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lovedlocket · 3 years ago

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➧ 𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐨𝐲: 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | beefy frat!rugby player!Ari Levinson x nerd!reader

��𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | SMUT - minors DNI, size difference: 6’8!Ari, big big boy!Ari, dirty talk, daddy kink, dumbification, hint of dacryphilia, major size kink, wet and messy, dry humping-to-panty fuck (?)-to-unprotected sex (pussyjob), spitting, praise kink, degradation, finger sucking, squirting, lots of cum.

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Ari is your best distraction, and he knows it.

𝗪/𝗖 | 1.84K

𝗔/𝗡 | hi besties, here’s the winning prompt from this poll, I also voted for this one hehe. be warned, i’m going into my big boy lover era. there’s no masterlist for this au, everything is under #thick frat boy ari and drabbles are linked on my polls drabble masterlist (linked below). as always, all mistakes are my own and i hope you enjoy !!

˗ˏˋ𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Truthfully, you should’ve never invited him into your dorm. You promised yourself to dedicate the day to only studying, you were going to bury your nose in textbooks, review lectures, and catch up on deadlines without any distractions.

But then he wouldn’t stop texting you:

I miss you. When can I see you?

Do you not love me anymore :(

This was your first serious relationship, so you were still getting the hang of it and fell for his adorable selfie, his lips in a deep pout as he held one of your plushies against his face (you didn’t know he took it).

I guess Mr. London and I will just spend the day alone… and die of boredom if we’re lucky.

He was your favourite distraction and you were so pathetically weak to his charms and sweet smile. And you loved seeing him with your plushies too! How could you not let him in when he brought you lunch and your favourite sweets from the bakery in the city?

Those current gifts sat forgotten on your desk, alongside your books and laptop. So much for studying today…

“That’s my good girl, come for daddy again. Make a stupid mess for me.”

His previous load seeps through your panties, smeared by the underside of his cock as your second orgasm topples over. You cry out his name and scratch his tummy, your juices spurting out and adding to the shameful mess between your thighs.

“Good girl, you’re doing so good, cub.” He groans, feeling your squirt coat his length, dripping down to his balls and inner thighs. “Wasn’t I right? My little nerd needed a break—and look at that fucking face,” his fingers dig into your cheeks, “you needed this more than me.”

Still riding on your high, your mouth drops open and he knows what you want. “Daddy can’t spit into your mouth when you’re up there, dummy.” He chuckles when you fall onto his chest and squirm as if you’re trying to crawl into his skin—and you kind of are.

You weep into his hairy pecs, drooling on him. You always got dumb like this with Ari, it was inevitable. “Closer, please.”

“Hush, cub, daddy’s right here.”

“Want you closer—” You nuzzle his warm chest, but it still isn’t enough.

He stifles a laugh, “this is as close as I’m gonna get without being inside you.” Your bottom lip wobbles and he coos, “awh, you wanna be squished, baby? Is that it? You wanna get really close?”

Feeling his weight on top of you was so comforting, you’ve never felt safer than when he was nearly crushing you flat. It made the rest of the world a little quieter, your thoughts silenced by his slow breaths and beating heart. You have yet to find another favourite position than the intimate squishing.

“Pretty please, daddy.”

He can’t deny you when you ask so nicely. He rolls over so you’re under him and lowers until there isn’t a sliver of air between your bodies. With your thighs around his waist, his head tucks into the crook of your neck and he rocks steadily, the veiny underside of his cock dragging along your ruined panties.

You can still breathe but not without it sounding wispy, and your day has become more than perfect.

He’s so thorough, murmuring soft praises in your ear while he grinds your most sensitive parts together. Tip to balls then back again, making you feel every inch of him. He lingers with his sack against your cunt, his voice dropping to a low rumble.

“Feel so fucking good, cub, you’re doing so good for me.”

You feel his thick tip between your tummies, thick and hot, and so long that you briefly wonder how it even fits inside you.

“This what you wanted, baby?” He grunts over the squeaks of the tiny dorm bed. “Wanna be crushed under me? Helpless and trapped. You can’t get me off even if you tried.”

You only nod, ankles locked around his waist while your fingers tangle in his hair and tug. His thrusts get harder, fully squishing you into the thin mattress as your plushies fall to the ground. You usually cared about that, but Ari takes over your entire mind with his body, his warmth, and his words. Whimpers escape your throat between the mindless kisses and suckles you plant on his skin.

“One of these days, I’m gonna crush you.” He scoffs, his lips ghosting your ear. “But you don’t fucking care, huh? You love this shit.” He sits up, your arms falling to your sides as he shoves a poor stuffie under your ass, propping you up.

He pulls your panties to the side, meanly slapping his tip on your button. “Look at us. Look how much smaller you are than me. Remember when this little cunt could barely take a few fingers? I had you crying with just two.” He spits where you meet, the dollop of saliva lands on your clit before he smears it down your slit. His fat tip traces between your sloppy folds and gently prods at your entrance. “Now you could take me balls deep—no more just the tip excuses.”

He talks about it like he hates it when it was really one of the hottest things you’ve ever done. He barely controlled himself when you braced yourself on his chest, moaning with his fingers in your mouth as you weakly bounced on his dick. Only the bulbous tip wetly popping in and out because that’s all that you could take, even when he spent so long working you open.

He loved to just play with you, trace your pretty pussy, make you cry from all his teasing, kiss you all over and watch your juices leak down your ass. He could spend hours between your legs—and he has.

“I-Inside! Please, daddy!”

“Daddy can’t fuck you now, cub, you’ve still got studying to do.” He jerks his cock, your shared juices making the skin slick and smooth, “You wanna watch me come? Want another load on your little pussy?” His hair falls over his forehead as he groans, dragging his thumb over his leaky slit.

You can tell he’s close from his strained voice and the short hitch in his breath, it was one of your favourite sounds in the world. “Please, daddy, want you to come on me. Wa-Wanna feel it.”

His fistpumps up and down his length while he traces the head through your clothed folds, eventually sliding under your panties to keep his cock against you. “These are cute,” he snaps the pink band on your hips, the ditsy polka dot design stretched around his thickness, “it’s a shame they’re already a damn mess.”

His musky smell envelopes you like a spell, and before you know it, he’s bringing you impossibly closer to another high.

Your mouth waters at the sight of his drippy tip as it peeks from the waistband of your underwear. He’s so big, too big, the wet fabric clings to his skin with every slow rock. His girth is painted an angry red that matches his flushed chest. His skin is sprinkled with faint scratches and bite marks, a light sheen covers his taut muscles under his dark body hair.

The sharp contrast is a little embarrassing but in the best way possible. This mountain of a man, burly and toned in all the right places, doing this filthy act in your tiny dorm room littered with pastels and soft things. He’s in your panties, your messy cotton panties and prying your lips apart to spit into your mouth.

You almost forgot about the plushie under your ass, undoubtedly stained with your arousal.

He falls forward, one hand locks around the headboard and the other grips your chin. Those same fingers that were around his dick slide deep into your wide-opened mouth and rub his saliva along your tongue. “Yeah, you like how we taste? Who am I kidding, you love sucking my balls after I fuck you, you’d choke yourself on them if given the chance, dirty girl.”

Your breath deepens and the tightness in your stomach builds, every cell in your body erupting into flames. It’s more intense than your first and you can’t stop the tears springing from your eyes. You choke out his name and weakly push at his lower abs.

“No, no, you’re gonna come for me again.” His thrusts turn unrelentless and he filthily grinds along your sensitive cunt, bullying your puffy clit and nuzzling his heavy sack against your hole. “You’re gonna cream your panties like a good girl. Like my best girl, yeah? That’s it, squirt all over daddy’s cock.”

He watches it all—the twitches that burst into full-blown shivers, your eyes roll back while your pretty face contorts in pleasure, and he’s never seen anything more perfect. He stores it in his memory, filing it away with the feeling of your orgasm spurting all over his length, marking him with your essence in the most obscene way. You cry out when he doesn’t stop. He’d feel bad if he didn’t know you loved when he grew more hungry for his own relief.

Oversensitive and ruined beyond salvation, you want to give up, lie there, and take everything he has to offer but you refuse. Heat creeps up your chest to your cheeks at the lewd sound of your messy centres, and you reach down to press him close, stroking his girth over your panties as he fucks your folds.

His body shudders, a quiet whimper flutters from his bitten lips, “f-fuck, you’re gonna make me cum—don’t stop, baby.” His balls tense and his hips jerk wildly, shoving you a few inches up the bed until your head brushes the headboard. He groans loudly and it’s probably audible through the thin dorm walls, but you don’t care. You grip him tighter as his thick seed shoots out from his fat tip and warmly coats your tummy.

As he comes down from his high, you can’t resist gently tracing his pulsating cock, barely brushing the head with your thumb.

Ari curses and pushes away your hand, “fucking minx.” He carefully pulls out from your panties, cautious about his tenderness and sits up with a long breath, cheeks flushed a cherry red. His blue eyes widen, “Well, shit. Sorry ‘bout that, cub.”

You look down and see his cum all over your stomach. There’s a lot, more than you’ve ever seen, it would definitely spill from the corners of your lips if he were in your mouth. But the amount isn’t what concerns you, it’s where it is.

“My sweater!” You pout at the poor cropped knit garment marked with your boyfriend, “I loved this sweater…”

“I’ll buy you another one. And some new panties.” He promises and drops down to kiss you, not caring about his cum that now covered his stomach too, “but since it’s already ruined, might as well keep going. Unless you wanna be a boring nerd and continue studying?”

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: sometimes I think about the absolute filth I write and post on the internet for forever. then I get embarrassed, and you know what I do? I get even sluttier and share more filth. and what you do ?? you ENCOURAGE ME !! that's why we're all besties. love you. also pls send thots about this ari !!

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! stay tuned for more big boy!Ari bc I love him.

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

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

#fic recs r the best recs!

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lovedlocket · 3 years ago

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➧ 𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐨𝐲: 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐟𝐮𝐧

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | beefy frat!rugby player!Ari Levinson x nerd!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | established relationship, size difference: 6’8!Ari. SMUT - minors DNI, rimming (f), spanking, dirty talk, daddy kink, dumbification, hint of dacryphilia, size kink, wet and messy.

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | You’ll always be his number one fan.

𝗪/𝗖 | 741

𝗔/𝗡 | hi besties, here’s a drabble from this poll, i didn’t list it but wrote it anyway shh. There’s no masterlist for this au, everything is under #thick frat boy ari and drabbles are linked on my polls drabble masterlist (linked below).

˗ˏˋ𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Shudders rock through your body and your sweaty skin sticks to the cold metal as you gasp for air. A sharp slap echoes through the room, rattling off the walls of lockers, and the stark view of the entrance reminds you of just how much trouble you could be in if you were caught.

“You gonna come for me, baby?” Wet, sloppy kisses pepper across your ass, leaving heat in its wake, “Gonna come with daddy’s tongue in your ass?”

You whine, “d-don’t say it like that—” You’re cut off by a yelp when his teeth pierce into your cheeks hard, right where his palm landed a mean spank.

“You don’t get to act all innocent now, not when you showed up in this.” He fists the tiny cheerleader skirt around your hips, the white fabric rolled up so he could feast. Your panties are another story and lying half-torn on the tiled floor with three letters hand-stitched on the back.

He could fuck you against the wall, hoist you up in his arms and bounce you on his cock like a little toy, but his name was on your ass—he had to get his mouth on you.

He showered before sneaking you into the locker room and he’ll have to shower again before you leave, but he doesn’t care. He can’t fucking care when his girl was the loudest in the crowd and holding up the cutest sign: ‘THE BULL/NUMBER 3 TACKLED MY HEART’ and the cherry on top was the beautiful bouquet of roses you brought down the field after they won.

No one has ever bought him flowers before. He often wondered how the hell you were so adorable and perfect, and how he even got the chance to be with you. Luck. He was so fucking lucky.

Saliva is smeared all over his lips, your essence evident in his thick beard, and Ari is seconds away from coming but he forces himself to hold back. Under his towel, he squeezes the fat base of his cock, “use daddy’s mouth, fuck yourself on my tongue. Or is that too dirty for you?” He spanks you again and soothes the burning flesh with his rough hand.

“No…”

Another slap, “then fucking do it.”

With a quiet cry, you rock back against his face, your hands searching for something to hold onto but it’s futile. That is until you reach behind and fist his hair. You yank him close, pathetic uh-uh-uhs escape your throat with every thrust of his tongue that meets your grinds. His muffled groans send shivers up your spine, you can hear how messy it is back there.

The tightening in your stomach intensifies when he traces your rim, slobbery kisses and suckles creep to your folds and creamy hole. He can’t resist tasting your cunt and grabs your hips, forcing you to arch your back, but then he gets a better idea.

“Rub your clit.”

“But I l-like when you do it.” You murmur, craning your neck to look down at him, only the toes of your sneakers on the floor. “My fingers don’t feel as good, daddy.”

“For someone so smart, you’re a fucking dummy sometimes.” He spits on your puckered hole then dips forward with his flat tongue, groaning lowly when you push back against him. “You want me to be sweet with your button, baby? Or do you want me to mean? Bully it, slap it, make it hurt ‘cause it’s so puffy.”

“Pl-Please be nice…” You sniffle, eyes rolling back when his thumb penetrates your tight wet rosebud. His other hand trails up your sticky thighs, teasing your slit. “I have an essay to do, can’t be hurtin’, daddy.”

“No? But don’t you love it when I’m mean?” He gently spreads your slick to your clit, rubbing slowly and sweetly, “Don’t you love when your button is so sensitive that I can’t even kiss it without you crying? You’re so pretty when you cry.”

With every passing second, you sink deeper into that floaty pool of pleasure. He was to blame, he was always to blame. His raspy voice, his thumb pumping in and out of your ass, and his delicate touch on your nub.

“I luh when you kiss it, daddy.”

“That’s not what I asked, little cub.” He chuckles softly, nibbling and kissing your flesh, “it’s okay, you get as dumb as you want, daddy’ll take care of you.”

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: mhmhmh big boys mmmh

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! check in tomorrow for a drabble about fuckboys!ari & curtis x reader !!

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

#fic recs r the best recs!

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lovedlocket · 3 years ago

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⸺ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄

𝟰𝟬𝘀!𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗩𝗘 𝗥𝗢𝗚𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝘅 𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗜𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗔!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — thanks to the super soldier serum, steve gets to appreciate your body in a way he never had before.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — 18+ ONLY; MDNI. porn without plot. smut: penetrative sex, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, creampie, copious amounts of cum bc i’m disgusting, pussy drunk steve.

꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒❜ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 & 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑! ♡

PUFFS OF AIR TICKLED your ear as sharp exhales left your lover’s body.

You too felt as if the oxygen had been drawn outside of your tiny little room in your shared Brooklyn apartment. You were lightheaded as Steve vigorously thrusted in and out of your cunt, the newfound heaviness from him and the heat radiating from his body still an unfamiliar furor to you. His hands were significantly bigger and meatier, able to engulf both of your wrists in one and pin them above your head. His chest was broader and fuller, the wall of muscle fiercely protecting the thumping heart that lay beneath it. His legs were longer and robust, never faltering despite the immense pleasure he felt while he was inside of you. And those arms. The arms that held you every night were large and burly. Nonetheless, they were feelings you welcomed with

He was still your Steve.

You knew he was when he removed his dewy face from the crook of your neck and stared right through your soul with those crystalline eyes. He gazed at you like a man seeing the sun for the first time. And perhaps he was. With his newfangled heightened senses, Steve could now view your beauty without interference. You resembled Aphrodite reincarnated as you lay underneath him, features twisted into an expression of pure ecstasy. Your skin glowed in the candle light exquisitely, the tiny beads of sweat resembling tiny crystals shimmering against you. You were something straight out of a renaissance painting. Only no one else would see you like this, needy and wanton. Just him.

Like a shark sniffing out blood in the ocean, all rational parts of his brain shut down as his nose picked up the barest waft of your arousal. His jaw clenched as his pupils dilated. Steve’s clear-water ocean blues now donned a deeper shade, the kind of blue that made you fear what lurked below the undiscovered waters.

“Fuck,” Steve groaned, his eyes involuntarily rolling to the back of his skull as your velvety walls squeezed his member when the tip of it hit a particular spot within you. “Fuck, sweetheart, I can smell you.”

A part of you felt embarrassed for a brief moment, the overly self-conscious part of you snapping you out of your trance. But then you looked up and were met with the sight of the love of your life plowing into you anomalistically, looking the most feral you had ever seen the golden boy look through the entirety of you knowing him. His gilded locks were a mess, pieces sticking to his sweat covered forehead. His head was slightly bowed, shoulders hunched as he slowly began to lose control.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” Steve whispered. “I didn’t think you could even feel any better—”

Releasing your hands from his vice grip, he grabbed hold of your hips for purchase. You could feel your delicate skin bruising under the pads of his fingers. Your Steve was not fully cognizant of his strength quite yet, you knew he could never leave a single mark on your body unless you begged for it. Yet, you cared not. His ferociousness was unleashing something within you. You liked watching him lose control in his new body of his that defied limitations. You were experiencing all of these newfound sensations right alongside him.

Your body jerked violently against the bed from the force behind each impel. With a sharp gasp followed by a string of pornographic, staccato cries, you outstretched your arms to pull him to you. Your vermillion varnished nails sunk into the meat of his back as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“Look at me, Stevie,” You begged, swollen lips brushing against his. “Please.”

As if he was under your spell, his eyes snapped open to meet yours. A small whimper escaped his lips, his eyes falling shut for just a split second before he forced them open again, unable to look away from you for the life of him.

“I can see you,” He breathed in awe, eyed widening. “Holy shit, I can really see you.” His gaze trailed your body before finding its way back up to your face. “You’re so fucking beautiful, sweetheart. The prettiest thing I have ever seen. Look how well you take me.”

It was your turn to whimper, his honeyed praises and the precision of his thrusts a deadly combination. Steve was right there with you. His nerves felt like they were on fire in the best way possible. Every vein on his cock was hypersensitive, highly receptive to every drag against your walls. He crashed his lips against yours as he lost control, shooting his load inside of you. Your own reverie hit you like a bus the second the first rope of cum painted your cavern. You mewled into his mouth, embracing him tightly as you felt his large body tremble. His moans turned into deep, guttural growls as he fucked his spent into you. Steve’s body fell forward weakly, his muscles turning into jelly as your pussy twitched around him.

With another growl and wave of trembles, he came once more. He sloppily continued to pump himself in and out of you, creating a mess where you were adjoined.

"Stevie,” You murmured, pressing kisses against his shoulders, chest, and neck as he came down from his high.

He went completely lax against you, resting his head on your chest as he wrapped his arms around you. With an ear flushed against your bosom, he listened to the sound of your heart with a clarity he never thought was possible. It was his new favorite song. Once its rampant pounding reached a ritardando, he lifted his head. His own heart swelled as he admired you in your afterglow. You belonged in the Sistine Chapel to be rightfully worshipped. Or perhaps in a Greek mythology book.

And yet, here you remained. With him.

Your eyes met his, and the two of you giggled in shock and disbelief. You nuzzled your nose against his before kissing him sweetly.

“This…This isn’t throwing you off?” Steve asked innocently.

You could not believe he had the sheer audacity to even ask you that after what had just occurred, but he wouldn’t be Steve if he didn’t. That was all the confirmation you needed.

“You’ll always be my Stevie.”

#fic recs r the best recs!

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lovedlocket · 3 years ago

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🍓° 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Mafia!Ari Levinson x lovesick!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | fluff, sweet soft!reader, she’s a little oblivious. size difference: 6’8!Ari, he’s a total beefy hunk. neighbours au, a little tumble, stripper!reader, brief mentions of mafia business, undeniable daddy energy.

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | It was a little ridiculous how in love you were… With a single glance, he could make you melt until you’re a pile strawberry ice cream, tied with a pretty ribbon, and sitting on his doorstep.

𝗪/𝗖 | 2.45K

𝗔/𝗡 | just a little something I wrote inspired by Melting by Kali Uchis (also where the title is from). this is my first mafia fic but there isn’t much detail since this is a real itty bitty au. as always, all mistakes are my own. [all posts/asks]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

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

Time seems to slow when he jogs by, clad in shorts and a loose tank top with sweat seeping through the grey. His tan skin is covered in a light sheen, making the dozens of tattoos appear darker. From your seat on the porch, they still look like black blobs and lines stretching from his broad shoulders to his hands.

You’ve never seen them up close, but you have a few ideas of what they might be—a whole page in your diary to be exact.

Your eyes fall to his muscled legs, firm and thick thighs strain his shorts and just the beginnings of dark ink poke from underneath the fabric. You barely notice the ice cream melting down the cone to your hands, too deep in a daze when tingles blossom from your chest to your toes. A dreamy sigh flows from your lips as the wind flutters through his long brown hair, brushing along his bearded cheeks.

He turns to you and flashes a bright smile before turning the corner and disappearing down the street. That single glance makes your heart pound ten times faster, and all of your thoughts tangle into one ball of ribbons, varying in colours, prints and lace, but so evidently you.

If you could, you’d gift him that mess just so he could know how much he affected you without even trying.

"Oh no!" You quickly wipe your hands from the melting strawberry ice cream but it's useless, the pink stains your white dress and drips down to the ribbon around your ankle.

It’s almost too symbolic—the pretty pink bleeds all over your ivory clothes, ruining your life just like the fluttering trapped in your rib cage.

Honestly, it would’ve been easier to hate him, but he was so damn big that you didn’t have any space left in your heart to hate him.

To say you're in love would be an understatement. In every fantasy and daydream, he's the main focus, your co-star, your lover, your saviour draped in silk button-ups and silver rings. Oh, he's everything you've ever wanted! As if you manifested him when you were a young child and wrote about the perfect boy to sweep you off your feet and make your life a living fairytale—everything you scribbled in glittery pen has come true before your very eyes.

You don’t even mind that he and his biker friends rev their engines at three in the morning, but your roommate doesn’t agree, she’s never agreed.

The front door slams shut and you stiffen, hurriedly flipping through a random page in a magazine and desperately trying to act like you were not staring at his house next door.

"Did you do it?"

"Do what?" You ask, voice already on edge. Vibrant red hair comes into your peripherals, as well as a pair of angry green eyes.

Natasha groans, setting down her bag on the kitchen counter. "You chickened out again? I need my sleep before I lose my mind. I can’t get any if he and his dumbass friends treat this street like a fucking race track!”

“They aren’t even that loud—and I bought you earplugs.”

“I am not touching those things until those assholes learn how to be decent human beings!” She rolls up her sleeves and grabs your arm, yanking you from the barstool.

"Wait! What are you doing!"

Her heels stomp on the hardwood floor, nearly shaking the picture frames on the walls, “I messed up five drinks today, do you know how bad that looks when they’re my recipes?” She huffs, "he's out there right now mowing his lawn and you're gonna talk to him."

You grab onto the nearest thing which happened to be the couch and clutched it for dear life. “No—you do it!”

"He doesn’t listen to me!" She digs her fingers into your sides making you yelp and feebly swat her away, but you just screwed up big time. “Just try, baby, please! For me!”

That’s the last thing you hear as you stumble out the front door, tripping over the damn welcome mat and tumbling down the stairs. It’s only a few steps, but it stings when your back thumps onto the stone walkway, your poor elbows cushioning your fall.

You barely catch the engine cutting and rushed footsteps before he appears.

He stands over you with sweat brimming at his hairline, a deeply concerned expression etched onto his face, "awh shit, are you okay?"

As always, the air goes thin and you’re under that dumb lovesick spell again. The sun glows around his head like a halo, melting you to the bone, and leaving a mess on the stone in the same shades as your love—strawberry ice-cream pink.

It’s terrible that you don’t know how deluded your tender heart is.

"You're bleeding," he crouches low, gently examining your elbow, "did your roommate push you down the stairs?”

"No! No, I-I fell.” Obviously! “But I'm okay." You utter, avoiding the peeping redhead through the curtains. Your gaze lands on his long fingers wrapped around your arm. He’s warm, warmer than you thought. Heat radiates off his body and envelops you like an old friend, familiar and calm.

"Are you?" He inquires unconvinced, "here, let me clean you up." He leaves no room for protests as he helps you up and leads you to his porch.

After you sit on the couch, he disappears inside the house before emerging with a large white case. He sits next to you and opens the kit on the table.

"That's a lot of stuff." You note, staring at the packed first aid kit. There are various rolls of gauze, different ointments, and bandages, far more things than your tiny plastic box under the sink.

Judging by his shiny sports car, and his collection of perfectly tailored suits and watches, Ari lived a very different life than you and you’d do anything to know about it. Your naive heart aches for him so badly it almost hurts.

“It’s better to be safe than sorry. Can I touch you, sweetheart?”

You watch him tend to your injury with slow and careful movements, his dark brows knitted in concentration. You’ve never been this close to him, the sudden rush of blood almost makes you lightheaded, but his scent brings you back down. The woody cologne floods your nose, followed by a dash of vanilla with underlinings of musky spice.

“What happened to your other dress?” He glances up, eyes shaded under his thick lashes.

“Oh… It got dirty.”

He hums, “what a shame.” He delicately presses down the edges of the bandage. “That’s one of my favourites. It always makes my day to see you wearing it.”

You swallow down a whimper and clench your thighs, seconds away from dropping to your weak knees. Embarrassment fills your chest, tinged with guilt, “I’m sorry, sir.” The words slip out before you could think.

He cracks a small smile, shaking his head, “it’s okay, just be more careful next time, yeah? Can’t have you ruining the little purple one too, that’s my second favourite.”

Dull thumps hammer inside your head, muffling his raspy voice. You nod silently, digging your sock-clad feet into the concrete.

You take the chance to memorize his tattoos, from the intricate rose by his wrist following the thorn stems up his arm where they entwined with a heavily shaded skull. Thin script is scattered along his skin, you can’t make out the exact words but they’re in swooping cursive, clinging to his flesh like wet chiffon.

His arms tighten as he cleans up, the muscles shifting under his paper-thin t-shirt that left nothing to the imagination. Every unconscious flex clouds your head, tunnelling your vision until he’s all you can see. A small whine sounds from your throat and his eyes flicker to yours, blue as can be.

“I don’t see you leave very often.” You were either inside or sitting on the front porch with a treat and a magazine, or in the backyard tending to that small garden. “Do you work?”

“I… I did, then I got fired.” The wound was still a little fresh. “But it wasn’t my fault, I swear!”

Ari perks up in interest, although he knows plenty about you, this was strikingly new. Aside from your basic profile, he knew about your past as well, including where you grew up, where your parents lived, and how long you’ve been in this city.

It was only right to know about the two girls living next to his late grandmother’s house. Curtis insisted since Ari wouldn’t let him stay in the old two-storey home, but instead the house down the street.

He came here to be alone and mourn, but that was hard to do with a cute neighbour always staring at him. Yet he stopped caring after you left a small bouquet of hand-picked flowers on his doorstep and an adorable ‘welcome to the neighbourhood!’ note.

He forgot how good it felt to be sought after, rather than feared and honoured like a living legend. You gave him that sliver of normalcy with your longing loved-up looks and quick dashes inside when he pulled into the driveway. To you, sweet-spirited you, he was an ordinary guy, not someone with a history coloured in hues of red and dripping all over his shoes, smearing the black ink of his future; an eternity tied to his family’s glory that’s now his.

“This customer was being so mean and I know I should’ve stayed professional but I was havin’ such a bad day already.” Your bottom lip trembles, flashes of that terrible day flickering through your head, “first I slept through my alarm, then I missed the bus, and my make-up broke in my bag a-and everything was all ruined.”

He reaches out, rubbing your knee soothingly. Poor girl, if it was up to him, you’d never be mistreated. “Where did you work?”

“Venom Vixens.” You sniffle, hoping he isn’t the judgemental type, you’ve known too many people who would humiliate you for your chosen career. “I, uh, I wasn’t one of the girls on stage since I was still new but I liked it there. My coworkers were nice, I got free drinks, and…”

“And?”

“I felt,” you look down at your hands, they were so much smaller than his, “I felt pretty. People go there to look and flirt, and I didn’t mind being on the receiving end of it.”

Ari wouldn’t mind giving you all of that instead.

He licks his lips, imagining you in a tiny lace set, the sheer fabric clinging to your figure while you swayed around the dimly lit club. A piece of art in the sea of ogling and drooling patrons, blooming beautifully under the flattery.

“You liked the attention.”

You giggle, “Yeah, a lot. Sure, some customers were gross and would say nasty things, but others were nice, real nice—they’d tip a lot and compliment me. Most of them were just lonely, they wanted someone to talk to or someone to spoil.”

You don’t regret accepting their fawning or expensive gifts, hell, most of your jewelry was from your loyal clients. Sparkly things paired with sweet words were a one-way ticket to your good books.

“How about your boss?” Ari asks, “how did he treat you?”

Venom Vixens wasn’t only a haven for the lonely or where perverts got their fill, but of course, you wouldn’t know that. You’d have a heart attack if you knew of the shady people who walked in and out of those doors, you’ve probably served a few of them, flashed that bright smile and earned yourself a big tip—unknowingly pocketing the filthy, blood-stained money.

“Mr. Hansen was very friendly, but everything went through him. If we wanted to change a routine, we had to perform it for him first and get his approval. He said it was protocol.” Ari snorts but you don’t catch it, all too distracted with twisting the ring on his middle finger. “He was nice when you were nice to him.”

“So he must’ve always been kind to you. You’re the loveliest girl I’ve ever met.”

You preen under his praise and nod happily, questioning why you were so nervous around him in the first place.

Ari was a flirt—and you loved being flirted with.

“Mr. Hansen called me his favourite before he fired me. That was over two weeks ago, and Nat said I could take my time but,” you sigh, “I feel like a bother.”

He wonders if your best friend would still hate him if she knew he was the reason that her cafe was still standing. Without his ruling over the South district, there would be chaos, and that little joint would’ve been ransacked long ago.

Did he also call for extra protection because you frequented the establishment? Proudly so.

“Are you still looking for a job?” He takes your distant hum as a yes, “Do you want to work for me?”

Your head snaps up, your sparkling eyes wide in surprise.

“I’m opening a new club in a few days and I’ve got a spot left for a performer.” He didn’t, but he had no problem giving someone the boot to make room for you.

Your mouth opens and closes several times, and the thought of Ari owning a club flies straight over your head. You’ve watched him more than your favourite movie but you still didn’t know a damn thing about him, except that he smokes, liked to work out and alternated between a white mustang and a sleek black motorcycle.

Oh, and sometimes he changes in front of his bedroom window.

“You’ll be my boss?”

Say the word, and he’ll be much more than that.

He smirks, gripping your jaw and turning you from side to side, blue eyes flickering over your features, “Sure will. I have a feeling this pretty face will be the main attraction every night.”

Your heart swells when his fingers dig into your cheeks. “I-I would, but Nat won’t like that. She kind of hates you… and your friends.” He adds pressure and your lips pucker, “you’re all s-ho loud wit ya’ bikes ‘n engines.”

Ari bites his tongue, it was either the motorcycles or the blood-curdling screams of the poor soul in the basement. He made a mental note to speed up the process of that soundproof room, he couldn’t have you losing sleep over his business.

“She doesn’t have to know.” He replies, releasing your face in favour of loosely grasping your throat. Your pulse thumps under his fingers, hard and fast, speeding up as he leans closer, “c’mon, don’t you want to be a star? Get all that attention again and make me proud?”

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i just love sweet!readers, they're my faves 🥹 and pairing them with big hunky (secretly soft) men is heaven !! i can't get enough !!!!

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! I love you all very much 😚🫶

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

#fic recs r the best recs!

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