#mafia!ari levinson
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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.
𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑
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 ☼
I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
#ari levinson#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson fanfic#ari levinson fanfiction#ari levinson au#ari levinson x fem!reader#ari levinson x female reader#mafia ari levinson#mafia au#mafia!ari levinson#ari levinson x you#reader insert#melting au#ari levinson x lovesick!reader#lovesick!reader#sonny’s stories#chris evans#Chris evans fanfic#Chris evans fanfiction#Chris evans characters#chris evans x reader#ari levinson fluff#lovesick reader#tw mafia#ari levinson x Stripper!reader#sweet!reader#ari levinson one shot#red sea diving resort
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Ari's Payback
Mob!Ari Levinson x Reader
Warning: Mob!Ari, Wife!Reader, Ari being petty, a lot of cursing
Summary: As your husband, Ari did what he does best: annoy you.
A/N: Happens right after this event. Part of Venomous Vows series in collaboration with @biteofcherry
Ari cursed silently in his mind.
There was an intense debate going on about whether or not he should do this.
The brain cell of stupidity argued: Do it. Let’s give her hell.
The sane part of his brain said: Let’s just kill her instead.
Okay. Maybe he shouldn’t leave both his brain cells wandering in his mind after a few too many glasses of scotch.
Plus, killing her meant that he could only enjoy the look on your face once. While initiating the plan, on the other hand …
He reached for the box, and snatched the object inside with ease.
A part of him grew curious as to why his wife did not wire her stuff.
Then, at the back of his head, a slurred, drunken voice of his own reminded him that it was his home. It was your home. It was your shared home.
Ari watches as you rummage through the house, ask the maid (he forgets her name once again, Charlotte or Shari or Shar-something) to help you rummage through the house. A while later, the valet is commandeered. Then your chauffeur.
Together, the four of you search every inch of your bedroom, your bathroom, your walk-in wardrobe, and your second walk-in wardrobe with handbags.
He pulls out his phone to take a look at the time.
Ten minutes to eight pm.
He could imagine the guests murmuring, glass clicking, heels clattering, air thickening with his men huffing out cigarette smoke.
He could imagine the guests glancing at their wristwatches ��� having received a pat-down at the entrance and removed all electronic devices such as their phones like taking some friggin’ SATs – and getting all disturbed, wondering if they should bolt or would FBI come surrounding this goddamn place as this could very well be the largest mob family gathering along the east coast.
Yet, he muses, they should grow accustomed to your tardiness, as there hardly were times when you weren’t late for this annual gathering since your marriage.
He finds a box of cigars in one of the drawers of the coffee table and a box of matches to go with it. He lights the cigar and enjoys the rich spicy odor of it, feeling particularly like a club owner from the 1920s, watching in the dark as the mime continues in front of him.
Well, not a mime-mime, but a –
“It can’t be just gone.” You snap at no one in particular, though it is clear as day that you are not in a good mood, while the helps you’ve summoned keep their lips shut.
Ari allows a small whiff of cigar smoke drift from the corner of his lips.
Poor them. But it’s not like you are going to bite their heads off.
“Charlene, please check my jewelry box again. Marco, my coats. George, my handbags.” You grit your teeth tightly, “It’s a necklace with a ring of pearls and a fuckin’ big-ass pink diamond in the middle. It can’t be gone.”
And it is lying in the deepest darkest corner of his safe in the study. The pleasant bitter taste of the cigar filled his lungs, ghosting Ari’s face with a faint smirk. He takes time to pour himself a glass of scotch, knowing that this fiasco will last forever since he was the thief who wants payback for your last not-so-peaceful encounter when you decided to sabotage his online meeting with the loudest porn.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am. It’s not in the jewelry box.” Charlene exits your bedroom a couple of minutes later, apologizing even if it was not remotely her fault.
“Sorry, Ma’am.” Ari’s valet, Marco shakes his head and refuses to meet his eyes with yours after coming back to the living room.
“Sorry, Ma’am.” Your driver George echoes.
You stand in the middle of your living room, hands resting above your hips, full make-up and properly dressed, with a beautiful strapless on you, and on your neck – nothing, nada.
Ari savors his scotch with his eyes closed.
First of all, in his defense, you look beautiful in anything, even a rag. Despite his hatred towards you, he is not blind. And you certainly do not need one specific necklace to bring it out in you.
Second of all, that necklace was a gift from a man before your marriage. A man who is not Ari Levinson (nor your father, for that matter). A childhood friend, to be exact. Ari has always suspected you felt a thing towards that man. Luckily, that man was off to some adventure in a godforsaken jungle in the middle of nowhere.
Ari prays that the friend of yours dies there. He could send a team of armed mercs to annihilate his opponent, but he chose not to. Ari Levinson is not a complete monster, just fyi.
Last of all, it was so worth it, making you mad.
“Fucking stupid goddamn pearls I swear-” You ignore Ari being all suited up on the couch, heading to your bedroom to check under the bed again, cursing under your breath.
The soles of your heels click on the floor hard enough to poke a hole in it.
“Fuck fuck fuckity fuck FUCK!”
He hears you lash out your fury into the soft beddings. He hears your anger pent up with no one and nowhere to aim at. He hears you curse louder.
Ari puffs the silvery smoke into the air.
See? The brain cell of stupidity tells him. Totally worth it.
#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson x female reader#ari levinson x you#mafia!ari levinson#mob!ari levinson#ari levinson imagine#ari levinson fic#venomous vows#the red sea diving resort#ari levinson angst
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A promise that won't be upheld
part of Venomous Vows series in collaboration with @jamneuromain
mafia!Ari Levinson x female reader
summary: Your first impression of Ari isn't exactly a bad one, but it solidifies your decision to never have anything to do with him.
warnings: mafia!Ari Levinson; mob!Ari Levinson; soft dark!Ari Levinson;
Author's Note: This is sort of prelude to everything that happens. If you read the thread that started it all (and which is the core of what happens later), you will understand the title of this ficlet - why exactly this promise won't uphold 😏🤭
The sense of power doesn’t thrum through your veins as you cut across the lavish floors of the club, even though people part aside to let you through; neither it pulses as you take the spiral staircase to the VIP upper floors, where curious and hungry gazes glance your way, but no one dared to approach.
At least not yet. Your father’s name is enough to keep most in line, but there is always someone who would be either too dumb or too drunk to make a move on you. The fact you could get rid of him with the mere mention of your last name didn’t give you a sense of power, either.
It’s the moment when you stepped down the narrow corridor that changed from lacquered black into burnt wood panels, which finally gave way into a beautiful oasis.
Here, in the private garden sprawling above the city, you feel that rush.
It’s not just a VIP area. To be allowed here is to be the inner circle. The very few who your father trusted.
Or to be a monster equally influential as him.
Ari Levinson isn’t a close associate of your father. He doesn’t belong to the inner circle. He doesn’t belong to anyone, but the hell pit alone.
But he’s here tonight. Exchanging who knows what false politeness and cutthroat deals with your father.
You know he’s highly intelligent, brutally fast and decisive. Father wouldn’t sit down with anyone who didn’t deserve their position of power. But he’s not the kind of man you want to spend any minute with.
Especially not on your birthday.
“I’d ask if he’s a stripper, but I’m not yet drunk enough for playing a dumb bimbo,” your friend chuckles next to you.
She likes to play those games, especially with the dark and dangerous crowd - whom she proves to be idiots led by dicks. She’d almost cross a boundary, but make it so cute that the most ruthless of enforcers and mob soldiers were turning smitten and protective.
Figures she’d set her sights on Levinson. Danger always lures her. On top of that, his looks also grab full female attention.
“That one is better to be left alone.” Averting your gaze from him, you turn and walk over to the further side of the roof garden, where garlands of lights are hung above a table set for a small group of people.
Unlike your best friend, you’re not interested in poking the dragon.
Or to even look at him too long, in case the devil snatches your soul somehow.
You prefer your partners to be more controllable. Lawyers, who have the brains and enough cockiness to make it spicy, but won’t get an upper hand over you. Mob boys who are in the higher ranks, but didn’t display alpha male behavior. CEOs who are too busy with their own empires to be hungry for having power over you.
“He has to be a really big deal, if you’re saying that,” your friend muses, taking a seat beside you.
And he is.
Ari Levinson isn’t a man you’d want to find yourself near. Not only because of his reputation of being a ruthless and lethal leader. But because he’s not easy to control. He never would be.
He’s a man who grips the reins of any interaction right away, twisting and pulling and lashing with a crop until any mare submits to him fully. He’s like that in business, but you have no doubt he’d be the same in any relationship.
“Ladies.”
A voice smooth and rich as the last sips of thick, hot chocolate, resounds unexpectedly behind you. Startling you.
When you turn, the devil himself is standing right there. His expression is neutral, void of any mischief, or malice.
So damn controlled. To the tiniest muscle in his handsome face.
“Mr. Levinson.” You greet him politely, hiding your annoyance at the fact you can’t read anything off his face, or his body language.
His body - impressively broad and thick, while still holding a jungle’s predator’s grace to it - isn’t stiff in discomfort, nor is it alert for a threat. It isn’t fully relaxed either. Somehow he’s perfectly balanced and in tune with his surroundings.
Yeah, definitely a man to stay away from, if you want to maintain your goal of always being in control.
Even if a small part of you wants to stretch along that body and rub your softness everywhere where he is hard.
“Wanted to pay my respects and wish you a happy birthday,” Levinson inclines his head your way.
“Thank you.” It calms you, realizing it’s just a typical show of manners, which the mafia world puts such emphasis on while not batting an eye at killing. It’s quite comical.
“I must admit, I’m surprised.” He adds, his tone for the first time betraying some kind of emotion.
Amusement?
“A mafia princess’ birthday being so modest? No party for hundreds of people and social media pictures? You must be setting new standards.”
He doesn’t laugh, nor smirk, but you notice the way his blue eyes spark. It’s a short, fleeting thing, but it’s enough to grate on your nerves. It’s also enough to have your friend snort. Because of course she made nearly the same comment a few days ago, when you mentioned you just want a nice dinner and a few glasses of wine, not to party all night long.
Not only because you have enough noise and masses on a daily basis as you manage hotels and the party side of casinos - the legal front for the very illegal things your father runs.
But because, as he called you, a mafia princess is never just a person of the evening for genuine celebration.
You’re not naive or dumb to not know that those types of parties are a means to be shown around like a prized auction item to lure the highest bidders. Your father loves you, but you’re aware at some point he will arrange your marriage.
You want to spare yourself at least the whole circus of potential husbands, or their representatives, watching you and assessing your worth.
“I’m not a college student on a spring break, nor a spoiled teen on a sweet sixteen.” You roll your eyes, not voicing the real reasons for the small celebration.
Which was a tiny victory on your part, because your father couldn’t exactly show you off and wait for offers while it was only him, your friend and two cousins you were still waiting for.
“No, you’re not.” Levinson agrees, his voice dropping an octave lower.
His eyes stay on your face, but it somehow feels as if he just dragged his gaze down your body in the most inappropriate way. You feel a warm tingle awakening beneath your skin.
“I wish you all a lovely evening. Once again, happy birthday,” he rolls your name on his tongue and his lips curve in a teasing smile.
“May it be a memorable one.”
You watch him turn and leave, moving with the confidence of a predator who knows the jungle holds no secrets from him.
But he’s not reckless or stupidly cocky, you think. He’s simply (annoyingly) aware of his power. Which makes him all the more dangerous to be around.
You make a promise to never find yourself in his orbit for longer than necessary.
#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson x female reader#ari levinson x you#mafia!ari levinson#mob!ari levinson#ari levinson imagine#ari levinson fic#venomous vows#jamneuromain
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Mob Rules | Mafia AU | Reader x ...everyone
Bucky and Steve have banned girlfriends in the gang, but they're not cruel, they know their crew works hard and needs to let off steam sometimes...and that's when your hard work starts.
Warnings: 18+ for sexual content, language and themes now and throughout this AU
Follow @illyrianlibrary for updates!
Divider by @firefly-graphics & @saradika-graphics
Masterlist
Bucky - Cockwarming
Thor - Playtime
The room was completely silent. Each of the assembled crew around the table staring at Cap and Sarge.
You didn’t really want anyone else in the room, you had been quite happy, sprawled on the large blanket under the table, moving between your new masters in turn. You had been licking a long stripe up Bucky’s hard cock when the first knock sounded, jolting you from your soft state into one of panic.
Tucking himself away, Bucky had shouted ‘enter’ allowing a seeming herd of other people into the room.
Sensing your nervousness, Steve had placed his hand on your cheek, his thumb rubbing against your bottom lip until you sucked the digit into your mouth, once more content to rest between them while they carried out their business.
“Is this real, or a trick?” The man’s voice was like thunder, loud but clear. You couldn’t tell who was talking yet, only seeing a series of shoes, combat boots and a few loafers, one pair of battered trainers…you closed your eyes, sucking harder on Steve’s thumb and focussing on the polished shoes in front of you, one brown pair, one black pair, Steve and Bucky, Sir and Sarge, that was all you needed to worry about.
“It’s not a trick, Thor.” Steve rolled his eyes, “we know we brought that rule in, no girlfriends.”
A disgruntled murmur ran around the room, none of the men willing to vocalise how frustrated and angry they’d been since.
Bucky slammed his palm onto the table and the room went quiet again, you jumped clinging to his calf, but remained where you were.
“We brought the rule in, now we’re fixing it, but only if you're polite.” He growled.
“C’mon out, Bambi.” Steve and Bucky pushed their chairs back and Steve held out a hand to you, the ring on his pinky finger flashing in the afternoon light.
Placing one hand slowly in front of the other you crawled out from underneath the table, one hand on Steve’s thigh, one on Bucky’s. The latter reached down, cupping your chin in his large, tattooed hand and pinched your cheeks.
“Good girl, now say hello to the crew.”
You turned, kneeling high enough that your head and shoulders peeked over the top of the walnut table, resting your chin on one hand you raised the other in a wave, “hello.” You whispered, nervously eyeing the array of men and women sitting around the long conference table.
You’d been worried ever since Cap’ and Sarge had informed you that your world would be expanding outside of their closed off penthouse, but now you felt that familiar throb of longing deep between your legs. They were handsome, your masters’ friends, so perhaps this wouldn’t be so awful after all.
Bucky tucked a palm under your elbow and helped you stand, your feet wobbly after your time spent kneeling at his feet. Your heels tipped you forward slightly and you crossed your arms behind your back to steady yourself, pushing your chest out at the same time. A collective intake of air rippled around the room and, you supposed, that was to be expected given your scanty attire.
Steve had wanted you to make a good impression and had chosen a soft pink babydoll with plenty of ribbons and bows. You certainly felt like a doll once they’d finished dressing you up but you loved it, loved that you didn’t have to make any decisions anymore. You let your wide eyes take in the room again, the hungry looks in everyone’s eyes.
“Bambi, the family -” Steve gestured to the assembled group, “family, Bambi.”
There was a chorus of replies, hellos and good mornings before the room went quiet again.
“Well, we don’t have much work to do today, so -” Bucky looked up at you, his hand on your hip protectively, “get to know everyone, okay. Take your time.” His smile was soft, but dropped from his face when he looked back at the rest of the family, “as for you, be polite.” Bucky glared around the room, “and remember to play nicely.”
Vote on the next part HERE!
#Mafia AU#Bucky Barnes#Steve Rogers#Loki#Natasha Romanoff#ari levinson#Nick Fowler#joaquin torres#Thor#Mickey Henry#Steven Grant#marc spector#jake lockley#Sam Wilson#Andy Barber#valkyrie#Jake Jensen#wanda maximoff#Frank Castle#Maria Hill#Kraven the Hunter#Colin Shea#Max Sharper
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Here’s what I’m thinking about: Crashing Mob boss!Ari’s car
Pairing: Mafia!Ari x Fem!Reader CW: references to oral (m receiving), deepthroating, choking, facial, anal, gun/gunshots (no one is injured), spanking, 18+
Ari, for being a multi-millionaire kingpin, always seems rather indifferent to money and materialism. Which, admittedly, is a luxury he is afforded for having so much of it.
That said, if he will splurge on anything (besides you), it’s the shiny toys that line his three story garage. He’s generous though, if you beg extra pretty on your knees he’ll let you borrow any of them that you like. Some cars take more convincing than others, such was the case for his newly acquired Ferrari 250 GT Berlinetta Lusso, a vintage beauty that took you forty-five minutes on your knees, choking on his monster of a cock that he insisted kiss the inside of your throat, to even see the keys, let alone touch them.
In the end he'd conceded, something about your pretty face covered in his cum moving him to generosity. You'd spent a glorious half hour speeding around the estates backroads before a deer darting across the path had you instinctually swerving to avoid collision; instead of steel meeting flesh it met bark. The car collided with a sickening crunch.
Ari was always the first person you called when in distress, and that was putting your current state mildly, tears pouring from your eyes before he'd even picked up the phone. Your words were a jumble, trying to say too many things at once, primarily a mess of apologies, describing the state of the car, why you'd swerved- Ari didn't give a damn, only asking one thing over and over; "Are you alright?" but in your upset you managed to miss his question altogether.
It took him less than five minutes to locate you, storming up to where you were fussing over the damage done to the front end of the car- still shaking, tears staining your face. When he hooked you around the shoulders to pull you to face him you let out a big hiccupping cry, "Oh Ari, I'm so sor-sor-sorry-" He ignored your apology, too busy scanning you from head to toe, cataloging any scratch, bruise, or speck of blood he saw on you, once again asking if you were alright.
But once more instead of answering you started rambling about how much you knew he loved the car, how you hadn't consciously made the choice to swerve, that it looked bad but did he think there was a chance it could be salvaged, did- Fed up with your ignoring his question Ari yanked out the Smith & Wesson he kept tucked in the back waistband of his pants, pointing it at the un-marred body of the vehicle; "Fuck. the. car." He grit out between clenched teeth, each word enunciated with the loud pop of a shot, bullet holes joining the already present damage. It was enough to shock you into silence as Ari roughly grabbed your chin, manhandling you into looking him in the eyes, "Are. You. Alright?"
Later, as Ari roughly took your ass, having been offered it in penance, he made sure you knew that the punishing slaps he was delivering to the sensitive flesh weren't because you'd crashed the car, they were because for even one second you'd thought he would care more about the state of some thing than he did you.
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A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO @jamneuromain here’s a little gift for you. I hope you’ll enjoy the first one shot of the little kinda series. It was supposed to be a one shot but I didn’t finish it on time so…now it’ll be a two/three chapter series! I hope you’re enjoying your birthday. I wish you the best. I won’t specify what exactly because everything what happens should be the best! Meet the best people, make the best memories and the best experiences!!!!
Between the bookshelves
My Masterlist
A/N: it’s not beta read:) there’ll be mistakes, be prepared:)
Pairing: Mob Ari Levinson x bookshop/café owner reader
Series Summary: You’re a small-town-girl living in a big city, owning her own (somewhat successful) book- and coffee-shop, a dream you had been following for years. Some of the books are little works of your own, but nobody really knew it and nobody really read them, being just small stories between bestselling novels.
And yet there was a specific client that couldn’t put down your books.
The Saturday mornings were mostly quiet and got a bit more busy in the noon, where people start waking up or curing their hangovers-for some reason you had noticed everyone liked doing it in your little coffee shop. The quiet atmosphere, smell of coffee, cake and books was calming for the people. It was just good for their headaches. Just some time to themselves. Just some…peace. That’s how you could describe your shop. Peaceful.
Most of the time they would buy a coffee, maybe a sandwich or something sweet and would sit for a while, sometimes with their headphones on, sometimes with their eyes closed or other times watching the people walk past the windows.
You enjoyed watching people.
The older people that came by because your place had an older aesthetic, the walls made from old brick stone, the shelves and tables dark wood, the couches, loveseats, armchairs and chairs all being rather vintage than modern. Always ordering the apple pie from your grandma’s recipe. Could they taste like it was an old recipe? Did it taste differently from the other pies?
You also liked watching the business people rolling their eyes during calls or while typing something on their laptops. It was really entertaining. You also always gave them a free muffin if they spilled their coffee on some (probably important) documents.
So to say, everyone liked coming here, for whatever reasons. Maybe to drink your coffee, maybe to have some peace or forget what was happening in their busy lives, instead wanting to escape in one of the books. In your cafe was everything possible, they could just drink their coffee and enjoy some snacks or disappear in a fantasy world with witches, mermaids and vampires or into a simple romance or thriller. Whatever they wanted.
And then there was him.
He came here to see you smile. To hear your voice. To get to know you.
But until now he never actually spoke to you. Not unless it was to tell you his order.
And that’s it.
Ari was the head of the mob and yet he got cold feet when it came to talking to a pretty girl.
Usually he had no problems with talking to women, even targets or other dealers but you ... .it's like he was his teenage self again (or even worse, because he actually wasn’t that nervous back then.)
He didn’t want to mess it up too soon, since you seemed like a very nice person and probably wouldn’t approve of his work. So he wanted to show you his best side-even though he didn’t know how long he’d be able to hide his true identity.
And more important, how long he’d manage to keep you safe. That was his biggest concern. That’s also why he didn’t know if he should approach you.
For now it was enough to sit in your café and watch you from afar. Like a total creep.
Ari sighed, hitting his forehead on the table with a quiet thud. What the hell was he doing? He was making a total fool of himself? He’d now go to the counter and ask for your number.
Determined he stood up and did as planned. “Hi, may I ask for-“ “Y/N, the muffins are ready!”, shouted someone from what he assumed was the kitchen. You smiled apologetically. “Give me a minute”, with that you disappeared for a moment, coming back with a plate filled with muffins.
A bright smile crept once again onto your lips when you saw the beautiful stranger still waiting at the counter. He was one of your regulars and yet you never catched his name. Nor anything else beside his usual order. “Another cappuccino?”, you saw him opening his mouth, before nodding. “Yeah, another cappuccino, thank you”, he smiled, brushing his hair behind his ear before taking out his card.
He definitely noticed the muffin decorated with heart sprinkles to his coffee, that he hadn’t ordered. Also, he got your name. This was more than he had actually expected.
And this muffin definitely meant something, right?
You watched him for a second from behind the counter, before needing to go clean up a table. You hoped he had seen the number written on the handkerchief.
He didn’t. He threw it away.
But you didn’t know that. You imagined he threw it away on purpose. Maybe he felt awkward? Or even uncomfortable? God, you have messed up. What if he’d never come back again?
Sighing you looked out of the window imagining the beautiful man talking to you about something different than just his usual order.
Two weeks. Two whole weeks Ari couldn’t go to your café and it made him crazy. Even though he didn’t know you, he missed your sweet smile. The słuchały oversized pink hoodie you liked wearing, especially when it was a bit colder, how you always wore your hair in a bun or ponytail, showing off your beautiful rosy cheeks. The way your eyes lightened up when you talked to him-he didn’t know if it was something that happened with every customer, but he liked imagining this sparkle was just for him.
Maybe it was.
Maybe it wasn’t.
But he hoped it was.
When the quiet bell sounded as he entered the café you lifted your head, having been caught up in messaging someone while there was some quiet time in the shop. There were only a few customers busy with eating and drinking, some others reading some books.
He walked up to the counter, opening his mouth to greet you, but his voice broke when he saw your slightly rosy cheeks, the soft smile on your lips. “Hello, the usual?”, you smiled at him, making him even more speechless so he just nodded.
For fucks sake what was happening to him. How the hell could you make him speechless with just a smile even though he was able to talk to twenty men with guns in hands and files longer than some restaurant menus.
Sighing, he walked to his usual table, hanging off his jacket over the chair before walking to the shelves, looking for a new book.
He found one about a complicated love story between a college student and her professor, from what he could read in the summary-but it wasn’t the plot that surprised him.
It was your picture.
You were the author.
Ari immediately took it and walked with it over to his table where he immediately started reading. He wasn’t really into romance stuff, but it was your book. It was a piece of you, in a way, and he wanted to know something about you. About the relationship you seek, the gestures that made your breath hitch and what made your heart flutter.
So he started reading.
Within a few pages he was already pulled into the story, completely losing himself in the story, interested in the problematic relationship the main characters had. Just when the main character was supposed to meet with her professor you walked up to his table with a coffee and muffin that he hadn’t ordered.
When he looked up at you and slightly closed the book you could see he was reading your book. Your cheeks turned a dark red color. Usually it wouldn’t matter who read your book but him-not him. He wasn’t supposed to know about the things you liked, about your desires and-about your sexual preferences! Jesus. Maybe he hadn’t read who the author was?
At this point you’d rather just go to bed and never leave it again. Like, really, never.
Sighing you walked back behind the counter, not noticing the lingering gaze on you.
Three hours later, Ari was still busy with the book. At this point the story was so addictive he couldn’t put it down. The main character was a total sweetheart and the professor-god what a dick he was. Such a liar. Even though he had already messed up once, he didn’t tell his lover he still had a wife. Okay, yes, they were divorcing soon but still-he should’ve told his girlfriend about it. It’s a detail you should mention. Preferably from the beginning and not letting the girlfriend find out because the wife walked into his apartment?? Jesus!
He scoffed at the book and wanted to turn the page when his phone rang. “Levinson”, he listened to his friend about having found out who had stolen guns and other weapons from him. Ari could tell his frown deepened with every second, the vein on his forehead already pulsing from anger. Fury, even. He tried to be a good man. Really. Holding back all the time-but having one of his men betray him…this was too much. It was-
“Do you want a refill?” Your sweet voice interrupted his racing thoughts, his nerves immediately calming down, the frown disappearing. Instead a smile reappeared on his lips. “I can’t. I have to go and get some …business stuff done”, he said, already standing up. It was the first time you two were so close to each other.
His Perfume smelled overpowering, but in a surprisingly good way. It made you crave this man even more than before. The smell was just heavenly. You couldn’t stop yourself from breathing it in deeply, nearly closing your eyes to enjoy it for a bit longer but instead you looked into Ari’s bright eyes. He was taller than you, bigger than you. He towered over you, but you didn’t feel threatened. You felt safe.
Fuck. Your crush was turning into something much worse.
Little did you know that’s exactly what Ari thought too.
It’s not really unusual for him being taller or bigger than someone, but with you it’s like something inside him awoke. The need to keep you close. Keep you safe. He knew how dangerous the world could be, especially for a woman like you. But he could take care of you.
He’d love to wrap his arms around you, bury his nose against your neck and inhale your sweet smell, feel your soft skin…
He had it bad. So, so bad.
A last smile crept onto his lips before he grabbed his jacket and walked over to the door, looking once again back at you meeting your gaze. You blushed at that, making Ari’s heart pound.
He’ll ask for your number. Next time when he’ll be here.
But he didn’t. The next time, two days later, he just drank his coffee and read the book. Ari was Never this curious about a book but yours was just…incredible. The love story, the whole plot. Unbelievable. And also…thinking you had such a…interesting view of sex made him curious if you’d do the things in real life, too.
Were you into the same things as the main character? Spanking? Dom and sub dynamics in real life? Being called a good girl? Fuck, he really tried not to think about these things at night. (He failed sometimes.)
“Would you like some apple pie?”, you sweet voice made him lift his head. “Oh, sure, how much-“ “no, no, that’s on the house…it’s a gift. From me.” Your gentle tone made his heart throb, while he nodded. “Thank you.”
While he watched you walk away he wasn’t sure what to do next. You were such a kind and sweet person. And he was…he wasn’t good. Far from that, actually. You two couldn’t be more different. While you were a gentle soul that gave away the food that was left after a shift to the homeless, he was capable of torturing people without blinking an eye. He was cruel, cold and furious.
He wasn’t good enough for you. He knew. And he knew he’d only make your life miserable and dangerous. Maybe he already did with spending so much time at your café. Your worlds were too far from each other for you to date. Or even be friends.
“Here you go-enjoy”, once again did your voice pull him out of his thoughts-and a gentle touch on his shoulder. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
Fuck. It just slipped. From all the reading-he forgot. It was unbelievable how your whole being influenced his behavior, how you were able to make him forget about his whole being.
Just when he wanted to apologise a shy but bright smile formed on your lips, a slight blush slowly creeping over your cheeks. Without saying anything else you squeezed his shoulder for a second before stepping away from his table, being called over by an older couple.
Even though he really wanted to read more, his phone was getting blow up with messages about the recent thefts. They knew who caused them but not where he was hiding. The fact that it was one of his men still angried him, even more because nobody could find him.
But he needed the stolen things back. ASAP. Otherwise even he could get in trouble-which didn’t happen often.
He looked at the pie, smiling as he noticed the little heart you had drawn with whipped cream. The thought of not being able to have you made his heart crumble a little.
Why couldn’t he be just a simple man with a simple life?
Because he liked the luxurious life he had.
But maybe he could try the simple way of living for once?
Oh who was he lying to, everyone he knew would say he’d never have a standard live. He liked having an expensive car, the newest phone, eating out especially in nice restaurants or nice vacations somewhere far away.
He was curious about what you liked. Maybe he could invite you to his favourite restaurant? Seeing you in a elegant long dress, your beautiful neck exposed…maybe covered in some little hickeys, marks ... ..or maybe a simple and decent day collar. Just a neck with a little ring…only the people involved would understand-and maybe some people would even compliment your necklace, not knowing what it meant.
Ari’s whole chest tingled with need.
But he didn’t want to destroy your life by pulling into the mess he was in.
Sighing he took a little bite from the pie, immediately closing his eyes in pleasure. It tasted incredible. Perfect even.
He hadn't had such a good pie in a long time.
Ari ate the pie within a few minutes, not having enough time to eat in peace since his phone was ringing all the time.
Once again when he left he could feel your lingering gaze on his back.
Next time. He’d talk to you next time.
You promised the same thing to yourself…and your best employee-well, best friend, because she couldn’t handle listening to your venting about Ari anymore.
This time he couldn’t come to your café for over two weeks, since he was after Alex, the thief. And he didn’t have much time to relax. Especially not in your café, also he didn’t want to come closer in case someone was following him-which he believed was possible seeing what was happening.
But he really missed you, even though you hadn’t had a real conversation yet. It’s just…your smile could brighten his mood, it didn’t matter how bad the day was.
When he finally visited your place again the first thing he noticed was how your frown disappeared and how you leaned over the counter slightly. “Hello! Long time no see”, you grinned at him.
Ari chuckled at your enthusiasm, immediately feeling how your presence cheered him up. “Yeah I had a lot of stuff going on…it’s complicated. I’m just glad I can finally drink a coffee here…sit, enjoy the atmosphere here…it’s probably the only place where I feel like I can forget about the whole mess with-…you know, life”, he mumbled, shaking his head slowly.
When he took out his wallet your hand touched his and you slowly pushed it away. “It’s fine, this one's on me…maybe we could…sit a bit together? Talk?”, you smiled gently, seeing how the gears in the man’s head started doing their job.
“Sounds very nice, yes. I’d love to sit and talk a bit…”, he didn’t sound entirely sure about it, but you believed him anyway. Maybe he really had a bad day. “Perfect, then you can go sit down and I’ll be with you in a minute.”
After he did what said you started preparing the coffees and a piece of brownie for each. He’d definitely like it. At least you hoped he would.
“I’m pretty sure we never really introduced-I’m Y/N, nice to meet you”, when you finally sat down Ari turned his phone around so the screen wouldn’t be visible. You really hoped he wasn’t hiding a wife or kid. Or both? Let’s not be paranoid…but still…
Ari smiled at you, pushing his phone even further away. It’s not like you’d grab it and read his messages? This guy was a bit suspicious…but you knew not to judge a book by its cover. “I’m Ari, it’s nice to meet you. I wanted to talk to you for a while now…I couldn’t never really get myself to do it”, he chuckled, making you unintentionally but your lip a bit.
Did it mean he liked you just as much as you liked him?
“I’m glad. I was curious if we’d ever say more to each other than your usual order”, your words made him chuckle again and he shook his head a bit. “Yeah that…I don’t really like changes and besides, your coffee is really good. When I find a place I like, I don’t like changing things.” Ari took a sip from his coffee to prove his point-and once again the coffee was as good as always.
He noticed how seemingly pleased you were with this simple compliment. Wasn’t it obvious how good everything here was? Especially the barista…which he wouldn’t say out loud, but he’d think about it.
“What will happen to them? Will they have a Happy End?” Ari lifted the book he had once again taken from the shelf. One of your first pieces you had tried to write and actually finish. But you were still slightly insecure sometimes-especially when the person reading was someone you’d rather like to impress.
You shrugged slowly, a teasing smirk creeping over your lip. “I guess you’ll have to come here often and finish it yourself. I won’t spoil the ending for you. What’s the fun in reading it then?” Ari shook his head amused.
“I rather like knowing what’s coming, you know? To prepare myself for it, the same in real life-especially my business. It sucks to know that you’re being lied to”, he had no idea why he was telling you this but it felt good. It’s like his heart was speaking for him, even though his brain was screaming at him to shut up and preferably leave you alone.
But he listened to his heart, for once. He wanted to listen to his heart this one time.
You placed your hand over his, squeezing gently. “I understand. It must be hard having someone close betray you…if I may ask, what did he do? And where do you two work?”, you asked. Curiosity was never your best trait, but to your defence ari was the one speaking about it first. You had the right to ask…right?
Ari stilled for a second, looking down at his phone, then his coffee, hands, back at his phone and finally back at you. “It’s office work, but I can’t tell you much more about it”, you could tell he was lying right to your face.
Did you care about it? Did you see the red flags and decided to ignore them?
Nobody ever said you always made the right choices.
“I understand. Still sucks being lied too by someone important”, you squeeze his hand again.
At least he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Maybe this weird gut feeling was from nervousness and not…something else. He seemed like a nice and charming guy.
On the other hand…
So did Ted Bundy.
You quickly shook those thoughts away…for now.
To your surprise you two talked for nearly two hours, before the café started to be flooded by customers and you had to go back to work. Ari left you his number, telling you to call him when you’d need any help…or just to talk.
Happily you enjoyed the rest of the shift, already thinking about texting Ari later in the evening.
Thank you for reading!
I Hope you liked it! Let me know! Support your content creators by reblogging and leaving feedback:)
Taglist: @magnificentsaladllama @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @lilsiz
#ari levinson x you#ari levinson x y/n#ari levinson#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson one shot#ari levinson series#mob ari levinson#mafia boss ari levinson#café au#coffee shop
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Birthday princess 
pairing || woc!reader x mob!ari levinson
genera || fluff.
summary || how’s Ari dealing with someone trying to disrespect his girl.
wordcount || 2,4K
Donate to my ko-fi!
A vicious man who will go to any length to make his sweetheart smile.
Growing up, Ari enjoyed his mother's elaborate celebrations, where everything had to be extravagantly flawless—whether they were birthday parties, wedding anniversaries, or charity events. He thinks his mother did all that to compensate for her husband, his father’s harsh reality.
He especially gets excited whenever his birthday is nearing, he loved when he was ten and he loves it now, almost thirty seven years old.
Even though, it's different from when he was younger, he still enjoyed it. However, the idea of someone not celebrating their milestone were awful to him, So when he found out his precious girl never celebrated her birthday he was horrified.
He couldn’t fathom that someone not celebrating their birthday especially someone as sweet as his girl.
Your birthday was never acknowledged by your parents. Not even a happy birthday was said. Although, your siblings celebrated theirs, no one ever seemed to remember yours.
As you got older, you just forget about it. You knew you missed something, but there was nothing you could do to persuade your parents to celebrate your birthday because they always had some excuse not to.
At first, you resisted Ari's insistence on throwing you a birthday party. Therefore, Ari did not celebrate your first birthday together as he had intended while you two were together. But of course he did do something to celebrate.
He took you to an upscale restaurant, after both of you finished eating, he gave you your gift; an elegant pair of earrings. That was the first time anyone had ever given you anything. You were appreciative, till this day you never taken them off.
The following year, when your birthday approached, Ari broached the subject once more, you told him you didn't care and that what you both did last year was enough yet Ari didn't think so. He wants to give you the experience of celebrating your birthday properly.
After much persuasion, you agreed to the birthday party, Ari got his mother's party planner number in order for you to contact her to plan your birthday, he didn’t set a budget for it; just told you to do what your heart desired.
"I want everything to go as smoothly as possible, Steve, I don't want anything to go wrong," Ari says as he sips from his brownish liquor.
"Of course, I'll tell Peter to oversee everything," you'd assume from the way they're both talking seriously in their black suits that it had to be about business. No, it's Ari's princess 24th birthday celebration. Which, if you think about it, is more important.
Ethan, your bodyguard and friend, is racing with with staff members making sure everything is perfect for your birthday, including the lights, decorations, DJ, food and drinks.
“She even got Ethan to do all the work” steve mumbled to Ari who let out a chuckle “I can’t believe he’s the toughest one of our men” He sips the rest of his drink before smiling to himself “wait for me in the werehouse” Steve only nodded.
He went upstairs to the guest bedroom where you had your makeup artist and hairstylist stay because Ari doesn't like it when people are in his room.
He stared at you from the doorway, completely captivated; the expression of happiness in your eyes brought happiness to him as well; he can't believe someone could be so cruel as to not love or spoil you in the way you deserve.
"Can you leave us for a minute?" As soon as he said it, the room quieted down, and your best friend, Nat, who you met through Ari's friends, spoke up, "sure, we will be outside," she patted your shoulder. She had already dressed in a black silk dress, done her makeup beautifully with smokey eyes and her signature red lipstick that matches her hair, she looks stunning.
"You look pretty," he began, staring at you from the mirror “you do, too," you said, turning around to face him.
He takes a step closer to you, as soon as he is within reach, you wrap your hand around his neck, drawing him closer to you, tilting your heads up to lock your gaze on him smiling lovingly.
"Ethan needs a day off tomorrow," when you noticed that the party planner were demanding you gave her Ethan's phone number so she could organize everything with him rather than you, you just told them what you want the theme of your party.
He initially objected, after all, he is the toughest man. But he agreed simply because he likes you and he wants you to have the nicest and most memorable birthday celebration ever.
"Sure, anything you want." Even Ari is taking a day off tomorrow, he wants to spend it with you while business is calm nowadays.
"You spoil me a lot," you said, kissing his jaw. He smiled “that's the least I could do for you. honey"
"Thank you, I love you too much." You kissed him again. "I love you too."
"I’m leaving for a bit; I've got a business to take care of, and I’ll be back before the party starts."
"Why?" You pout. Is he going to skip your birthday? You know it was stupid. You shouldn’t have agreed. Maybe your parents is right; it is a waste of time.
"They need me there; it won’t take too long, maybe an hour max," he told you while curdling your face between his large hands and kissing your lips softly.
“You promise?” You smiled softly at him.
"Absolutely,I wouldn’t miss it for the world” he replied, you kissed him again.
“I’ll leave you now to finish, honey."
“Okay be careful”
“Always”
He left, and the girls returned to do their tasks. Wanda followed Nat into the room; it appears that your friends are already showing up, so you should finish quickly.
“Hey! Nat told me you invited Ema?” Wanda said as soon as she’s stepped beside you, “hello to you too” you turned to her smiling.
“Im sorry babe” she kissed your cheek before continuing “is it true?”
“Yes, i thought it would be rude to invite all of our friend group except her!”
Nat spoke looking at Wanda “told you”
“Yep, she’s tooooo nice” Wanda replied.
“I don’t know, Ari is inviting his friends and business partners, his mom and sisters are coming as well as their friends, so I think it would be crowded and she won’t be a bother!”
“I hope so” Nat said before looking at Wanda who was fixing her red dress, adjusting her breasts “what are you doing?”
“I’m gonna go see Ethan, wish me luck” Wanda and Ethan has been flirting a lot lately, you know they would end up together it was just a matter of time.
Everyone has arrived an hour and a half later, including your friends, Ari's friends, and family. Nat helped you dressing up in your pink gown, you wore your jewelry as well. Wanda is working as your personal photographer; she took many photos of you before you had to go downstairs so the party could begin.
When the DJ announced your entrance, everyone's eyes turned to you, yelling and clapping, while your eyes scanned the the place looking for Ari.
As soon as your gaze latched on him, you smiled brightly, relaxing for a while before getting down and everyone began to approach you, wishing you a happy birthday.
You were quite apprehensive because it was the first time you had ever been the center of attention at any form of event.
Nat gave you a microphone so you could thank everyone who came to celebrate with you, and you specifically thanked Ari, none of this would happened if it weren’t for him. You wished them a good evening.
After you handed the DJ the microphone, you felt like you were being crushed in a hug by someone, and when you looked down, you discovered it was Ari's younger sister, Amara.
“Happy Birthday!!!!!” She said screaming a bit. You laughed before hugging her back.
“Stop squeezing my girl to death” Ari teased his sister before greeting his mom and his older sister Sadie.
When Amara separated from you Sadie hugged you, as well as his mother.
"Happy birthday, sweetheart; i loved the party theme!"
"Thank you, Mrs. Levinson," you respectfully said. The elder woman scoffs at you, "sweetheart, we've been through this a lot! Please call me Freya; you make me feel old."
"Oh, I'm sorry, I'll start calling you Freya," you said hesitantly, knowing she had told you that several times but you always forgot. Your mother taught you to never address someone by their first name; instead, use Mr. or Mrs.
Sadie looked around “are we finally going to meet your family?”
Your communication with your family has diminished since you left for college; you text and call, but they don't reach out to you as frequently as you would want. It's what they've wanted ever since you were born. To forget all about you.
You gave them an invitation to your party, but they did not respond. And when you called they didn’t pick up, No surprise.
You didn’t tell Ari that, you didn’t want him to feel sorry for you. But he can see it in your face when his sister mentioned your family.
“Oh they’re busy, they couldn’t make it!” You hoped your excuse was believed and by the look they gave you they did.
After a small talk they left to join other people for dance and chatting.
Ari left you alone for a minute to talk with his friends while you drank and danced with your friends.
Hours later, it was time to cut the cake, two servants brought the cake to a table in front of you. Ari hand wrapped around your waist while your hand was on top of his, him and everyone else singing happy birthday for you.
"Make a wish!" Nat called for you, and everyone else joined her, you giggled before closing your eyes and making a wish.
After opening your eyes and blowing on the candle, everyone clapped and whistled for you.
"I want to show you something," Ari whispered in your ear. You turned around, looking into his eyes. "What?"
"Come with me," he said, taking your hand a bit further and directing you to the double massive doors, which opened immediately.
A Rolls-Royce Ghost in Champagne Rose pulled in, you could hear the stunned screams of the people surrounding you; you were as surprised as they were.
“Oh my god!!, you didn’t!!!” You looked between Ari and the car, Ethan stepped out of the car, passing the keys to Ari, who handed them to you.
“All yours baby” you jumped on him, hugging him firmly, thanking him constantly “I love you i love you i love you!!”
Nat and Wanda came close to you both “girl you have to take us for a ride!!”
“I can’t wait to show off my first car ever!!” You smiled big and jumped up and down while clapping.
Wanda smiled “let me take pictures of you with the car!” She took her phone out and you got beside the car posing while she took a couple of pictures of you.
You grabbed Ari hand wanting him in the pictures. He smiled before letting you posing him in whatever way you wanted.
If he could, he would have given you the entire world without asking, but for the time being, he will give you anything your heart desire.
Life has its own way of repaying you. While you spent the previous twenty-three years begging someone to spare you a glance, right now you could ask for anything and it wouldn’t be trouble to give.
From behind, an irritating loud noise was heard. "I told you that he is her sugar daddy!!" Everyone fell silent, wondering who it was.
Your smile faded slightly; you weren't a particularly confrontational person to begin with. People would walk all over you while you excused them. You were too kind and too afraid to ever react to anyone.
“Who said that?" Ari stated calmly yet furiously, everyone got quiet surprised at the person who is brave enough to insult Ari’s girl
Wanda and Nat exchanged knowing glances. Finally, Ema made a fool of herself in front of Ari.
They know Ari doesn't accept disrespect, especially to those who don't deserve it, and to disrespect his girl? Oh, she just dug up her grave.
“Ema did," Nat answered, unconcerned about your glares.
Ari doesn't want to ruin your first birthday celebration, but he can't let this individual get away with it.
When he observed a girl who appeared shaking with fear, everyone's gaze was drawn to her, he knew it was her, and he approached her moved in front of her eye sight, almost nothing can stand between them.
"There are two reasons for saying this; one is that you are jealous because no one has ever loved you enough to provide you with something you desired, or YOU don't deserve to be loved or cared for like i do with my girl, I believe the latter it is," he said as calm as he can be
He could hear Wanda and Nat laughing mockingly at her. Finally, someone standing up to this bitch.
“Get the fuck out of my house and don't ever think of disrespecting my girl; or the next time you won't have a tongue to talk with; are we clear?" She nodded so quickly
“Good," he said, motioning for two of his guards to accompany her out; Bucky pointed out for the DJ to play some music to keep the party going.
Wanda yelled “ oh my god i love this song”
Her and Nat went dancing on the dance floor, while everyone else seemed to have forgotten what had happened and continued to have fun.
"Are you alright, sweetheart?" Ari spoke to you in hushed tones.
"Yeah, I'm fine," you replied, smiling back. "Do you know this is the first time I've seen you in your mob mode?"
“Really??” Ari was taken aback, saying, "I hope I didn't scare you."
"You did not, thank you for standing up for me; I really thought inviting her to my party would make her nice to me," you said, "I didn't want to divide our group into two sides."
"Sometimes, honey, being nice to someone so low is not the solution; if they don't respect you, they have to go; it's either they do or they don't." His huge hands comforted you by moving circles behind your back.
You thought for a moment about what he said "Yeah, you're right"
You got closer to him, your lips almost touching, "do you want to take my new car for a ride?"
"I thought you'd never ask."
#chris evans#ari levinson angst#ari levinson fluff#mob!ari levinson#chris evans x woc!reader#chris evans x black women#chris evans x fluff#chris evans x plus size reader#chris evans x poc!reader#ari levinson#ari levinson x black!reader#ari levinson x plus size reader#ari levinson x desi!reader#ari levinson x y/n#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson x female reader#ari levinson x woc!reader#self reblog#mafia!ari levinson#mafia!Ari#mafia romance#chris evans x you#chris evans imagine
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Oof...I voted for the wrong thing! 😆 I am already loving this! That mix of sweetness with the darkness...I can feel some delicious filth coming! (I'm loving the toxic bf, too! 🤤)
🍓° 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.
𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑
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 ☼
I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
#ari levinson#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson fanfic#ari levinson fanfiction#ari levinson au#ari levinson x fem!reader#ari levinson x female reader#mafia ari levinson#mafia au#mafia!ari levinson#ari levinson x you#reader insert#melting au#ari levinson x lovesick!reader#lovesick!reader#sonny’s stories#chris evans#Chris evans fanfic#Chris evans fanfiction#Chris evans characters#chris evans x reader#ari levinson fluff#lovesick reader#tw mafia#ari levinson x Stripper!reader#sweet!reader#ari levinson one shot#red sea diving resort#fanfic rec#fanfic blog
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Sweet Thrill
mafia!Ari Levinson x female reader; mob boss Ari Levinson x female reader
summary: Many would consider your job as a dancer at Lloyd Hansen’s exclusive night club to be exciting or scary, but honestly you see it as predictable and stable. It’s mostly a routine. That’s until Ari Levinson enters the club. You draw his attention and he installs himself in your space, bringing fear and thrill along with him.
warnings: mostly consensual, but with a peppering of faint dub-con; soft dark Ari Levinson; possessive behavior; light pet play; fear kink; light Master/pet play; bdsm undertones; power imbalance; fingering; pet names; collaring; very very subtle degradation and humiliation (nothing hardcore)
You were used to the glow of the lightened platforms and curious eyes tracing your body as you wriggled against silk scarves. You entertained patrons of Hansen’s exclusive club three nights a week - a form of aerial dance with heavy drapes of silk, just with less acrobatics.
Lloyd knew his clientele. He knew some of them are bored and looking for typical visual entertainment, with a side of members-only high class to boost their moods. Some of his guests were more sophisticated, had less boring tastes.
Hence Lloyd’s idea to add unique performances to spice up the classic pole dancing routines, like belly dancers, or your sensual play with silk.
Since the performances were only that - a show no touch - you felt quite comfortable and confident. And Lloyd, for all his sociopathic ticks, paid really fucking good money. Enough for you to keep studying for your degree, without having to balance three different jobs.
Out there on the little round stage you focused on your dance and poses, sometimes a repetitive movement, and let your thoughts swim to what you needed to do the next day, or how to crack the problem in your studies; because the club’s patrons were only staring at you and no harm would come your way. No need to be wary.
Especially, since Lloyd made it very clear that his employees weren’t to be disturbed.
If it didn’t come with extra payment, anyway.
Yes, extra payment softened Lloyd’s harsh looks. Made him smirk triumphantly and have a talk with a dancer that caught someone’s attention, convincing her of the benefits.
You never considered such an offer to come your way. Your performance with silk scarves was perhaps an interesting change of pace for some, but never a desirable show they wanted to have right between their spread legs.
That is until Ari Levinson strolled into Lloyd’s club one night.
You weren’t even aware of his presence, your thoughts scrambling and rewriting the thesis you were currently working on in your studies as your body twisted against silk curtains, fabric slithering between your thighs and across your torso.
You had no idea how important, or how powerful that man was. You knew, mostly from gossip and the few observations you did yourself, that Lloyd played bigger games outside of the club. You never thought he dipped as deep to the dark side to have ties to a crime lord of Levinson’s caliber.
As you had no idea that a dark overlord of a whole fucking coast had unique tastes.
It was as you twisted between the silk, fingers clenched on the hanging scarves as you bent back, that your gaze landed on a tall, broad man in a dark suit who stepped so close to your podium.
Most intense blue eyes caught your gaze, making you freeze in your position. It was a look of wonder and pure hunger. A dark glint to it that made your heart race, as if you were a prey that sensed a deadly predator approaching, but it also sent a jolt straight to your core.
Patrons usually watched you with some mild admiration or interest, or disgusting type of lust. This man looked at you with desire for more than just wetting his cock in your cunt. He took in every inch of you, seemed as if he wanted to take all your thoughts as well.
It was more scary than leering glances, or lewd comments you heard on rare occasions.
At the end of the night, just when you were ready to slip away and drive home, Lloyd called you into his office.
For a second you feared he was about to complain about your shows not being interesting anymore, but the grin he flashed when you entered spoke of something entirely different.
“Cupcake!” He greeted you and with a flourish invited you over to a blue, kitsch sofa.
You sat there stunned when he told you that you’ve caught Ari Levinson’s attention - something (judging by Lloyd’s tone) that was very hard to do - and that he demanded you be exclusively booked for him.
Your shock deepened when Lloyd explained that Ari wasn’t asking for an occasional lap dance, but that you be taken off the main stage and perform in a private room. Only for him.
He paid Lloyd in advance, to have one of the rooms adjusted to fit your silk curtains over the little platform in the center of the room. Also offered to pay a triple wage of what a standard private dance cost. An offer Lloyd had no desire to refuse, since you unexpectedly appeared to be a golden goose.
And since Lloyd sweetened the request with a ready annex to your contract, stating that you’d be earning more for this exclusivity, you didn’t hesitate for long.
Perhaps you should have.
Perhaps, if you knew how out of your comfort zone you find yourself in, you’d decline and argue with Lloyd over it (though you had a feeling this one time he wouldn’t be a charming psychopath, but a manipulative and threatening bastard if you affronted his powerful client with your refusal).
That’s how you found yourself out of the familiarity of the main stage and bland stares you would have ignored, and on a round podium in a lush, dark interior of a private VIP room.
With Ari Levinson spread comfortably on the seats, a glass of whisky in his hand, watching you intently.
Your first evening performing only for him went quietly, somehow calming you down. He only watched you, made no comments, nor attempts to grab you. Merely asked you, between your dances, if you wanted something to drink or eat.
On your second evening he asked how you’ve been and nodded, pleased, when you replied with a shy smile. He extended his hand to you to help you climb up onto the platform. Then enjoyed your dancing.
Each time, however, you were unable to simply fall back into the mindless rhythm of your performance. Your thoughts wouldn’t just switch to think of other matters, because they were focused on the predator sitting in front of you.
Every part of you seemed to be acutely aware of his presence and attention.
He seemed fascinated. And hungry for every inch of you, inside and outside.
It terrified you.
How intense his scrutiny was, how dangerous it was to have a man like Ari Levinson interested in you in any matter; and how, when you went home afterwards, you bit onto your pillow to muffle your sounds as you got yourself off.
You read about it - how adrenaline and tension from stress can be lowered with a few orgasms.
You just weren’t quite sure if you only relieved nervousness, or if you were actually turned on.
Considering Levinson’s looks, arousal couldn’t be dismissed.
He was the hottest man you’ve ever seen. Big, easily towering over you. With muscles that strained the fabric of his clothes. His hair looked invitingly soft, his beard neatly trimmed and his lips plush and kissable.
And he kept looking at you - undressing you with his eyes, promising dark sinful things, but also seeing right through you and able to find (and use) your weaknesses.
When you finished your dance that evening, in a pose with the silk scarves wrapped around your arms and pulling them back as you bent forward, head bow low and ass up high, Ari slowly stood up.
He stepped close to the little stage and with the pads of his fingers tilted your chin up so you were looking up at him.
“Almost perfect,” he purred, leaning down a little, “all you need is for your brain to turn off completely.”
He smirked when you blinked confused.
“All these thoughts go through your head, does your brain ever stop? Do you ever go dumb, kitten?” He chuckled as your eyes got bigger. “I noticed you became more present in the scene when you started dancing for me, but there’s still so much overthinking.”
“Come.” He patted your cheek and motioned for you to get off the stage.
After a bit of less graceful struggling with the silk scarves - mostly due to nervousness Mr Levinson suddenly caused - you were ready to get down.
He helped you, his hand waiting for your fingers to slip into his hold. This time, once you found yourself on the floor level, he didn’t let you go. Instead, he sat down on the velvet seat and pulled you onto his lap.
You fell forward with a gasp, which turned into a squeak when he used both hands to grab your hips and make you straddle him.
With club patrons being fully dressed, usually in suits, and you wearing a set of lingerie, you were always exposed. However, now, being seated in Mr Levinson’s lap, you felt even more naked and vulnerable.
“S-sir!” You exclaimed, hands resting on his broad shoulders and trying to push yourself off of him.
“Shh, settle down, kitten.” He cooed. “Nothing bad is going to happen.”
You were about to point out that it already was, since you never had any guest touch you like he did at the moment. Much less have you straddling them.
“We can take things as slow as you need.” He rubbed his thumbs along the band of your white, lacy panties. “I will woo you as romantically, as you wish. But this-” Ari gripped your hips tighter and pulled you even closer, your core rubbing right over his bulge- “Is the endgame, kitten.”
“Mr Levinson.” Your fingers clenched on his shoulders as you tried to keep your breath from hitching at the delicious sensation. “I only dance for you.”
“No, kitten. You dance only for me.” Ari corrected.
“Dance being the key word here.” You frowned, but somehow you didn’t struggle to escape his hold.
Ari Levinson wasn’t a man whom one could escape easily. Over the weeks you learned bits and pieces, through others and your own curious research. It was all shrouded in a veil of mystery and disappearances, but you understood enough to realize he was a mobster with strict rules and lethal means.
Trying to fight him could end badly for you. At least that’s what logic suggested.
There was another part of you, which simply found the whole interaction thrilling.
I’m either really stupid, or I’ve gone mad, you thought to yourself as a shiver of arousal spread through your body at the dark glint in Ari’s eyes.
“Oh, kitten, you’ll be dancing for me in every sense of the word and more.” He tilted his head to the side, his gaze trained on your face then shifting down your body and back up.
“You’re a smart girl. I know you’re going for a degree, you have ambitious plans, extracurricular activities.”
You gulped, realizing Levinson did a background check on you. Maybe even pried into more private and supposedly secure aspects of your life.
“I’m sure you’ve done as much research on me as you could.” Ari continued in a calm tone. “You have a vague idea of who I am, what I deal with. And, like any smart girl, you’re probably scared. Am I right?”
You didn’t possess enough bravado (or stupidity) to deny it, so you nodded wordlessly.
“But it also turns you on, doesn’t it?” a corner of his mouth curled in a smirk.
“No!” You denied hastily, though you felt your face heat up.
Ari shook his head as he tsk-ed in reprimand. He squeezed your chin between his thumb and forefinger, a little forcefully, but not hard enough to cause you pain.
Your nipples hardened instantly.
It felt as if your body was completely beyond your control. It slipped under Ari’s control.
“Don’t lie to me, kitten.” He warned you.
Before you managed to utter another objection, your lips parted on a gasp as you felt Ari’s other hand settle over your mound.
He slipped a thumb beneath the fabric of your panties; glided it over your clit and a smear of wetness that slowly sipped from between your folds.
“Not aroused, huh?” Ari snorted as he brought his hand up and sucked your glistening slick off his finger.
Your pupils dilated as you watched him wrap his pink lips over his thumb, your mind instantly creating an image of those lips sucking on your clit. Or your nipples. Tormenting each peak until it’s swollen and pulsing unbearably and you scream for mercy.
“Told you,” Ari sighed in mock-disappointment, “You’re thinking too much, kitten.”
Holding your chin in his grip, Ari slid his other hand down your body - over one of your breasts, your belly, your hip, and back down between your spread thighs.
“Thinking about what needs to be done. Thinking of what you should or shouldn’t be doing. Thinking how wrong it is to be turned on by being scared of what a dangerous bastard like me might do to a sweet, little kitten like you.”
His whole palm slid under the waistband of your panties; big fingers cupped your mound.
“You know what I’ll do to you?” Ari whispered, leaning close enough his lips nearly brushed yours.
“E v e r y t h i n g.” He chuckled darkly and your whole body shook.
“I’m going to do every filthy thing that gets this pussy wet.” Slowly, he dragged his fingers up and down over your folds. “I’m going to do everything that makes you smile. Everything that makes you happy.”
“Most of all… I’m going to do everything that turns your brain off.”
With those words, Ari slid a single digit into your hot, tingling cunt.
Your mouth opened, a wrecked whimper falling out. Your hands fisted the fabric of Ari’s shirt as his thumb started drawing fast, tight circles over your clit.
It quickly became a torment, having only one finger stretching your walls, but not moving, while your clit was being rubbed mercilessly, pushing you toward a climax with astonishing speed.
You tried to push your hips down, rock yourself on Ari’s finger and tempt him to do more with his hand. He squeezed your chin harder.
“Don’t.” He growled. “Don’t think of what you want, or need. Or what you assume I want. Your job isn’t to think. You just take what I give. I decide about everything.”
Maybe it was the way he tormented your clit, or his words that sank you into dark cushions of mindless pleasure, but you came with a force unknown to you until now.
None of your toys, or previous partners, made your vision go white and your body clench so painfully.
And it was only on one finger and some clit rubbing, for God’ sake!
How braindead he’d turn you, if he fucked you with his cock?!
Your breath was ragged, colors and light slowly registering in your blurry vision as you re-opened your eyes. You were trembling, walls of your cunt fluttering around a single finger still locked inside. Your arms felt heavy and you loosened your grip on Ari’s shirt to lazily drape them around his shoulders.
Ari let go of your chin. His hand slipped into your hair, grabbing a fistful quite gently and holding your head in place as he kissed you.
Softly at first, treating your lips with tenderness matching the afterglow consuming your lax body. Then he amped the urgency, demanding you to give in to whatever he wanted.
As he licked over your bottom lip and slipped his tongue in your mouth, a second finger stretched your still pulsing cunt, making you keen into the kiss.
Ari moved his fingers this time. Increased his pace, despite your futile attempts to slow him down with the motion of your hips.
When his thumb pressed against your over-sensitive, engorged clit, you nearly wailed.
“Can’t-” you panted against Ari’s mouth. “Too much- Too-”
“Shush.” He bit your lower lip and began tracing rapid eights with his thumb. “Don’t. Fucking. Think. Just feel.”
Well, you felt like it hurt, but at the same time wasn’t enough. You felt like screaming, but at the same time breathless. You felt overwhelmed, but at the same time light.
You felt like you had no grip on reality. No coherent thoughts formed in your head, only scraps of your own sounds resonating in your ears. And the sound of Ari’s voice.
“That’s it, kitten.” He praised. “No overthinking, no stress. Just a good pet for her Master to use.”
The hand in your hair eased its grip on your locks and moved down your back. Ari wrapped an arm around you and tightened his hold, trapping you to his body as he pushed a third finger in and curled them in your pussy, scraping them against a sensitive spot inside.
He knew what he was doing, choosing to hold you in place, because the moment your cunt felt the burning stretch and his fingers pounded on that spot, your body tensed like a string.
You screamed this time, burying your face (and your sounds) in the crook of Ari’s neck as a crushing orgasm seemed to break and melt each bone in your body.
You bucked against him, though his hold was so strong you were unable to move much. Wave after wave of bliss rocked your body and Ari’s continuous thrusting seemed to prolong it even more.
Tiny tremors shook your body as you melted into Ari’s huge frame. When you were conscious and facing him, his size intimidated you. Now you found comfort in it.
Your face was still hidden in his shoulder, your head filled with nothing but buzzing and echo of your increased heart rate, as Ari’s quiet voice resounded through the haze in your empty head.
Something about bringing a box in.
He had to be talking to someone, but you didn’t register anyone entering the room. Then you felt his hand resting on your back again, which meant he took it away for a moment, but you were so out of it you didn’t even notice. It meant he probably used his phone.
A few minutes later you heard the polite, but loud knocking on the door. Ari allowed the person to enter and you tensed.
You were straddling his lap, your thighs spread and your body all sorts of wrecked. And Ari’s fingers were still deep in your dripping pussy. Quite possibly visible to whoever entered the room.
“Shh,” Ari murmured and patted the back of your head. “Don’t worry. You’re safe.”
You seriously doubted it, considering what kind of power you basically gave Mr Levinson on a silver plate just a few minutes ago.
But at least, it seemed he wouldn’t stretch it to someone else, or cause you any truly degrading humiliation. Well, not any more than he already has.
Besides, even if you wanted to shoot up in an outburst of outrage, your muscles were turned into jelly and the inner fire too dimmed from an intense orgasm-fest you were just given.
With an embarrassed squeak you buried your face deeper into the crook of Ari’s neck, to hide yourself from the stranger inside the room. Whoever it was didn’t say a word and less than a few heartbeats later you heard the door closing again.
Everything, beside the sensual music still spilling from the speakers, was quiet. Your breath slowly evened out.
Ari caressed your hair and back in lazy strokes, humming in pleasure as if he was petting a real kitty. You were a little offended at this sort of degradation, but it also felt so nice and comforting you didn’t exactly want it to end.
With a squelching sound, which made you shut your eyes in shame, Ari withdrew his fingers from your cunt. He left a wet print on your ass as he palmed it.
“Come on up, kitten.” He nudged you to sit upright.
The angle of your hips repositioning made your pulsing core press against his hardened dick. He managed not to groan, but you saw the spark in his eyes and the twitch in his jaw that spoke of the pleasurable tension he felt.
“Now, tell me-” he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and traced the shell of it with his finger- “Did you like it?”
Your gaze shifted from his face, from his incredibly piercing blue eyes. It dropped to his shoulder again, where you wanted to hide your face and pretend your body didn’t dance to the tune he played.
“Eyes on me.” Ari tapped your cheek with his fingers. “Did you like what I did to your sweet, hot pussy? Did you like being scared of what I may do?”
When you huffed and nodded, he tapped your cheek again. A little harder.
“Use your words, kitten. I want to hear it.”
“I liked it.” You gritted through your teeth, annoyed that he made you say it as much as getting hot all over by admitting it.
“Are you going to deny that you want me to do it again?” Ari smirked smugly.
“Are you going to deny that you want to be my good pet and get spoiled and have your brain fucked out?” His dark chuckle tickled your skin as Ari nosed along your jaw and neck.
“Mr Levinson…” Your voice wavered, as you tried to return to a more professional stance.
It was ridiculous, really. Trying to be professional and put some distance between the two of you while dripping all over his pants like a needy slut.
“Ari.” He kissed the corner of your mouth.
“It was hot to hear you call me Mr Levinson in your sweet voice.” He pulled away slightly and smiled. Not exactly a comforting smile, either. Rather one that meant trouble. “But I prefer you call my name. Especially when you scream it.”
“Or Master, since you’re my pretty pet.”
You didn’t think he was joking about the last part.
Ari leaned back in his seat, but kept you sat up straight in his lap, his hands tracing the lines of your body. He wasn’t groping, simply exploring and connecting.
“I’m serious, though.” His tone turned nearly business-like, but was less cold than you expected it to be when Ari laid down his law.
“I consider you mine. In every sense of the word. I knew you were going to be mine the moment I saw you writhe against the silks. So sensual. So unique. So fucking beautiful.”
“And then your eyes.” Ari’s own eyes glinted with awe as he held your gaze. “Unfocused. You were so far away with your thoughts. Not even thinking about a lover as you were dancing, were you? I desired nothing more, but to have your attention on me. I wanted you to focus on me so much that you stop thinking about anything else.”
His words stirred something hot and intriguing in you. A sort of thrill. No one has ever craved your attention. Hell, no one ever paid enough attention to you to notice when you were drifting away with your thoughts.
Then there was the word mine.
So possessive. Scary in itself.
The fact it was a claim of a mafia king should be terrifying. Should make you pack your things and run far, far away. It shouldn’t turn you on.
And you probably shouldn’t be craving more of it.
With men like him, they liked the challenge and the chase. Once that was sated they moved onto the new fascinating thing.
You licked your lips, sliding your hands from Ari’s shoulders and placing them on your own thighs.
“Are you done now?” You asked, tilting your head in a manner mimicking Ari’s. “You got all my focus, turned off my brain. Mission accomplished.”
“If I were done, I wouldn’t be demanding that you admit that you want me.” Now his tone did turn deeper, lower, a hint of a threat if you tried to escape him.
“I’m not done with you.”
You swallowed hard, suddenly fearing what more he could rip from you.
Ari reached his arm to the side, snatching up a box that laid next to him. You forgot about the mystery box completely.
It was rectangular and flat, with a velvet finish. When Ari opened it, your breath hitched in your lungs and a mixture of dread and excitement shot through you.
On a silky lining laid a choker made of a dozen delicate chains of white gold. It had a small, diamond encrusted golden ring in the middle, from which dropped two long, fine chains.
Not a choker. A collar, you realized.
A collar for a pretty pet. Expensive, subtle, easily camouflaged as jewelry - but a collar nonetheless.
“Um, shouldn’t this type of commitment happen much later?” Your heart pounded in your chest, your eyes glued to the shiny fate displayed in a jewelry box. “I never played like that, but don’t, uh, Masters give collars to their slaves- or pets later in the relationship?”
“Why should I wait when I already know that I’m keeping you forever?” Ari lifted the collar from the box and put it around your neck.
Your hand shot up, fingers wrapping around one of his wrists. He paused, but didn’t move away. Didn’t slap your hand away either. But he held your gaze. His blue eyes darkening, determination shining in his eyes unrelenting.
“What if I say no?” Your voice was barely above a whisper.
Ari didn’t move an inch. His face remained as stoic as seconds before. Something in his eyes seemed to soften for you. And here you were expecting a flash of anger at meeting any resistance.
“Then you say no.” He replied simply and his mouth quirked into a cheeky half-grin.
“And then I take other ways to convince you to say yes. I can do sweet romance. I can lavish you with surprises and gifts. I can buy out this whole club and have Hansen dance on a pole for you. If that’s what it takes for you to give in.”
“But-” he slowly licked his lips and looked at you from beneath his long eyelashes- “I think you want to say yes, so I can keep you on the edge of that thrill. You like to be scared and used. And that’s why you’re going to let me stake that claim right now.”
Your chest rose and fell with quickened breaths, but after a long moment you dropped your hand in defeat.
It was partially surrender, knowing Ari Levinson could trap you in even without your consent. However, he was mostly right. There was a part of you that was intrigued to follow into that darkness he lured you into; to see and experience the thrilling surprises and wicked pleasures he would design for you.
“Good girl.” Ari hummed in approval.
He locked the collar around your neck and gently ran a finger beneath it. Then he traced his hand down along the two long chains hanging from the diamond circle.
“These-” he took each chain in each of his hands- “can simply be locked around you, serving as a sort of necklace.”
And he showed you, doing exactly that - letting them fall between your breasts and then tying them around your waist, snapping two ends together.
“Or-” Ari’s fingers trailed along your forearms, until he reached your wrists and wrapped a hand around each. “They can be attached to cuffs.”
As hot as the idea was, you didn’t find it practical. The golden chains were so delicate that if you trashed in orgasm, or just generally writhed as Ari tormented you, they’d snap instantly.
Unless they were used only for presentation. As a mark of Ari’s ownership over you.
The idea of walking somewhere public, like just strolling into your classes, or a restaurant, wearing this collar and maybe even the cuffs which would look like bracelets to a clueless eye… it mortified you.
And accelerated your pulse in arousal.
“Wear it next time you dance for me.” Ari ran his fingers along the thin chains of the collar, then along your collarbones until he reached lacy straps of your top.
He pulled one of the straps down your shoulder. Then the other one. Then moved his fingers over the swell of your breasts and upward, along the line of two thin chains leading to a diamond encrusted ring in your collar.
“You’ll wear nothing but this when I split your tight pussy on my cock.” His tone was a molten, dark delight.
His face glowed with triumph when you whimpered at the image of being completely naked sans the ownership jewelry, sweaty and helpless as Ari fucked you into the mattress.
“With time, we’ll get you used to wearing it all the time.”
He clamped his fingers around the front of your neck. He didn’t actually put any pressure. Just the presence of his hand wrapped around your throat the same way a collar did. It made you realize instantly, that’s how it would feel to wear the collar.
It would be a constant reminder that you belonged to Ari.
“For now, just wear it for me when we meet.” You were actually grateful for the small steps, but remembering Ari’s earlier words you knew he’d have it his way in the end - even if he had to take things slowly with you.
“Okay.” You nodded, fidgeting with one of the chains around your waist. You felt hot all over. And kind of suffocated. “I can do that.”
The smile Ari flashed you in return almost made you instantly want to ask how else can you please him. It made all the hardness disappear from his face, crinkles appeared around his eyes and it felt like warmth filled your belly.
“I knew you’d be good for me, kitten.” Ari kissed you softly.
You started to really eagerly lean into the kiss when he broke it. He stood up, easily holding you up as he moved, then eased you down on your feet.
Fuck, but he really towered over you. Like a beast.
“I’ll drive you home.” Ari announced as he led you toward the door, hand on the small of your back. “When you come to the club on Friday, bring a bag with some overnight necessities. I have a meeting here, but then I’m taking you home for the weekend.”
“A whole weekend?” You nearly froze on the spot.
For some reason, a silly thought really, you imagined your interactions to be limited to your performances in the club only. Sure, you’d maybe wear his collar outside sometime, as a reminder to yourself that three nights a week you were bending to Ari Levinson’s whims.
He really scrambled some of your brain cells since you didn’t consider he was putting himself in your life fully. And pulling you into his life. Possibly, into a very intense life…
“Wha-” You cleared your throat, trying to sound less shaken. “Whatever for?”
“Hmm.” Ari leaned down, his hot breath fanning your ear as he purred: “To do scary things to you, the thought of which will keep you tense and wet for me.”
#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson x female reader#mafia!ari levinson#mob boss Ari levinson#Ari levinson x you#Ari levinson smut#chris evans smut#ari levinson fic#ari levinson imagine#my writing#sweet thrill
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mafia!ari leaving the club one night and spots you across the street. rosy cheeks, wet eyes and scraped knees. you’re sniffling as you collect the scattered contents of your purse. you don’t notice him until a large hand curls around your wrist, making you peer up and watch with your mouth hung open as the well-dressed, all too known, scary mafia boss helps you return your belongings to your purse and then lift a hand to brush the hair from your face and wipe a few stray tears.
“what happened here, sweet angel? is someone a little clumsy?” he asks teasingly, tutting and raising a brow before shaking his head. “need to be more careful, angel.”
“there’s— there’s a crack in the pavement, my heel caught it— and i- i fell,” you explain, showing him your now snapped heel. “m’not clumsy,” you defend.
ari chuckles, toothy grin and crinkled eyes, “let’s get you cleaned up back at my place, angel.” he offers out a hand, and you find yourself taking it without a single ounce of hesitation— either from fear or the ache between your legs.
idk what this is.
#lila writes#lila’s concepts#ari levinson#chris evans#feel free to add on#talk to me about it#let’s find out where it goes together#ari levinson x you#ari levinson x female reader#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson x y/n#ari levinson imagine#mafia!ari levinson x reader
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for the wip ask game....please tell me more about Lloyd Cinderella 👀 also Mafia Ari pleeeeeease
Molly, Molly, Molly...
I did tag you with my answer already for Lloyd Cinderella, so that leaves me free to just talk about Mafia Ari now!
So around a year and a half ago, I played around with plotting out this storyline for a mafia man who meets his reader very innocently in a coffee shop. She's reading, and he strikes up conversation over the book. You're a little bit hesitant to engage in discussion because you're busy reading, and who is bothering you, etc, BUT you're definitely caught off guard when the person you look up (and up because he's hulking) to see is talking to you is impossibly handsome, and then he seems genuinely interested in the answer to the question about your book.
So you do talk to him.
For quite a while.
You hit on some very interesting points in your conversation, forging a bit of a genuine connection.
He proposes that you to play hookie with him for the day from your job (English professor at the university), and you just know he's trouble, but he coaxes you into giving him just one day.
And he's so charming - but also seems so genuine - and his eyes are so piercing and nothing remotely like this ever happens to you...
And so you say yes.
The day unfolds in ways you do not expect in the least - and we do see that full day.
Basically day one of the rest of your life. 👀
Also, we'll see an appearance from this Ari in I'm Your Man.
THANKS FOR PLAYING, MOLLY!
wip ask game
#ari levinson#are levinson imagine#mafia au#ari levinson x reader#wip ask game#askpen#molly#aspen is writing
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Leo & Alpha masterlist
Summary: Ari & Leo are your protectors. One tall and strong. The other huge and hairy.
Pairing: Alpha(Mobster)!Ari Levinson x Omega/Wife!Reader
Warnings: a/b/o, fluff, protective alpha, smut, a/bo dynamics, mafia au
A/N: I can’t let them go so...we will get a few prequel / sequel drabbles
Current Timeline
Leo (1) 💕
Ari (2) 💦💕
___
Current Snippets
Ari & Leo (a Valentine’s snippet) 💕
Ari & Leo (a Father’s Day snippet) 💕
Ari & Leo (Sleepless Nights snippet) 💕
_____
Prequel Drabbles
Pussy pops
Sexy call
#mafia au#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson#alpha!ari levinson x omega!reader#alpha!ari levinson x you#mobster!ari levinson#ari levinson x you#a/b/o#Leo & Alpha masterlist
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Title: New Hire [6]
previous chapter
Pairing: Alpha!Mob!Ari Levinson x Naive!Omega!Reader
Summary: After escaping your demanding, violent father, you get your first job nannying for Ari Levinson.
Warnings: Manipulation, Spanking, Mob AU, Obsessive behavior, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Ari, Dubcon, Darkfic, Breeding, Smut, MINORS DNI, Dead dove: Do not eat
A/N: hello everyone! back from my little hiatus with a brand new chapter of New Hire. i’ve been getting soooo many asks about this series, i’m so stoked everyone’s enjoying it so far! this chapter’s a little long, and… smutty, so… drink water 🤣 divider by @firefly-graphics
This work is entirely unbeta’d, and unedited. Though I don’t own any of Marvel’s characters, this work and the plot contained inside are entirely mine. I do not consent for this work to be posted anywhere else by anyone but me. Enjoy 😘
You wake with Ari curled around your back, soft snores rumbling in his chest. It isn’t often that he’s not up before you, already waiting downstairs despite your best efforts to beat him there. His hand rests heavily on your hip, his fingers curled underneath the skimpy hem of your new pajamas. You shift, and his grip tightens instantly. Ari mumbles something in his sleep, and you giggle silently, trying hard not to wake him.
Turning in his arms is no easy feat but you manage, resting your palms against his chest. You’ve never really gotten to observe him at rest before; even relaxed Ari is at attention, ready to move to act if the situation were to suddenly require it. His golden hair is tousled, laying messily across his forehead. His lips are slightly parted, and you can hear the sound of his breath whispering though them.
He’s so handsome.
You know your mate is attractive—you’ve known it since you first laid eyes on him. But watching him like this, he seems, you don’t know, softer. Less hard lines and jagged edges. There’s an embarrassed sort of pride that rears its head at the thought that this man had chosen you, out of every other possible option.
You.
Before you realize what you’re doing, you’re tracing the curve of his cheek with the back of your hand. He stirs with a groan, his nose wrinkling.
“Mm, Kitten,” he mumbles, eyes opening to slits. “Wha’ time’ssit?” You giggle, and he lets out a sleepy, frustrated hmph.
“Early,” you answer quietly, laughing again when he groans, pulling you tighter to his chest and burying his face in your hair. Ari heaves a satisfied sigh. He’s comforted by having you so close, you can feel it in the bond.
“Go back to sleep,” he instructs sternly, and you laugh again. “S’too early.” The last few days had been hectic, Liam bouncing off the walls while Ari prepared for your surprise—and while you did your best to forget the sound of a man begging for his life. You feel guilty, mostly because you don’t feel as shameful and penitent as you probably should.
Every time the guilt begins to creep in, you remember Liam’s frightened face, and your own feral panic.
He deserved what he got, murmurs the dark, feral voice living in your hindbrain. Deserved it ten times over. Ari’s warm hands draw you out of your own head, the silky fabric of your new nightie bunching underneath his touch.
“Can hear you thinking from here, Omega,” he chastises you in a voice still gravelly from sleep. “You’re not sleeping.” Your cheeks heat so rapidly, you wonder if he can feel them smoldering against his chest. It’s not that you aren’t tired—you are. Your brain just hasn’t let you get a single moment of rest in since you’d found yourself awake just before sun-up. You just can’t stop turning the events of the last month over in your head, like you’re still trying to get a grip on them.
Something has happened to you in these past few weeks. Something that’s continuing to happen the longer you find yourself in the company of your mate. The slow but persistent eroding of beliefs you’d previously considered to be unshakeable. That right was right and wrong was wrong, and those lines couldn’t be confused or crossed. But now the lines are blurry and runny like paint, and it’s hard for you to tell which is which—if there was ever really a difference.
“Talk to me, Kitten.” You make a surprised noise in the back of your throat, twitching against him as you sink deeper into his warmth. His lips move gently against your temple. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Just… everything,” you say quietly, glad you don’t have to find a way to avoid Ari’s searching gaze, pressed against his chest as you are. “M-my father, and Peter, and…” You trail off, not wanting to mention Clarence’s head becoming red paste on the concrete outside.
“Mm.” Ari hums low in his throat. “Quill is… certainly a problem.” He rolls over onto his back. Ari scrubs a hand down over the scruff of his beard tiredly. You curl up against his side, resting a timid hand on the hard planes of his chest. You remember him the way he was on the playground; determined, stubborn.
“Do you think… he’ll stop now?” You ask hopefully, glancing up at Ari. He leans down to kiss your forehead once again.
“I don’t think so, Kitten.” You can tell he wants to lie, to reassure you that it’s over, but that he can’t quite bring himself to do so.
“Why?” Ari looks uncomfortable, like he doesn’t want to answer.
“Because men in our positions don’t like to give up something for nothing, Kitten.” You feel a cool shiver run down your spine at his words. “And for Quill, sweetheart, you represent quite an investment.”
You can’t stop thinking about it, even after Liam has roused the two of you from your nest of sheets and blankets.
An investment.
Was that all you had been to your father, too? An investment? Something to use to trade up at the most lucrative opportunity? It keeps you distracted all day, long after Ari leaves for work. You try to keep Liam occupied, but fail as he runs circles around you easily while you’re preoccupied.
“Um, can I go over Mary’s house?” He asks you as he wolfs down the peanut butter sandwich you made him for lunch. There’s peanut butter smeared across one of his round little cheeks as he looks up at you with imploring eyes. You raise an eyebrow at him.
“Oh? Am I not cool enough for you?” You ask jokingly, and Liam, ever serious, shakes his head. You’re about to ask him what exactly constitutes cool when your phone begins vibrating in your pocket. “Hello?”
“Kitten, are you busy?” Ari’s voice filters through the receiver.
“No,” you reply. “Well, only if you count getting a lesson in how uncool I am from a six year old.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah.” He chuckles at your response.
“I don’t suppose you could take a break from that to swing by the office with my work phone, could you sweetheart? I left it in the bedside table, that first drawer.”
“Oh, um, sure. I could do that.”
“Thanks, Kitten.” Ari’s satisfied purr makes a little shiver travel down your spine.
“I guess you get off light today, sir,” you say to Liam, stowing your cell back in your pocket. “You get to go to Mary’s while I run an errand for Dad.” You haven’t been to the office often, maybe once or twice in the months since you’d been hired—not counting your interview. Come to think of it, you know remarkably little about Ari’s business exploits and where his money comes from, despite how easily he wants you to spend it.
It doesn’t take much to get Liam ready to go. You instruct him to pick out two—and two only—of his favorite toys to bring with him while you head upstairs to look for Ari’s phone. It’s precisely where he said it was, in the first drawer in the bedside table. You pick it up gingerly, squeaking a little with surprise as the screen lights up at your touch. It’s locked, of course, but you can still see bits of messages, unchecked notifications.
You don’t mean to look—really, you don’t—but you can’t help it, your eyes drawn down by a new notification flashing across the screen. It’s a number you don’t recognize, and one Ari doesn’t have saved. Your breath catches in your tight throat as you read them, hot tears gathering in your wide eyes.
Unknown Number: It’s a good offer. You won’t receive better, not for an Omega that’s been…used.
Your heart pounds in your chest. What offer? The urge to curl in on yourself grows. Perhaps you are too much trouble after all, more than you’re worth, and Ari’s finally realized it. Your own father hadn’t seen you as anything more than a bargaining chip, and the realization that Ari might be the same makes the blood curdle into shards of sharp ice in your veins. Your stomach rolls as you re-read the message. Used. Is that what Ari thinks of you?
The phone vibrates again and you almost drop it, sniffling.
Unknown Number: I won’t wait long for an answer, you know, Levinson. And neither will Senator Ego.
“Are we going?” Liam’s irritated whine makes your head snap up, and you wipe furiously at your wet cheeks. You hope your smile is convincing as you nod at him, unable to speak. You don’t trust your voice not to tremble and crack, so you refrain from saying anything at all as you pack Liam’s bag with trembling hands. Ari wasn’t supposed to be like your father, he was supposed to be different, better.
Act like a whore, get treated like a whore, your father’s venomous words play on an endless loop in your skull, no matter how many times you try to stop it. It’s the same thing he’d said to you after you dragged yourself back to the trailer from the homecoming after-party you weren’t supposed to attend, your dress muddy from the dirt under the bleachers and Philip Baker’s spend drying on your thighs.
That’s what he’d called you in the driveway too—a whore. Is that what you are?
There’s bile, burning acid in your throat as you walk stiffly up the steps to Frank Adler’s house. House isn’t really the right word for it, somewhere between “home” and “mansion”. You pick nervously at your fingernails after ringing the bell, pulling at your nail-beds until you wince.
“Mr. Levinson, I’ve been expecting you,” Frank greets Liam as he opens the door. Liam giggles and hides behind your legs. “Mary says she’s ‘sourced the part’, and I hope it’s not something I need to be concerned about.” He raises an eyebrow. Liam shakes his head profusely.
“We’re building a secret clubhouse.” He whispers, and Frank nods knowingly. “Don’t tell Mary I told you.”
“I won’t. I promise I don’t go into my own backyard all that much.” He says resolutely, and motions for him to come inside. “How are you?” Frank shifts his gaze to you, and without Ari there to deflect, you’re uncomfortable with the attention. Maybe that’s why he wants to ditch you. Stupid. Naive—
“I’m fine.” The words come out stilted. “Just. Running an errand. For Ari.”
“Of course.” He looks down at Liam’s bag with a squint. “You packed heavy.”
You force a smile. “I like to be prepared.” Frank smiles back at you, and you swallow thickly.
“Of course.” He repeats it, and you look down at Liam.
“Have fun, bud.” He grins up at you in a way that makes your heart ache.
“Okay!”
Your hands are shaking as you get the keys back out of your pocket. Ari wants you to come to the office, but you have no intention of doing that. Hot tears gather in your eyes as you navigate out onto the street. You can’t stay parked at Frank’s, but you don’t want to go to Ari. It’s not even an option to go to your father—and you don’t know where he is, even if it was.
You drive aimlessly for half an hour before you decide on a direction, ignoring the incessant buzzing of both your phone and Ari’s in the glove compartment until you’re forced to shut them off. There’s a twinge of his concern in the bond, but you shut it down quickly, and immediately feel its absence.
The house you’re looking for is on the corner after the next left you take, and you pull haphazardly into the spot out front. You’re still crying, staccato breaths making your chest hurt as you lean your forehead against the steering wheel.
You don’t know why you remember this address, considering you’ve only been here one time. Sessions are normally at the old bank building, since converted into offices, but you’d been here once when the office flooded, and Dr. Nicholson was forced to accommodate you elsewhere. Even so, it stuck in the gray matter of your brain, and now here you were, months later.
Shifting nervously from foot to foot, you wrap your arms around your middle after knocking. You’re considering leaving, fleeing back to the car when the door opens.
“I-I’m sorry. I just, I didn’t know where to go.” Dr. Nicholson stares at you in open shock, before she pushes her square glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I’m—I know this was supposed to only be for emergencies, and I, I—” She places a warm hand on your shoulder.
“Please come in.”
—
Ari knows something is very wrong before Frank calls, but seeing his friend’s name appear on his personal phone drives home the worry.
“What’s wrong? Is it Liam?”
“No, no, he’s fine. He and Mary are building some kind of clubhouse outside, and as far as I know there’s no power tools involved. No, it’s your mate. She seemed… I dunno. Upset. Squirrelly.”
Ari’s fist clenches against the desk. “How long ago did you see her?”
“Ten. Fifteen minutes maybe.” He curses.
Ari reaches out through the bond, and he feels you shut him out quickly, tasting only an echo of your fear before the link is dead and cold.
“Thanks, Frank. I’ll check on her.” He’s up and out of his chair before he hangs up.
What spooked you? Obviously seeing him kill a man hadn’t done wonders for your relationship, but he had been making real progress. Martine is waiting outside the office doors, her fist poised to knock.
“Oh! Sir. I have—”
“Leave it on my desk, please,” Ari replies, cutting her off with a grim smile. “I have an urgent family matter to attend to.”
“I see. Yes, sir.”
Ari takes the stairs down to the parking lot, slamming the door too hard on his way into the stairwell. He’d told you about leaving without telling him, about going places alone, unprotected—no. It won’t do to get angry with you, that won’t help him find you. According to Frank, you’d dropped off Liam and left, hadn’t mentioned anything about where you were going or why.
He gets into the car, dialing your number while he slots the key into the ignition with his other hand. It goes straight to voicemail. You haven’t set it up yet, and the robotic default greets him stiltedly.
“The number you have dialed is not available. Please leave a message after the beep. Have a wonderful day.”
“Kitten it’s me, it’s Ari.” He lets out a heavy breath. “Sweetheart you’re scaring me. You didn’t come to the office, you’re shutting me out…” He trails off before carding his fingers through his hair. “I can’t fix it if I don’t know what’s wrong.” He hangs up, and is dialing again as he pulls out of his parking space. One hand grips the steering wheel hard enough to force the blood out of his knuckles, and the other holds the phone.
It doesn’t even ring this time before it goes straight to voicemail.
“The number you have dialed is not available—”
“Fuck!” He throws the phone into the passenger seat, hard. “Fuck.” He isn’t used to this, the frantic, nervous energy running through his veins, begging him to do something, anything—only he doesn’t know what to do. There are a thousand thousand scenarios, each running through Ari’s mind on their own terrible loop. Could Quill have had you picked up? Perhaps sent your father sniffing around again? He slams a fist against the dashboard. He’d felt your confusion, your upset and pain before you’d cut him out completely, and they stick in his throat, making it tight and uncomfortable.
He isn’t used to feeling this out of control, to not having the pieces adjusted on the board to his liking. Ari nervously fingers the silver chain peeking out from between the undone buttons at the collar of his shirt, poking the Star of David’s points into the fleshy pads of his fingers. Ari tries to calm down, breathing deeply as he pushes the unfamiliar feeling of panic down and away.
There’s still so much of your fear and uncertainty in the bond that it makes his chest ache. He sits there in the car, his eyes shut and hands on the steering wheel as Ari pokes at the bond again. The hard wall you’d drawn down between you was no longer quite as solid, the barest hint of your feelings trickling through the cracks. You’re safe—he exhales a sigh of relief. Not happy, but the turmoil you’d felt earlier had dissipated.
And then, suddenly, it’s like a lightbulb turning on in his head—Ari knows exactly where you are.
—
“You’re overwhelmed. And it makes sense, given everything you’ve told me.” Dr. Nicholson pats your knee with a reassuring smile. “I mean, last we spoke, you didn’t even have a boyfriend, and here you are with a mating mark, and a son, all at the same time. It can’t be easy.” You’d been on her couch for the last three hours, something of an extreme-emergency session to make up for the ones you’d missed in the weeks since your life had turned completely on its head. There had always been a reason to reschedule—Liam needed you, Ari needed you, something needed doing or finishing or starting, and you’d quickly become lost in the shuffle.
Your eyes are still red and puffy from the hysterical tears that had stopped an embarrassingly short time ago, around the first cup of tea Dr. Nicholson had brought for you—you were now well into your third. It’s embarassing, to be told what you’re feeling, but it’s so hard for you to pick through the maze of emotions you’d never really been allowed to acknowledge or share on your own. It makes sense now, to hear her say it. Overwhelmed. That’s exactly what you’d been feeling.
The knock at the door surprises both of you, and you jump, glancing nervously in the direction of the sound. Dr. Nicholson offers you a calm smile.
“I’ll get it. I’m sure it’s fine, you just stay here and relax.” You nod meekly, taking another sip of tea as you mull over your latest enlightenments.
“You’re a people pleaser. It’s okay, lots of us are. Because of the way you were required to manage your father’s emotions when you were only a child, and especially after your mother passed. You deserve to make choices for yourself. What do you want? What are your needs?”
You bite your lip, running your finger around the rim of the mug. You don’t know. Dimly, you’re aware of the sound of the front door opening, but that isn’t what jolts you to attention. It’s like electricity passes through the bond, forcing it all the way open as you gasp—
Ari is here. You know it as surely as you would know he was standing behind you. Goosebumps appear on your bare arms, and you rub them nervously as you listen to the sound of muffled voices with your heart in your throat. The sound of footsteps makes you jump up from your seat in the weathered old armchair. You’re not entirely sure what you want to do with your hands, so you tighten your grip on the handle of the mug until it hurts.
When Dr. Nicholson re-enters the room, her mouth is set into a grim line, tight at the corners.
“I… Well, I wanted to inform you that your mate is here,” she says, and you nod. She’s only confirming what you already know. “I know we talked about some very sensitive things, and I just wanted to make sure you know that you have agency, in your life and in your… relationship. You don’t have to do things just because someone else says you do.” She casts a rather reproachful look down the hallway.
“Thank you.” You scratch absently at the mark on your throat—it’s warm to the touch. “I’ll try to remember that.”
Ari is waiting for you on the porch, his arms folded over his broad chest as he leans against the bannister. His face is schooled into an expression of neutral calm, and if not for the tension coiling tight like a spring in the foundations of the bond, you might have believed it. Your gaze drops nervously down to your shoes as Ari stands up straight, his footfall heavy on the wooden slats as he approaches you.
“Kitten.” He slides a finger beneath your chin, tilting your head up. Slowly, he turns your head from side to side, his fingers trailing over his mark as he checks you over. You swallow thickly. “Are you hurt?” He asks, and you shake your head.
“N-no.”
He watches you in silence for a moment, before he turns sharply on his heel.
“Let’s go.”
You try to make yourself as small as possible as you walk back to the car, your shoulders hunched and your head down. You don’t want to draw any attention to yourself, not now when you can almost feel his fury as if it was your own. He ignores the Jeep you haphazardly parked out front, and you’re too anxious to ask him if he wants you to drive it home. Instead, you slide silently into the passenger seat of his car. You watch him make his way around to the driver’s side door as you anxiously twist your fingers together, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
You spend the majority of the ride in silence, sneaking furtive glances over at your quiet mate. When he pulls in to the driveway at the house, Ari cuts the engine, but doesn’t get out of the car.
“Why did you do that, Kitten?” He asks quietly, his hands still wrapped tightly around the steering wheel. When he does look at you, cold hard lead settles into the pit of your stomach.
“I thought…“ He trails off, scoffing, and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I thought something happened to you, that fucking Quill—!” He cards a hand through his hair and blows out a breath.
“I saw the texts.” You mumble quietly, staring at your knees as you clench your hands into angry, fearful fists of your own. “T-the offer you were considering.” The silence that reigns between you is so empty that you feel forced to fill it. “An Omega that’s been used.” You spit the words out angrily as you curl into yourself. “Is that what-what I am to you?”
“Oh, Kitten.” Ari scrubs a hand down his face. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”
“That seems to be a thing with you.” You clap a hand over your own mouth. Those were not the words you’d meant to say. Something soft and accommodating was supposed to come out, not…that.
“Watch it.” He snaps, narrowing his eyes at you. You’re afraid of incurring his anger, but there’s another emotion there too, one you don’t really let yourself feel as often as you should.
You’re angry.
“You watch it! You—you don’t tell me everything,” you argue. You can tell that Ari is as surprised by your persistence as you are. “Y-you keep secrets from me, and, and you expect me to just… do whatever you want be-because you say so, and—” You know you’re rambling, and Ari holds up a hand to silence you.
“Kitten if you think after everything I’ve done to keep you that I’m letting go now, I… I must not have shown you who I am as well as I thought I did.” Ari braces his arms against the steering wheel, and blows out a frustrated breath. “It’s true, I don’t tell you everything,” he admits. “You’re… you scare easy, Sweetheart. Look at today.”
Your cheeks grow hot. “If I had known what was going on, I wouldn’t have
left,” you say indignantly, and Ari scoffs.
“You can’t do that to me.” He levels you with a hard look. “You know you could have come to me, asked questions, instead of assuming.” You don’t have a response for that. “Kitten I was fucking terrified. I couldn’t find you, couldn’t feel you. I thought… I don’t know what I thought.” He shakes his head, and you swallow against the thick lump in your throat. You hadn’t thought, really, about what it might feel like for him to be shut out of the bond, left in the dark without a word. The bright flame of righteous anger burning in your chest dims.
“Quill could have picked you up, anything could have happened to you,” he chastises you. “I can’t protect you when you run from me, Kitten.” He slips a finger under your chin, forcing you to look at him. “How can I keep you safe if you don’t trust me?” The space behind your eyes burns with hot, unshed tears.
“Yes, one of Ego’s men contacted me.” He runs a hand through his hair. “But I needed to make sure I knew who our allies were before I responded, Kitten.”
You do trust Ari—or at least, you thought you did. You’d been scared, only thinking of your own self-preservation.
“I do trust you,” you say in a small voice. “I just…” you trail off, struggling to put words to the emotions swimming around in your skull. “My whole life, my parents told me I had one thing to offer. Just one. And when I saw those messages, Ari, they scared me, okay?” You admit, your teeth sinking into your lower lip. “They scared me because I thought he was right. That… that I gave you what you wanted, and you’d be done with me, now.”
“Kitten.” Ari ducks his head until he finds your gaze, and holds it. “I put a man in the dirt for you. Do you really think I’d trade you after that?” Hot guilt warms your face. “If there was even chance that I thought this,” Ari gestures between the two of you, “wasn’t going to work, I would never have marked you.”
Ari is a man of his word, you know that. Every promise he’s made you, he’s kept—it’s more than anyone else has ever given you. You… you care about Ari, enough to not want to hurt him. Enough to try and keep the promise you had made him, that you would let him show you how good life with him could be.
“I’m sorry.” You mean it.
“I know, Kitten.” Somehow, his disappointment is worse than his anger. Ari unbuckles his seatbelt, and tugs the keys out of the ignition. The two of you exit the car, and head into the quiet house. You’re not quite sure what to do with yourself, and you flutter just at the edges of the room, watching Ari move through it. The tension he feels is written in his neck and shoulders. He reaches up to rub stiffly at them with one hand while he opens the fridge with the other. You watch as he twists the cap off of a beer bottle.
“Liam’s going to stay at Frank’s tonight,” he says over his shoulder. “We’ll go get him tomorrow.” There’s only a counter between you, but it feels like a continent. He’s right here, and he hasn’t blocked you from the bond, but it feels like you’re alone. You approach him tentatively, and though he doesn’t stop you, he makes no move to welcome you, either.
“Ari?” He takes another sip from his beer. You place your hand softly on top of his on the counter, and he doesn’t pull away. “I—I should have trusted you, and I didn’t. I’m sorry.” You’re tempted to touch the mark on your throat but you don’t. His gaze softens just a little, and he takes another swallow.
“You mean that?”
You nod. “Yes.” Ari drains the bottle, and sets it on the counter with a sharp click. “I-I really am sorry—” Ari hushes you, holding up a hand. Your breath and the words you were going to say both catch in your throat. Ari grasps your chin, and for a moment he just looks at you. You feel judged, and you can only hope you don’t come up wanting.
“Get upstairs.” He says sharply after a moment of holding your gaze. His thumb passes over your parted lips. “You’re going to show me just how sorry you are, Omega.”
You gape at him for a moment, almost asking if he’s serious, but the hard set of your mate’s jaw tells you that question would not be well received. You scramble up the stairs, but Ari isn’t behind you. You pause at the top of the stairs, waiting for him to come around the curve, but you don’t see him. The setting sun has painted the room in molten orange. You perch yourself at the edge of the bed in a pool of it, fiddling with the delicate pendant at your throat.
When he does walk through the door, he barely spares you a look. He undoes his tie with sure fingers, and begins on the buttons of his shirt. You lick your lips nervously.
“Ari?” The look he fixes you with is icy enough to make you regret saying anything.
“I don’t remember telling you to speak.” There’s a cruel, almost mocking edge to his words that makes you shiver. Your mouth snaps shut audibly, and his lips curl into a cold smile. “Good girl.” He takes a painfully long time with the buttons, slowly undoing each one.
“Kitten you made me very angry today,” Ari says as he folds the shirt over his thick forearm. “Do you know why?” Your tongue feels like sandpaper against the roof of your mouth as you swallow dryly.
“I… I shut you out,” you say tentatively, and Ari inclines his head, like he’s imploring you to continue. “And I broke my promise.”
“That’s a start.” He lays the shirt neatly across the dresser. “What else?”
“I left without telling you?”
“Kitten you put yourself in danger.” Ari folds his arms across his chest and frowns at you. “Come.” It isn’t an Alpha command, but it doesn’t matter. Your body lurches into motion anyway. You stand in front of him nervously, and Ari fingers the hem of your shirt as his nose wrinkles.
“Take this off. All of it.” He watches you with dark, unreadable eyes. You’ve never seen Ari this angry with you before—naively, you had thought perhaps that he would never be. You’re still nervous to stand there in front of him, and you’re tempted again to speak, but you resist the urge.
It’s a strange and thrilling intersection, your fear of your mate’s reprisal and your body’s response to his need to exert dominance. You cock your head to the side, submissively exposing the side of your throat. Ari makes a low, appreciative noise, trailing his fingers across the healed mark at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. You still aren’t used to the wanton heat that is steadily growing at the apex of your thighs at the intensity of Ari’s scent, aren’t used to the wild, rampant need he inspires in you.
You know he can scent it, the way his nostrils twitch and his pupils dilate. There is almost as much being said without words as with them, you realize as you watch him. He’s not going to give you orders or instructions—he wants you to prove how sorry you are, to reaffirm that you’re his, that you want to be. He’s still angry, you can see it in the stiffness of his jaw, the square set of his shoulders. He’s waiting—waiting to see what you’ll do.
Ari doesn’t stop you when you reach for the button on his pants. You peek up at him through your lashes, waiting for reprisal that doesn’t come. The plush bedroom carpeting is soft under your knees when you drop to them, your mate silently watching as you pull his pants down his toned thighs. His cock is already half hard, the thick outline of it through his briefs makes your tongue dart out to wet your dry lips.
You trace the shape of him with your finger, and he throbs under your touch. As you slide the elastic band down, his cock bounces out, shiny precum beading at the tip. A soft, surprised breath escapes from between your lips, and your cheeks heat up with embarrassment when Ari laughs. He’s velvet smooth, veins throbbing hotly underneath the skin as you palm the heavy weight of his cock in your hands.
He hums with approval when you stroke him, straining to touch your thumb and forefinger around his girth. You lean forward, wetting your lips with your tongue before lapping tentatively at his head. Salty and musky but not unpleasant.
Ari is watching you, you don’t need to look to confirm it. You can feel his eyes on you as you lean forward to close your lips completely around the head of his cock. His hips buck softly, forcing him deeper into your mouth. Emboldened, you cup the heavy weight of his sac in one hand, kneading it gently between your fingers. He hisses, pulling away, and the head of his cock slips from between your lips with a soft pop. You sit primly on your knees, watching as your mate palms his cock with a groan.
“Open your mouth, Omega. Tongue out.” You do as he says, opening your mouth wide as your tongue lolls out over your bottom lip. Ari taps his cock against the flat of your tongue, thrusting into your open mouth. He makes a lusty, appreciative noise deep in his throat and strokes your jaw with the back of his hand.
“I wish you could see yourself, Kitten.” He says, pushing in until the head of his cock bumps the back of your throat. You gag around him a little and he curses under his breath, holding himself there for a second longer before pulling out. Your cunt clenches helplessly around nothing and tears gather in the corners of your eyes as Ari repeats the motion, sliding his cock back and forth over your tongue and down your throat.
There’s a growing buzz at the back of your skull, a pleasant hazy feeling that makes your eyelids droop as you nurse at Ari’s dick, tongue moving against his shaft. You tug softly at his balls, and Ari’s hips stutter, a low moan leaving his lips.
“Good, Kitten,” he praises you. The needy, feral thing in your hindbrain purrs excitedly. Alpha is pleased. “Need you just like this.” He thrusts all the way in until your nose bumps the trimmed hair at the base of his thick cock. Ari’s cock is halfway down your throat, drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth as you stare up at him with glassy, wet eyes. You struggle to breathe around him, short, shuddering breaths making your vision swim. Ari pulls out, stroking himself with an appreciative groan as he stares at your cock-drunk face.
“Bed.” You rush to obey, clamoring onto the mattress. “Present, for me, Kitten.” It sends a thrill through you, not to be able to see him as you press your forehead to the duvet, though you can feel him behind you. You shudder as he runs a finger down your soaked, messy slit, and he clucks his tongue at you. “Dripping,” he says, laughing. Embarrassment makes your face hot even as your cunt sucks at the tip of his index finger. “Enjoy sucking Alpha’s cock, Sweetheart?” When you don’t answer right away, he delivers a stinging slap that you hear before you feel, the cheek of your ass smarting.
“Y-yes!” He soothes the sting with a gentle pass of his hand before he delivers another one. You squirm, yelping as you press your face into the mattress.
“Do you know why this is happening, Omega?” He asks, the palm of his hand cracking across your ass again as you let out a miserable moan. Ari’s fingers slip between the cheeks of your ass, playing at your entrance as you try to cobble together an answer.
“I-I d-didn’t trust A-alpha,” you whimper. You’re wetter than ever, his fingers making lewd squelching sounds as they slide through your folds. Ari pulls back only to strike you again with another sharp slap.
“And?”
“A-and I—ah!” Ari’s palm connects again, and this time a sob leaks from between your trembling lips. The contrast between the thick fingers playing at your entrance and the stinging numbness is dizzying, and Ari doesn’t give you a chance to breathe, refusing to let up as he lays into you, hard.
“You made me worry about you,” he says, his voice low, angry. Another spank. “You shut me out.” Another, and another until you’re gasping for air, tears soaking into the sheets below you.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry Alpha!” You cry, voice muffled as you wait for another round of harsh spanks that don’t come. Instead, you feel Ari’s arms encircle your waist, and you hiccough as he draws you against his chest. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing your face into the hollow of his neck, sniffling.
“This doesn’t happen again, Omega,” he says sternly, even as he presses his face into your hair. “Understand?”
“Yes, Alpha,” you say meekly, lifting a trembling hand to wipe at your puffy cheeks. A low, pleased rumble emanates from his chest.
“Good.” Ari nudges your thighs apart with his hand, cupping your swollen, messy cunt against his palm. You mewl against his throat as he sinks two fingers into your wet heat, testing your readiness. You clench around them eagerly, and he chuckles. “My needy Omega,” he says. “You want me to split you open on my knot, don’t you Kitten?” You nod eagerly, and you can hear the smug grin in his voice. “Beg.”
You run your tongue across your dry lips. “Please, Alpha.”
“I can’t hear you.” You lean away from his neck, your face warm.
“Please—”
“Look at me.” Slowly, you drag your eyes up to his.
“Please, Alpha.” Ari says nothing, but you feel his grip tighten on your hips. It’s the only warning you get before he slams you down onto his cock. The words in your throat die in a ragged moan as his cock forces them out of you. The slight sting of his entry is more than made up for by the delicious fullness that makes you groan as he presses in as far as he possibly can, his teeth bared. Your thighs tighten around his hips, fingers digging into his shoulders as he ruts up into you.
“Kitten this fucking pussy,” he growls, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tugs your head to the side. “Can’t get enough.” You can already feel his knot swelling at the base of his cock, and the stretch of it makes your eyes roll. Warm, heady pleasure erodes most of your conscious thoughts, and Ari is driving it, pushing you further and further, as far as he can.
Your legs tremble and seize about his hips as you cum, sticky pleasure rolling down your nerve endings like honey as you float. Ari fucks you straight through, holding you tight enough to bruise as he buries himself inside you as far as he possibly can. His thick cock feels even thicker for the knot locking the two of you in place, and you shudder as his teeth slide into the mark at your neck.
He pants wetly against your throat, holding you still as the air cools between you. Ari traces patterns on your hip with his fingers, and you press a soft kiss to his collarbone. After a minute or two, he pulls back, his mouth leaving your throat.
“I really am sorry.” You say in a small voice, and he sighs, his arms tightening around you briefly before relaxing.
“I know, Kitten.” He sighs. “I shouldn’t have kept things from you.” You try hard not to look surprised. It isn’t often that your mate admits wrongdoing, and you know it isn’t easy for him to eat crow. “I’m going to try and be better about that.”
“I promise not to shut you out again.” You rest your head against his chest. “And you promise to be honest with me.”
“I promise.”
“Good.”
to be continued…
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Underneath the City Lights, Part 2
Summary: Ari has some questions and a plan
Pairings: Ari Levinson X Reader
Rating: explicit
Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, forced dancing, non con groping and sucking, choking, fingering, voyeurism, conspiracy, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 3.3K
Previous
Series Masterlist
*dividers created by @firefly-graphics
“Ari, what are you thinking?” Ari’s piercing blue eyes look out the window of his office, and over the city. The distant neon glow of the Dirty Martini clouding anything that he should be thinking. You had grown up, and it appeared that you were being used as a pawn by your own brother.
Your father had been a kind and just man. Ran a respectable establishment, and now it seemed the Dirty Martini was more seedy. Gossip of how it was just a cover for peddling more than just burlesque entertainment. The business in flesh wasn’t anything new, but would your brother actually offer up your own body for the right amount?
“Ari?” Jonathan asks again. His boss had become more and more distant with his thoughts. “You’re taking her claims seriously.”
“Why would a brother send his sister into my room where she was wearing fabric that left nothing to the imagination? Cameras pointed right at the chair I was sitting in to ‘protect her’ or was it to sell more than just her body? He didn’t care to have her fully exposed to me. And on display for whoever was watching.”
“Yes, the city knows you are the most fierce mafia boss since your great grandfather. The sight of your silhouette causes fear. He knows better than to let a video of you out of some woman’s cunt was soaking your pants.”
“I’m not worried about that video getting out. I’m worried about a brother selling his sister for the right price. Her grandfather was my father’s advisor. You realize that, right?” Ari shakes his head, still unbelieving of how your family had fallen so far. Your family was once feared, and now they were selling lust.
“She knows something. Look at their accounts. They’re passed due. They’re desperate. Why wouldn’t they try and take from the hand that feeds them? And fucking August Walker. Pig. How many dropped soliciting charges does he have? Calvin would sell his sister to make a buck, and get them out of debt with me. This is trouble for us. But she also needs protecting.”
“Well, you’ve been invited back again tonight. The diamond has a grand performance just for you. So says this August Walker.”
“I want the place surrounded. I won’t be moving tonight, but I’m going to see if I can get any information out of her. She’s an asset. And our teams can formulate the best way to get her out of the club undetected.”
“I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact she’s got a beautiful voice, and even prettier face? Judging by the state of your pants, and quick departure to the shower you thoroughly enjoyed your time with her,” Ari smirks, adjusting his jacket before he leaves without another word. He always was a softie for a damsel in distress. Especially ones he felt familial loyalty to.
“Hmm,” Calvin asks, studying the footage from last night. He had seen Ari intently watching you while you performed, but your private audience solidified his affections. Ari, the most feared man in the city, was entranced by you. He looks away from the screen when Ari’s mouth surrounds your nipple. It was an image he couldn’t get out of his head, but if it meant that Ari had a distraction, it would be okay. “What state was he in when he left?”
“You mean the huge hard on he couldn’t disguise with your sister’s juices spewed on his pants?”
“Can you not talk about my sister like that?”
“You’re the one that put her up on stage. The one who knew exactly what Ari would want. She’s got him wrapped around her little finger. Imagine, Ari the man we’re trying to take everything from, wrapped around the pinky of your baby sister,” August leans back in the chair, wondering just how long it would take to have Ari completely spent by you.
“A baby sister that I control. This is too good. Whatever you did that night, we need a repeat.”
“No. We need grander. Ari needs to feel possessive and jealous that other men are staring at her tits, vying for her attention, and willing to pay for her pussy.”
“And she needs to understand who is in control,” his hand rubs over his chin as he thinks. It was the perfect option for you to realize exactly where you stood in this operation. You were nothing. “Put up the cage. Make sure she remembers that she is but our little bird. She’s there for entertainment, and for everyone to gawk at. Women need to want to be her, and men need to want to sink into her and own her. And if her cunt can keep Ari occupied, and we make more money in the process, it’s exactly what we’ll do.”
“You’re a sick fuck you know that?” August stands, it was time to get you ready. He knew the perfect costume. The perfect way to show off your curves.
“Yeah, well, keep doing what you’re doing, and you’ll be able to feel her flesh around you.”
“Aye aye, captain,” he wipes off his mouth, heading to your dressing room where he could already hear you protesting. It was always the same. A little brat that needs to be punished for her stubbornness. In time. He would get to it. In time.
Slinging the door open you take one look at him before throwing a vase of fresh flowers towards his head, and he glowers at you. Wiping the water off his face before starting towards you, “Go away!” You scream, but he doesn’t react. He wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.
“Don’t touch me!” Grabbing at your wrist, he pulls you closer to his body. His free hand pulling aside your robe. Getting a peak at the swell of your chest, “You pig!” You spit up at him, and he wipes your saliva off his face as well. The hand around your wrist moving to your throat, and he backs you up to the wall.
A thick thigh going in between your thighs, “August, please, stop.”
“How quickly your tune changed, princess. So sure into groveling for mercy. What have we here?” He moves aside your robe, exposing one of your breasts, and pushes you further on his thigh. “Such a little girl and such a big attitude.”
“Let me go.”
“No, I don’t think I will. I enjoy the view too much. You want to act like you can pitch your little fits without consequences. You can be heard all throughout the backstage. Do you know why you have a private dressing room?” You shake your head no, and his glowing blue eyes finally look up at your face. “Privacy, princess. I could have you choking on my cock if I wanted to. Slam you down on the vanity while I rail into you, and you’re just a slobbering mess.”
“Then why don’t you?” His grip around your neck gets tighter, and you try and gulp, but he only forces a slow grind on him. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Because your untouched pussy is more valuable than one that’s been stretched out on my fat cock. You need to remember your place. You’re worth nothing more than the wet skin between your legs. You think you’re something special because you can sing, and you got the King to pay for an hour of your time. His first question was how many people have had you. All he wants is to split you open. Conquer you. You’re nothing. There’s nothing special about you, but these perky tits, and tight ass. Once you realize that you’re no more than a flashlight to these men, the better off you are. And stop with this fucking attitude,” he leans over giving your nipple a suck before grabbing the pumps out of his pocket. Cupping your tit as he gives your pebble peak a nibble.
“They need to be lubricated, don’t they? I believe we’re going to suck the life out of these pretty tits. Keep them hard the rest of the night. They did the trick though, didn’t they. I watched Ari unable to keep his mouth off them.”
“August,” Rita says firmly, walking into the dressing room. “I think it’s time for you to leave,” your lip trembles as he tightens the contraption on you, wincing when he twists it all the way, and you look down in horror at your nipple sucked into the cylinder, throbbing and swollen. He moves onto the other one, and Rita slaps a hand on your vanity.
“August, your master is calling you.”
“Shut up, you fucking bitch,” his voice mumbles around you nipple. Standing up straight and attaching the other clamp. “You know what the third one is for, princess? You gonna let me suck on that clit, too?”
“August!”
“What the fuck is your problem, Rita?” He finishes up on your skin, and his body spins around to look at her. “What? Ari already requested an hour-long private show. He liked what he saw.”
“And I’m sure Mr. Levinson would not like to hear about you tainting his companion. What costume is she wearing tonight?” Rita changes the subject to business. She was smart even if people assumed she was just your handler. Her eyes only flick once towards you, but it was long enough to see you were stunned quiet.
“The dove costume. She’s singing in the cage tonight. Just so she remembers her place. Make us proud. Maybe you can see if Ari’s dick really is that big. I’ll be watching,” smirking, he makes sure to hit Rita’s shoulder with his own. Slamming the door for good measure as he walks out of the room. He would have you. Once Ari was destroyed by you, August would make Ari watch him own your pussy, right before he was shot in the head.
“You know how to piss him off,” Rita says, stepping up to you. “What else did he do?”
“Nothing you didn’t see,” wiping at your tears, you look down at your chest, “God, I hate him. I hate this.”
“Play the game,” Rita straightens herself back up, looking at you, smiling when your breathing picks up in panic, “Play their game better than they do.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, you do. That’s why you're not fighting him. You’re playing their game, and you’re playing it better. You see the bigger picture. You’re smarter than either Calvin or August give you credit for. Ari is a good one to have on your side. And even you know this,” you turn around, not wanting to acknowledge anything she was saying. Playing dumb was becoming second nature to you.
“Good girl. You just may survive.”
“Rita, go get my costume for the night, and have Tonya come in here to do my makeup.”
“Of course. Dulce.”
Ari snorts, but leans closer towards the stage, watching you swing inside of a cage. Calvin wanted to pretend he was a genius, but this message was not subliminal as he thought. It was meant for him and you. Putting you in your rightful spot. Caged up, pretty, and singing for a crowd. Top completely exposed to everyone looking.
“They’re all watching her, boss,” Jonathan knew better than to stare too long at you. Ari never took kindly to sharing his play things.
“Put in my bid for her company. I do not care the cost,” Jonathan looks over at his boss, wondering what exactly had him so consumed in you. He was sure that it was more than just the information that you claimed to have. “Jonathan, I will have company with her tonight.”
“Of course,” he heads off to tell Calvin to name his price for you for the evening. Knowing that he would only take an hour of your time. But he would ensure that you would not entertain anyone else.
Ari’s eyes drift over your curves as you shimmy around. Other people would think that you were confident in this performance, but he knew better. Watching as you try to hold the microphone in a way to cover your bare chest, or even the amount of times you would turn around, showing only your feathered ass to the audience.
He didn’t care. He would have you alone soon enough. Away from these prying eyes, and men that were licking their lips and ready to devour you. He had to get you away from here, regardless if you had information or not. Your brother had brought you out to slaughter, and left you to be nothing more than a pile of flesh, rhinestones, and feathers.
The ache in Ari’s pants told him he was definitely attracted to you, but he would be more than just a hungry man. Unlike the men and women in here that are chomping at the bit for a tiny morsel of you, he wanted you to be able to be the little girl that couldn’t look people in the eyes when she talked. Now you were a dancing fool for money and pleasure. Business of the flesh would always be there, but you didn’t want it.
The other girls laughed, and giggled on stage. You kept looking off to the side at someone. Waiting for approval, and continuing on your number. Ari had questions, and when you were safe, he would get answers. Was it just Calvin controlling you? Or was there someone else you feared? And should those people lay a finger on you, they would be dealt with.
“Mr. Levinson,” Ari turns to look up at the gentleman that dared to take his attention away from you, “I’m August, I’ve come to take you to your private room.”
“And you can wait until she’s finished. I’m quite enjoying the show.”
“She’s nearly finished.”
“Then you won’t mind waiting. Are you in charge of her wardrobe?” August nods, smiling as Ari looks only at you. “Make sure her tits are covered. I’m the only one that gets to look at them.”
“Sir?”
“I will pay extra to make sure she’s properly dressed for my tastes. In the private room she can wear whatever she prefers, or nothing at all. On that stage I want her covered. Have I made myself clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And do me a favor, quit pumping her nipples up. They look bruised. Perhaps you’re using too much suction, August?” You bow, and your arms immediately cover your chest as Ari stands up. Proving just how much taller than August he was. Ari’s shoulders are much more broad. Ari didn’t know why, but he loathed this man.
“I…her nipples need to stay hard.”
“Her nipples will be covered up for all of these people, but me. I can make them plenty hard on my own. You may show me the way to the private room.”
“It’s our finest room, sir.”
“I’m sure it is,” buying his time. That’s all he was doing. Waiting for the proper moment to strike. No one would ever find you, and they would never make you feel like meat again.
“Ari,” you whisper, walking into the darkened room. He was already comfortable and sitting on a couch, his legs spread out wide when he lifts his finger, instructing you to spin around. Unlike August’s demands, you obey promptly.
“C’mere, and remove your robe,” you let the silk slide off your skin, and only a shelf bra, and barely there panties decorated your body. Sashaying your hips as you walk closer to him. You are much more confident with just him. He’s even able to catch a glimpse of your velvety and glistening folds as you go to straddle his lap. Whoever chose this outfit needed a raise.
Settling on his lap, his hands circle around your ass, pulling you flush to his crotch, and you lean forward, kissing along his neck as you start grinding on him, “They want to kill you,” you whisper into his ear, leaning back off his chest, and placing your hands on his knees, you continue your motions. Those panties exposing more and more of you.
Your swollen tits did look good in your bra, and they were beckoning him to grab them. Giving you a pinch, you wince, making him stop immediately. “You’re bruised.”
“He left me in those things too long, and they were too tight.”
“I knew it. I’ve got,” you shake your head no, looking up at the camera again. “What is it that you want?”
“Make him pay for earlier,” Ari could feel his blood boiling already. He didn’t know who he was, but he did something to you. “Put on a show for him. He’s watching.”
“August?” You give him a small nod, reaching to move your panties aside, you are drenched. Your body still rolling over top of him. One look up at him, and you nod, giving him permission to touch you. “I won’t do this if you’re not okay with it.”
“If I wasn’t okay with it, I wouldn’t have my pussy spread open for you. I want him to pay.”
“This is only a business agreement.”
“Exactly,” you agree, moaning when his finger slides up your slit. Giving your clit a roll between his finger and thumb, he pushes two fingers into your core, and you are no longer pretending when you whimper at how well he fills you up with only two thick fingers. Looking down to watch him pumping in and out of you.
“Son of a bitch!” August hits the table, and slides his chair away from the screens. “Fucking whore!”
“Isn’t that her job?” Rita laughs. It served him right. August and Calvin could play their little games with you and Ari, but they were idiots. Wanted to start selling you because of Ari’s interest, and then get pissed off when he enjoyed his merchandise.
August looks back at the screen as Ari spits down into your hole, his other hand grabbing at your tender nipple, and pulls. Making you move closer to him. “Fuck my fingers, and tell me what they’re planning.”
With your body hunching over him, you lean into his neck, and no one was any the wiser as to what you were doing. No one could see your mouth moving, or what you were saying. All they could see was you rising and falling onto his fingers. Viewing your legs quivering as your walls clench tight around him.
“Growl all you want to, August. He paid for ‘the flesh in between her legs’. Now how will you ever stack up to him?”
“You’re a bitch just like she is.”
“And she’s the product, isn’t she? That’s what you and Calvin wanted. I believe she’s doing her job well. Enjoying herself in the process,” August grits his teeth when your head tilts back on your shoulders, and you ride over Ari like a crazed woman. Tits bouncing in his face when he sucks on one of your hardened buds. “Don’t be jealous. You can’t sell sex, and get jealous when people enjoy your wares.”
“I’m not jealous.”
“Then quit getting hard.”
“Get out of here!” He yells, and Rita slowly backs away from him. He had an erection that needed to be tended to. He’s just thankful that all you were feeling was Ari’s fingers, and not something else. It was almost time.
Ari wipes at his beard as he gets into the car. Looking out in the city lights, “The house better be prepared. I need her out, and need myself to go missing. You’ll be in charge, but I’ll be the one driving. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” his assistant responds. Not making a comment about the state of Ari’s clothes, or the red bruises on his neck. Didn’t want to mention how Ari kept making excuses to have his hand near his mouth, or was constantly readjusting his pants. “What did you find out?”
“They want to overthrow me. Ahh,” he lets out an evil laugh, looking back at the Dirty Martini, “They’ve made an enemy of Dulce though. She wants blood.”
“She wants your dick.”
“And she can have it whenever she wants. But she’s much more valuable than that. Have a jet ready. We move tomorrow night.”
Next
Masterlist
Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @softsatnin @missusbarnes-rogers @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @buckysteveloki-me @whimsyplaty92 @elrw24 @sunshine-midnight-rain @lovsalpkin
#underneath the city lights#ari levinson#mafia au#mafia!ari levinson#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson x fem!reader#ari levinson x y/n#ari levinson x you#ari x dulce#ari levinson smut#chris evans#red sea diving resort#rsdr
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💐Zombie's Bouquet Event💐
As requested:Jakey or Ari; Idiots in Love; Mafia; Smut. Hope you enjoy!
+++++++
“Mmm, Essie,” Ari moans as he kisses you. “You shoulda told me how you felt ages ago. Shouldn't have taken a shoot out for you to tell me.”
“Yeah, well,” you gasp, your brain scrambling to come up with a response. “How was I suppose to know one of the biggest mob bosses in the city would want me?”
Ari growls at that and nips your shoulder. “How the hell could I not want you? So smart, so pretty.” He starts removing your clothes and kissing your exposed skin. “I was an idiot to not make you mine sooner.”
Your moans turn into whines as he continues to kiss and caress your body in ways that leave you speechless.
GAHHHH, ZOMBIE!!!!
I’M SCREECHING. I WAS NOT READY FOR THIS!!! 🫠🫠🫠
Ari took a shootout for me?? What happened?? My brain would be so dizzy!! 🥺🥺🥺keep throwing the compliments my way *whew*
Thank you so much for this *chefs kiss*
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Now that Bambi's been introduced to the family...
Find Bambi's intro HERE!
#Mafia AU#Bucky Barnes#Steve Rogers#Loki#Natasha Romanoff#ari levinson#Nick Fowler#joaquin torres#Thor#Mickey Henry#Steven Grant#marc spector#jake lockley#Sam Wilson#Andy Barber#valkyrie#Jake Jensen#wanda maximoff#Frank Castle#Maria Hill#Kraven the Hunter#Colin Shea#Max Sharper#Mob Rules AU
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