Here’s To The Future, For The Dreams Of Youth @sunflowersstan - Tumblr Blog

🦩➩ 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐨 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝟒/𝟓)

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Trailer Park!Ari Levinson x inexperienced!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | fluff, bartender!Ari, dilf!Ari, reader x OCs (mentioned), cameos, innocent!reader, cigarette use, alcohol, 6’8” Ari, beefy hunk!Ari, soft!Ari, dom!Ari, flirting, nicknames, size difference, manhandling, possessive behaviour, SMUT - minors DNI, daddy kink, size kink, innocence/ruined kink, ice play, unprotected sex (messy p*ssyjob, just the tip), oral (f), p*ssy slapping, dirty talk, choking, dacryphilia, degradation, dumbification, breeding kink, beard burn, spitting, squirting, creampie.

♫ ·ﾟ𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐨 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝗪/𝗖 | 11.11K

𝗔/𝗡 | well we have returned to FK, one of my most favourite fics. As much as i love it, i can’t wait to finish this fic bc i’ve had the ending written for weeks. I hope you all enjoy this part !! All mistakes are my own. ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

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

˗ˏˋ 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐨 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Do you mind?”

“I’m not doing anything.”

You scoff, flipping over and shielding your phone with your body. You start typing a cheeky, yet innocent reply when the device is snatched from your grip. “Nat!”

“What are you—holy fuck.” If she didn’t have a face mask on, you’d see her bright red blush. “You little minx, sending nudes right in front of me?”

You gasp, “No! Give it back—”

“—Not until you tell me why he’s sending you shirtless pictures.” She stands from her bed, narrowed green eyes locked on your screen as she zooms in. “Oh my god, I can see his pubes! I guess the carpet does match the drapes. He’s got lots of hair everywhere. Must be well-groomed, huh?”

You bury your face in a fluffy pillow, “He just finished working out! And he’s a tease so, of course, he’d send a picture!”

Your phone dings and Natasha’s jaw drops, “His hand is down his shorts! Fucking slut!”

She zips out of the bedroom with you hot on her tail, and you almost slip on a magazine before catching yourself on the counter. You shout her name and jump over a cat toy, getting close enough to hear a text message being sent off.

“Oh! He’s calling—” She answers without another beat, dropping your phone on the couch.

Flustered, you dive for it and bring it to your ear, just in time to hear your boyfriend’s voice,“You want me to come over?”

“I-I didn’t say that.”

“You just texted me: come over and fuck me.”

You facepalm and sink into Natasha’s black velvet couch. “Ugh, that was Nat being annoying.”

“I think you mean a fantastic wing woman.” The redhead calls out.

You shush her, “Uhm, how was your workout?”

“Pretty good, I’m thinking of taking up boxing again, and training down at the gym. I really enjoyed it when I did it.”

A wispy breath slips from your throat, visions of a sweaty, grunting Ari with flushed red skin and teeth bared, his gloved fists pounding into a punching bag—or a person as the lights beam down on him in the ring, and the crowd cheers as he reigns victorious.

You gulp. “You did boxing?”

“Yeah, Curtis and I met during a session. He was the cocky, self-entitled prick and I was the newbie.” Ari exhales lowly, you can almost see him smoking a cigarette out on the porch. “He wanted to show off, and I was the prime target. But, he ended up getting his ass beat.”

You snicker, imagining the two of them duking it out like they had something to prove. Now they’ve been best friends for almost a year, and work at the same establishment while still bickering like it was a hobby. Knowing them, it probably was.

What’s he saying? Natasha mouths, sitting next to you with a wine glass.

“—fucking you next to your friend isn’t something I thought you’d be into but, I’m up for trying anything once.”

She chokes on her wine, spluttering with wide eyes.

A bubbly sensation builds in your tummy, either from embarrassment or something much more shameful, you don’t even want to think of it.

“T-That’s good…” You trail off, “I mean, n-not good. Ah, but not bad! I don’t mean to make you feel bad either—for trying new things!”

Ari chuckles and tuts his tongue. “Calm down, sweet cheeks, before you get stressed. Daddy ain’t there to help you relax.”

Natasha gasps with a toothy grin, nudging you insistently, “once a daddy’s girl, always a daddy’s girl. Have you told him about your tattoo idea? The one you want on your ass?”

“What was that?”

“Nothing!” You cover the mic, turning away from your best friend. “Nat’s cat is trying to eat my dinner, so I have to go.”

“Alright, sugar. Call me if you need me, okay?”

“Only if you call me too, I’m just down the road.”

Ari hums, it’s such a familiar response you can almost feel his chest rumbling beneath your palms. “I will. You be good tonight, eat all your food and don’t make a mess… You’re always making a dumb mess when we have sleepovers.” He teases.

You stutter out an incoherent reply, memories of your last sleepover playing on the walls of your skull. Lots of sweat, lots of other fluids, and your core so overworked from only his hands that you could barely sit. He had every right to be smug about it.

“Sweet dreams.” You eventually settle on, thighs clenched tightly.

“I sure will, gonna dream about my girl anyway, and the whole city knows she’s the fuckin’ sweetest.”

After the call ends, your phone lands on the carpet floor with a thump, right before you kick your feet and giggle.

Seven, Natasha’s black cat climbs onto the couch and up the arm before settling between the both of your heads. His tail gently brushes your cheek with each sway.

“Seven hearts are broken by yours truly in the time span of four months. That’s an accomplishment that needs to be commemorated!”

And by commemorating, Natasha meant adopting a cat from the local shelter and transforming into a redhead, trailer park version of Catwoman. With reflexes and flexibility that rivals the actual antihero, and mirroring her dangerous, clever and mysterious maneater attitude.

Natasha scratches Seven’s head, the animal purring under her touch. “I’m so happy for you, baby. You’re glowing.”

“Thanks, Nat. Wouldn’t be here without you.”

“Eh, I didn’t want to say it myself, but you’re right.” She sips the wine, “I did this, I put that smile on your face, that man on your mind, those thick fingers inside you—”

“Ugh!”

She laughs, “I’m kidding. I may have brought you to The Den, but you put in some effort too. Flashing that pretty smile, being your adorably cute self, if he didn’t fall for you that night, someone else would’ve.”

“Like you?” You snort.

“Oh, you know it, suga’ plum.” She plants a messy, wine-lipped kiss on your cheek before jumping up. “I’ve got to take this shit off my face, I can barely speak.”

While she’s off in the bathroom, you grab another small tub of sorbet. Seven weaves between your bare legs while you tear it open and grab a spoon. The berry flavours burst on your tongue, the cold temperature instantly kills that fiery heat ignited by Ari and his stupid deep voice.

“How do I look?” Natasha strikes a pose, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“Like you belong on the cover of Vogue, and are an ambassador for some fancy, skincare brand while flaunting straight off the runway looks.”

“Fancy with my ex-boyfriend’s t-shirt and my ex-girlfriend’s shorts?”

“Supa’ fancy.” You giggle, collapsing on her couch once more.

She sweeps up her cat for some cuddles and plops next to you, her skin glowing. “You know what else is supa’ fancy? Getting free drinks and food at The Den for the rest of your life.”

“I don’t want him to think I’m with him to be a sugar baby.”

“I know—and I know he knows that too.” Natasha says, “You two picked each other. And that’s the cutest thing in the world. You think he’s the one?”

You purse your lips, “I don’t think he isn’t the one.” You say slowly, “And, even if he wasn’t, why would it matter? My past relationships should prove I’m not exactly good at finding… long-term lovers.”

“But you’ve never felt this way with your past disasters.” Natasha quirks a brow, “Those people took your love because you offered it and they left. Ari isn’t only taking, he’s giving without asking—yours for his.”

Natasha was right. The partners of your past often made you feel like a stage in their life, the shiny jewel they stumbled upon before they found something better and brighter. Those pessimistic voices told you they were only with you for convenience, not because they actively wanted to. Although that may not be true for some, it felt that way for most.

“You shouldn’t worry about those idiots now—you should focus on what’s in front of you, who’s in front of you.” The redhead lifts your chin with her finger, her green eyes warm and kind, “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

You clutch a pillow to your chest, “what is?”

“To love, and to be loved. It’s nice, right?”

Could it really be love this early? Perhaps you loved him as a person, as a friend, but as a partner?

Well, you certainly didn’t feel like you couldn’t love him later on.

But were you in love with him right now? Was this too soon, and was he going to drift away, or drive away like the rest of your lovers?

You hoped not, you wished not.

Every passing day felt like plucking petals from a daisy: he loves me, he loves me not—he’ll stay with me, he’ll leave me.

Deep down you know Ari wasn’t like that. He’s proved so countless times and to dwell on pessimism will only be your doom.

You and Ari haven’t used those words—verbally anyway. You’ve said it a million times in your head and heart when he’s doing the most normal things like brushing his teeth in your tiny bathroom, or walking outside shirtless to collect your laundry from the line before the storm rolls in.

He never needed to be asked for those sorts of things, the favours you would ask of a friend or neighbour, he just does them. It was like he already knew your inner to-do list and was eager to help you out, so selfless and sweet, you couldn’t wrap your mind around it.

Often you forgot that kindness was a natural thing, and the smallest act could make someone’s entire day. Ari did that every day, he made it good when they were bad, and he made them better when they were fantastic. He was magic, there was no doubt about it.

The both of you have shown love in different ways: cooking breakfast for each other, buying something for the sake of ‘I thought you’d like this.’ You haven’t had sex yet, but he’s still very affectionate in other ways. Always touching you, kissing you, and he gives the best massages, you always find yourself melting into his bed whenever he digs his thick fingers into your shoulders, tracing down your back to work out every knot.

You especially loved when he would kiss you like he had all the time in the world.

A soft smile crawls onto your lips, “Yeah, really nice.”

“You deserve it. To feel that way and have it returned. You have the biggest heart and so much love to give. I’m glad you found a fella big enough to handle it all. But if he hurts you, I’m gonna key his Chevy.”

Your fingers trace to your neck, trailing over the thin silver chain before landing on the thin celluloid charm.

“Got this way back when my folks and I went to a music festival. I saw it and just had to have it.” He thumbs the small guitar pick dangling from the silver hoop. “I spent all my allowance on it, and looking back, it was far too overpriced for what I got.”

His blue eyes are softer than cotton candy and flavoured like fresh blueberry. With slow blinks, they flicker between your face and the chain around your neck.

“It’s my good luck charm, I’d either wear it or keep it in my pocket. I’ve never played a show without it.”

You pout, reaching back to unclasp the necklace.

Ari grabs your hands, holding them between his. “Nope, don’t do that or else you aren’t going over to Natasha’s tonight. And, if you keep pouting, you aren’t leaving this trailer until next week.” His voice lowers, a glint appearing in his gaze.

You quickly fix your face and blink up at him. Although his threats were tempting, especially spending an entire week in his trailer, you didn’t want to ditch Natasha last minute.

“It used to have a treble clef charm, but I lost it, which is fine since that wasn’t the lucky part.” He taps the cream Fender guitar pick, then pulls you closer by the chain, dipping down to kiss your nose. “I’m gonna get you your own someday. You can pick the chain and the charm.”

“But, I like this one.”

He quirks a brow, “It isn’t too old?”

“It’s perfect. Reminds me of a little you, just a passionate kid who has very bad spending habits.”

Ari chuckles, “Oh, then you don’t wanna hear what I spent my Christmas and 16th birthday money on. Let’s just say my mother was disappointed, and my father was the complete opposite.” Another kiss lands on your nose, and this time, he also bops your noses together. Ari opens his mouth before shutting it, a thoughtful expression ghosts his features.

“Keep her safe.”

“Promise.”

“Wasn’t talkin’ to you.” Ari stares down at the charm, narrowing his gaze, “Keep my girl safe, or else I’m tossing you in the city dump.”

Ari also owned a few garages around the country, and that’s where most of his income came from. It explained his knowledge of cars and other vehicles, and how he suddenly became Flamingo Park’s mechanic after he helped someone with a quick repair. All the older ladies loved it, and they told you as much.

Hell, they even joined you on a few instances to sip lemonade and watch your boyfriend work up a sweat. He’d wave with a pearly white smile, knowing exactly how to melt them—and you—like an ice cube.

Although, you didn’t know whether to be heartbroken or turned on when he told you he used to have a motorcycle.

“I sold it because it was just collecting dust. Who knows, maybe I’ll buy another someday and take you for a ride.”

You knew if he did fulfill that suggestion, you’d only fall deeper into the pool of his blue eyes.

He was just delicious—the handsome, big and burly fella working on someone’s car in the burning sunshine, jeans hanging low and a trucker hat holding back his long-brown hair with a popsicle stick hanging out of his mouth.

While you giggled and fawned over him (and his friends on the occasion they’d drop by and help) with Natasha, Wanda and the older ladies, Ari was strikingly different when it came to you being the eye candy. You were comfortable in your relationship and proud of your boyfriend for being so stupidly pretty, but where you had a smidge of jealousy, Ari had a Chevy cargo bed size of it.

He hated it, but he also loved showing you off, it was a double-edged sword. He didn’t want to tuck you away, be overly possessive or make you even a pinch insecure, but he also wanted to slam his ring-clad knuckles into anyone who stared at you a second too long.

And right now, as he spots the new ink on your lower back, it felt like that sword was slicing straight through his chest.

Oh, he was one lucky son of a bitch.

Ari inhales deeply, getting ahold of himself. “That’s a cute tattoo.” He licks his lips, leaning over the counter to leer at your backside, “look at you, taking big girl steps.”

You throw him a sweet smile over your shoulder, “it’s temporary. Nat and I gave each other tramp stamps during our sleepover. Want a closer look?”

Excitement gleams in Ari’s eyes when he slips behind the colourful counter, one hand lands on your hip, and the other pushes in the middle of your back. Even though the store is empty, you were still a little wary—who knows when Mr. Freezy would return from his lunch break?

Well, it wouldn’t be the first time he’s seen Ari since he’s dropped by a few times for lunch or to pick you up. Introducing your very friendly boss to your intimidating boyfriend was as awkward as it could get, and you eventually faked a phone call to get out of the tense situation. It wasn’t the most brilliant idea considering you left Ari and Mr. Freezy alone. When you got back, they were still standing in front of each other with matching glares.

After that, you tried to keep their run-ins as short as possible.

As August creeps around the corner, this is the longest you’ve kept a job, mostly because Ari has a secret sweet tooth. He devours any treat you bring home, from chocolate bars to bags of taffy or gummies. Just yesterday, he passed out on your bed—absolutely dwarfing the mattress with his 6’7 muscled frame—with the wrappers of caramel squares and an empty bag of gummy bears on his bare stomach.

He had way too much fun pretending to be asleep while you cleaned the mess and his face. After you tenderly wiped away the stickiness from his lips and beard, he pulled you on top of him, nearly squeezing the life out of you for a ‘couple’s nap.’

His theory?

Couples who nap together, stay together.

And honestly, you couldn’t compete with that logic, especially when he was the best big-spoon.

Ari’s fingers dip under the band of your jeans and he briefly ponders praising your boss’ choice of uniform. The initials on your ass made you look delectable. “Finally letting me behind the counter—”

“Just this once!” You cut him off, forcibly placing his hand over your clothing. “If Mr. Freezy comes back, you’re out.”

Ari scoffs, easily swatting away your hand to slip back under your shorts, but this time, from the hem by your inner thigh. “Creepy Freezy is probably jerking off to your employee of the month photo.”

You cringe, goosebumps combing over your skin. “I hate that you and Natasha call him that.”

“Mhm, you can thank my brain for that one. What about Jittery Jensen and Fumbling Frank? Have they been giving you trouble—or worse, flirting with you?”

“Maybe.” You giggle when he tickles your side, “Maybe they saw this tattoo before you, maybe they touched it before you.” A loud smack echoes through the shop when Ari’s palm collides with your ass. You jump forward, the power blowing through the denim of your shorts, “Ari!”

He rubs the sore flesh, finishing it off with a few final taps. “Hush, don’t want to scare any customers away. God knows Creepy Freezy needs the cash if his porn directing gig ends.” He chuckles over your embarrassed groan, “You know, I'm a little upset about my lack of invitation to that sleepover.” He drops his knees, thumbs pressing into your flesh as he examines the dark swirls, hearts and stars.

The glass doors are shut and the mall isn’t too busy, but you don’t want to take any chances and unfortunately, your boyfriend has different ideas. He inches down the back of your shorts, exposing the band of your cotton panties and more of your temporarily-inked skin.

“S-Sorry, girls only.”

“You’ll make up for my lonely night later.” He pinches your ass that hangs out of your disgustingly-hot uniform shorts, “I think you’ve just become the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.” He leans closer, daring fingers trailing up your thigh, just ghosting the denim seam snug between your folds.

He lightly strokes the stitching. Thrill and shame mould together making you shiver, “thought I was that already.”

Ari hums, “you’re right, you basically occupy the top four spots now. One for our first date, two for each pretty uniform you’ve worn, and a special one for this little thing.” He wonders if you’d get a real tattoo there someday. If you did, you’d never leave his bed, and you’d probably get pregnant before marriage—oops.

“What about the rest, uh, of the spots?”

He can smell you wet and ready for him. “Spot?” Ari inquires as he rubs over your slit, pressing the hem against your nub, “Oh, those spots, thought you were talking about another much tastier spot.” He adds pressure, taking pride in the tremble of your knees, “They’re all reserved for you, sugar. Just waiting for you to leave your dirtbag boss and work at some other place.”

The bell above the door rings, “—No, you’ll have it done by tonight, and if you don’t, you can count on being booted from this industry when you’re just starting out.” Mr. Freezy hisses into his cellphone, balancing a few CDs in his hands, “No one wants a dumbass editing their tapes—” He pauses with a few hushed words.

You spin around, Ari’s face now inches away from the zipper of your shorts.

“Yeah, that’s what I fuckin’ thought!” Mr. Freezy booms, “get that shit done.”

You hadn’t witnessed him so angry before, this was a different side of your generous, pattern-wearing boss.

Mr. Freezy turns to you with tense shoulders, offering an even tenser smile, “Hey, sweetheart, I’m closing the shop early. Ran into some trouble with my other business.”

Below you, Ari scowls and grasps your hips tighter.

You ignored him, staring at the stack of tapes in your boss’ arms, you couldn’t see the writing, but it was in black sharpie. “Oh, do you want me to do anything before I go?”

“No, no, it’s fine.” He fixes his glasses, still red-cheeked from his shouting, “Just take your weekly treat and head home.”

That’s when Ari pops up from behind the counter, smug as hell while wrapping you tight under his arm, “Hear that, sugar? You're mine for the rest of the day.”

Your boss’s mouth drops open, his eyes narrowing behind his long shaggy hair. You think he’ll say something or acknowledge the inappropriate nature of whatever was happening, but he doesn’t. He simply turns around and goes to the back office, grumbling.

While you collect your things and snatch a bag of jellybeans, your boss comes out of the office with his shirt half unbuttoned, his hair even messier than before.

Mr. Freezy flips the open sign to closed, “Have a good day, sweetheart. Don’t get sick with that, okay? Can’t have my best employee missing when I need her the most.” He winks.

You clutch the bag to your chest. “I hope everything is okay, Mr. Freezy—” Ari pulls you to the doors, forcing you to keep up with his mile-long strides. “—oh uh, goodbye, Mr. Freezy!” You call out as the door shuts.

Cozy under Ari’s arm, you both walk towards one of the mall’s exits. You ramble about the new candy in your hand, excited about the fruity flavours while Ari tries to listen. Unbeknownst to you, Ari was far too busy glaring at your boss as he brazenly stared at your ass.

He takes that chance to slip his hand into your back pocket, groping your flesh. You stutter, but don’t question him, and tear open the plastic bag.

When you’re outside, Ari directs you to his red truck. You feed him a few more jelly beans before he opens the door, and helps you inside.

“I don’t like how he was lookin’ at you.”

“That’s how he always looks at me.”

Ari freezes, hand braced on the truck as he nods slowly. “Always, huh?” He glowers, shutting the door.

Wrong answer.

You don’t have much time to think about how you could’ve changed your answer because the next thing you know, his Chevy is on the road with the windows down. The humid summer air blows along your skin as you munch on the jellybeans, periodically feeding Ari a few as he drives.

He puts his sunglasses over his eyes, and runs a hand through his hair, “Don’t you think it’s time to get a new job, sugar? Getting a little stale in that store.”

“I’ve considered it?”

You’ve thought about ditching the sugary candy for something new. Maybe they’ll hire you down at the Storm Surf Shop. You’ve always wanted to try out the waves, and the co-owner Johnny Storm always reminds you of his “one-on-one Storm special lessons by yours truly.” Working on the beach wouldn’t be that bad, and Johnny has given you plenty of free bathing suits (after you tried them on, he wanted to make sure they fit properly) so it would be a nice way to give back for his kindness.

“Great!” Ari snaps his fingers, then grips your thigh, his other hand still on the wheel. “I’ll take you to quit, then we’ll find you someplace else. Preferably far away from that mall. How about Dandy Andy’s?” He asks, “The owner is a close friend, he’ll hire you, no interview needed.”

“You mean Daddy Andy’s?”

“Uh, no? That diner by the park is called Dandy Andy’s Diner, also known as DADs?”

You blink. “I’ve been calling it Daddy Andy’s Diner forever!”

Ari stops at a stop sign, lowering his glasses to stare at you. “You’ve been calling another man daddy, just ‘cause?”

“No! Because I thought that’s what the name was, it wasn’t intentional!”

The brunet hums and turns back to the road, his jaw clenches under his beard. “Yeah. I believe that. Just like I believe that Creepy Freezy makes pornos with girls who look like you.”

You slump in the leather seat, grabbing his hand. “Ugh, no! Don’t say that.”

“It’s probably true, sugar.” He’s straightforward. “And I don’t want you close to that guy if he’s gonna leer at you all day.”

You play with his fingers, twisting the ring up and down his knuckles. “Not all day… He’s usually in the back office during opening hours.”

Ari hums suspiciously, “yeah, I wonder what he’s doing back there. Bein’ a nasty perv.”

“Hey! You love the candy I bring home, and it’s all from him.”

“I can love the candy and despise the man who sells it.” Your boyfriend turns to you as the truck stops at a red light, “It’s the same way I could appreciate your folks for raising such a lovely girl, and absolutely loathe that marriage before babies rule.” His voice lowers, eyes eating you up, “Just thinking about you knocked up makes me hot.” His grip tightens on the wheel, his knuckles turning white.

You squirm in your seat, the denim seam is wet with your arousal. He did this with just a few light little pets.

“So fuckin’ pretty—carrying my baby.” His hand slips to your exposed thigh, “Can’t wait for you to make me a real daddy, sugar. Gonna give you the whole fuckin’ world.”

Your eyes flutter shut when his fingers return to your cunt, rubbing slowly but hard. The moment would’ve been perfect without the blaring horn behind you.

“It just turned green, jackass!” Ari shouts, flipping them off before both his hands grab the wheel, speeding through the light. “Sorry, sugar, I know you don’t like it when I yell.”

You get a hold of yourself, taking slow, deep breaths. “It’s okay, uh, I think I’m really tired. I-It’s also hot, really hot.” Or that’s just because you’re turned on. If that impatient person weren’t there, you would’ve let Ari finger you right in the passenger seat, shamelessly in broad daylight. And if he pulled over to take things one step further, you wouldn’t say no.

“Well, we’re almost home and you can relax in the AC all you want. Awh shit, wait until Natasha hears about Creepy Freezy’s side job troubles—if that doesn’t scream failing porn director career, I don’t know what does.”

A loud bang echoes off the thin walls of your trailer, nearly rattling the shelves. You glance over and Ari’s face twists in pain as he rubs the top of his head.

“Ya fuckin’ trailer is smaller than my truck.”

It wasn’t, but it sure felt like that. It also wasn’t his first time in your home, but it was the first and only instance he hit his head on your entryway.

“Oh my, are you okay?” You ask, tossing your jean shorts into the laundry. The fluffy carpet comforts your sore feet as you stand there in your panties and work shirt. “I have ice!”

“I’ll be alright,” He runs a hand through his hair, gently feeling the throbbing area. “Gotta be more careful, that fuckin’ hurt.”

“But they’re heart-shaped and super cute, don’t you wanna see them?” With a pout, you drag him to your bed.

It’s only a few steps past your mini kitchen and cluttered desk before reaching the white and pink frilly sheets and mismatched pillows. You push him by his shoulders not once but twice, until he sits on the mattress, the springs squeaking under his weight.

“If you wanna play nurse, you could’ve just said so, sugar.”

“Oh, shush.” You weakly bat away his wandering hands when you bend over, sifting through your tiny fridge until you spot the red tray.

After putting the ice cubes in a ziplock bag and wrapping it in an adorable blue and green rag, you spin back around. You approach him and try to ignore Ari biting his lip, leering at you fervently.

In the blink of an eye, you’re perched atop his denim lap and a little dazed, “There we go, love feeling you on me.” Ari beams.

“It’s gonna be cold but I’ll be very gentle.” You warn, delicately holding the ice to his head.

“I’m a big boy. Hit me, nurse sugar.” He quips.

Cautiously observing his reactions, you spot nothing but a minuscule furrow between his brows. Poor baby, you can't help but think and lean forward to softly kiss his face in hopes of making him feel even a smudge better. Your lips pepper across his forehead, paying special attention to the wrinkle, and trace down his nose to his cheeks, his tickly beard and finally, his plump pink lips.

His hands rub up and down your thighs, hiking up your shirt and dragging along your skin. He squeezes your flesh, “mhm, could get used to this. The prettiest gal in the world nursing me back to health while sitting in my lap. I love Fridays.”

You giggle and nuzzle his cheek. “I could be your personal nurse, dress in a little uniform and bring you fresh soup in bed.”

“Don’t tempt me to go buy you a costume because I’ll do it—and you will get pregnant wearing it.”

Your grip on the ice tightens when he dips forward for the tray. He keeps you stabilized with a thick arm around your back, then sits down and pops one ice heart in his mouth, swirling it around with his tongue and crunching it.

Inches away, you closely watch his jaw clench under his beard, and his tongue lick his lips to capture any rogue droplets.

It was just an ice cube but why did it feel so erotic?

He pops another in his mouth and scoots back, leaning against the wall. “Want one too? It’ll help cool you down.”

His thighs flex beneath you, the rough denim rubbing your tender skin, “Yes, please.”

Ari smiles, “So polite. Open up for daddy, sugar.”

With a touch softer than clouds, he cups your cheek to tilt your head. Your mouths meet in a fashion of hunger and longing, equally sweet as the rest of your kisses, but far more passionate. The ice cube slides on your tongue, the cold spreading down your throat as it melts.

He pulls away and squeezes your hips, his pinkie slipping under the band of your panties. “Good?”

“Sho’ good.” You manage around the cube, it was slightly bigger than you thought. Ari’s eyes sparkle in the fairy lights that blink around your trailer, illuminating the floral and irregular wallpaper. A strand of hair falls over his face which you brush away then set aside the ice pack.

“Want to try something new? It’ll help cool us both down, and it’ll feel even better than this.” His thumb taps your bottom lip, the simple action of the tip dipping in is enough for you to know what he’s insinuating.

You barely nod. Your quiet breaths merge with his, muffled by the humming of the air conditioner.

Ari gently flips over, bracing himself above you with one arm as his bicep bulges. He leans down with a small smirk and noses your cheek, “can practically smell you. Are you wet, honey?” He asks, his fingers hooking under the band of your underwear to yank them off.

Your shirt flutters onto your stomach, hiked up and exposing your naked folds. The cool air makes your toes curl and your thighs clench around his waist, keeping him close.

“Look at that, ruined your pretty panties.” Ari tsks playfully, he brings it to his face, smelling the fabric before sucking the gusset into his mouth, “I’ll clean them for you, baby, but not now. I’ve gotta take care of my best girl.”

You choke down a whine, grasping his shoulders while your heart thumps in your head. You stare up at the ceiling after he tugs off your shirt, his following suit.

You’re so excited and nervous that you can’t bear to watch when he pops another ice cube into his mouth. Your senses are decreased to four—only hearing his movements, the dull creak of the floor under his feet, and smelling his spicy woody cologne with a dash of tobacco. Perhaps most hypnotic is the lingering taste of his kiss combined with feeling him—his warmth and the coolness of his lips along your bare skin.

Ari drags the ice cube down your body, noting each little twitch from the cool temperature. The water pools in the dips and curves of your figure and leaves a trail that follows with his tongue. You fist the bedsheets when he brings it to your cunt, dragging it around your folds but not touching your slit. He watches it melt and drip down your pussy.

He wasn’t lame enough to be jealous of an ice cube, but it sure felt like he was.

“So beautiful.” He sounds as if he’s speaking to himself, and drops to his knees between your legs. He licks his lips and leans forward, slowly sweeping the little drops from your petals, making you feel every ridge of his tongue. He groans against you, your sweetness soaking into his taste buds, satisfying a hunger that’s been eating him alive.

His tongue is cold and you jerk, pulling his hair, and loudly crushing the ice cube between your teeth.

Ari pulls back, “You okay, baby? Want me to keep going?”

“Please yes—I mean, yes please.” You fumble, blinking down at him with bright eyes. “Please don’t stop.”

“Okay, daddy’s got you, sugar. Just sit back and relax, yeah?” He brings the cube to his mouth, letting it sit between his warm lips before craning down to your cunt.

The next few moments are better than your dirtiest fantasies.

He’s sweet and ravenous, dragging the cube over your slit and pressing it on your button. You cover your mouth to stifle your moans when he suckles your folds, pushing the ice against you with his tongue. Your body is delightfully confused, so hypersensitive and numb. His breath is hot on your cold folds, the sharp contrast makes your arousal drip down and soak the sheets.

His thumbs spread you open, “Wish you could see yourself, kitten. The prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen.” He murmurs once the cube has melted, the water dripping down his beard along with your juices. He captures you in his mouth, groaning against your puffy folds then pulls back to lick from your puckered hole to your clit. “Can’t believe I waited this long to taste you—daddy’s so sorry, sugar.”

His beard is rough and brutal, but in a way that only makes you want more. He digs in like a beast, thrusting his tongue into your tight hole as his nose rubs your button, still tender from the ice. He drinks down anything you have to offer, growling against you and hooking your thighs over his shoulders, almost lifting your ass from the bed.

“The sweetest treat I’ve ever had.” He leans away with a wet pop and presses one hand on your tummy. He feels every sink and rise of your body, and your heavy breaths telling him exactly what you verbally couldn’t. Oh, you were loving this and he should have done this way sooner.

“You like when daddy eats your pussy, baby? Are you gonna let me have a taste whenever I want?” He spits, his saliva lands on your clit and slowly drips down to your fuckhole.

The pleasure courses through your veins and you cover your face—this time, he lets you, any other chance, he’ll pin your arms above your head because you shouldn’t hide. It felt like an insult. Your beauty was something that should never be concealed, not by yourself or someone else, even him. Jealousy be damned, for now anyway.

But he’ll let it slide, after all, you were making a stupid mess on your pretty pink sheets.

“One day, you’re gonna ride my face.” He promises before placing the ice cube in his mouth, moving to kiss your inner thighs, giving each a fair amount of attention before lightly nosing your folds. “And you’re gonna use my mouth, grind your cunt all over my tongue until you cover me in your cream like a dumb little baby.”

He blows on your cunt, the cool air pulls shivers from you like a harmony from a guitar. He plays you like one too, as if he’s known you and your body for years. It’s a performance just for the two of you, his mastery brings you to Saturn and back. Soaring on that hot and heavy stream of euphoria, twitching and tensing as the ice rubs along your warm folds. Your back arches when he dives forward with an opened mouth to suckle your button.

“D-Daddy!” You cry out, tugging at his hair, “You’re so—feel so good, ah!”

He moves the ice with his tongue, pressing it along your tingling clit and slowly moving it down to your weepy hole, nudging it at your tightness. He hoists you higher, hooking his arms under your thighs to dig deeper, muffled groans sending vibrations through you.

“I’m gonna—fuck, please don’t stop.” You beg and repeat that six-letter magic word—please, please, please.

But he does. Ari pulls back, still kneeling on the ground between your spread legs.

“When you cum, I just wanna taste you.” Then he places another cube in his mouth, chewing both of them quickly while rubbing your nub with his thumb. He takes great delight in your muffled whines as you cover your mouth, anxiously glancing at your opened window. His face lights up, “Oh, they’re gonna know you’re my girl. Now grind on my tongue, no ice, no fingers, just use daddy’s mouth.”

His tongue is freezing against your warm core and loud moans pour from you. You obey, rocking your hips, convulsing under a thin layer of sweat, and crying out his name like a prayer.

“That’s it,” He pulls back to spit on you, heated blue eyes flickering up, “Dumb little slut, ain’t it better when daddy does all the thinkin’ for you?” He mocks, “Daddy wants your fuckin’ cream. And you’re gonna give it to me. Let me taste your pretty pussy all fuckin’ day.”

You can’t reply, all too lost in the sensation. Your hips rise off the bed and it takes you a moment to realize that Ari has lifted your bottom half off the bed completely. He supports your lower body with his built arms, digging nose deep in your hot—and cold—centre. His tongue pierces thickly into your pulsating walls, and your squirt pours into his eager mouth and down his chin, soaking the bed sheets. Your choked whines are pathetic but he loves it. He loves it even more when you go limp in his hold.

Ari continues to clean you up gently, his eyes locked on you as he drags his lower face between your puffy folds, rubbing you raw with his facial hair to gather every bit of your orgasm.

When he leans back and you’re lowered to the bed, his mouth is coated in a sheen and there are traces of your arousal in his beard. He licks his lips, his big hand groping his cock over his jeans, the zipper nearly bursting at the seams. “Have you ever squirted before me?” He asks, stripping off the rest of his clothes.

Your gaze follows down his torso to his hips, the thick coarse hair trailing from his chest to his belly button and his pelvis. A quiet mewl sounds from your sealed lips when his cock springs free, thick and heavy against his abs with an angry red leaking tip.

“I asked you a question, kitty cat.”

You shake your head and Ari grins madly, scooping you into his arms and pushing you higher on the bed. “You did so good, sugar, I’m so proud of you.” He kisses you and you can taste yourself. “Now, I want you to show me your little holes, I think you’re gonna like what we’ll do next even more.” His touch traces down your slit, circling and prodding at your hole. “Tight cunt can barely take two of my fingers. How are you gonna take my whole cock, hm?”

“I’ll do it, daddy.” You gulp, still coming down from your high. Small hiccups escape your throat when he slaps your pussy in quick succession, the obscene sound of your slick and his spit bouncing against the walls. “Please, I want you so bad—”

“Yeah, daddy’s here.” Ari’s slow and steady drawl seeps into your head. His warmth combines with yours and steam fogs the windows. He gently cradles your jaw, tilting your head as his lips ghost your cheek, “I’m right here, baby, and I love you.”

The world stops, then spins ten times faster and you know if you were standing, you would’ve toppled over from the dizziness. Your breath halts as if an ice heart was lodged in your throat, the cold spreading down your body before heat bites at its tail, flowing through your limbs and deep within your chest.

A million thoughts run through your mind but none of them make sense, but your feelings are strikingly clear. They overlap each other and almost confuse you, from terrifying glee to mindless adoration. Your heart grows to the size of the moon, it feels like it could explode straight out of your chest.

Ari sits up between your legs, nude as the day he was born with an overwhelming amount of devotion on his face. “Daddy loves you so much, sugar.” His hands pry your thighs apart, making room for him.

Perhaps your high made you oversensitive in more ways than one because you feel like crying.

“I-I love—” Your voice breaks off into a mewl, and your eyes roll back into your head.

He shushes you softly, pressing forward until his full sack is flush against your soppy folds, the underside of his length covered in your slick. “Hush, sugar. I know, I know, just let daddy make you feel good.” His prickly kisses trail down your jaw, “Is that okay, baby? Can daddy make you feel good again and show you how much I love you?”

This intimacy is everything you’ve ever wanted. His weight and warmth cover you like a blanket, protecting you from any danger. You feel secure and loved—so loved that you firmly believe that if anything were perfect, it was this very moment.

Your yes is so faint he almost mistakes it for the wind.

Ari’s heart swells so big he can feel it in his throat and make his voice crack. “Thank you for trusting me, sweet girl. Never gonna make you regret it, I promise.”

He almost reconsiders his next actions, but with your taste still on his tongue and your puffy little cunt against his girth, he doesn’t dare to rid the both of you of any pleasure. With slow and even thrusts, he grinds his length along your folds. Hiking one of your knees around his waist and the other over his shoulder, he pins you to the mattress, lifting his body so you can both see where you’re connected.

You cup his jaw, rubbing your thumbs over his cheekbones. You want to say those three words back, but your voice is lost in the air, dancing above your heads while your bed starts rocking into the wall.

“Knew you’d like this too, givin’ daddy a pussyjob. Been wanting to just feel you like this.” He grunts lowly. “Feel this little cunt on me, so fuckin’ creamy. Are you that hungry for my cock, sugar?”

Your eyes flicker from his flushed face down his body, over his tense muscles and sweaty skin to his trimmed pubic hair and hard cock. Your slick sticks to him, strings of your excitement clinging to his dick and smearing down his balls. He’s so much bigger than you remember, both in length and girth, it’s intimidating yet revelling to think about him fitting inside you.

“You like how we look together? Like my fat cock rubbing your sweet little pussy, fuck, can’t forget your cute button too.” He slaps the head on your clit, rubbing it before dragging up and down your slit to collect your juices.

His tip barely breaches your hole and you collapse back onto the pillows, heaving his name.

He slides back up your folds, filthy spitting on your nub to watch it dribble down his veiny girth. “Aw, feels so good you can’t even sit up. It’s okay, dumb baby, daddy will help you keep watchin.’” He grabs the back of your head, craning your neck as your dazed eyes fall onto your centres.

You cry loudly, feeling that familiar tightness in your belly with every hard thrust of his hips. Your pussy blooms for him like a flower, and with the constant pressure on your sore clit, you know you won’t last long, and judging from Ari’s guttural groans and curses, you know he won’t either.

“Look at your pretty cunt, openin’ up for me. Want me all in your guts, huh?” He huffs, “But I’m too big for you, I’ll split you in half and you’re just gonna be my little crybaby. Do you want that? Want me to tear your little cunt apart?”

“Please, daddy! P-Pretty, pretty please—fuck me.” You choke out, “just force it in—don’t care!”

Dropping your head back on the pillows, he wraps his hand around your throat, keeping you still as he speeds up. Precum drips onto your weepy core, mixing with your juices. “Hm, I don’t think so. You tease me all the time, it’s time for a taste of your own medicine. Better open wide.”

Your jaw drops slack and your tongue hangs out against your bottom lip. His spit splatters on your face and joins the stream of tears, then it lands on your tongue, sliding down your throat.

Your hips raise and his tip catches on your hole, sinking in less than an inch before he pulls away. A loud slap echoes through the room as a burning sensation spreads over the flesh of your ass.

“Do that again, and you aren’t gonna cum for a week.” He hissed through clenched teeth and swats your pussy, gripping your chin and digging his wet fingers into your cheeks. Your lips pucker open, all drooly and covered in spit. “Good girls don’t try to get their daddy to fuck ‘em when he already said no—got that? Or do you need me to say it in simpler terms since you’re gonna act dumb?”

Your hips almost lift again, it’s just a natural reaction to his filthy words and the fiery bliss fluttering through you. I’m sorry, daddy, is what you try to say but it comes out a babbled mess.

Your eyes roll back when he smears his saliva on your face. He swoops down, licking up your cheek. “You’re lucky I love you, or else I’d just fuck your mouth and leave you high and dry.” He growls over your slapping skin and the obscene sound of his cock sliding along your heat. He spits again, aiming for your other cheek.

His bulbous head tortures you, slipping down far enough to drag over your hole but never giving you what you wish for. Only grinding between your creamy petals, rubbing your humming clit. With every thrust, his heavy sack is flush against your cunt, making an even bigger mess as your slick drips down your ass to the sheets below, staining them in your desire.

Your toes curl and you try to push him away. “Daddy—I’m all d-dirty.”

“And I fuckin’ love it. I know you do too.” He wetly slap the fat tip of his cock on your nub, the lewd noises echoing off your trailer walls. “No need to be ashamed, fuck—I like ‘em filthy, almost as much as I know you like how much bigger I am than you.” He unabashedly moans into your ear, “I could destroy you, sugar, and I might just do it.”

“P-Please,” you don’t know what you’re pleading for but tears well in your eyes, streaming down your sweaty cheeks. “Please, daddy.”

“How can I deny that pretty face, especially when you cry for me.” He lowers onto you, successfully trapping you under him on the rocking mattress. His beefy pecs press against your bouncing tits, your sensitive nipples rubbed raw from his chest hair. “I love you, sweet baby, and I love the taste of you too.” His tongue drags up your face, your bitter tears fueling his drive to tear you apart—without actually tearing you apart.

“Can feel your pussy lips quivering, are you gonna squirt again and make a stupid mess? Get your daddy all fuckin’ messy, and mark me?” His breath puffs against your cheek as his arms slide under your back, keeping you firmly against him with every rough grind into your cunt. “Do it, want you to cum all over me, mark me with your cream. Fuck, don’t worry, I’m still gonna fill you up with all my love.”

You shatter beneath him, crying out loudly as your legs clamp above his ass. You see stars and squirt, convulsing roughly but he doesn’t let up. Ari’s arms nearly give out and crush you, his body quivering as he spits out curses and his hips thrust unevenly. He refrains from slamming into you—and messily grinds his dick on your pussy, slapping the runny head on your clit as your juices cover his pelvis, dripping to his balls and down his flexed thighs.

The aftershocks rock through your body, more numbing than the last, you barely have the chance to watch him.

He’s flushed red, the vibrant colour bleeding down his cheeks to his chest that puffs in and out. His head is thrown back, hair fluttering with the motion as his neck tenses, the tendons visible through his skin. He groans your name heavily when his orgasm builds in his body, making every muscle in his body tighten.

Your broken utterance of I love you is what pushes him over the edge.

His skin is soaked with you as he fists his thick length, jerking himself inches away from your core. You weep when the head slips between your petals, barely sinking into your hole when his seed spurts. Thick and white, the warmth fills you up almost immediately and pours out, down your ass to the wet pink sheets.

Ari lets out a breathless chuckle, “Can’t even take my load—it makes me wonder how I’m gonna fit in you.”

Working at DADs has been one of the most pleasant opportunities you’ve had.

Aside from the godly air conditioner, cable television, static-free radios, kind coworkers, and free dishes, the environment was lively yet not overbearing. With all the gleaming lights and shiny checkered floors, you adored every bit of the establishment and often lost yourself in the various vintage posters or photographs on the walls.

You also got plenty of tips, so much that your purple piggy bank was full after the first week.

Most customers were men since the diner was popular for sports nights and special deals for long weekends or holidays. Andy took his promotions very seriously and all that hard work paid off because business was always booming.

Especially on game nights, you were swamped with orders but also spoiled with tips and sometimes-sweet-sometimes-irritating pick-up lines.

The men sure loved seeing you flounce about in a soft blush pink dress with a tiny apron and a cute paper cap with a flower poking out from it. Ari placed it for good luck on your first day and hasn’t missed a day since. He tries his best to drop you off at work or meet you later during your shift, and he always brings a different flower to ‘make you even prettier.’

“I’ve got some time to spare. How about a white milkshake, and your lovely self in my truck for your break?”

You peer up at him, “You know Andy won’t like that.”

“He’s always been a buzzkill, c’mon, don’t you want my tip? Oh wait, you already got it, just the tip though—nothing else, unfortunately.”

You gasp, “Lower your voice, I’m working!”

Ari pretends he never heard you, instead finding interest in the menu. “Actually, I’ll take a double-double with large fries. Save the milkshake for later, dollface, I’m caught between strawberry and cookies and cream—unless if it’s your cream then I’ll take that.”

“Ari!”

“Excuse me, how do you know my name? Are you even writing down my order or do I need to speak to your manager?”

Your hand freezes, the pen stills in one half of the heart you were mindlessly doodling on the notepad, right next to Ari’s name in cursive.

“Shut up!” You quickly hide the page when he peeks over the counter, clutching it to your chest. “You’re a menace and I should kick you out.”

“Oo, I’d love to see you try to manhandle me.” He cocks his head, and that’s when you notice your heart-shaped sunglasses holding back hair.

You like to think he wore them on the drive to the diner.

“Don’t forget we’re going to The Den tonight. We’re doing a full set and I need you,” He leans forward, hooking his finger in the chain around your neck, “my little good luck charm, to be there.” One chaste kiss is pressed to your parted lips, then another on your cheek, “Gonna put on a special show just for you, sugar.”

It seems every time you see Ari, he becomes more beautiful. Clad in denim and flannels, walking around like a king with a crown of gold and a heart to match. But that effortless lure was nothing compared to witnessing him in his element.

The dim lights cast shadows over his chiselled features, the sweat kissing his hairline and down his neck and collarbones, disappearing down the hairy expanse of his chest.

In the past few hours at The Den, you’ve had countless drinks and nachos, happily perched at the bar, bobbing your head to the live music. You sat alone since Natasha had a date, but you didn’t feel nervous, and maybe you had the alcohol to thank as it buzzed through your system.

Ari even dedicated several songs to you, but ever since Carol laid eyes on you, she just had to keep fucking with Ari.

“This is for my girl—oops, I mean Ari’s girl. Soon-to-be my girl though, better love her while you have her, big guy.”

After the first few songs, he was sweating up a storm. Fully soaked through his flannel that was now on the back of your chair, and nearly through his white tank top. Even drenched, he was still art, with his skin smooth, shiny and defining his muscles, and with his chain dangling between his pecs as he rocked his hips to the song.

Once the short intermission rolled around, he set down his guitar and helped Carol down the stage. Then, he sauntered over. His shoulders sway as he graciously thanks the crowd, earning a couple of pats on the back and handshakes.

Feeling cheeky, you finish your fruity drink and hold out a marker when he comes close enough. “Can I have your autograph?”

Ari’s dark blue eyes trace over your figure, his hair a few shades darker from the sweat. “Only if I can choose where.”

He snatches the marker and drags your chair closer, grinning with dimples in his cheeks, his rough fingers trail from your jaw to your neck. He traces the silver chain before dipping under the cotton hem of your dress. “This is a pretty dress, sweetheart. Your boyfriend bought this for you?”

You gulp as his thigh slips between yours, pinning you against the barstool. “Y-Yes… Don’t you remember—”

“Shh, just be a good little fan for me, yeah?” He pulls down the front, exposing the top of your lace bra without shame. Right here in his workplace that’s packed like every other Saturday. He tuts, “it’s like you dressed up for me. I wonder what your boyfriend would think of you now… Getting marked by your favourite idol. Think he’d be disappointed?”

You can’t look away as he signs his name on the top of your breast, along with a lopsided heart.

He leans closer, his cologne mixed with something heady. “Have you ever hooked up with a rockstar, sugar—”

“Aye, beer can, what’s the hold-up!” Curtis spins a drumstick in one hand, sitting at the drums at the back of the stage.

The tension disappears with Ari’s heavy exhale. His hands land on your hips as he turns around, “You’re really bringing back that nickname?”

“After the show and the encore, you can continue whatever you’re doin’ outside my fuckin’ bar, beer can.”

Beer can?

As you contemplate the name, he takes you by surprise and kisses you hungrily, making your hands flail and slap onto his biceps. His tongue slides into your mouth, leading you into a quick and dirty session. Then, he pulls away with a string of saliva connecting your lips. “We’ll continue this later, sugar.”

You did, in fact, continue whatever that was later. But not in the way you expected.

When Ari had something to drink, he somehow got more handsy and brazen.

You squirm away, “Ah! You’re tickling me!”

“That’s the point.” His words are muffled as he buries his face deeper into your neck, sneaking a few mischievous bites as your ass grinds against his hard crotch—could you blame him? You walking over there all prettily while balancing a tray of beers, and smiling at him so sweet—he got rock hard instantly. “Now, get the hell outta here before I take you over my knee for being such a distraction.”

The Den has long since closed, the darkness taking over outside while you, Carol, Curtis and Ari lounged about, soaking in the silence and ‘free’ food and drinks—if Ari wins at darts, it’s free, but if I win, we’re all paying. Can’t have you jerks making me go bankrupt—was the wager as proposed by Curtis.

You retreat to your seat with Carol while Curtis and Ari resume their game of darts. The stakes were high for them, not for you since Ari vowed to never have you buy something from The Den while he worked there, to which Curtis replied with: we’ll see how long until I fire your ass.

His belt buckle gleams in the faint light as he throws another dart, landing just a few inches from the green circle. You didn’t know much about darts, but you knew that the closer to the red in the middle, the better.

“Let’s go, beer can!” Carol cheers.

Your face goes hot as her previous words echo through your brain, you of all people should know why he’s called that, she gestured between her legs, extremely thick like a beer can, yeah?

You didn’t verbally confirm it, but she could tell from your flustered face that it was spot on.

“So, are you all geared up for the end of September?”

“What?” You turn to her with a quirked brow.

Running a hand through her short hair, she points across the room. “Ari’s folks do this whole end-of-season shebang with all their old bandmates and friends—Curtis and I went for their spring celebration, and I never knew people in their sixties could move like that.” Carol blinks at her half-empty bottle, “It’s like they never aged, they’re still able to party and play like they’re young again. Ari usually goes away for a week or so, I think.”

You slowly shake your head, “um, no. He never told me.”

“Oh.” Carol freezes. “Oh! Aw shit.” She rubs her temples. “I knew I should’ve stopped after the body shots.”

September, although a good few weeks away, felt like it was just around the corner all of a sudden. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that Ari would invite you this time around, and you love him too much to say no.

Before you know it, you’ve wandered into the washroom. Your reflection only shows your abrupt nervousness and worry from your wide eyes and jittery frame.

It’s too soon. Isn’t it?

Is anything too soon?

Perhaps, but anything isn’t this, and this is your relationship with the man of your dreams. There are no rules or expectations for you to strive or follow. Just your own comfort zones and boundaries. Everyone moves at different paces, who is to say that you and Ari are going too fast?

You’ve spent most of your life living the days as they come, never really one for planning or anything of the sort. In contrast to others, your life seemed all over the place, but it worked for you. The temporary jobs, mismatched furniture and seasonal lovers are all a part of your natural desire for the carefree, comforting lifestyle.

You jump nearly a foot off of the ground when the washroom door bursts open and slams into the wall. The frame rattles, along with the picture frames on the walls.

Your wide, terrified eyes meet Ari’s and he winces, “sorry, forget my strength sometimes.”

“It’s okay.” You mutter. “Uh, you win the game?”

“Of course.” He snorts, “And I’d love to say I’m here for my victory kiss, but I’m also here to clean a certain stupid blonde’s mess!”

“I said I was sorry! You know I could never bite my tongue when super pretty gals are around.” Carol’s voice is heard faintly. “Tell my girl to forgive me!”

With a roll of his eyes, Ari shuts the door. He steps behind you, firm and relaxed. The mirror shows your size difference, he’s so big and intimidating, with his domineering height and frame, almost covering you completely from behind.

One of his arms curls around your front, pulling you into his chest. His body heat seeps through your clothes, the steady rise and fall of his chest falling in sync with yours. “Are you free at the end of September, sugar?”

Honestly, you didn’t know, but you knew even if you were, Ari would work something out with Andy. You choose to get straight to the point. “What if they don’t like me?”

Ari kisses the side of your head, “there is no ‘what if’ because they’re going to love you.” He promises, “Actually, they already told me if you don’t come, then I might as well not show up. They want to meet you more than they want to see me.”

“You already told them about me!”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He tugs you closer when you squirm, effectively trapping you in his embrace until your toes ghost the floor. “They should know their future daughter-in-law is coming for a visit, it’s only fair.”

You cover your face. “Please don’t tell me you called me that.”

“I just told them how I feel about you.” Ari spins you around to kiss your forehead, gently prying your hands from your face. He cranes his neck to meet your gaze, “And truthfully, if you don’t want to go, that’s fine. I won’t be upset or angry, it isn’t my place to force you to do things you don’t want to do. My parents would understand and even if they didn’t, I wouldn’t let them pressure you either.” His blue eyes could drown you, “We move at our own pace, and we get to decide if things are too soon. And just know my feelings won’t change if you don’t want to go. You’re my girl, but before that, you’re your own person. And what you say, think and feel always matters to me.”

You can feel the love in his voice and it seeps through your skin, embedding into your bones—his love becoming a part of you.

You slowly bring his hand to your face and kiss along his knuckles. “End of September? For just a week?”

“Yes, baby. Or if you want to leave early, we will.”

“Don’t think I will. If they’re anything like you, I’ll love them quickly.”

Ari smiles, “Yeah? You love me?”

You roll your eyes fondly. Ari would jump at any chance to hear those words from your lips.

“I love you, Ari.”

“And, I love you, sugar.”

“Okay…” You puff out a slow breath, your heart slowing to a steady pace, “Last week of September. With your parents, and friends. Okay…”

“Well don’t sound too excited.” He laughs when you pinch his arm, and easily returns with a sharp swat to your ass. “Sorry, sorry, sugar. Can you give me that beautiful smile?” He noisily kisses your cheek, nipping at the flesh until you grin. He swoons, fanning himself. “Oof! Carol was right about being around pretty gals—you’re about to make me propose.”

You burst into giggles, victim to the wide-winged butterflies in your tummy. He talks about marriage so often that if moving too fast truly mattered, you would’ve been worried from the start.

“There she is. Now, if you’re gonna meet my folks, you’ll need to know how to play darts. The Levinsons are competitive assholes.”

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: oh you are not ready for the next part (hint: uhm… they go all the way and then some). And perhaps, we meet the world famous levinson rockstars !! aside from the inspo from Lana Del Rey’s Every Man Gets His Wish, I wrote this listening to the youtube playlist (which is linked at the bottom of the fic masterlist) it’s so good. Also… hehe tmrw (the 9th) is my birthday !! 🥳

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! i have no clue when the next update will come.

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3

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