?”

You felt your heartbeat spiked up as you listened to each words that came out of his mouth. He was almost on point, and you didn’t want to wait until he figured it out. Something was telling you that Ari was not a man who would just let you be.

“I’m not planning anything.”

“Hmm,” he smiled at you before he leaned closer slowly, his lips tenderly on your forehead as he kissed you, his other hand on the back of your neck, not letting you move an inch from him. “I don’t believe you, my little liar.”

Have you mentioned how Ari was always there? Just when you thought you escaped him, here he was walking in that unbothered way of his directly at you, the sunshades he was wearing was hiding his eyes, but you knew his eyes were on you. You could feel it to your bones. His hair moving gently against the wind, the waves touching the sands softly. You had foolishly thought you could escaped him. God, when he said he was a determined man, he really wasn’t joking. Perhaps, it was time to take everything he said in face value.

“Hide me,” you pleaded at Jess. She nodded strongly before attempting to stand up when Isaac placed a hand on her knees, patiently telling her that it was too late and that Ari was behind you already. She pouted and proceeded on sipping from her milkshake.

Stupid long legs, you thought.

You felt him confidently sat beside you, as if it was his rightful place. He rested his elbow on the table and placed his chin on his hand, giving you all his attention. “You left me,” he accused with a pout on his lips.

Pout? Was this 6’5 man pouting at you? You blinked owlishly at him, your friends in front of you dumbfounded by the 180 degrees change in Ari. It was suffice to say that they have never seen him, a man with such stature, acting like a child in front of a woman.

“What is happening?” Jess whispered animatedly at Isaac.

You removed his glasses and placed it non too gently on the table. “Correction, I did not leave you. I simply went out with my friends.”

Ari eyed the food on the table, before he lifted his eyes at the waiter and he immediately came to his aid. Ari ordered quietly, asking you if you wanted anything.

He greeted Isaac and Jess, his demeanor friendly as they talked. Despite everything, you couldn’t deny how much you enjoyed Ari’s company. He was witty, a great conversationalist, and overall a great man. You found yourself laughing at his stories, of throwing wits back and forth, of hanging on to every word he said. Jess could see what you refused to see; and the way you looked at him, the way you smiled softly when he wasn’t looking- those were the indications of a romance that already bloomed unbeknownst to you.

Ari turned to you, an easy smile on his face, “This feels like a double date. Don’t you agree, sweetheart?”

You didn’t know why, but you felt blood rush to your cheeks. You glanced at Jess and Isaac shyly, “This is not a double date! We’re just third and fourth wheeling,” you answered back at him lowly.

Ari chuckled, “What do you think, Isaac? Doesn’t this seem like a nice date?”

The man could only agreed.

When the sun set and the beach became deserted, the wind turned colder, and Jess’ eyes started closing, Isaac led his pregnant wife to their car. You bid her goodbye, watching her hand rubbed her belly lovingly. You were left with Ari. You opted to walk along the beach, submerging your feet on the waves, your sandals on your hand. Behind you, Ari walked slowly, his hands in his pockets as he watched you, and your face that held emotions he could not make sense of. He took his phone out, and with your back facing him and your hair flowing gently, the sun setting down, the sea twinkling from the light, he took a picture of you.

You jumped when his hand completely enveloped yours without asking. You couldn’t understood why you didn’t pull away, and most of all, why you loved his hand holding yours. It was a feeling that was telling you that this was where you should be, that his hands would be forever holding yours, keeping you safe, always.

He broke the silence by finally saying what had been plaguing his mind when he couldn’t find you, “Next time, don’t go anywhere without telling me first.”

You felt his hand squeezed yours. You thought of what he said, of how you knew it was something you could not promised, of how you wanted to tell him you wouldn’t do it anymore, and yet, you were bound not to. It would be simply cruel to promise something you could not follow through. “How did you know where I was?”

He shrugged and smiled secretly at you. God, he was beautiful. “This is a small town, sweetheart.”

“Wanna know a secret?” You asked, you blinked back the tears before he could even see them. “I think that you can always find me.”

Ari stopped walking. He faced you, his eyes full of sincerity and things you were not ready to see. And slowly, as if he was terrified, he leaned down and embraced you. You felt safe in his arms, you felt as if the chaos of the world could not touched you no longer, you felt…at peace. Ari’s face was resting on your shoulder. He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of you inside his arms. He never wanted to let you go. The thought should have terrified him, but he discovered that he no longer cared. Now, he had you. With you in his arms, he confessed, “I fear that one day, I won’t be able to find you.”

And then your tears fell, one by one, as if you were tired of trying to stop them, of keeping them in. You were glad he couldn’t see you, you were glad that in his eyes, you were still the strong girl who went head to head with him.

Ari was about to let you go when you hugged him just a little bit tighter, “Will you take me to your home?”

You need not asked the second time.

You found yourself against the wall, Ari’s lips not far from you as he devoured you. He struggled to not touch your on the way home, his focused on the road. He was shaking as even as he unlocked his front door, and before you knew it, he was on you. The house was dark, only the light shining from the moon illuminated your way. He was like a man starved, a man parched that was fresh from the desert. And you discovered that you, too, were as eager as he was. His kisses were ferocious, hungry, but then slowly, he started kissing you gently. His hands entangled in your hair, he was savoring you. You had seen him topless once, but truly, to admire things was to see it the second time. Your breath hitched as he removed carelessly his blue shirt, the one that brought out the color and warmth of his eyes. His chest was covered with hair, one that you were sure you didn’t like on men…until you saw it on him. He was muscular all over, body so thick with muscles that made him larger than life. You had always thought he was a beauty even when he was annoying you, but now that he was showing his unending adoration, he was even more. You knew you were going to get burnt, and yet, you weren’t scared.

He was the definition of male, of masculinity- he was Adonis personified.

And heavens, you could not helped but melt when he touched you so lovingly, as he smiled at you as if you were the one he had been waiting for forever.

“Sweetheart,” his voice was low and thick with lust, his hand clasping your neck as his forehead touched yours. “Can I keep you?”

You couldn’t answer, and perhaps you did not want to. You closed what remained of the gap between the two of you, your heaving chest touching his muscular ones. Your hands reached up to clasp his shoulders, bringing him closer to you as your tongues played with each other.

For once in your life, you did not care about what happened after, of the consequences. Now, you just wanted to feel him, to truly give yourself to him. Maybe, if you were being honest, you could admit to yourself that no one could make you feel like he did. No one could light you up like he did. His heart was thrumming with dark anticipation as he lifted you up, your legs immediately locking on his waist. He lifted you up, never removing his lips from you as he moved you two to his room. He deposited you gently on his bed, his sheets still the same from the last time you were there. He did not want to admit, but he never wanted to lose your scent in his sheets. Your scent was now his obsession. He could drown by how much he craved you, needed you in his life that anyone else paled in comparison to you.

You were staring up at him, and the way you did proved just how much you needed him as well, how much you desired him as much as he did. The way you responded to his kisses proved to him that you felt it as well, the the attraction was not one-sided, that you could be his.

Without any warning, Ari’s hand ventured under your dress, completely palming your breast, kneading it expertly with pressure that you never knew was possible. His thumb brushed over your erect nipple and you could not helped but moaned so wantonly that his eyes darkened further. “You’re wearing too much clothes,” he growled in your ear before he pulled off your clothes completely. You didn’t know how, but you managed to unbutton his pants. His cock was noticeably hard and tenting on the front of his pants that the moment you unbuttoned his pants, the zipper gave way. He was now only wearing his tight boxers, precum soaking the cloth. You licked your lip, wanting nothing more than to taste him, his cock, his essence.

Ari’s eyes were focused on your exposed glistening pussy. With him on top of you, he looked like a warrior ready to ravish his war prize. Ari knelt down on the floor, his hand rubbing his beard with unrestrained excitement and lust. You gasped as he unceremoniously spread your legs, his strong hands resting on your thighs as he squeezed them, his eyes focused on your pussy.

“I craved your taste, sweetheart,” he shared his thoughts, the one that he had been dreaming of for days since he had your essence in his tongue. “I ached for you.”

Ari leaned in, tip of his nose touching your clit as he inhaled deeply, moaning appreciatively as he scented you. Heavens, he never smelled anything better, never tasted anything better than this. You whimpered with want as without any warning, Ari’s tongue lapped at your slit wholly. You wanted to scream your pleasure when he found your clit, immediately knowing your body like the back of his hand. Your eyes squeezed shut as he sucked your clit with just the right amount of pleasure, his long finger entering your pussy like it belonged there. Your back formed and arched as he fucked you hard with his fingers, his beard drenched with your wetness. A particular pleasure ran through your whole body that you involuntarily bucked away from him, but no sweetheart. Ari would have none of that. His strong hands brought your thighs on his shoulders, moving you closer to his face, rendering you motionless as he watched you took pleasure from him. Only him.

The release was like no other, moving violently from your core through every nerve endings in your body- and to your heart. Fuck, you wanted more of him. And Ari was only too generous.

He kissed your pussy once more, smiling in triumph as he tasted you once again. He was obsessed with how you tasted. He needed you like a sustenance.

When you came to your sense, Ari was hovering above you now, his mouth latching on your breast, on your neck, on your chest as he peppered open-mouthed kisses, as he marked you as his. You could come with the way he was rubbing his clothed hardness on your pussy. With want clouding your mind, you moved ferociously against him, rubbing your pussy on him harder that he looked at you with amazement.

His wild sweetheart. His woman. His.

Ari helped you reached heavens again- with his mouth on your nipples, he lifted your other thigh on his waist, thrusting his clothed length on you harder and harder. And then you came, your release so sudden that you were still shaking as he held you closer to him, whispering how you were his, and his alone.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured lovingly at you, his hand brushing away the hair from your damped forehead. You turned your face to him, seeking his heat as he held you. You must have drowsed off for a minute because when you came to be, you were lying down on his pillow with a blanket on top of you.

“Hmm?”

“I want to make love to you.”

You smiled, and that was all he needed.

Ari moved on top of you once again, your core his heaven as he slowly spread your legs, your knees bent as he looked at it appreciatively. You were so wet that he knew you were more than ready for him. You looked down at his cock. His cock was…big, the head beautifully cut, the veins protruding and the whole length bobbed up and down as he moved to kneel between your legs.

“Y-you’re big,” you commented with nervousness apparent in your voice.

He smiled assuringly at you even as he rubbed the head of his cock on your pussy, drenching his member with your wetness. You gasped as he slid the length on your slit. Fuck, he felt good and warm.

His arms supported his weight as he leaned down to kiss your forehead, your cheek, your lips- and then he was inserting the broad head of his cock inside you. Your breath hitched, he was big. And he knew it. The way he thrusted slowly inside you, as if not to scare you, made you trust him more. He was pushing inside you, grunting in your ear as he struggled.

“Am I hurting you?” He asked.

He was, but the pleasure weighed more than the bearable pain.

“Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” He met your eyes, and even in lust hazed brain of his, he was thinking of you. Only when you nodded did he move again, his jaw flexed from restraining. His hips started to move back and forth, making you adjust on his size. Your slickness was coating your thighs, and you could only take so much of his pace before you were begging him to move.

And fuck did he move.

He was fucking you with dominance, his hand holding your wrists hostage on top of your head. He was looking at you with darkness in his eyes, as if you let out a monster he was desperately hiding, one that wanted nothing but to have you as his. Ari set a hard, driving pace. He was savoring the way you looked with his cock splitting you. In his mind, there was no way you weren’t his from the way you felt. Each time he thrusted down on you, he ground on your swollen clit, earning moans from you.

He was too intense, he was too much- he was more than enough for you.

He felt you tightened, strangling his cock with pleasure.

“Look at me,” he barked when you squeezed your eyes shut, his other hand pushing down on your stomach that you could feel his cock moving inside you. He let go of your wrists, his hand now clasping your throat with just the right pressure to make you follow him. You followed his order automatically, looking at his blue eyes, your pleasure too much as you came.

“You are fucking mine,” he declared.

And then he marked you as his.

The next morning, you woke up and he was gone. The side of his bed cold. You searched the entire house, looked at the whole town, and yet, he wasn’t there. No one knew where he was. And you were truly alone for the first time in months.

Next chapter

#ari levinson fic #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson angst #soft!dark ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x y/n #ari levinson au #ari levinson #ari levinson smut #possessive ari

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muddyorbsblr · 11 months

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monthly wrap-up :: may 2023

Welcome to smth I’m gonna try this month: a wrap-up! I’ll be giving you all a lil recap of the fics I’ve read & written over the last month and hopefully this will get me to actually chip away at my TBR and get y’all on some non-Loki/Tom stories that I occasionally do read 🫡

Everything under the cut

Loki x Reader

Don't Be Shy by @lokisgoodgirl

The way that shy Loki being nervous about not satisfying Agent Y/N has me running around in circles in my living room I can't 🫠🫡

Hostile F*cks: Public Relations by @lokisgoodgirl

A perfect epilogue to this series that was a masterclass of holding your emotions hostage and giving the best payoff. And the fencing pants got a return cameo?? This had me giggling and squeeing and the second the fencing pants came out to play…running laps once again 🫠

An Interesting Theory by @infinitystoner

Completely obsessed with the dynamic between Loki & Reader in this piece. And the ending with Loki deciding that he needs more "data" to "confirm the hypothesis"? I see you, Mischief 😏🫠

The Prince is Dead by @lokisgoodgirl

The beginning had me all teary eyed and ready to fight; the end had me filled with hope and chortling at the tasteful dick joke. LGG really do be a master at holding our emotions hostage with a satisfying payoff at the end 🥹 I live in fear thinking what she could be capable of if she ups and decides to make a piece of just pure angst 😳👀

A Gentlemen's Agreement by @lokisgoodgirl

This had me having some good reminiscing moments of back when I was a Steve girly for a few months in 2015 and also deciding that Bucky's a second simp subject. Distant second, but a second nonetheless. The fact that there's even a second got me doing the Blinking Man at myself--

She is Beauty, She is Grace, She Will Stab You in the Face by @clandestineloki

The adorable dynamic between them when he caught her and saved her from tripping?? Her singing Hamilton without a care in the world? Their whole exchange in the jet after she offed 3 henchmen for hurting her mans?? I love them, your honor.

A Lesson on Behaving by @multifandom-worlds

Reader edging Loki and "suffering" the consequences? With a brief cameo from besties Nat & Wanda trying (and failing hilariously because Reader tried to go and get a snack) to hide her from said consequences? Sign me up and don't expect to be able to contact me for the next few hours because I need to recover from the smut 🥵🫠

Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Under Your Spell by @holdmytesseract

A Model AU where Reader's a photographer and she's been hired to do an underwear shoot for Calvin Klein…and Tom's tatted and pierced and--and--*melts on the spot* 🫠 Head empty all thots…that is all 😮‍💨

Bucky Barnes x Reader

shouldn't have gone by @imyourbratzdoll

This had me clutching at my heart going "why would he do this to Reader what the hell"…like no joke I needed a good few mins to start breathing right and not in the fun I just read toe curling smut way. I mean in the "If I try now I might start crying" way 🥲

Ari Levinson x Reader

Like a Broken Record by @howdoyousleep3

Ari with a plus size reader making her feel so empowered & beautiful in bed? The “I’m keeping you” vibe?! This had me 100% completely deceased when I read it while I was out doing groceries (bc y’all know me I should know better than to read smut in public but I never do and I might never will lol).

self-conscious ask by @imyourbratzdoll

This one hit me so close to home and honestly where can I get a boyfriend like this I would very much appreciate one 🥺💖

Give Me One More by @saiyanprincessswanie

This character + this trope = Ally dead in the water. Thank you and goodnight I am not available for comment at this time 🫡

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Fall Kiss by @animnerd

Besties becoming lovers after months apart and having some fluffy wholesome fun on a pile of leaves before having their first kiss? Lemme melt in my spot real quick aaaaaa

Clark Kent/Superman x Reader

It Got Worse by @hannibals-favourite-meal

Clark being a soft lil simp for his fiance while her brother Bruce has a hilarious mix of "I'm happy their happy" and "Why did I ever set them up" is such an adorable dynamic and I need more 🥹

Loki x Reader

rules of conduct: the checkout queue

Thomas Sharpe x Reader

the final Lady Sharpe part 2: a risky endeavor

#rec list #monthly wrap-up

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hollybee8917 · 1 year

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His One and Only

Characters: Ari Levinson, Reader

Plot: The battle is over but not everyone is coming home.

Warnings: Major character death, angst, mentions of battle, injury descriptions

The words caught in your throat and you held back your tears. Beside you, Sammy Navon who was once your husband’s best friend, rubbed your back and spoke softly, “Your name was the last thing on his lips. He loved you so much.”

But his words meant nothing to you. Your heart constricted causing you to devolve into a sobbing mess. Your beloved was gone.

The tears flowed freely as you clutched his necklace to your chest, his Magen David. The star was stained with his blood but you didn’t care. All you could think about was that he was not wearing it any longer.

Sammy wrapped his arm around you, “He spoke of you with his final breaths. He wanted to make sure you were taken care of.”

You finally raised your eyes and spoke, the pain radiating in your voice, “What did he say?”

—

“ARI!” Sammy Navon slid to a stop at the sight of his friend. The battle had been long and Sammy had spent most of it tending to the wounded. After it was over and they had claimed victory over the opposition, Sammy went onto the field to find his best friend.

Ari Levinson slowly opened his eyes as Sammy raised Ari’s head into his lap. The man winced slightly causing his friend to apologize, “I’m sorry, Ari.”

Samuel took in the state of his friend and noticed a gaping wound on Ari’s left side. His right wrist was twisted at an unnatural angle and he was bleeding profusely from his leg.

“Shit.” Sammy softly cursed, “Ari, I need you to hang on. I am going to get you out of here. I promise.”

“Sam, tell y/n I love her. Tell her I will be okay. Tell her-“

Sammy interrupted him, “No, don’t talk like that. You’ll be okay.”

Ari slowly shook his head and groaned, “No. I’m not going to make it out of this one. Sammy…”

“Yes, Ari?”

“I’m so cold. So cold. Why can’t I get warm?”

“Ari…”

—

You began sobbing again, completely overwhelmed by the depths of your husband’s love. No more words were spoken between you and Sammy. He continued to rub your back and cry as well.

It was the first time since Ari’s death he had allowed himself to cry. He kept repeating to himself under his breath, “If only I had been faster. If only I had been faster.”

You didn’t notice his repetitions. You were too involved in your own grief at the knowledge that your beloved wasn’t coming home.

Through your tears, you looked down at your wrist where his name was etched into your skin to match what he used to have.

—

“Ari, are you sure this is a good idea?”

Your husband smiled at you, “Of course it is. Are you nervous?”

You nodded and he wrapped his arm around you, “Hey, I’ve got you. I will be right here. If you don’t want to do this, then you don’t have to.”

He pulled you into a hug and you whispered against his chest, “But the Torah is explicitly clear. We shouldn’t do this.”

Ari smiled, “I know what it says but I haven’t always been the best when it comes to following the laws of the Torah. How about this? How about I go in and get mine, then if you like it, you can do it? If you are still uneasy about it, then you don’t have to.”

You gave him a small smile, “Okay.”

—

A knock on the door caused Sammy to rise from the couch and he made his way to the door. Sammy opened it to find Jacob Wolf on the other side with Max Rose. Jacob spoke first, “How is she?”

“Come on in and see for yourself,” Sammy replied.

Both men stepped into the small home and followed Sammy back to you. Sammy returned to his place on your right while Jake sat down on your left. Max leaned against the doorframe and said nothing. Tentatively, Jake reached out to you, “Ari wanted me to give you this.”

He pulled something from his jacket and handed it to you. It was a letter. Wiping the tears away, you opened it. A picture fell from it. With trembling fingers, you picked up the old photograph. It was from your wedding day. Ari had looked so handsome. In the picture, he was twirling you around and the words on his wrist were visible. Y/N. My One and Only.

Tears fell down your cheek once more as you looked down at your own wrist. The ink was as dark on your skin as the day you had gotten them placed there. Ari. My One and Only. But Ari wasn’t here to match your tattoo. Not anymore. You let out a low wail and turned into Jake’s chest. Slowly, ever so slowly, he rubbed your back.

Sammy spoke once more, “Ari wanted me to tell you that he wants you to be strong. He wants you to find love again one day. But he also made me promise that I would look after you.”

—

Ari shivered as he lay in his own blood, his voice grew weaker, “Sammy.”

“What is it?”

A tear found its way down the dying man’s cheek, “Tell Y/N that I am sorry. I wish I could have come home. We had all these plans but now… well… it’s all pointless. Promise me that you will take care of her. She is going to hurt for a very long time and will need help. Tell her she was my one and only.”

“I’ll be there for her. I promise. I will try to talk to her and keep her safe. You know my friend; I remember the day you told me you met her. You were so in love instantly. Day after day, you spoke only about her. It made me happy to know you finally had found someone. We just need to make sure you get out of here. You will go home to her. I swear you will. ”

But Ari didn’t respond.

“Ari! ARI!”

—

You continued to sob into Jake’s chest. Max and Sammy spoke soft comforting words to you.

“Ima?” A tiny voice called out, “Where Abba?”

@joannaliceevans-fanficblog @patzammit @saiyanprincessswanie @dangerouspursepeachbear

#ari levinson x reader #ari levinson #red sea diving resort #angst #tragedy

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granatkoroleva · 1 year

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This is the place where all of the mood boards that I create will be stored.

Please be advised that some of the following content may contain explicit and mature themes, and is (NSFW). All creations are my own.

REQUESTS: OPEN

❥ Mafia!Bucky x Kept Boy!Steve

❥ Doctor!Rogers x Patient!Bucky (1)

❥ Foodie Influencer!Bucky x Chef!Steve

❥ RetiredCap!Alpha!Steve Rogers x Baker!Omega!Bucky Barnes

❥ Dragon!Steve Rogers x Farmer!Bucky Barnes

❥ TFATWS!Bucky x Johnny Storm

❥ Rockstar!Bucky Barnes x Captain America!Steve Rogers

❥ Dark!Beta!Sheriff!Bucky Barnes x Outlaw!Alpha!Steve Rogers

❥ Alpha!Gymnast Coach!Steve Rogers x Omega!Gymnast!Bucky

❥ TattooArtist!Steve Rogers x Gentlemans Club Worker!Bucky Barnes

❥ Lloyd Hansen x Steve Kemp (1)

❥ War Time Stucky Header

❥ D/s | Post Serum!Steve x Winter Soldier!Bucky

❥ Pornstar!Hitman!Steve Rogers x Human Meat Seller!Bucky Barnes

❥ Bed & Breakfast Owner!Bucky

❥ Dom!Andy Barber x Sub!Max Burnett x Dom!Rockstar!Bucky Barnes

❥ Cafe Owner!Steve Rogers x Caffeine Enthusiast&Author!Bucky Barnes

❥ Daddy!Andy Barber/Baby Boy!TJ Hammond

❥ Himbo!Steve Rogers x Bartender!Bucky Barnes

❥ Model!Bucky Barnes x Photographer!Steve Rogers

❥ Erotic Performer!Bucky Barnes x Officer!Steve Rogers

❥ Past!Football Player!Steve Rogers x Past!Football Player!Bucky Barnes

❥ Silver Fox!Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x 1940s!James Barnes

❥ Demon!Bucky Barnes x Librarian!Steve Rogers

❥ Priest!James Bucky Barnes x Demon!Nomad!Steve Rogers

❥ Roman!Royalty!James Bucky Barnes x Gladiator!Steve Rogers

❥ Pastry Chef!Bucky Barnes x Wedding Planner!Steve Rogers

❥ Farmer!Nomad!Steve Rogers x Trailer Park Slut!Bucky Barnes

❥ Circus!Ringmaster!Bucky Barnes x Fire Performer!Steve Rogers

❥ Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers (Anon)

❥ Dark!Witch!Bucky Barnes x Incubus!Chase Collins

❥ Modern!Bucky Barnes x Boss!Ari Levinson

❥ Master!Steve Kemp x Pup!Slave!Winter Soldier

❥ Single Dad!Silver Fox!Bucky Barnes x Nomad!Doctor!Steve Rogers

❥ Vampire!King!Steve Rogers x Human!Bride!Bucky Barnes

❥ Firefighter!Bucky Barnes x Pre-Serum!Cam Boy!Steve Rogers

❥ Hitman!Steve Rogers x Recovering!Bucky Barnes

❥ Kelpie!Bucky Barnes x Merman!Prince!Steve Rogers

❥ Beefy!Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Cap!Alpha!Steve Rogers

#stucky #bucky barnes #steve rogers #smutconnoisseur #smutconnoisseur moodboards #stucky moodboard #steve x bucky

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flordeamatista · 3 months

Text

𝗜'𝗺 𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀

pairing: boudoir photographer!ari levinson x reader

concept: You're so pretty, I'm all yours

word count: 1.4k

warnings: new year feels, soft grey! reader, soft kisses, allusions to bj,

a/n: daydream written for the @writerscafehub writer's cafe secret santa exchange. prompt: “Character is a photographer. Reader wants to do a boudoir photo shoot for Christmas.

I appreciate the love you both gave me when I first wrote the first draft and ideas in December @targaryenvampireslayer @navybrat817

lovely beta: @/navybrat817

line divider by the lovely @s-tarksintern / the cute gif and moodboard made by me

masterlist

It was an image of you that sparked my desire to see you.

It was impossible not to admire your own reflection as you gazed into the large vanity mirror. Expertly applied makeup highlights your attractive features, giving you an air of magic and allure. You hadn't felt this confident and energized in a long time.

Ultimately, today was the day she returned to you.

There is a charred, hollow space in your soul where the flame of your soul once burned fiercely. The time is now to reignite that flame and let it spread throughout your veins, consuming all doubts and fears.

It's time to reclaim yourself, step back into your true self, open your heart and let her back in. After years of waiting and walking through the dark, she is coming through the day and the time for hesitation is over.

Set that flash ablaze and watch it turn into an inferno of passion and strength.

The silk robe draped smoothly over your body, providing comfort and a soft barrier as you prepared for the photo shoot. Often, a photo can convey a thousand words about a person, and your photos conveyed intensity and fierceness.

Little did you know, the man behind the camera would become the perfect match for your fiery energy. You had seen his work online, attracted by his talent and unique style. A face-to-face meeting with him, however, was a whole new experience. Your spine was tingling from his presence. The piercing blue of his eyes and the chiseled features only added to his allure. Billboards were the right place to advertise his face, not behind a camera.

Faced with his blazing inferno, you couldn't help but feel like a mere flicker.

As the light from the camera engulfs your eyes, primal desires ignite in your mind.

The heat radiating from it beckons you closer, enticing you to grasp its alluring power and reach out and grasp it.

As you step toward the camera, your heart pounding with anticipation, you repeat like a manifesting prayer, "She will burn, she will be loved."

This new year brings you closer to achieving your deepest desires.

You breathe deeply as you step in front of the lens and release any inhibitions or doubts you may have. Hearing the air rush into and out of your body, you become aware of your own existence.

Now is your chance to shine without apologies or hesitation.

Embrace your true self and ignite it before Ari Levinson's eyes.

Feel the flames of passion and authenticity dancing within you, pleading to be released.

Making your own ambiance of beauty.

A sense of anticipation tingles your body as you lie on the crisp, white sheets. There's something unmistakably sexy and inviting about the way your legs are spread apart.

Your bare skin shivers as cool air blows over it, both excited and nervous.

Standing before you is someone who has witnessed your most intimate and sensual moments.

Through the eyes of his high-quality camera, he captures each curve and angle of you, gently guiding you so that you feel more at ease and desired.

Praise and compliments from him ignite desire within you.

He is telling you to move slightly to the left, so he can see your pretty eyes. With each shot he took, his flattery stoked the sparks of desire within.

You're so pretty, I'm all yours.

Ari emerged from behind the camera and slowly approached you, getting down on his knees in front of you. You held your position, trying to maintain composure as his fingers danced across your skin.

The tension in the room only grows as his intense gaze and heavy breathing intensify.

Inhale and exhale, you remind yourself as Ari's touch becomes more daring and electrifying. In the midst of all this intensity, he gently turns your face towards another light source.

More of this touch. It will make you want to burn with him and feel his touch. This time, more.

Your mouth dropped open as he reverted to his vision.

An intense spark lit his cyan eyes, and he quickly grabbed his camera, eager to capture the raw emotion emanating from within you. Standing before him, you radiated fiery passion. With each click of the shutter, he immortalized your essence, capturing every detail, every surge of energy. The final click, the room reverberated with unbridled passion and boundless creativity as one, sealing the moment in time.

Your adoration grows in me, and I’m thrilled to be able to share mine with yours.

When you look in the mirror, your lips, covered in a rich crimson lipstick, press together. You give the mirror an air kiss. A kiss to seal this moment. A moment that you achieved.

She is getting what she was made to get on this very night.

Behind you as the sun sets, your lover now lies a peaceful state, his hands bound by metallic handcuffs under the low light. You move fluidly and seductively towards him with a mischievous twinkle in your eye. Your lips leave a trail of bold red kisses along his bare chest, each one expressing your passion and desire for him.

You are enthralled by his skin under your touch, igniting an inner fire that cannot be quenched.

Yours.

It is a man who sees your vision and your vision sees him as your own.

An abrupt blinding light breaks through the darkness as he stirs from his slumber. Trying to adjust his blurry vision, he hears soft moans escape his lips. A sudden sense of urgency arises in him as he notices your piercing eyes and your body hovering over him. Seeing your fingers clatter against his belt, he weakly grunts and asks what you were doing.

“Shhh. I'm just pleasuring my man," you declared boldly. "It's only moments ago that you were taking my pictures and now I'm fully taking you."

You felt your breath tighten as you looked at him. Seeing his body under your touch was a release because this connection is real.

Curling your lips into a sensual smile, you knew his body was yours to possess.

After having been his muse during the photoshoot, now it was your turn to capture every inch of him.

The love you shared simmered between stolen glances and yearning gazes. You glide down his zipper as his eyes widen, unable to resist your intense pull towards him.

In your arms, he belongs.

Since that first snap with his camera captured your heart, he's yours entirely.

Our connection, strong and deep, breaking through.

Despite trying to contain his moans, they escaped as he gazed upon your completely naked and flawless form. The sensation of your fingers around him was stronger than any flash in the world.

"You're mine," you declared, locking eyes with Ari in a passionate stare. "You belong to me, Ari Levinson. Only me. "I've been searching for you" With those words, you took him into your mouth, teasing him with your tongue and igniting a fire within him.

Despite trying to contain his moans, they escaped as he gazed at your completely naked and flawless form. The sensation of your fingers around him was stronger than any light in the world.

"I'm yours," you said, locking eyes with Ari. "I belong to you, Ari Levinson. Only me. You've been searching for me, and now we have found each other." With those words, you took him into your mouth, teasing him with your tongue and igniting a fire within him.

You are Ari Levinson's perfect picture.

This flame is back, and let it spread throughout your veins as you go into the flare of flame, ultimately winning the light, consuming everything you touch.

Embracing each other, two souls seeking comfort found they were not themselves completely, until they descended into lust, an intense desire that devoured their muses.

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starryevermore · 2 years

Text

the road to the altar: the big day ✧ ari levinson

let’s ride ✧ a biker!ari levinson series | pinterest board | ao3

pairing: biker!ari levinson x single mom!reader

summary: you and ari say “i do”.

word count: 2,338

warnings?: tooth-rotting fluff, pet name (sweetpea)

Countdown to the Big Day: Zero Days

If you thought you were nervous at your final dress fitting, it had nothing on what you were experiencing at this very moment. Everything was a flurry around you as the makeup artist swiped eyeshadow across your lids, the hair stylist fixing your hair. Somewhere behind you, Yelena was complaining about the lack of snacks in the room while Sarah tried to wrangle the Liam, AJ, and Cass, who were trying to avoid putting on their tuxes. Nat was off somewhere, telling one of the photographers all the things you and Ari wanted to get shots of before people started arriving and messing with the decorations. Another photographer was in the room, capturing the moments of you getting ready.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, almost startled by the change. You wore makeup regularly, sure, but bridal makeup? The woman who stared back in the mirror looked like you, but different. Almost regal. Some sort of ethereal quality about her.

“You must got some sort of magic in that eyeshadow palette,” you told the makeup artist.

“Don’t need magic when the subject is so beautiful already,” she said, grabbing the bottle of setting spray and uncapping it. “Shut your eyes for a second, okay?”

You obliged, feeling the mist of the spray coating your face. When you opened your eyes, she passed you a fan so you could dry your face while she grabbed the mascara. She’d said she liked to put the mascara on after the setting spray, something about it sticking better to people’s lashes. Plus, you were less likely to have to fix up runny mascara that way.

“Alright,” the hair stylist said, “does it look how you want?”

You looked back to the mirror, turning your head slightly to look at the different angles. “Could you pin down this section here? It looks like I’m going to get some flyaways at the first gust of wind.”

“Of course,” she said, grabbing a couple of bobby pins and securing the hair you were talking about.

“Oh my god! You look stunning!” Yelena said, finally abandoning her pursuit of snacks and looking over at you.

“Wait til you see her in her dress,” Sarah said, re-entering the room after getting the boys to the room Ari, Sam, and Bucky were getting ready in.

“Y’all flatter me,” you said. The makeup artist started applying your mascara. “How are the guys holding up?”

“I put Bucky in charge of getting the kiddos in their tuxes,” Sarah said. “Ari looked really excited. Kept asking how you were doing.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. Said he was ready to do the first look as soon as you were.”

A first look—it had been something Sarah and Bucky did at their wedding. Instead of waiting to see each other when you were walking down the aisle, the two of you would see each other before the ceremony actually started. It let you get all the emotional jitters out early, giving time to do any makeup touch-ups if you cried a little too hard. Plus the pictures you could get? Oh, it was wonderful. And you couldn’t wait to do it.

Once your makeup and hair were officially finished, you got out of the chair and Sarah brought your dress over. You shed the robe you were given, and the girls helped you into the dress. Nat laced up the back, you staring at the mirror, tears pricking at your eyes.

“You look amazing,” Nat said. “Sarah told me how pretty you looked in your dress, but nothing beats seeing it in person.”

“Ari might pass out when he sees you,” Yelena says.

You laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far. Maybe pretend to pass out.”

Your dress was truly beautiful. It was a champagne color, off the shoulder with big, puffy, bubble-like sleeves. It had a low back, and a pretty corset. You pictured yourself as the subject of a Renaissance painting. One of a goddess, lounged out in nature, the kind of painting that would be the bane of students’ existence as they had to analyze it over and over and over again. The kind of painting that someone would hang a print of in their home, marveling at its beauty. The kind of painting that was loved and beloved.

“Can I see Ari now?” You looked over at Sarah. “You said he was ready when I was, right?”

“I’ll get him down to the spot you were talking about, okay? Then you come down in a few minutes.”

Sarah disappeared from the room and, as you waited, you looked out the window, seeing her and Ari out in the garden. You smiled, admiring the way the tux fit him. Even from afar, he looked so handsome. You reached down, gathering some of your dress, Nat and Yelena gathering the rest, and made your way downstairs.

Ari’s back was to you when you got outside. Both of the photographers were there, too. One was behind you to catch Ari’s face, and the other was behind Ari to catch yours. Your heart thumped in your chest as you walked up to him, Ari bouncing on the balls of his feet as he was equally nervous. You reached your spot and Nat and Yelena let go of your dress, making it look nice and pretty before taking a few steps back.

Taking a deep breath, you reached over and tapped on Ari’s shoulder. Slowly, Ari turned, his baby blue eyes immediately filling with tears, his hand flying up to cover his mouth.

“You weren’t supposed to cry so soon! Now I’m gonna cry!” you said, already wiping away the tears spilling out of your own eyes.

Ari reached out, taking your face in his big hands, his thumbs swiping over your tears. “Oh, sweetpea, you look so beautiful. My beautiful, beautiful wife.”

“You look so handsome, too,” you said, leaning into one of his hands, sniffling. “You cleaned up your beard.”

“Debated on shaving it—”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t!” you said, adding a dramatic gasp. “You know how much I love your beard. Would feel like I was marrying another man if you shaved it off.”

“Can’t have that, can we?” Ari said. He leaned down, nuzzling his nose against yours. His breath fanned over your face as he asked, “Is it bad luck if I kiss you now?”

“I don’t know about bad luck, but I sure want you to kiss me now,” you said, your lips ghosting over his.

“Your wish is my command.”

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to celebrate the love between Ari Levinson and Sweetpea—” Sam coughed, sending you a wink. “—excuse me, Y/N Y/L/N, and to join these two in matrimony. Ari and Sweetpea elected to write their vows, which they will exchange now. Ari?”

Ari looked to you, his eyes shining with tears again. He took your hands in his, running his thumbs over the tops of your hands. “Sweetpea,” he said, “you have made me the happiest I have ever been in my entire life. I’ve been alone for a long, long time. I used to think I’d always be alone. I’d accepted that. But that minute I saw you—the most beautiful woman in the world with the most adorable kid, standing right next to my bike…God, I just knew I wanted to be a part of your life. Didn’t matter what the capacity it was. I just wanted to be a part of it.”

“I didn’t make it easy for you.”

The crowd laughed, and Ari did, too. “No, you didn’t. But I wouldn’t have had it any other way. You were worth it. You were worth every second. Back when I thought I’d be alone forever, I was sure no one would ever love me. But being with you…Even before we started dating, I felt loved. Even before you knew it. Even when your heart was still guarded and you were scared to let me in. And I loved you, too. I always will. When you finally let your walls go down, when you let me love you and you let yourself love me…I swore I would make sure you knew that I would always be there for you. That, anything you wanted, I would provide. Because you made me the happiest man in the world, and all I ever wanted was to make you just as happy, if not happier. Sweetpea—Y/N Y/L/N, I can’t believe that this is the life that I’m now living, but I couldn’t be more grateful for it. I will always love you, through this life and whatever life comes next. I mean it.”

“Oh, Ari—”

“Ah, ah! No kissing until I say so!” Sam teased. “Sweetpea, would you like to say your vows?”

You nodded, sniffling. Behind you, Sarah handed you a tissue, which you took, wiping at your eyes. “Shoot, it’s hard to come after something as sweet as that, but I sure will try.” You looked at Ari, a smile curving across your lips. “Ari Levinson, you are the most amazing man I have ever met. Before I met you, I was sure I’d never love another man again. I didn’t really want to, if I was being honest. It had just been me and Liam for so many years. I got by with just me and him for that entire time. I was scared that if I let another man into my life that Liam or I or both would get attached, and then he would leave, and we’d both be worse off for it. I pushed out a lot of people because of it. But you…You always stayed. I gave every reason for you to run. I was cold, I was a tiny bit judgmental, it took me ages to finally let you even be a friend. But no matter how hard I pushed, you always stayed.”

“I always will.”

“I know, and I’ve never had someone love me like that. Someone who looked at me and decided that I was worth every bit of trouble I gave. And, God, that scared me even more. I was terrified that the second I let you in, you’d just decide I actually wasn’t worth all that and leave. And I really couldn’t handle that. But then you left town for a week for work, and I…hated every second you were gone. I hated being away from you. I didn’t realize how much I cared until you’d left, and I knew that I couldn’t keep doing things like that anymore. I couldn’t keep pushing you away. Not when I loved you. Letting you in was the second best thing that’s ever happened in my life.”

“The first being Liam?”

“The first being Liam. And I haven’t regretted this decision—except, perhaps, that I made you wait as long as I did. Because loving you, Ari…It’s indescribable. You don’t even have to give me anything, you don’t have to do anything beyond being yourself, and I would feel like I was crowned queen of the world. I never thought I’d love a man like this, but I’m so glad I did, and I’m so glad it’s you.”

Ari started to lean in, his hand reaching up to cup your face, but Sam immediately smacked it. “Nuh uh! We exchange rings and then I say when we do the kissing!”

Ari rolled his eyes dramatically, before turning around, and kneeling down to Liam’s height. “Got the rings, bub?”

Liam nodded, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the tiny velvet bag they were being housed in. He opened the bag, and gave Ari the rings.

“Thanks, bub.”

“No problem, Dad,” Liam said, “but don’t make Mom cry like that again, okay?”

“Oh, it’s happy tears, baby!” you laughed.

“Hmm. Well, don’t make her cry that hard out of sadness.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Ari rose back up and turned around, handing you his ring and holding onto yours. “Ready, Sam.”

“Alright, Ari, please place the ring on Sweetpea’s finger and repeat after me.”

Ari placed the ring on your left ring finger. Sam said the words first, a sentence at a time, with Ari repeating, “The fitting of this ring with its unending circle symbolizes my everlasting love for you. The placing of this on your finger is the fulfillment of my dreams to have you as my friend, my love, my wife, to live as one forever. With this ring, I give you my heart. From this day forward, you shall not walk alone. My heart will be your shelter, and my arms will be your home.”

Sam turned to you, doing the same process as you placed the ring on Ari’s finger, you repeating, “The fitting of this ring with its unending circle symbolizes my everlasting love for you. The placing of this on your finger is the fulfillment of my dreams to have you as my friend, my love, my husband, to live as one forever. With this ring, I give you my heart. From this day forward, you shall not walk alone. My heart will be your shelter, and my arms will be your home.”

Sam grinned, finally saying, “By the power vested in me under the laws of the great state of Louisiana, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” Sam looked over at Ari, nodding his head, saying, “Alright, go on, kiss her like you mean it.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Ari said. He took you in his arms, spinning you and dipping you, kissing you hard. “I love you, sweetpea,” he mumbled against your lips.

“I love you too, lover boy,” you said.

“Think we can skip the reception and go straight to the honeymoon?”

“Are you kidding? I wanna eat the cake!”

“Fine, fine,” Ari said. “Cake, then honeymoon.”

“You’re rotten.”

“And you love me for it, Mrs. Levinson.”

“Damn right I do, Mr. Levinson.”

#let's ride: a biker!ari series #biker!ari levinson #biker ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x fem!reader #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x y/n #ari levinson fic #ari levinson fanfic #ari levinson fan fic #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson fan fiction #starrywrites #starryevermore

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foreversecrets · 1 year

Text

When Andy Advocated for Aria

Rogers Family Expansion Masterlist

Pairing: Andy Barber x Aria Pearson (OC)

Summary: After one failed marriage Andy was content to live life alone, but he walks into his sister engagment party and discovers the one person who makes it completely unacceptable for him to continue life as a bacehlor.

Rating: General

Rarely, but occasionally you form a friendship with someone that is strong enough to withstand all the struggles and time itself. Aria happened to be one of the fortunate ones to meet her lifelong best friend, Delilah Levinson when they were both 8 years olds. That friendship became the most important relationship Aria had after cutting herself off from her family. Which is how she found herself at the Rogers Estate to celebrate Deli’s and Bucky’s engagement. At least one of them was getting to end up with their childhood crush, to be fair both Deli and Ari told her to pick a different brother to develop an infatuation for.

The twins always said one day they’d be legal siblings once Aria married into the family. Deli had urged her to give Lloyd a try but Aria found him far too crude and his sense of humor boarding on cruel, she put up with that pairing for a whole two weeks before she confessed to the twins her crush was on Andy. The same Andy the twins believed to be emotionally unavailable, they even thought him asexual at one point and didn’t want to put him in an uncomfortable situation. Then Andy brought his first girlfriend home to meet the family, Aria never stood a chance compared to the thin-almost anorexity thin- Laurie. How could she a plus sized, red-brown hair with dull hazel eyes who’d never met the beauty standards of her peers let alone Andrew Barber, at least not until she succeeded in becoming a successful model. Now she had her pick of suitors from all genders but in her heart she had never recovered from her childhood desires.

The man who was supposed to be here today, alone. When Andy lost ‘his’ son and divorced Laurie, Deli had informed Aria right away. Deli had been so happy when he finally returned to the family but the past feelings were never brought up again. He hadn’t wanted her back then, why should it be any different now?

“Aria!” Deli spotted her best friend the moment she entered the room and rushed over, launching herself into Aria’s arms. “I’m so happy you could make it!”

“My best friend is getting married, of course I made it.” Aria smiled, breaking from Deli’s embrace to quickly give Bucky a side hug and greeting. Instead of engaging in conversation, Deli led Aria towards a small group of her brothers: Curtis, Lloyd, and Ari.

“Lady!” Ari smiled wide calling out her childhood nickname before squeezing her tightly in a bear hug. She has to push him off so she can breathe but she smiles at him nonetheless.

“Curtis, Lloyd, you remember my friend Aria?” Deli asks, emphasizing Lloyd over Curtis making it difficult for Aria to stop her eyes from rolling. Deli was determined but it seemed Ari was on Aria’s side when he shook his head at his twin's efforts.

“I do,” Curtis offers a polite smile.

“Last time I saw you, you were beating the shit out of Ronald Walker for photographing Deli and I in the dressing room at the mall.”

“Should have done worse.” Curtis grunted. Between sips of his beer Aria is able to make out a slight upturn of Curtis lips implying his pride in his actions.

“And what do you remember of our last encounter?” Lloyd smirked trying to garner Aria’s attention.

“You fucking you fist at the dinning room table in your fathers house.'' Her story, though true, was purposely meant to take him down a peg while the others laugh but Lloyd’s arrogance makes him preen. He is well endowed and knows it. Aria integrated herself within the group while Deli was pulled away to engage with other guests. By association she’d been rather close with Ari as well, his presence doing wonders to ease her as she converse with the group.

Andy was really late for the party but he’d spent all day speaking with the women Curtis had liberated to prepare them for the upcoming trial against Rumlow for his transgression against them. Most of them wouldn’t be of help considering how they were struggling to overcome the trauma and therapy wasn’t a magic fix all. Chole Collins was his best bet but that was a little tricky considering the connection that was developing with Curtis. Curtis who was as invested in this case as Steve whose reasons were keeping the family safe, which is also why Steve is paying all medical and mental expenses for the 15 victims.

Offering the happy couple his congradulations then seeks out Curtis to provide him an update on Chloe. He finds him speaking with Lloyd, Ari, and a woman he doesn’t recognize. Curvy in all the right places, red-brown hair, and hazel eyes, she is physically appealing to him in a way he doesn’t expect. His ‘type’ having previously been thin, blends into the background, type of woman. The woman's lyrical laugh fills the room at something Lloyd says, realizing he’s going to have to be more assertive in pursuit of the woman he takes a deep breath and steps up to her.

“Hi, I’m Andy.” he puts his hand out offering her a kind smile but all the humor fades from her eyes as she looks down at his hand promptly ignoring it.

“I’m aware.” was her short replay.

“Have my brothers misled you on my character?” Andy asks looking to the men in question to glare but the men just watch on with barely contained mirth.

“There’s no need Mr. Barber, as you’re perfectly capable of diminishing your reputation all by yourself.” Aria chugs the rest of her beverage and then smiles kindly to Lloyd. “Can you show me to the refreshment table?”

A confused Andy watches as Lloyd leads the still unnamed woman away, waiting until they disappear into the crowd before rounding on his brothers for an explanation.

“You really don’t recognize her?” Curtis asks smugly.

“That’s Aria Pearson, Deli’s best friend.” Ari explained.

“That doesn’t explain the hostility.” Andy’s brows furrow.

“She’d been around since we were all kids, you’ve met her too many times to count and she’d had a crush on you since we were teens. So, not only did you not recognize someone you’ve known for over half your life but you crushed those old feelings she still apparently hasn’t overcome.” Ari says matter of factly, looking over his shoulder out of concern for his dear friend but finds her now conversing with Annie, Steve, Daff, and Frank. A good combination to perk up her mood while Ari deals with his socially inept older brother.

Andy swallowed realizing he was an asshole for not remembering her but how was he to blame for her unrequited love? It's not like she had even told him, teenage Andy’s ego would have inflated but he still would have let her down easy. But it was a weird situation to learn the woman he’d been about to attempt to flirt with had once desired him in the manner he found himself now wanting her. Not knowing how to correct things with Aria, he decided to focus on things he did understand and could control.

“Chole’s given her official statement to police, she said she was okay but I think you should check in with her.” Andy advised Curtis who then nodded, said goodbye and excused himself from the group to go do just that.

“So how are you going to make things right?” Ari inquired, Andy raised his brows at his brother nonverbally requesting her explain his meaning. “You’re interested in her.”

“And you’ve already stated-”

“Shedid but Deli and I have been telling her for years to pick someone else. Hell Deli’s been trying to set her and Lloyd up since we were 15 years old.”

“Lloyd?”

“Her is one of the single-”

“Why not you or Ransom?” Andy was more curious than envious.

“If there was attraction between me and Aria, I would have locked her down ten years ago. And Ransom can’t do a serious relationship.”

“And why wasn’t I an acceptable choice?” He's a little salty about his exclusion from potential suitors.

“Aria has a lot of insecurities that your lack of emotional availability would only hurt her.”

“Emotionally unavailable?”

“Come on Andy, you never talk about your feelings and sadly Aria is the kind of woman who needs constant validation.” Ari chuckles. “I guess that’s how she ended up as a model.”

“I suspect she’s going to be involved in this wedding so I’ll have multiple opportunities to win her over.”

Ari snorted, “Good luck, Deli is going to make it as difficult as possible. She is dead set on Lloyd and Aria.” Ari leaned over and whispered into Andy’s ear offering his brother support. “Between us, I’m rooting for you.”

“Trying to cause discourse in the family?” Andy smirked.

“No, I just think now, with the way we’ve all developed and changed over the years, you are the best suited in our family to marry her.”

“I’ll try not to fuck it up.”

Andy had always been closest to Ari out of all his brothers but his connection to Aria in this manner would provide him with basic assistance, so Andy sought out Steve. Annie had been all star eyes and gentle cooing while Andy told the story to Steve and revealed that he wanted to do right by the women as well as attempt to achieve Aria’s heart. Annie, always a fan of romance and love had practically demanded Steve aid Andy, not that she needed to. Steve was always looking for a way to improve the quality of life for his family.

Steve had urged Andy to join himself and Bucky during their outing to get fitted for the wedding, informing his younger brother that Aria would be in attendance to ensure the men choose suits Deli would deem suitable. Her duties as Maid of Honor were taken to another level as she involved herself not trusting Steve’s sense of style.

When Aria stepped into the shop, Andy couldn’t stop the smirk on his lips at Aria’s annoyance; she didn’t acknowledge him, opting to jump into conversation with the tailor and his apprentice. The conversation panned out well for Andy as he found himself being measured for a suit by the woman herself.

“I owe you an apology for the other day. I didn’t immediately recognize you and I-”

“No need for an apology Mr. Barber.”

“I wish you’d call me Andy.”

“I wish for a lot of things I’ll never receive.”

“Anything I can grant?” he waggled his eyebrows.

“Not unless you have a time machine,” she whispers under her breath.

“Trust me, I wouldn’t have been good for you back then. I was far too selfish and closed off.”

Rage and hurt are bubbling up in her as she comes to realize either Deli or Ari revealed her childhood crush to him. “You mean superficial.” Andy cocks an eyebrow at her. “Laurie was so thin I thought she had an eating disorder.”

“Aria,” he says softly, hoping she will meet his gaze so she can see he is earnest in his response. “I was a dumb kid back then but I’m a grown ass man now who knows better. You are beautiful, I promise you that.” he recalls Ari’s advice on her desperation for approval but he is suddenly doubtful of his verbiage as he sees pain flash in her eyes.

“I know my value, I have always known my value,” she whispers hisses at him, casting a quick glance around to make sure she isn’t causing a scene before continuing her thought. “And having your childhood crush finally acknowledge your existence may be every other girl's dream but I find it insulting that it took over ten years for me to finally be deserving of Andrew Barber.”

He sees tears start to fall from her eyes but has no opportunity to react before she leaves, announcing she needs some air. Once she’s out of the shop Andy lets out an irritated groan. This is turning out to be far more work than he had anticipated, he ponders for only a moment on if she is truly worth the effort. But even as he thinks about it he sees mental images of the couples around him: Steve and Annie, Frank and Daff, Deli and Bucky, and now Curtis and Chloe (kind of)-he pictures their struggles: infertility, abduction trauma, arranged marriages, cheating, and scandals. He has seen first hand how the strongest connections grow and build off strife and by comparison his ‘difficulties’ with Aria are menial, he should be able to come out on top. Now he just needs to figure out how or what to do or say to start breaking down Aria’s mental barriers.

“Go after her!” Steve, Bucky, and the tailor instruct eagerly.

They basically push him out the door to look for her and magically resolve her hurt. He finds her around the side of the building leaning against the wall weeping. For once, Andy knows just what to do to ease her emotions. He pulls her into his arms humming into her hair, his hands rubbing gentle circles into her back as he rocks them slowly. He feels guilty for causing this response even though he couldn’t have known she’d react this intensely.

“I’m sorry, it's not right for me to hold animosity towards you for things you couldn’t even know.” she’d tried to calm herself, focusing on steadying her breathing. He remains patient, keeping his mouth shut as she unloads all the things that are bothering that she’s no doubt kept bottled up for far too long. “But the insecurities and self-hate my father embedded in me and it only intensified the day you brought Laurie to meet your family.” she’s stopped shaking now, tears completely stopped though her eyes and face are still red. But those beautiful hazel eyes look up at him with such melancholy it pierces his heart. “Its by no means your responsibility or fault I just-”

“Hey,” he wipes the drying streaks of tears from her cheeks and cups her face in both his hands. “You’re entitled to your feelings and even though it was unintentional, I contributed to the shitty opinion that has tormented you your entire life. I can’t repair the past but I can assist in your future moments of doubt.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re important to my family and I’d like you to become important to me as well.” he seals his words with a firm press of his lips to her forehead.

“Thank you for coming to check on me,” she finally smiles up at him.

Before he can stop himself he says, “Thank me with a date?”

“”No,” she laughs.

“How about a dance at the wedding?”

“I suppose,” she sighs.

Two months later at the reception, after all the toasts and traditions, Andy finally finds Aria leaning on his chest while they sway for hours, surpassing the one dance she’d been obligated to provide him. The only interruption being the bouquet toss where Chole-Curtis’ official girlfriend, catches the arranged flowers when Daphne-Franks’ girlfriend, slaps it away from herself. Andy makes a note to ask Frank about that later, but for now he spots Aria smiling brightly and eagerly returning to him and that’s all he can focus on. The two being some of the last to leave with the promise of contacting one another soon to schedule their first date.

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justalonelyslytherin · 2 years

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42💡

Thank you for sending in another one 💚

It’s something very different from all the other ideas I talked about. First of all, because this is a Ari Levinson x Reader idea! And second of all because it is an a/b/o story. Now I have a somewhat conflicted relationship with A/B/O verse. For me, it is an extension of the soulmate au/trope (which I love, I can’t get enough of it). I really like the aspect of mates and just biologically/naturally being pulled towards another person. I have the feeling though that the whole trope gets judged a lot, especially for the smut/kink part of it and while I shouldn’t care what other people on the internet think about me, it makes me shy to open up about things like that. I indulge in the whole smut/knotting thing in reading but I’m not really into writing it myself (to be frank I’m too shy to write it or any smut at this point, again fear of being judged also plays a role a bit).

The wip has the title “Beauty idea” which stems from the fact that it is a model!ari levinson x model!reader au, too.

(Divider by firefly-graphics)

It all felt new and somehow…grand. Compared to the lousy little jobs the agency normally sent her to, this was big and exciting. Instead of having her hair and make-up done in a tiny supply closet or on the toilets, this was a proper make-up room. Well, she was in a professional photo studio after all, with a rather famous and well-known photographer.

The job was big too. A whole campaign for the newest fragrance of a well-known perfume brand. It felt like a jackpot and at the same time it made her sad. It was obvious her modeling agency was able to land bigger jobs, yet she only seemed to land the lowest paid, most boring jobs. Something that didn’t look good in a portfolio and wouldn’t help her land anything better.

It made her doubt her capabilities too. Was she such a bad model? Was she not pretty enough? Not appealing enough? Maybe it was her scent? What if her scent was unattractive and detesting? All this doubt and still she kept trying to make it, to find footing in the industry to fulfill and live her dream.

This was her dream Y/N reminded herself. She wanted to do shoots like this, in well-known and big photo studios, with well-known fashion brands, famous designers, and photographers. This was a glimpse at this dream. But she couldn’t help but feel like a fraud like she didn’t belong here like she hadn’t earned it. Y/N tried to blame her nerves for these thoughts, but she had to also admit she had had luck.

If it hadn’t been for the original model going into an unexpected heat, she would have never been given the job. They had only sent her here because everyone else was already booked and she was the only one left.

The make-up artist clearing her throat startled her. The young beta smiled friendly at her, while she held a small brush in her hand.

“I need you to stop biting your lip, otherwise I can’t apply the lipstick.” She felt heat creep up on her cheeks and even further up to the tips of her ears. Slightly nodding she untucked the bottom one from between her teeth. She knew it was a bad habit but it was so comforting at the same time.

The beta smiled at her before she leaned in and started to brush the soft bristles of the brush against her lip. The color was rather natural, only a couple of shades different from her natural lip color. The entire look seemed to be done to convey that she was wearing no or barely any make-up.

They were all so nice here, which definitely did help with her nerves. Speaking of it, one of the assistants tapped her on the shoulder.

“Since you are filling in I have a question for you. Your colleague already answered this after she was booked.” That made her listen up. What could be the case? Hadn’t she already answered all of their questions earlier too?

“Would you be comfortable kissing the male model we hired?”, she asked, “During the shoot?”

Y/N hesitated. She was taken aback by the question in the first place. There hadn’t been a lot of shoots for her with other models, male models even less. She had always said no before and they had just pretended to almost kiss. There certainly were a couple of ways and angles to fake it.

The assistant seemed to sense her apprehension and pointed across the room.

“That’s him.”

Y/N followed the pointing finger across the room. Up until now, she had been alone with the hair and make-up artists, but the door to the room had opened again. In came none other than Ari Levinson. One of the most known and sought male models the industry currently had.

She had to be dreaming. That couldn’t be him taking a seat in the hairstylist’s chair. But it was. It was him in the flesh. For a brief moment their eyes met and when they did he gave her a polite nod before he focused his attention on the stylist.

Not only was she surprised by his beauty - he was even more stunning in person, the pictures couldn’t do him justice - but also by his scent. It had spread everywhere the second he had entered the room, penetrating every object and surface and fickle of air there was. Its strength and fullness made her tingly and dizzy. Her head turned with the sweetness and headiness of it. It was delicious and enticing. Warmth spread through her and left her entirely speechless.

And then she recognized him. It truly was him. There was no doubt. The hairstylist calling him Ari only confirmed it further.

“Soo?”, the assistant drew out the word awkwardly.

“Y-yeah,” she mumbled without even realizing she was agreeing.

“Great!” The enthusiasm startled her out of her hypnosis. The moment she left Y/N realized what had just happened. And now it was too late to change her mind. She had agreed to kiss her modeling partner. And not just any modeling partner but Ari Levinson.

#sly's 100 #sly's writing #ari levinson x reader #model!ari levinson x model!reader

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brookstonalmanac · 26 days

Text

Birthdays 4.6

Beer Birthdays

Caspar Eulberg (1825)

George Ehret (1835)

Five Favorite Birthdays

Merle Haggard; country singer (1937)

Gerry Mulligan; jazz baritone saxophonist (1927)

John Ratzenberger; actor (1947)

Paul Rudd; actor (1969)

John William Waterhouse; English painter (1849)

Famous Birthdays

Pedro Armendáriz, Jr.; Mexican-American actor(1940)

Philip Austin; comedian (1941)

Elizabeth Barrett Browning; poet (1806)

Graeme Base; Australian author & illustrator (1958)

Helen Berman; Dutch-Israeli painter & illustrator (1936)

Frank Black; rock musician (1965)

Zach Braff; actor (1975)

Leonora Carrington; English-Mexican painter (1917)

Butch Cassidy; desperado (1866)

Nicolas Chamfort; French author & playwright (1741)

Mickey Cochrane; Philadelphia Athletics C (1903)

Ram Dass; guru (1928)

Dorothy Donegan; jazz pianist (1924)

Donald Wills Douglas; airplane maker (1892)

Edmond H. Fischer; Swiss-American biochemist (1920)

Vince Flynn; author (1966)

Anthony Fokker; Dutch aviation engineer (1890)

Marilu Henner; actor (1952)

Jason Hervey; actor (1972)

Charles Huot; Canadian painter (1855)

Walter Huston; actor (1884)

Gil Kane; comic book artist (1926)

Barry Levinson; film director (1942)

Feodor Felix Konrad Lynen; German biochemist (1911)

Maimonides; Jewish philosopher, physician & astronomer (1135)

Ari Meyers; actor (1969)

James Mill; Scottish philosopher, economist (1773)

Gustave Moreau; French painter (1826)

Guy Peellaert, Belgian painter & photographer (1934)

Michelle Phillips; singer (1944)

John Pizzarelli; singer-songwriter & guitarist (1960)

Andre Previn; conductor, pianist (1929)

George Reeves; actor (1914)

Hans Richter; Swiss artist (1888)

Raphael; artist (1483)

Jean-Baptiste Rousseau; French poet & playwright (1671)

Levon Shant; Armenian author, poet & playwright (1869)

Sterling Sharpe; Green Bay Packers WR (1965)

Bobbi Starr; porn actor (1983)

Lowell Thomas; writer, television journalist (1892)

Julien Torma; French author, poet & playwright (1902)

Wilhelm von Kobell; German painter (1766)

James D. Watson; geneticist (1928)

Arthur Wesley Dow; painter & photographer (1857)

Billy Dee Williams; actor (1937)

#Birthdays

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pagesoflauren · 2 years

Text

Wooden Façade (1/4)

feat. lumberjack!Ari Levinson and Andy Barber

Premise: Andy Barber is an acting district attorney in Boston, but was raised in the western Massachusetts town of Barber with his parents who run a lumber business, and his younger brother, Ari. Estranged from his family, he decides to help by hiring you as a personal nurse and caretaker of his aging mother. However, Ari, stubborn and prideful, doesn’t take your employment kindly.

Warnings: angst; mention/discussion of neurodegenerative diseases (specifically Parkinson’s disease); swearing; Ari is a hot, stubborn, sexy lumberjack (yes, he’s a warning)

A/N: This is a new short-ish series; right now I’ve got four parts planned, but who knows, it might turn into more. Thanks @eightcevanscentral ✌🏽

Masterlist

Wooden Façade Masterlist

You wondered who was responsible for your terrible understanding of distance.

You knew how many feet were in miles off the top of your head; however, actually knowing how far things were from each other was a different practice.

Your drive took you away from Boston, through the mountains, and into Pioneer Valley. Passing through Springfield, you look for freeway signs that will take you to the region of satellite cities and towns and recall different moments when your father used miles to gauge distance.

“University is only twenty miles from the house, it’s a pretty easy drive.”

“You have half a tank? That should be more than enough to get you a hundred-mile round trip.”

“You have to run a mile and a half for P.E.? That should be easy.”

You roll your eyes at that last one–it wasn’t the slightest bit easy. It should be considered a miracle that one of your lungs didn’t burst in the middle of the fourth lap.

You sighed in relief that you weren’t lost despite following your navigation directions diligently, seeing a wooden-carved sign saying “The Town of Barber Welcomes You.” Though, your directions weren’t taking you to the cabin directly.

Mr. Barber mentioned the remote location of the cabin resulted in it not showing up in navigation apps on smartphones. Instead, he directed you to enter the address for a popular diner in the heart of the town. He wrote down directions for you to get to the cabin from there.

Finding a free spot on a busy avenue, you parallel park and check your side-view mirror for any oncoming cars before exiting carefully with your bag slung over your shoulder. Out of habit, you look to the sidewalk for a parking meter, laughing to yourself when you find none.

Perks of living out of the city, you think to yourself, darting quickly across the street and approaching the door to the diner.

A bell rings above you as you enter, drawing attention from a waitress and the cooks behind the counter. It’s a classic-looking mom-and-pop restaurant: booths along the windows, dark-stained wooden tables, checkered floor tiles, and framed photographs and newspaper clippings all over the walls. With the overcast day, it’s fairly dark inside, the dim bulbs from the lamps hanging from the ceiling not providing a lot of light.

There are a few other patrons scattered across the tables and booths; you’re ushered to an empty one and handed a menu.

“Don’t know if I’ve seen you around here,” the waitress comments, pulling out her notepad and pencil.

“I’m just coming in today,” you answer the question embedded in her statement. “I just got a job.”

“Oh, well, welcome. Hope you find our little corner of the world comfortable. You like cake?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“I’ll send you off with a slice before you go on your way. But, you must be hungry, I’ll let you browse and come back with something to drink for you. What’ll you have?”

She pivots away when you place an order with her and you turn your attention to the menu, scanning over your options for lunch as you shake away the thought that you’ve been transported into a cliche Hallmark movie.

After making a decision and waiting for the waitress to return, you send a text to your employer.

Thanks for suggesting the diner, Mr. Barber. And you were right, they’re pretty welcoming here.

You’re welcome! Glad you’re enjoying. And remember, you can call me Andy.

Your destination–and new workplace–was a cabin over a hundred miles east, near a small town at the base of the mountains and tucked away within a clearing in the forest; semi-off-road (there was a long driveway) but near the family’s historic business. Equipped with a degree in patient care and specialization in geriatrics and your terrible gauge for distance, you eagerly submitted your application for a job listing from one Andrew Barber, semi-famed district attorney.

The pay was handsome and came with lodging within the three-bedroom home.

However, you wouldn’t be working with him.

His mother lived in this cabin, along with his younger brother. The matriarch was in need of moderate memory and cognitive care while her younger son needed to dedicate time to running the family lumber business. According to Mr. Barber, you’d be a perfect fit–and a daughter his mother never got.

Placing your phone face down as your glass is set in front of you, you look up and give your meal order.

Your lunch comes out quickly and you’re done in less than fifteen minutes, feeling surprised at how hungry you had gotten from your drive. Sighing with your belly full, you pay your bill and smile when the waitress keeps her promise, placing a takeout box with a slice of chocolate cake in front of you.

“Thank you,” you say, hoping your gratitude comes through in your tone. Deciding to hopefully build some more rapport, you act as if Andy didn’t give you any directions and ask, “Do you know the way to Oakwood cabin? It’s where I’ll be working. I know it’s nearby, but I couldn’t find it on my phone.”

The waitress opens her mouth to speak but is cut off by a voice to the right of you. When you turn, you find a man wearing an open blue plaid shirt with a gray t-shirt underneath. Both garments are stained with smudges of brown dirt. You try to keep up as he rattles off the directions, nodding along. “It’s a little off the beaten path, but once you find that dirt road, you’re all set.”

Smiling as you thank him, you gather your takeout and bag, making sure to express your gratitude to the restaurant staff before you leave.

You scurry across the street and settle your belongings in the passenger’s seat, pulling out the directions Andy scribbled down for you before you left to corroborate with the ones the man in the diner gave you. Relieved that the directions match, you prop the paper on your dashboard and start your car, following the road to the edge of town and spotting the dirt road accompanied by a worn wooden sign with “Oakwood Cabin” painted in white letters.

As you drive forward, you find yourself underneath a canopy of pine trees, beginning to feel a sense of wonder; you don’t get to see this often. It floods you with a calm you could never get in the city, though you know it will take some adjusting, especially at night.

Suddenly, the trees open up into a large clearing, revealing your home for the foreseeable future. Further down, you spy another cabin still under construction.

Pulling up in front of the first cabin, you sigh as you put your car in park, hoping to sink into the comfortable couch Andy showed you in the photographs of the interior.

Your client emerges as you exit your car, calling to you from her porch as she waves excitedly before bringing her knitted cardigan tighter around her body.

“Hello!” she greets you, “You must be that nurse my son hired for me!”

“Hi,” you smile, “Yes, that’s me. Are you Marcella?”

“I am. Come in, come in,” she beckons you, “it’s so cold and you must be so tired from your trip.”

You lock your car and head into the cabin, ushered into the kitchen where it smells like Marcella just finished cooking.

“Are you hungry?” she wonders, “I’ve been cooking all day waiting for you. Please, sit down and eat!”

Your mind goes to your stomach, still full from lunch at the diner. But when she motions for you to sit with her at the table, her eyes are so sweet that you couldn’t possibly say no.

—---

“Levinson,” Jake calls as he comes back from lunch.

“You’re late, Jake,” Ari gripes. “And don’t use the travel time excuse on me. I don’t pay you to get to and from lunch. Just to–”

“Deliver lumber, yeah, yeah.”

The sarcasm doesn’t quell Ari’s frustration. With Jake late back from lunch, now the next delivery will be late, then all the other deliveries will be late and he won’t get to work on the house before dinner and get his mom in bed at a decent hour–

“But I was held up because someone was looking for your cabin.”

All thoughts in Ari’s mind freeze and he looks to his friend and business partner.

“Yeah, some pretty girl who sounded lost. Guess your mother’s taking things into her own hands and finding you a wife herself.”

“A girl–what?” His brows furrow as he tries to piece together the absolute nonsense that’s coming out of Jake’s mouth.

His mother had been nagging at him to get out there and date, but there’s never really any time when you’re running a lumber business and trying to build a damn house.

Then, it dawns on him.

“Shit. Sammy!”

He pokes his head through the door that separates the front room from the back; Ari wouldn’t call him a “secretary,” but he is the most organized out of all of them, so he just sort of fits the bill.

“What day is it?” Ari checks.

“It’s Friday the seventh. Why?”

As the words register in his brain, he begins to put information together.

“It’s settled now,” Andy had said, voice clear over the phone.

“No, it’s not–”

“I suggest you make peace with this, Ari. She’s coming on the seventh.”

Cursing as he throws the papers down on the desk, he barks orders at the two men. “Make sure you get the Mallard order out in the next five minutes, Jake. Don’t let Rachel pick up your slack, she’s got enough on her plate already. And deliver all the other orders for the rest of the day, I gotta get home.”

“Why?” Sammy pries.

“He’s off to see his girlfriend that his ma picked out for him,” Jake teases, pulling on a vest embroidered with the company’s logo on the breast.

“Fuck off, Jake,” Ari snaps. “It’s just family stuff,” he dismisses Sammy. “Keep me posted, call if anything happens, I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

Practically jumping into the driver’s seat of the truck, Ari drives wildly out of the makeshift parking lot and speeds down the road to the cabin.

He ignores the way his car jostles and rattles violently on the dirt road to his family cabin, cursing again when he sees a small sedan parked in front. His grip on the wheel is tight, more frustration seeping from his head into his muscles as he gazes down the way and sees his on-hold home project. At this rate, it feels like he'll never get it done.

His movements are aggressive as he shifts the gear, activates the emergency parking brake, and kicks the door open. It swings shut behind him and he trudges his way to the front door, not caring what he could possibly be interrupting inside.

He hears a gasp when the door slams against the wall, then moves around the stairs to stand in the living room. Looking into the dining area, he finds his mother dealing cards as she sits across from a woman, face clearly showing how startled she was by his entrance.

“Ari!” His mother says his name in a way that immediately lets him know he’s in trouble, “How many times do I have to tell you not to slam the door?! I don’t want you to waste any more lumber having to make another one!”

“Ma, why didn’t you remind me she was coming today?”

“I figured you had remembered but were just going to work for a few hours,” she shrugs. “Come meet my nurse.”

She mentions your name and you stand up, giving him a small wave before stepping forward with your hand extended.

“You’re Andrew Barber’s brother, aren’t you?” you say.

Setting his jaw and biting the inside of his cheek, Ari huffs through his nose and steps towards you, shaking your hand. “Unfortunately. But here, he’s Andrew Levinson. He probably didn’t tell you that on purpose.”

You don’t have the time to really consider the apparent jab he made at your employer. Standing so close to him now, you can smell the less-than-pleasant mixture of dirt, sweat, and pine, making your nose wrinkle but you try to hide it.

“Something the matter?” he asks suspiciously, hands resting on his hips as he looks at you through narrow eyes.

“No, no, not at all.”

When silence comes over the house, you wish nothing more than for the floor to swallow you up.

“Ari, now that you’re here, you can show her around the house and carry her things in!” his mother insists.

“‘Show her around,’” Ari feigns thoughtfulness as his eyes scan over the house. He’s lived here all his life and through the years, the space has only become smaller to him. “Well, that’s the kitchen and dining area,” he points behind you. “That door leads to the backyard where I chop firewood. This is the living room,” he uses his thumb to gesture to the space with the couch, recliner, and TV.

“Down that hall are the bedrooms; you’ll have ‘Mr. Barber’s’ old bedroom on the left, my room’s across the hall. Don’t hog the bathroom, we share it. Then ma’s room is upstairs, she’s got her own bathroom. I’ve got an office space up there too–don’t touch it. Got it?”

You blink owlishly for a moment before nodding.

“Good,” he smiles.

You never thought you’d see someone smile sarcastically, but there he is.

You purse your lips and announce you’re going back to your car to gather your things, walking back to the chair you were sitting in at the dining table and digging through your bag to retrieve your keys. Ari doesn’t move from where he stands, making you walk around him to exit the house.

Unbothered, he walks into the kitchen and pulls out ingredients for a sandwich. He hears his mother get up from the table and shuffle over. Just as he’s about to tell her to sit down because she can’t be doing any unnecessary physical activity, his right shin stings with a whack from her cane.

“Ah!” he exclaims, hopping away to distance the injury from her; knowing his mother, she’ll go for the same spot if he doesn’t listen.

“Go help her!” she nags. “I didn’t raise you to be so rude.”

He’s too slow to act for her liking, but when she begins to swing back for another hit, Ari immediately backs away from the counter and goes to the door.

“Okay, okay, I’m going!”

He rushes out of the house and stops at the porch, watching you pull out a large suitcase and a duffel bag. The wheels on the suitcase don’t seem to help as you try to roll it over the grass. You end up dragging it with your duffel weighing you down around your shoulder.

Rolling his eyes, Ari descends from the porch and rolls up his sleeves.

“Here,” he offers gruffly, picking up the luggage from the side handle and lifting it off the ground with no effort. “I’ll be honest, I don’t know why my brother hired you.”

“Well, I have a B.S. in nursing, I specialized in geriatrics. And I–”

“Fancy words and acronyms don’t mean anything to me,” Ari cuts you off. “I know how to take care of my own mother.”

“Andy said–”

“Let’s get something straight,” he interrupts again, this time turning around to face you and holding his hand up. “My brother doesn’t know shit. He left us to become some stupid big-shot lawyer in Boston, left me to take over the family business because fuck my dreams, and barely showed up to my dad’s funeral. So I don’t give a fuck what Andy said. I can take care of Ma.”

As he turns on his heel, you decide to tell him what Andy said to you when you asked why he was hiring all of a sudden.

“He knows you have a lot on your plate,” you state plainly. “He said he imagined it must be hard for you to be here on your own with your mom and figured you’d need help.”

He doesn’t reply. He doesn’t even look at you, just keeps walking to the house.

You call his name and his body language shows his reluctance as he stops and turns to face you.

“She won’t get better,” you say. You know that sentence hurts; studying neurodegenerative diseases was difficult enough. Actually seeing in practice was even harder. “It’s a progressive disease, it’s delicate. She needs special care–”

“I know what my mother needs,” he insists. “I’m just here to help you with your stuff, I don’t need any lessons from you.”

You watch as he goes back into the house, feeling deflated. Shaking your head, you decide to finish the current task at hand; helping Ari understand will have to come later.

—--

Marcella took a nap the rest of the afternoon, allowing you time to unpack and get settled into your new living space. The room was about the same size as the one you had in your previous apartment, which was a pleasant surprise.

Tucking your bags underneath the bed and into the closet where they fit, you smooth your shirt down and make sure everything is in its place. Deciding it was finally time for you to try and relax, you head into the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

Grabbing one from the cupboard, you catch movement through the window in the corner of your eye.

Ari’s chest heaves as he breathes heavily, hair hanging in his face as he leans down to place a piece of wood on the chopping block. Prying his ax from the block, he widens his stance and swings the tool back and over his head before bringing it down, the log immediately splitting in half.

You could hate him for the way he runs his fingers through his hair to move it out of his face. It’s unfair how handsome he is–with blue eyes and a rugged look complete with long brown locks and a full beard. It was just unfortunate that he didn’t seem to be happy about your mere presence in the house.

You watch him swing again, mesmerized, only broken from your reverie when you hear the sharp sound of the glass in your hand colliding with the floor and breaking into pieces.

“Great,” you mutter, squatting down and opening the cabinet for the garbage bin. You find a stack of paper bags and grab one to help yourself retrieve all the shards. When the pieces are too small and pose a risk to you cutting yourself, you find a dustpan to gather them all safely and dump them into the bag.

After putting the dustpan back, you place the bag on the counter and wash your hands. Then, you grab the bag to take to the garbage bin in front of the cabin.

As you finish your chore, the sound of a car pulling up to the cabin grabs your attention.

Your head tilts curiously until the driver emerges, greeting you with a wave.

“Sorry to drop in now,” Andy shrugs, walking to the trunk of his car and pulling out an overnight bag. “When you texted me, I found myself wishing I had just driven with you because I haven’t been home in ages.”

“Oh,” you say dumbly. What can you say? It’s not like you live here, who are you to say anything about whether or not he can visit? “It’s no trouble, I’m sure. Your mother will be thrilled to see you.”

“And my brother?”

“Well…his head seems thicker than pine trees, but I’m hoping he’ll come around.”

“Yeah, that’s Ari for you,” he replies, gesturing for you to come into the house.

He holds the door open for you to enter first and you step in to give him enough space to enter and shut the door behind him.

You’re just about to tell him Marcella is taking a nap as you both step into the living room when you hear the back door open and shut. Turning back, you find Ari standing there, still sweaty and messy from chopping wood outside, clear disappointment across his face as he places his hands on his hips.

“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me.”

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#Ari Levinson #Ari Levinson fanfiction #Wooden Facade #ficsofpagesoflauren #andy barber

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wildestdreamsblog · 2 years

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One foot out of town

Pairing: Soft!dark Ari Levinson x Reader

Summary: You are slowly, but surely, retreating from this town. And yet, Ari is surely and slowly liking you more than he should.

A/N: I won’t be around this weekend, and IDK when I’ll be back. I hope you enjoy this chapter :) While likes are well appreciated, kindly also support your content creators by reblogging and/or leaving comments.

Masterlist

Part Four

His phone made a sound, the hotel room he had been staying in was filled with her pictures, only illuminated by the bedside lamp. He glanced at his phone, knowing already who it was.

‘Any news?’

‘Still haven’t found her, boss. But I believe I’m closing in.’

‘I am losing my patience. Find her.’ The powerful man ordered. He didn’t send a message for a moment, but when he did, it made the hair in the back of his neck rose. ‘Or else.’

Two words, and it made all the difference. He sighed before squeezing his eyes shut. She was smart, he’d give her that. She never stayed in a town for more than a few months. It was as if she could sensed him closing in on her. But nevertheless, he would find her soon.

His eyes focused on the last photograph he had of her. He took a drag of his cigarette before digging in the cigarette on her photograph, burning her in the process.

You pushed yourself to your limits today, but the walk home was so peaceful. You were looking up at the clear sky, the heat from the rising sun was pleasant on your face. You smiled sadly to yourself. It was almost hilarious to think that you existed before this town, that there was a you before this, a family before this, an identity before this, diplomas and awards to show that you really did exist. But now, you weren’t that person anymore. And somehow, it was sad and liberating at the same time.

You breathed in the fresh air before continuing your path home when you noticed a huge man running, his hair gently moving with each step he took, the front of his top was damp with sweat, his muscular thighs bared to you. His leg muscles rippled as it took his weight. It was as if he could sense you because he looked up and there you were. He gently lightly slowed down until he was walking to you. With his hands on his waist and as he caught his breath, he sent you a genuine smile. He looked so soft when he smiled as if he wasn’t a 6’5 foot man that could crushed anyone. He looked like a child when he smiled, and it was beautiful.

“Good morning, Ari,” you greeted him, not stopping in front of him as you threw him a nod.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Ari replied, his eyes following your retreating form. There was something about you today that he noticed. You looked serene, like a calm water. Yet, if he hadn’t spent his time looking at you intently ever since he met you, then he wouldn’t have discerned the changes in your eyes.

Darling, you looked downhearted. It was so in contrast to the vivacious energy you always had. And Ari noted that he felt something dark in him when he saw your sad eyes. He hadn’t realized yet but he hated seeing you sad. Ari was about to follow you when out of the blue, you stopped walking away from him. You turned halfway, as if contemplating something for a moment before you looked back at him.

“Ari,” you called after him but when you turned around, you saw that he still hadn’t moved from where you passed by him. If it surprised you, you didn’t show. It was as if Ari was waiting for you to turn around. You didn’t know it yet, but Ari would always wait for you to turn back to him, and if you could not, he would gladly go to you.

He offered you an encouraging smile before tilting his head to the side, urging you to go on.

You looked down at your feet for a second before meeting his intense ones, “Do you wanna have breakfast with me?”

Ari focused on you closely, a thing he hadn’t allowed himself to do since you came into his life. But now, he could finally see the tiny freckle on your left cheek under your eye, the way your eyelashes softly fluttered against your cheeks when you blinked. He noticed the way the light was reflected on your eyes, your beautiful nose, your lips that he had touched with his own once, and then he found out he wanted nothing more than to do it again. But before he could spiraled down to somewhere he had never been before, he snapped himself out of it.

He wasn’t the one for you.

Yet, that did not stop him from saying yes to you.

It was a Sunday morning, the only day you didn’t open your store. The sunlight was seeping through the windows, illuminating the quiet space. Ari was seated beside the window, the table in front of him was filled with coffee and the bread that he adored from the first bite. He politely asked if he could have eggs and bacon with the bread. He even blinked prettily at you when he requested, and he did not think you would say yes. But something about today must have been different because you just shrugged and quickly cooked him egg and bacon. He was patiently waiting for you to return before eating. When you reappeared, you were carrying a small cake with a singular candle unlit. You placed it gently between the two of you and sat down on the seat opposite him demurely.

You started eating, and it only proved to you further what you already knew. Damn, you were an amazing chef slash baker. You gestured to his food that he was eating with much gusto.

“How’s the food?”

He smiled to himself, “Just like how my mom used to make.” He smiled fondly at the memories of his kind mother cooking him breakfast, of how she smiled and it brought warmth in his young heart. He felt safe, he felt loved. Yet sometimes, he could have sworn he was starting to forget how she looked like. And he hated forgetting the only person who loved him wholeheartedly.

“Is it your birthday?”

You blinked owlishly at him, contemplating whether you should answer. But then you thought there was no harm in telling a slice of your truth. “It’s my younger sister’s birthday.”

Ari nodded, “You’re close with her?”

“Was. I was close to her. We used to spend her birthdays together, just me and her. I would always baked her birthday cake,” you looked nostalgic before you lit the candle. “It’s been two years since I last saw her.”

“You must have loved her so much,” Ari commented lowly, watching the pink birthday cake in front of him. “Maybe next year you can spend it with her.”

You crinkled your nose before chuckling, “I don’t know if she even wants to see me anymore,” you leaned in to the cake, closing your eyes and wishing that wherever she was, that she was happy and healthy, and then you blew the candle.

Ari wanted to say that you couldn’t really hate for a long time someone you really loved. But when he looked up to you, you were already animatedly talking about you the cake you were going to make for Molly’s wedding and how excited you were for that day.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, Molly happened to pass by your store when she saw you and Ari. And then Jess, and Isaac.

“A romance is staring, I think,” Jess perked up when she followed where Molly was looking at.

“I am sure the romance has already started, dear,” she replied fondly at the pregnant woman. Jess looked at her confusedly, “How did you know?”

“It’s in the eyes, dear. He hadn’t looked at anyone the way he looks at her.”

Isaac frowned, he was looking at where the two women were looking at and yet, he still couldn’t figured out what they were talking about.

“I-I don’t see it,” he finally voiced out.

The two women sighed as if they were used to this, rolled their eyes, and then Molly bid them goodbye. Jess turned to look at her husband before pulling him away from the store, all while reprimanding her husband, “Oh my God! You’re such a guy, Isaac.”

You were in a staring contest with the fancy equipment Molly was selling in her store. With your arms crossed on your chest, you looked like you were contemplating on whether you should go ahead and purchased it or not. In reality though, you knew you shouldn’t.

“That will be a great investment to your business,” a baritone voice commented on your right. Ari was helping out on the store when he saw you walked in. You were so engrossed with the staring contest you were having with the mixer that you didn’t even notice him walking to you, and he didn’t even try to be quiet. You looked so lost in your thoughts.

You blinked owlishly once you snapped out of your reverie, before turning to him. “It’s you again,” you observed dryly before walking away from him and grabbing some of the ingredients you needed for the wedding.

“You’ve been staring hard at the machine, sweetheart. Why not just buy it?”

“I won’t be needing it for long,” you replied absentmindedly as you neared the counter. “Hi Molly!” You greeted her cheerfully. Molly looked radiant in love. She was smiling more than before, her wise eyes watching you silently, and the tall man following closely behind you.

“This is all?” She inquired and frowned when she saw the few bags on the counter when before, you bought bags after bags of ingredients. “I noticed you had not stopped by the store in a while. Do you still have supplies, dear?”

You visibly stiffened from her question, before you caught it under control and relaxed yourself. With a nonchalant shrugged, you flashed Molly your smile, “I accidentally bought more than I estimated last time, so I still have supplies,” you lied. And thankfully, Molly believed you.

But Ari didn’t. Ari always had an observant nature, more so if it interested him. He noticed that you were selling less and less quantities of pastries and breads. In a few weeks time, he was almost certain your shop would be bare. The only thing he could not understand was why you weren’t restocking. In all honesty, he could see that you were good at what you did. In fact, almost everyone in your small town bought their baked goods there. So it was not a money issue, he thought. Could it be that you were concentrating on Molly’s wedding cake? Ari thought that that was the only probably explanation…for now. Still, he could not helped but asked before ruling out all possibilities.

You were out of the store after promising Molly you would lead Jess at the beach for Jess’ surprise wedding anniversary celebration. Isaac was so excited, saying that this would be the last time it would only be the two of them. Next year, they would have an adorable baby with them. With that in mind, he wanted to make sure that this would be a memorable celebration with the people closest to them. You walked absentmindedly to your store when Ari grabbed the bag you were holding and carried it for you. He continued walking alongside you, his steps lazy as he looked thoughtful.

“Are you poor?”

“What?” You sputtered before looking up at the tall man. You could not believe this man.

“I asked only because you were staring hard at the really not expensive mixer. And then you bought little ingredients. So I’m asking if you needed help financially.”

You crinkled your nose at his explanation, and he only smiled fondly at you. “You really are something.”

“Thanks. So are you?” He prompted once again, shrugging off the waves of annoyance he could feel excluding from you.

“Please, for the love of all that’s holy, be quiet. I can’t even hear myself losing the will to live,” you said as gently as possible, which was not a lot. You fished your keys from your purse and opened the door. You turned to look at him, your hand suspended on air as you waited for him to give you the bags. He only smiled annoyingly, leaning against the door with his face near you.

“You’re not gonna let this go, won’t you? Fine. Two lies, one truth,” you raised your three fingers at him, folding one off with each statement. “I like you. I’m rich-“ your middle finger was the only thing left unfolded. You flashed him the sweetest smile before whispering, “You annoy me.”

“And girl, I kid you not, the sex has never been this good! I don’t know, I’m just more horny. I think it’s true, pregnant women have higher drive. Last night, I came thr-“

“Jess!” You exclaimed, feeling your cheeks heated up with the way people passing by were looking at the two of you. Jess had no filter whatsoever. And that was one of the few things you liked about her. “TMI!”

She laughed, her hand rubbing her belly gently. The gentle heat from the sun and the wind felt amazing as you neared the beach. You didn’t even have to make up a story just to get her to come with you. You just asked her if she wanted to go with you to the beach and she walked to you with purpose, as if she wasn’t waddling because of her belly.

“What about you, huh? How’s sex lif-“

“Jess!” You were mortified at this point. You wanted to walk faster but even you weren’t that cruel to a pregnant woman.

“What?” She asked with laughter in her voice. She continued despite your outburst. “You know who I think is gonna give it to you good? Ari.”

Why were you blushing?

“There is no way a guy built like that doesn’t know how to use his body. I bet he’s got a big-“

“Hey! Come on now. You know I’m not interested on dating right now, let alone him. And it’s not appropriate to talk about a man’s cock,” you explained. Thank god you were almost to the party.

“I was gonna say heart. Ari’s got a big heart. Why? Are you thinking about his down there?” She teased you more, enjoying seeing your squirmed. Jess really thought that you and Ari were a good match. The town had never seen a more beautiful possible-couple until you. There was a bonfire and food on a table set nearby. This was the part where Jess would act surprised. She had to stifle her laugh, she could literally see the top of Isaac’s head under the table.

“SURPRISE!” Isaac, along with the people he invited ducked out from under the table.

She could not helped but smile, “Oh my god, guys! I am so surpr-“

“You knew,” Isaac stated as he hugged her.

“You’re not a good liar, my love.”

You were glaring daggers at Ari who was talking animatedly with few of his childhood friends. He towered over them, his height and form making him looked more commanding despite the simplicity of his clothes. You were angrily munching on your barbecue when he looked at you, as if he sensed you looking at him, and winked. And that made you stabbed another piece of meat.

“Okay, what did Ari do to you now? I thought you guys had a truce or something,” Jess asked from her seat.

“That simpleton asked if I was poor and if I needed his help. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with being poor. What’s wrong is being ridiculously rich that you stepped on weaker people and not give them the same amount of opportunities they need and-“ you breathed in, trying to calm yourself. “Okay I am getting out of context.”

She regarded you for a moment as she sipped her drink. She looked thoughtful for a moment, “Is being asked if you were poor the thing annoying you? Or is him offering you help?”

You didn’t think of it that way. Perhaps, there was still the girl in you who fought so hard for independence that you never wanted to ask for help from anyone, the same stubborn girl who made it out alive. You knew there was nothing wrong with asking for help, but why then were you triggered when he offered you one?

Or maybe, he was just really an annoying man and he was getting into your nerves.

“Sweetheart, could you pass me a soda?” He asked once he neared you, his smile was pleasant but you were far too insulted still.

“Sure!”

With a mischief in your eyes, you evilly shook the can of soda. You were laughing in your head, forgetting that you and Ari called a truce. You heard him wishing Jess a happy anniversary. And as the two conversed, you shook the bottle harder. When you were contented with the soda, you turned around and handed Ari the soda he asked for. You inched away from him innocently, watching him from the corner of you eye. You heard the hissing sound of the bottle untwisting- and then the soda exploded all over his shirt.

“Fuck,” he lightly swore, looking down at his now drenched shirt. Without a word, he slowly turned to look at you, shaking his head at you as if he was a teacher disappointed with his student’s bad behavior.

“Oh no,” you said in a deadpanned voice. “I’ll get you a tissue, sweetheart.”

“Not necessary, darling,” he drawled lowly, his eyes not leaving you as his large hand found the back of his shirt, and slowly took it off. Inch by inch, his sculpted abdomen was revealed to you. His tanned skin, the hair on his chest, the way the muscles rippled- all of them was distracting you that you didn’t notice Isaac covering Jess’ eyes beside you. “It’s time for a swim, anyway.”

He smirked at you as he neared you, his hulking body inching closer and closer to you that you involuntarily stepped back. “Wouldn’t you agree, darling?” He moved so fast that before you could blink, he was carrying you to the water, with his manly laughter and the hoots and whistles of the people resounding all the way.

You wiped the water on your face minutes after he unceremoniously dunked you in the water. Not long after, the local joined the two of you. You never imagined you could laughed so hard, had so much fun, and felt like you truly belonged.

“Sweetheart!” He shouted somewhere, asking for your attention.

“What?” You shouted back once you located him across from you.

“Wanna jump?” He pointed at the cliff where the others were already jumping from to dive in the sea. You were already shaking your head before he even finished. “Or are you too scared!”

Okay so in hindsight, you probably should not let him goad you into trying this. You looked down from the measurable height, peeking to the blue waters. Ari had already jumped twice, and you still hadn’t jumped. He was running his hand through his wet hair as he looked up at you, “I’m here! Don’t be scared. I’ll even catch you if you want!”

“I don’t care!” You shouted back. “Humans aren’t made to jump from this height!”

“Well, I did it!”

“It’s because you’re not a human! You’re a monkey!”

He laughed heartedly before swimming to the shore. You thought he gave up on convincing you that minutes later, when you turned around, he was walking to you with a smile on his stupidly, handsome face.

“Let’s jump together,” he said before confidently grabbing your hand, his hand warm against yours. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you, sweetheart. What do you say? Hmm?”

You didn’t know why you nodded, or why you trusted him, or why you believed in him. But you found yourself stepping away from the edge of the cliff with Ari counting to three. The two of you run full speed to the edge, and then took a leap. The second you were falling, you felt freer. You didn’t feel scared. And all the time you were falling, Ari was holding your hand. The cold water surrounded the two of you, falling deeper in the water. And still, he didn’t let go of you as the two of you swam to the surface.

You were smiling like a child, your hands now on his bare shoulders, his other hand resting on the small of your back.

He watched you smiled, your real smile. And God, it was beautiful.

“Told you I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” he drawled lowly, becoming aware now more than ever of your close proximity to him, of the way your little hands clasped at his shoulders. The wave moved you closer to him, as if the sea was pushing the two of you into the unknown. With great gentleness, he wiped the water off your face.

You swallowed, your eyes focused on his plump lips, of the way his tongue licked his lips as if he was anticipating. He leaned in closer, his other hand gripping your jaw, angling your face closer to his.

“We shouldn’t,” you whispered, but even you moved an inch closer to him.

“We should,” he drawled lowly, his eyes darkening with anticipation and lust.

“This is a bad idea,” you tried to convince him further. He was the only one who could stopped, because you were too enthralled to stop him. He was the most enchanting man you had ever seen. He smirked when he heard your breathy voice.

“Agreed.”

And then he was kissing you. When he told you what happened before wasn’t a kiss, and that you would know when he finally kissed you, you finally did believe him. Because the way his lips met yours, filled with passion and need, made you breathless. His tongue explored yours gently, as if he was terrified you’d pushed him away, but wanting enough to know how you tasted like.

This was troubling, you tasted like his.

Next Chapter

#ari levinson fic #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson angst #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson #ari levinson au #ari levinson x you #soft!dark ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x y/n

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matchamorphosis · 2 years

Text

𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊: 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒌

━━━━━➛ “𝐼’𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑛𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑎𝑚𝑛 𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑝𝑢𝑡 𝑎 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠. 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑝𝑠.”

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 — a night of dirty dancing with two lovesick strangers leads to you inviting them into your home and into your heart.

𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 — ari levinson × clay appuzzo + ari levinson × (f)reader + clay appuzzo × (f)reader

𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 — +18 nsft || reader is 21 and ari & clay are 42. reader is a part-time stripper and café waitress, ari is a erotic novelist and clay is a nude photographer. papa//daddy kink. alcohol mention. marijuana mention. falling in love with strangers. drunk but consensual kissing: consent is key folks. minors dni.

𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 — part one < part two. masterlist. taglist. library acc.

The waxen crescent spreads across the palette of indigo sky, similar to the flourishing shores washing over the blond sands stretched outside the copplestone boulevards.

It’s pearly flair strikes through the open windows of your apartment, glossing the blooming redness of your dresses silk that flows with the movement of your limbs. The color drowns Clay Appuzzo in its delicate purity, it makes his clean-shaven cheeks rise to embody the same pigment.

Why? because, his heart is fleeting through the crashing waves, and they pull him back into the reality. This is not a dream.

The warm hand of his lover holds his thigh, rubbing his loins till his bottom lips finds a haven in between his teeth. A smile you gift him like a love song, a smile Clay believes no beloved saint can receive and no desperate sinner can offer.

“You don’t have to do that strawberry, let me.” large, calloused hands take the bottle of spirit from your hands and pour the liquid into three glasses.

Ari’s touch helps the anxious state you try to conceal ease, another type of smile forms on your lips when Clay takes your hand in his. Feather light caresses of your fingers against the ruby of his ring, the skin on his knuckles and it makes the dark sea in Clay’s heart roar with moonlight.

“I think you both should know that I really shouldn’t be drinking. I have work waiting for me in the morning.” you confess, raising the rim to your glass back to your lips and taking another sip.

“And so do we sweetheart but it seems only one of us know each other’s professions. Care to tell us what you do for a living?” the question swims in your ears, your fingers play with the rim of your glass as your heart plummets.

Once upon a time you were happy having that job at the cafe down the coast, you got to taste the salty breeze on your tongue and the sunshine on your skin. The elements only intensified when you fell for no good men that carved their initials into your heart, and threw it away like the same receipt they’d ask you to write your number down on.

“Well, if you call waiting tables and pouring coffee a profession then I’m at the top of my job.” you answer, your finger still circling the rim of the glass till it sings.

Now you hated the scratchiness of your uniform dress that you once didn’t mind. You hated the white aprons you’d unluckily spill trays of coffee on over the slip of a step. You hated the late afternoons when you’d come home with mascara running down your cheeks from serving couples all day, knowing you’ll never find that kind of love that won’t end in heartbreak.

“That must be a good thing though, you must get some sort of discount for serving pretentious people all day. Don’t you?” Clay smiles, and you can’t help but laugh despite the fact that you don’t get any benefits, but he was right about the amount of entitlement the customer seems to have.

“You mind if I take a look through your shelves?” Ari joins the conversation, his eyes that before admired how beautiful you looked with the cityscape and starry twilight behind you pouring out of the open window.

Now his eyes searched through your apartment and admire how tall the bookshelves bearing rows of books were. Compared to how tiny your living room is and how tiny you are, Ari looks to you for permission.

“Ari likes t'read a person's character based on the books they own.” Clay assured, "'nd he thinks he can list down everything about you just 'cause he read some Sherlock Holmes." Clay snorts and you can't help your smile from growing.

"No Ari I- I don't mind." your voice is a little rough at the edges but only out of the possibility that Ari will find your hidden collection of-

Before you can finish that anxious fear, Ari gets up but not before taking your hand in his. "I need you to be my guide, strawberry. Do you have any favorites?" the warmth in his large grasp sends a masquerade of sparks throughout your body.

Although after you rise from your seat at the tiny kitchen table, Clay holds your waist and takes you into his lap, "I don't know Ari, I really enjoy our strawberry's company. Why don't you look through her library and she can stay here with me."

Clay sends Ari a wink and the man with the brown honey hair smirks, you don’t know if it’s at Clays comment or the flustered state you're spiraling into. Maybe it’s both, either way you don’t mind Ari’s sharp aquas that shines with mischief in the porcelain moonlight.

Each step his tall figure walks away from the homely kitchen to look at your books is a thud in you chest. Clay’s hands longer, they give soft ghostly touches on the bounty of your waist, his calm breath washes over the bare skin of your neck. The cool sensation is similar to the foaming waters of the beaches, and you allow him to take your body and senses into his gentle tide.

“Are you feeling alright, strawberry?” Clays olive green eyes resemble the sangria bottles you used to paint in the summer time with a blunt between your lips, bringing a comfort and shudder to your longing heart.

“Yes, I’m alright. Just feeling dizzy, the really good kind of dizzy.” you whisper, washing down another sip of the spirit as his hand holds your face.

The deep red tinted on your lips paints the glasses rim and you suck in a breath when Clays warm gentle touch holds yours. A thumb brushes the skin of your back hand, he takes your glass half empty with spirit and brings it to his lips.

The action, of his lips directly where you put yours is not a physical turn on but it still pulls you deeper and deeper into his now stirring waters. The reflection of his white teeth shine in the light and you hear the rustling of Ari humming which makes you shift in Clays lap.

“That’s good ‘cause I’m feeling dizzy to, like I’m dreaming. Do you wanna wake up from this dream y/n?” Clay’s words pierce an arrow through your heart, and it stings with addictive pleasure when his lips press against yours.

“No, no I don’t wanna wake up. I wanna dream with you, forever.” you sigh against his mouth, your hands twine with his charcoal traces that frame his face.

Kissing him like he’s the holiest thing you’ve ever seen, hard and soft then slow and hard again. You pull away to take in a breath but only to press your lips over his face, behind his ear where you discover a tattoo in the shape of a shaded lip.

The sounds of your wet kisses makes Ari turn his head over his shoulder and drink in the way your fingers have twined with Clays hand while his hands cup your face. The novelist looks over to his partner, who drinks from your glass of spirit with your lipstick stain still painted on the lid.

The flow and rotation of his hands massage the tempting curve of your back till the rest and squeeze your ass. Little pretty moans escape your strawberry red mouth, you kiss every exposed area of skin on his neck and face leaving the masterpieces of your lipstick stains in your wake.

The scene is just as good as what he has just discovered, the little private showcase of all your scandalous erotica just for your eyes to see and enjoy. Ari’s fingers trace each hardcover, colors shading from deep grapefruit to citrus lime peel.

What makes Ari’s heart thump, his abdomen muscles tighten, and his loins burn is when he sees his name on each book— you have every novel he’s ever written, right here on this single bookshelf.

Ari knows you might have everyone who's been in this living room fooled with your bookshelves of sweet romances and poetry collections, except for him. His work isn't the most chaste, and you have each copy of his writing in wrinkly condition, as if you've read his story over and over again that the spines have stretched the times you've opened to each specific sex scene.

The novelist takes one of his books from the collection, Girls Don't Cry, and opens it to the back cover. His eyes read the little private note Ari has signed along with his signature, alluding that this is the first edition. Bown brows are raised in surprise, his thumb traces the lipstick kiss following it below his name.

Ari takes each book out, each novel he's written, and he is met with the same shock that sends heat to his cock. All his books that you've collected are autographed and each chapter that you love is bookmarked with a lipstick kiss. Rosy fingertips trace the details of the blooming red mark within the open book in his hands.

“I know you probably think I’m just a silly girl with no shame or no dignity, but I want to tell you that I really… I really am a big fan of your work.” your voice picks up and Ari's shoulder straighten, he turns his head to face you.

Strawberry lipstick fading away from the kisses you've given his boyfriend, the evidence of it taunted on Clay's lips and face. Strings of vulnerability threads tightly around your vocal cords, like violin strings pitching in their heighten climax.

“I don’t think you’re a silly girl y/n, loving to read and collect romance and erotica is nothing to be ashamed of. I’m flattered you have so much of my work and you grace it with kisses.”

Ari himself can't recognize the sudden lowness of his voice, your eyes gloss with affirmation that the novelist and photographer believe you hardly get enough of. It brings the corners of the novelist's liquor-soaked lips up in an amused smirk.

Returning the book back where you categorized it, your eyes softly look at the exposed skin of his waist and you notice the lines of a lip tattoo on his hipbone. Ari’s contact locks with your body spiraling in pleasure as you shift in Clays lap in embarrassment. Although, still allowing the green-eyed sinner to press open-mouthed kisses and teeth marks to your bare shoulders.

Clay's low moans and wet sucks are the cause of your little whimpers fill the room, Ari steps back into your small kitchen and into his seat across from Clay.

“You know, Ari, I loved your Lust for Life series..." shy eyes become more confident as the moonlight fills the room and you finally meet Ari's eager glance.

"I had a feeling you did, your little notes in the margins made my heart soar strawberry. How did you feel about the ending?" Ari whispers, his sudden craving for feedback makes Clay smirk knowing that Ari secretly loves being praised.

"I was so upset when the series ended because I was so fond of Roslyn, especially how you wrote her character. She was so dimensional, you rarely see that quality for a woman in erotica.” the confession makes Ari smirk, pride radiating off him in streams that reflect off the honeycomb lamp in the small dining room.

“Although—” that second thought made Ari’s heart pound, and he doesn’t understand why. The silk-like aura of your voice was something magnetic to his senses, something that made his instincts delirious.

“I resonated and found more comfort with Parish’s character in Girls Don’t Cry. It’s been my favorite of yours and it’s been so for a while. If you don’t mind me saying, I know it isn’t exactly one of your most popular novels.”

Girls Don't Cry was the very first book Ari published and it wasn’t a financial success nor a culture break involved in the social circles of society when the topic is sexuality was introduced. Despite Ari putting everything he had in that book it was a lesson he had to learn the hard way when it came to writing. An admonition he reminded himself that he solely wrote because he loved to write and not for any form of fame or gain.

What still surprises Ari though is the fact that you have a first edition. Most of those copies of Girls Don't Cry are either tucked away in the far off shelves on Dime stores collecting dust or hidden under the beds of married woman’s bedrooms and only taken out when their husbands are away at work.

“I hope I didn’t shock you or anything by that.” you break his haze, a light gasp breathing out of you when Clay’s hands play with the sweetheart neckline of your dress, teasing your spilling tits.

The smile you display is like a string of Tiffany pearls, enchanting Clay with every finger you twine within his hair and allowing him to press his open mouth kisses onto your neck. Batting your lashes when he bites down on a certain area of skin, your hooded eyes engrossed with a heavy lewdness, they capture all of Ari’s attention.

So hypnotic you’re pulling at his stiff heartstrings with ease, Making Ari wonder if you knew how helpless you made people— how helpless you made him.

“I’m sorry if I offend you Ari. I hope we can still talk more about your books.” your voice breaks through his head crowding and plastered in strawberry lipstick and the aura of sex and breath you radiate.

“Oh no, no! You didn’t offend me at all. I don’t- I don’t mind it at all, sweetheart. No one mentions my earlier novels, it’s just— it’s really refreshing. I don’t mind it at all, you know uh— as an author praise really gets the gears up here working.” Ari stutters as he gestures to his head, and immediately Clay chuckles lowly.

“Yeah, nothing like a praise or two to butter him up and get him to work.” Clay draws nonchalantly, unaware that you are here and to Ari’s worry he hopes you didn’t catch the intention of the remark or understand it.

But Clays words and actions still paint a deep rose underneath Ari’s cheeks, blushing fiercely as he tries to cool his fluttering nerves with another shot of spirit.

“And speaking of you getting to work… I really enjoyed your recent book, Cherry Chapstick. It almost tops Girls Don’t Cry… There’s something special about it.” you bite your bottom lip when Clay slips one hand underneath the low neckline.

“Oh really? There is now.” Clay rasps, his raven brows raised as he pope his lips off your neck before glancing lewdly in Ari’s direction.

It’s taking the will of a miracle to not make him melt under both your lust drunk stares, the tranquil curve of your bountiful hips and the majestic arcs of your breasts make a never ending maze in Ari’s labyrinth mind.

“Why don’t you enlighten us, strawberry. I’d love to hear your thoughts, I know you’re smart to know what the book is really about. Unlike those horny housewives and amateur college students at his meet and greet tables.” you shiver as Clay rasps in your ear, giving the shell of your ear a lick then a little bite.

Oh Clay once thought earlier in the night about twirling you under the canvas of twilight sky behind you. Thought about capturing the striking serene of your smile, the mysterious twinkle in your eye begging to be polished into stars. Now he’s thinking about fucking you, letting you envelope him in the divinity that is falling for someone you just met.

Ari eyes outline Clays, brows cross at what game his boyfriend is playing at. “No you don’t, you don’t have to answer that question—”

“And why the fuck not? I mean, our strawberry is such a huge fan of your work. Let her answer, I know you want to hear her answer...” Clay eggs on and Ari knows these sudden gashes are all due to the pressure of keeping their relationship hidden from the media.

Ari knows that Clay’s soul aches at the fact that his love for Ari is being kept a secret and Ari knows that his lovers heart is breaking when Ari still keeps his love for Clay a secret.

“Go on dolly, answer the question.” Clay whispers, ignoring Ari’s hesitance and caution because Clay knows that you’re going to understand.

Not just the book, Cherry Chapstick, but them— he and Ari.

Sitting up against Clay’s lean chest, you fiddle with your fingers, “Well, from reading the story— it’s very clear that this is a story very close to you. Anyone who’s read your work knows that this isn’t like your other novels, it’s more personal.” a little sigh of pleasure slips from you when Clay holds and massages your tits.

“And, I think it’s very important to note the fact that you do not use specific pronouns to specify “the Angel with cherry chapstick”. You just use masculine orientated descriptions to detail Adam's love interest yet alluding to feminine qualities when Adam and his Angel have sex—” you stutter out a deep moan and a series of whines when one of Clay’s hands stop giving attention to one nipple and slip in between your thighs.

Poor little you tears up when Clay’s single hand slips under your lace panties, the other still groping your tits. Ari feels his pants getting tighter from the sight of the prominent wet spot, the way your tits fit so well in Clay’s hand and the strong scent of your wetness glistening your spread thighs.

“Al-Although, you said that the story and perspective is up for whatever interpretation the reader has. Besides the plot lining the struggle of finding love and being happy with who you are sexually. I think it’s for a specific purpose— Papa, please! It burns, please make it better.” you whine as Clay slowly rubs light circles onto your soaked pussy.

Clay kisses the skin behind your ear, nuzzling his nose into your hair whilst you brace your scrunch hands onto the corduroy material of his olive button up. “Shh strawberry, Papa promises he’ll make i’all better, just finish answerin’ your question for Daddy.”

Ari nearly comes in his pants from those words, wondering when this little conversation of you calling Clay Papa and he Daddy started but he can’t help but not care as he strokes his cock through his jeans.

You sniff and nod your head, receiving a kiss on your hairline from Clay as you continue: “In the Acknowledgements you wrote that the story is for a very special love in your life… And I think I know who you wrote it for and what it’s about.”

oh how bright and attentive to detail you are.

Ari’s heart thumps and pumps, in disbelief how you’re so close to stitching all the pieces together. The discipline you’re holding within your clutch to keep spilling fact after fact through those heaven crafted lips even though Clay distractingly rubs your cunt in sensually slow circles.

His lover humming into your disheveled hair, a prominent smirk plastered on his mouth as he gives Ari a wink in approval to keep going. Subtly bitting down on his own lip, Ari raises a brow at you before getting up from his chair and pushing it back in. Shaking the table and tilting he glass of spirit but the three of you don’t care.

“Oh really? Then answer my question, strawberry,” Ari drawls as his finger and thumb clasp around your chin, angling those pretty starlight eyes to meet his unchaste blues.

“Who did I write Cherry Chapstick for?”

That mischievous pout that pulled his heart and continues to make his cock throb turns into a form of parted pursed lips. Something dirty and slutty that would tease the cover of Playboy magazines Clay would shoot and frame in his executive office.

“What if I get the answer wrong?” your voice hushed, licking your lips at the sight of his bulge begging to be released from the tight confines of his navy blue jeans.

“Then me and my friend here have to go.” Ari could see Clay detesting, a scoff rings out and the seething glare hits him hard it might as well shatter his ribcage.

Ari can’t help but smooth his thumb over them, although he reserves himself from crashing his mouth against yours despite how inviting it looks. A constellations of emotions spark in your eyes that confuse Ari, twinkles of concentration and apprehension imbedded as you look away from the tall broad man and into the spirit reflection of your crystal chalice.

“And if I get it right?” you reflect, secretly liking the sudden bottom lip caresses Ari lavishes upon you.

“Then I suppose we could stay for a while. Do whatever you want to do.” Ari answers and his body set on fire when your lips part to suck on his thumb, both in thought and taking the risk of seeing if he likes it.

The mood ring wrapped around the same finger radiates in a satin pink glow, it makes Ari’s face transfer to a strawberry tint that make Clay chuckle. The three of you know that Ari’s yearning to feel you suck on something else of his but before you release his thumb from the pleasurable torture of your mouth, you get off of Clays lap.

The drag of your strapless, low pump heels is the only sound in the small apartment that usually battle with the spinning Ella Fitzgerald record. The eyes of the two gentlemen rest on the bareness of your back that the crimson body fitting dress doesn’t cover, their eyes and minds shamelessly undress you with every sway your hips pull and flow.

“I think… that you wrote Cherry Chapstick for the man you fell deep in love with. The same man you’ve been working with since you published your first book.” your voice seems to echo in the apartment, your words making Ari’s atoms vibrate as Clay grins.

“I think… that you wrote Cherry Chapstick for Clay Appuzzo, because once you both passed the line of business associates you both were friends desperate for each other’s attention and love. But that wouldn’t make you friends anymore…”

Ari looks over to his Angel in chapstick, in his mind that’s been collapsed and rebuilt a hundred times, he sees Clay with dove wings. So big and wide, pearly white just like the crescent that pools the three of you in and out of focus.

“Because friends don’t look at each other the same way you both do, and friends don’t have tattoos of each other’s lips on their bodies. Aren’t I right? Don’t you see the answer?” you implore, fear takes a hold of you but you still manage to gather the courage to spin your body around.

Hues of ocean blues and bottle greens capture your frame, splotches of comprehension and reverence bleed onto the palette, desirous strokes of lust brush the canvas— but the painting is blank when the silence between you three pursues.

No presence of fear or uncertainty takes up the room between you and the two gentlemen at the table as you walk closer and closer. Ari seems to have seated himself besides Clay and you can see the bulge in both their trousers when you situate yourself on the faux antique lounge couch.

“Is that your answer, strawberry? You seem so sure, aren’t you getting to in your head saying these things?” Ari speaks, wanting to walk to your figure and kiss you, both for understanding the love language in his work and understanding him and Clay.

“Kiss him, if you don’t you're not just going to break my heart but his too.”

That statement is as true as rain and Ari wants it to wash away the lipstick stain cigarettes that crowd his ashtray for a heart.

The same persistence from fear that striked him down hard that moment when he was rushing to dance with you across the dance floor returns to Ari once more.

This time he knows that you aren’t just a simple woman of the night, but faith really has but you three together for a reason. The stars shine and the moon glosses impossibly bright, the music of changing times is heard in the symphony of Clay’s stitched heart mended from all heartbreaks.

kiss him, kiss him, kiss him— your words fill their heads and it’s a hopeless kind of infatuation that spills into their bloodstreams and makes their heart beat jump out of rhythm.

Clay holds the back of Ari’s head the same way he holds a cup of sunshine, his fingers twining within each honey brown lock. The glance you have on them can be felt but not feared, Ari leans in and presses Clay’s lips with his own.

Tasting the cherry chapstick on his boyfriend's lips, indulging in the hunger that drives Ari to kiss him for hours and hours and denying himself a single moment to breathe. The sensation of exhilaration is something Clays drunk on, and he knows you love seeing it.

Witnessing the sweet tenderness of the kiss turn into something more delirious, Clays hands at the buttons of Ari’s pollo and Ari’s tongue slowly slips into Clays mouth. Accents of wet smacks from hungry lips pave a path of warmth down your body, a heavy slowness enveloping your senses as if you're drowning in ruby red honey.

Hands flow down your side, your hand resting in between your thighs but not tearing your eyes away. Lewd wetness soaks your clit as you watch Clay sucking hard on Ari’s tongue, heavy moans yearning for more fill your ears as your eyes catch sight of hands slipping under shirts and fingers unbundling belt buckles and zippers.

But it all stops suddenly, because just when you rub at your cunt their walking slowly to you. Their eyes taunted with unchaste thoughts, yours reflect the same desire and it makes Ari hold your chin gently. Giving your bottom lip slow caresses, he looks over to Clay who strokes your cheek with his knuckles.

“Well well well, our strawberry figured out our little secret after all. What do you suppose we do, sweetheart?” Clay whispers, a glint of mischief in his greens that make you feel like you’re finally not dancing alone in the ballroom of your mind.

Ari smiles, something soft but so filthy just as the suck you give to his thumb, your fingertips playing with the mood-ring tinted pink that’s wrapped around the digit.

“What ever our strawberry wants, she’s knows a whole lot about us to figure out what we want with her.” Ari’s low voice thrums like a soft thunder and your waiting for the blissful rain to pour on you.

“What do you think strawberry? Do you want to wake up from this dream?” Clay whispers, his face plastered with your lipstick kisses so close.

An urge to reapply another coat to press more all over each inch of skin you wish to paint with your lips. Releasing Ari’s thumb from your mouth, you still play with the mood-ring on his thumb.

“I want to keep dreaming. I want this dream with you both. Promise to not wake me up, will you?” the knuckles that stroked your cheek hold it tenderly and the thumb that you sucked on caresses your lips again.

“We promise you strawberry.”

━━━➛ thank you for reading! i’d appreciate it if you’d reblog// leave a comment on your thoughts. see you soon for part three! ♡

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — @lavendercitizen . @babyyhoneyydarling . @versacebutera . @honeychicana .♡

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