Summary: 11-year-old twins Brynn and Aliana are in for a very eventful summer break with their dad.
⚠️: divorce, brief mention of jail, insinuation of violence, v brief mention of intoxication, slight angst, bits of fluff mixed throughout
A/N: So, this is essentially gonna be like the Parent Trap just reimagined to something not as outlandish as parents separating their kids and not telling them about the other lol
Phase 1: So…what happened?
“Dad!,” both girls smile dropping their duffles and suitcases in the foyer with a loud thud before running towards their equally happy father. Even after all these years, he’s easily able to hoist each in one arm making laughs and giggles bounce off the neutral colored walls decorated with pictures of his ‘heart and soul’ as he fondly referred to the two.
You were honestly surprised to see your face up there a couple times. The older photo showing the both of you on your graduation day, cap in your hand and his thick arm around your shoulders as he kissed your temple especially has your lips curling into a small smile.
“How’re my girls?”
“Good!,” Aliana, the youngest by just seven minutes, giggles feeling the hairs of Ari’s beard against her cheek along with his lips before they move to her sister’s. “Brynn’s gotta boyfriend.”
“I do not! Ali does.”
“Nuh uh!”
“Okay how about no boyfriend talk from either of you until you’re 50. Or, better yet, I’m long gone in the dirt,” he states setting both down. When his eyes finally fall on you, it’s as if you’re back in that university cafeteria all over again. Looking over your notes with a last minute rush similar to the roadrunner hoping all the information you needed would stick before a tall distraction easy on the eyes with chestnut hair resting just below his ears took up the remainder of your time.
And then—like always when that feeling would come—you felt sad. Mournful even.
“Hey.”
“Hey Ari,” you smile fiddling with the strap of your purse.
“And here we go again,” Brynn mumbles only loud enough that her sister would hear. “We’re gonna put our bags in the room.”
“Need some help?,” both you and Ari ask at the same time secretly needing an excuse for a break from the tension.
“No we got it.”
They never really understood why their parents were like this. The obvious chemistry still there from the stolen glances and loving gleams in their eyes. Yet at the end of the day they went to their separate homes acting as if all that never happened. If they still liked each other, then why weren’t they together?
“So, how’s things at the shop?,” you ask following him to sit on the leather couch.
“Good! Well same as usual really. Mrs. Howell came in the other day asking about you and the girls.” She also might’ve mentioned how she wished you and Ari never divorced, but it was probably for the best that be left out.
“Yea, I’ve been meaning to go by the bakery so she could see them but I haven’t found the time. She always says how she’s got a slice of pie waiting with their names on it.”
“And we both know that ‘slice’ is gonna be a whole pie,” he adds making you both chuckle. “How’s the kitchen chef? Boss still down your neck?”
“Good, and no not anymore since someoneand his repair shop gang left such amazing reviews on the food. Not to mention nearly ripping his head off,” you smirk.
“He shouldn’t have messed with my girl.” The once playful mood noticeably shifts at his former term of endearment. Ari hadn’t called you that since the girls were infants, yet you could feel the burn to your cheeks as you gently cleared your throat to keep your emotions at bay.
“I’m sorry. It just slip-,”
“Ari it’s fine,” you brush off hoping he wouldn’t break through your carefree facade. “It’s uh getting late though, so I should probably go.”
“You’re leaving already ma?,” Aliana asks just before reaching the last step with Brynn close on her heels as usual. “Stay for dinner!”
“Yea! Dad’s letting us make our own pizzas, and then we’re gonna watch Zombie Masquerade!”
“I said maybeto the movie,” he adds. “Remember I uh said mom may not want you guys watching that so we had to ask first?”
“…but you suggested the movie dad,” Brynn states confused as to why he seemingly forgot how excited he was on the phone that night when he brought up the idea.
“Yea dad, you said how you wanted to see it at the movies but couldn’t so-,”
“Okay thanks girls,” Ari nervously chuckles trying to discreetly motion for them to stop talking.
“If you think they’ll be okay, then it’s fine with me,” you grin watching the pair excitedly bounce on the balls of their feet.
“You say that because I’m gonna be the one dealing with the bad dreams and late nights aren’t you?”
“Yep, and anything else that might come along,” you nod patting his protruding pec, which probably wasn’t the best idea on your part now missing the ridges and movements of his muscles under your fingers.
“Well…why not stay the night then? You know, to help out if the girls get scared?” With those addicting, soft baby blues looking down at you, it’s hard to say no. Who were you kidding, Ari’s general aura made it hard to say no.
It was exactly why you tried to keep your interactions short. Of course you were always cordial and friendly, but anything longer than an hour or two, and you knew your conscience would disappear, and maybe even your clothes too.
“It’d be like just like when we were little!,” Brynn smiles hugging Ari’s hips along with her sister.
“Yea! Cmon ma you know you wanna stay.” Although different colors, the three eerily similar sets of pleading eyes batting their long lashes causes a heavy sigh to pass your lips. Of course you wanted to spend the night, but was it the smartest choice?
“I’d love to, but I got a busy day tomorrow so I better head home.”
That’s not what they wanted to hear, but the pair understood letting their mom kiss their cheeks before giving her a final hug. As usual, Ari was there to walk you to the door embracing you in a hug as well that tended to last longer than one typically does. The bergamot and citrus of his cologne hitting your nostrils makes it even harder to let go.
“That offer’s always here you know. For dinner or spending the night if you want.” It’s an innocent statement, but the deep timbre of his voice vibrating through his chest and his lips at the top of your head still successfully make you weak in the knees. You can only nod peering up at your ex with a small smile suddenly unable to find your voice.
“Guess I’ll uh see you later then,” he says letting you go although every fiber and cell of his being protested.
“Call if you or the girls need anything.” With a single nod, he returns your small wave watching in remorse as you walk back to your car and your taillights grow smaller and smaller the further you drive down the road.
-
“Alright m’ladies, are you prepared for your evening among the royally undead?,” Ari dramatically asks donning a terribly fake British accent. The girls looked unimpressed pausing their conversation to deadpan their dork of a father.
“Hey, those were the movie voiceover guy’s words not mine.”
“Dad, what’s up with you and mom?,” Brynn outright questions crossing her arms in front of her chest. She never was one to beat around the bush.
“What do you mean?”
Patting the cushion in between them, both girls shift their bodies towards Ari as soon as his bottom touches the seat.
“For starters, you love each other..but you’re not together,” Aliana states holding out her index finger ready to count out their grievances.
“And I don’t know if you know this, but divorced people don’t love each other,” Brynn adds making Ari chuckle.
“And how do you know how divorced people act?”
“There’s kids at school with divorced parents dad. Plus Real Housewives.”
He can only shake his head as he laughs to himself at the things that come from their mouths.
“Well, I don’t know about those other parents, but I’ll always love your mom. She’s still my best friend, was my first serious relationship that truly showed me what love is. And not to mention she gave me my heart and soul,” he smiles taking turns pecking the tops of their heads.
“Then what happened? You love her and we know she still loves you,” Aliana asks peering up at her father with head of curls lying on his shoulder.
Truthfully he didn’t fully know that answer himself. At least not the root that eventually sprouted to your ultimate joint decision.
“Basically, I uh did something very dumb that I regret, which then led to me and your mom having a long conversation and deciding maybe it was best we weren’t together anymore.”
“Mhmm…does that mean you got drunk and kissed someone else?”
“What?! No, where’d you get that from?”
“Happened on Mansion Rules,” Brynn answers before grabbing a handful of popcorn. “Hillary deserved so much better than Todd.”
“Alright no more cable in your room, and remind me to call both your grandmothers to stop watching reality tv while babysitting,” he chuckles briefly tickling their sides making them giggle. “All you guys need to know is everything’s fine now, and I’ll never do it again.”
-
“And where am I supposed to go Y/N?!”
“I don’t know, maybe Frank’s since you’ve very recently shared a space before!,” you shout from the closet forcing more shirts and underwear in his duffle.
This was far from the “welcome home” Ari was expecting. Sure he knew he’d more than likely be met with your narrowed eyes and stern tone as you tried to figure out how this could happen. A small part even expected for you to just hug him and refuse to let go as you peppered kisses all over his face.
Clearly he was very off.
“I said I was sorry,” he sighs sitting on the edge of the bed. Not getting any sleep the night before, he wanted nothing more than to lie down comfortably in his own bed under his soft sheets. Preferably, with you beside him.
“But what was I gonna do? Just let him get jumped?”
“No, but try to be smart about it at least!”
Finally appearing before him, a thud echoes through the room as you drop his bag by his feet. Your eyes noticeably red and lashes wet from the brief contact they made with his before returning to the floor.
“That’s enough for about a week, maybe two. All that’s left is your toothbrush and whatever else you think you’ll need.”
There’s silence as he just peers at you and your thumb anxiously tapping against your upper arm while you hold yourself. Was this what you truly wanted?
“So that’s it? One mistake and I’m done?”
“We don’t have time for just one mistake Ari! Especially not one that puts you in jail,” you snap lifting your head. “We’re parents now. We have two little girls to think about, and the fact that you even put yourself in that situation shows me they’re not your first priority. That I’m not either.”
“You know that’s not true,” he lowly states, his own eyes beginning to water.
“No. Not anymore.” Both of you were silently crying now. Your respective sets of tears freely flowing down onto your cheeks and necks.
Yet neither of you moved to console the other. Fighting your urges to reach out ensuring that you’d be okay, and this was just a bump in the road for your relationship.
Wiping his eyes, he sniffs and clears his throat trying to collect himself. His gaze shifting to the clear sky and sunshine outside that definitely did not reflect the current mood inside the two-bedroom apartment. Did he so easily want to accept defeat? No, that was never in his nature. “You just don’t know when to quit do you?” His mother would grin shaking her head watching the little boy continue on, whether it was trying to perfect that three-pointer or reach that cookie jar she specifically told him to leave alone. It’s one of the many things you loved about him, but knew, just as his mother did, that it’d be his downfall at some point.
“Can I see them before I go?,” he quietly asks.
“They’re at my parents’. Won’t be back until tomorrow.”
Nodding his head, he slowly stands with a sigh bringing his bag to sling over his shoulder in the process. He’s hesitant lifting his thumb and index finger to your chin, but seeing you meet his eyes not pushing him away he leans down until your lips press together. Any other time it’d be agonizingly slow and one of you would’ve took the lead progressing things much further along. Now, it felt right. It fit the tone as you both needed one last time savoring each other. His beard prickling your skin. The way he’d always nip at your bottom lip before his tongue was appearing against your own.
Your always soft lips cushioning and soothing his own. The whimpers leaving your throat that hit him so deep he knew he wouldn’t be able to stand for long.
Foreheads resting against each other’s, you gently shake your head whispering “don’t” knowing exactly what he’d say next.
“You may not wanna hear it, but I love you. I-I love you, I love the girls, and I’ll never stop.”
-
“Pst…pst! Ali you awake?”
“No,” she sighs “I got the twin vibe something was up with you. Plus you kept moving and making the beads tap against the headboard.”
“Sorry.” Both girls shift to lie at the foot of their beds facing each other from opposite sides of the room. “I just keep thinking about mom and dad. I wonder what happened that was so bad it broke them up?”
“Dunno, but dad told us not to worry. Plus whatever happened they’re apparently over it now,” Ali states hugging her penguin stuffed animal.
“Yea that’s true. I…I just wish we could sit them in a room and get them to make up you know? Clearly there’s something still there.”
There’s silence as both girls just peer at the light carpet lining the floor. Aliana yawning as Brynn taps against her yellow, tropical themed sheets while the occasional car can be heard passing by outside. An idea soon comes to her mind though, quickly sitting up on her knees and startling her sister.
“Then again, what if we can?”
“Can what?”
“Get them back together!,” Brynn excitedly answers before covering her own mouth realizing she might’ve been a bit too loud. “What if we can get mom and dad back together? Make them realize they’re meant to be together.”
“And how would we do that?”
“…I have no idea, but we can figure it out.”
Biting her lip, she sits up with legs crossed under her and hugging her penguin close to her. “I dunno B, what if we make things worse? Or they really don’t want to be together anymore?”
“Then…we’ll deal with it. But I’d still rather try than not, and miss out on us all being a real family.”
“Weare a real family though.”
“You know what I mean Ali. Us being in one house rather than going back and forth,” Brynn smiles sliding out of bed to sit next to her sister. “So, you with me? I can’t do this without you.”
A beat of silence later, and she’s flashing a smile similar to the one in front of her before sticking out her hand to perform their secret handshake. “This summer just got a whole lot more interesting.”
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Summary: Ari has a surprise waiting on your special day
⚠️: pretty much all fluff, Ari being the sweetest husband, tiny insinuation of adult times towards the end
A/N: This is my submission into @sparkledfirecracker writing fest that hopefully encompasses the cheesy element you were looking for☺️ (if not I’m sorry and can definitely try to do something else!). I’m finally deciding to try to get over my fears and participate in more challenges, so hopefully you guys like what I came up with!
“Alright, I’m calling you right before opening the door as you so randomly asked.”
“I know it’s weird, but it’ll be worth it I promise,” he smiles. “Now go see Ella first. She’s been helping me with all this.”
Doing as you’re told with the phone pressed against your ear, you lightly knock on your neighbor’s door still trying to figure out what your husband could possibly be up to.
“Ari what all do you have planned? And what’s this for?”
“You’ll see, just be patient gorgeous.” Ella’s usual cheery features soon appear as she opens the door holding a bag of groceries in one hand and small basket in the other. Even her little girl, Bea, seems to be helping out as she holds a small, purple flower vase filled with a low cut arrangement close to her chest.
“Happy Anniversary!”
“Appy Verse Airy!,” Bea adds with a toothy grin as she bounces on the balls of her feet.
“Aw thank you so much guys!,” you smile reaching out to take the items from their respective arms.
“Aht! Ari gave us very specific instructions to help you get these in the apartment, so if you wouldn’t mind opening your door please.”
“And tank you!,” Bea adds. She really might be the most adorable kid you’ve ever met.
“Well, can’t go against Ari now can we?,” you grin hearing his chuckle on the other line while leading them across the hall.
With a quick goodbye and a wish for you, and Ari, to have a good night, Ella and Bea are gone just as fast as they came leaving you alone in your cozy apartment. “Ari?”
“Hmm?”
“Our anniversary is in January. What’s this?”
“True it’s not our wedding anniversary, but it’s something just as important…the day we first met.” Sure enough, looking through the grocery bag you find a bottled pineapple daiquiri and a pack of Heineken instantly taking you back to that bar all those years ago.
“I know it’s probably corny, but it’s a day I’ll never forget and wanted to treat you to something special,” he explains nervously rubbing the back of his neck. What if you thought it was too much, and he should’ve just left things alone?
“No it’s sweet, thank you. And how could I forget? That’s also the day you stopped me from making the worst decision of my life,” you giggle taking a moment to sniff the colorful bouquet on the counter in front of you.
-
There’s collective groans from those at the bar watching yet another missed goal attempt from the Bruins’ center. Ari was sure this was somehow his karma for betting on a game with money he didn’t have. He just knew his team would win though; even the analysts from the pre-game show were sure.
But that ten percent chance at a loss was biting him in the butt right now.
“Looks like they’re cursed tonight,” the older man at the end of the bar with his Guinness sighs taking a drink.
“Cursed or still drunk from the night before,” the bartender chuckles along with the other men.
“At least it’s just the second period. And we’re tied at zero so we still got a chance,” Ari speaks.
“Always seeing the glass half full,” his friend and fellow trucker, Nick, states holding up his glass signaling for another round.
“Makes life a little better when you do.”
“Yea, but I’m a little surprised seeing how you got $200 riding on this game. Expected you to be the first one crying in the corner if I can be honest.”
“Call me crazy, but I gotta hunch everything’s gonna be fine.”
Just as the commentators announce a commercial break, the bell of the front door chimes followed by the apprehensive clicks of heels across the hardwood. From the corner of Ari’s eye as he tilts his head back to take a swig of his beer, he catches curious eyes searching around the bar and head of dark curls swiftly going back and forth.
Just in a simple burnt orange tank, covered by a dark grey sweater, and ripped jeans cuffed at your ankles stopping right at the small buckle of your strappy, black heels, you took Ari’s breath away. If you stepped outside right now, he was sure you’d stop traffic and cause a couple accidents as well.
Your eyes met briefly making the beefy trucker softly smile and feel giddy at your own beautifully curled lips. That was sadly short lived though, as you walked past to the man coming from the restroom equally as excited to see you from the tight hug and kiss he placed on your cheek.
The loud cheers of those around startle him back to the game seeing Bruins players and those in the stands cheering after their one goal.
“Ya see that?! Guy went between the legs, dodged a Pens player to score the goal,” Nick smiles excitedly clapping his friend’s shoulder and giving it a slight shake.
“Um n-no I missed it,” he answers. His intense blues peeking at the table about eight feet away one more time before his attention goes back to the players gliding on the ice. Being the nosey friend he is, Nick followed Ari’s gaze to see the couple talking and occasionally laughing with their hands intertwined on the table.
“You know them?”
“Nah I just saw her walk in and-,”
“Ah..say no more,” Nick nods drinking from the tall glass. “She is cute though.”
“Yea, but unfortunately he got to her first,” Ari sighs finishing his drink. Time passes and the bar fills with a few more people looking to catch the end of the game or to get a few drinks after a long day. Every so often, his eyes drift to your table wishing he was the one on the receiving end of your soft giggle. The one who could feel your fingers graze against his arm making goosebumps appear in their path.
“I’m gonna go to the restroom really quick. Can you get me a refill please?,” he hears you ask your date before drifting off towards the back.
God, even your voice was heavenly.
It was like clockwork how fast the door slammed open as soon as you disappeared. The angry blonde not searching long before seeing her target at the table by himself.
“Working late huh?,” she asks with arms crossed across her chest. Whether they wanted it or not, they now had the attention of the whole bar curious as to what would happen next.
“I-I was! I just finished maybe half an hour ago and decided to stop by for a drink,” the model-esque CEO answers. The glistening sweat on his brow can be seen from all the way across the bar.
“Mhm. And who’s purse is that? A ‘friend’ from work?”
“Noo, this lady went to the bathroom but didn’t need to take her purse so she asked if I could watch it for her.”
Oh this guy was something else.
“Look, I know you’re upset and you have every right to be. I should’ve just come straight home and had a drink with my girl, especially when I know all she’s been wanting is to spend some time with me.”
That seemed to butter her up enough from her features relaxing into a smile before standing on her tip toes to peck his lips.
“I thought you didn’t care.”
“Of course I do sweetheart. In fact, why don’t we stop by the mall to get that Chanel you’ve been hinting at?,” he smirks leading the woman towards the door.
“They’re still open?!”
“Yea but not for long so we gotta hurry,” he winks tapping her on the bottom as they exit the building leaving everyone except Ari unbothered.
“Poor girl,” he thought to himself. Soon you’d come out to an empty table definitely confused at why your seemingly great date decided to up and leave. And poor random blonde lady, who didn’t deserve to be bought as a distraction from her boyfriend/husband’s cheating ways.
“Um excuse me?,” he hears interrupting his thoughts as he turns around. Your nervous smile makes his heart melt although you definitely couldn’t tell. “I’m sorry to bother you, but do you by chance know where the guy at that table went? He was about ye tall, in a button up?”
Should he tell you the truth? No doubt breaking your heart and ruining your evening? Or try to make up something as a cover to not get involved? Either way, he’d go home feeling terrible.
Sighing as he passes a hand through the chestnut strands on his head, he turns in his seat so you’d have his full attention. Not that you didn’t have it already.
“This isn’t easy to say, but he left…with another woman. Some blonde who he definitely didn’t just meet if you uh catch my drift.”
The small gape of your full lips and your disappointed “oh” nearly has him wanting to find whoever that guy was himself.
“Last time I use a dating app,” you half-heartedly chuckle to yourself. Shaking your head as you try not to cry frustrated tears in the middle of a bar in front of this brawny man and his friends. “Thanks for letting me know. Have a good night.”
He didn’t know you, but he wished there was something he could do.
Collecting your purse and sweater, you return to the bar feeling like a child standing next to the giant men who were tall even sitting on their barstools. “Hey, um the guy that was over there? Did he already pay?,” you ask finally catching the bartender before he could get someone else’s order.
“Nope, just left without so much as a see ya.”
“Why am I not surprised,” you mumble to yourself searching for your wallet.
“Don’t worry about it,” Ari states shifting in his seat to retrieve his own out of his back pocket.
“What? No, I can’t let you do that.”
“Too late. Tommie, put it on my tab please.”
“Well thanks,” you smile. “That’s really nice of you.”
“S’nothing. Just look at it as my way of trying to make up for a crappy evening,” he shrugs with a tilted smile so powerful you could feel it’s effect down to your toes.
“And down the line when I tell this story of my worst date turned good, I should refer to my hero as?”
“Ari, Ari Levinson,” he answers sticking out his much larger, slick with moisture hand for you to shake. Both of you freezing at the droplets of water touching against your respective skin. “I promise it’s water from the bottle, not sweat.” For someone who looked so intimidating, you couldn’t help but feel as though he had a huge teddy bear hidden behind that thick wall of muscle.
“It’s okay. Y/F/N Y/L/N.”
Another round of cheers erupts in the dimly lit room as the alarm from the lamp signals another goal from the Bruins now giving them a two-nothing lead. And distracting Ari long enough for him to miss you writing on one of your business cards.
“It was nice meeting you Ari!,” you shout over the many voices sliding the white paper near his hand.
‘Same time next weekend?’ Your neat handwriting read making his bearded cheeks heat and no doubt shift to a reddish color. Dread immediately overshadowed his excitement though, remembering his job and free weekends from here on out would be far and few. His mouth was set to explain he couldn’t make it, but you were gone. Only the light ringing of the front bell was left in your wake.
“Man you better thank your lucky stars, for a second-,” Nicky starts, but turns to watch his friend rush out the door looking both ways before finding whatever it was and jogging to the right. “Huh, looks like everything’s gonna be alright for you after all Levinson.”
His thick stature helps him along the concrete sidewalk from those moving out of his way, not wanting to run into, and possibly anger, him. Eventually, he passes enough yellow streetlights to get close enough where you could hear him call your name.
“Hey, did I forget something?”
“No I uh, I got your note, but next weekend isn’t the best for me,” he explains catching his breath.
“Oh, that’s okay! Just text me a time that’s good for you.”
“See that’s the thing…I don’t know when there’s gonna be a good time for me.” Your furrowed brows and slight head tilt causes his nerves to grow not sure how you’ll take his news. “I’m a truck driver…a-and my schedule right now can have me gone weeks at a time. Not that it’s always like that though! It’s uh just for the time being.”
Now this could go a few ways. Most popular from his experiences lately, was a laugh in the face how that’s not much of a real job. Or immediately declining any chance of a date happening since he wasn’t in a certain tax bracket. More specifically, a rich tax bracket.
Plus trucker’s didn’t really have the best reputation thanks to those horror movies.
“Oh….well…I guess dinner is out of the question then.”
Slowly nodding his head before his gaze stays glued to the ground below with hands deep in his pockets, he can’t say he’s surprised by your response. In fact, he knew you deserved more.
Someone who could give you more whether that be material things or their time.
“Physically that is.”
Using his fingers to comb his hair out of his face, his own adorably furrowed eyebrows leave you smitten already. “Come again?”
“There’s always FaceTime? Or Skype if that’s not good for you?”
“No! No, FaceTime definitely works.”
“Alright, then it’s a date?”
“It’s a date,” you both smile hopeful for what could come next.
-
Searching through the basket, a delightful grin graces your lips finding everything you’d need for a relaxing night in. A couple of your favorite scented bath bombs and salts, bubble bath liquid along with the adjoining lotion sure to have everyone on the floor smelling you, and even a pair of new baby blue pajamas.
You can definitely tell Ari picked them out from the nearly see-through material and lace on the matching tank top and shorts.
“Aww honey, you shouldn’t have.”
“I wanted to.” You can hear the wind rush past his ear as he walks outside. “Oh, and food should be there in five, 10 minutes.” He truly is a treasure that man.
“If we weren’t already married I swear I’d be over there down on one knee,” you state making a hearty laugh escape his lips.
“I’m glad you love your surprise gorgeous. Now go take a bath and spend the rest of the night not thinking about work. That beautiful brain and body deserves rest.” The scrape of a chair scooting against the floor along with small chattering tell you he’s more than likely at a diner. It’s where he usually liked to stop when he was hungry and had the time.
“Okay okay, I’ll go after the food comes,” you smile settling against the pillows of your couch. “What’re you getting?”
“Don’t know yet,” he sighs scanning the plastic menu in his hands. “Part of me wants just a regular burger and fries then the other wants something different. Wanna help me pick?”
“Sure, then after maybe you could help me with something?”
“Of course, what’s up?”
“Nothing,” you answer suddenly shy as you twirl the tie of your pants around your finger. “I was just thinking after you’re done and I’m in the tub…you could um help me relax even more.” You’d think as long as you’ve been together, and as many times you’ve partaken in this type of “quality time”, it’d be easier to come out and say.
All you can hear from the other end is rustling with shouts of “hey” and “you can’t be back here” before Ari repeatedly says sorry as he moves about.
“A-Ari?”
“Yea I’m still here sweetheart, hold on,” he states before placing the phone to his chest. “Hey Lucille, I got an emergency to take care of but can you get a number four ready for me? Yea just give me a call when it’s ready, I’ll come pick it up.”
It takes everything in you trying to hold in your laughs from his “oof” followed by another sorry. The wind rushes by once more as he jogs along the dark asphalt to the cab hidden within the waiting truck. Soon the undeniable thud of the driver side door closing, and click of the cab’s, fills your ears instinctively making you bite your lip in anticipation for what was to come.
“Alright gorgeous you helped me, now it’s only right I return the favor.”
If anybody wants to be tagged, has asked to be tagged but don’t see your name, only wants to be tagged for certain people I write for (can be found in masterlist), or no longer wish to be tagged just let me know! Also if you’d rather opt to turn on notifications for my page that’s fine too!
| Trailer Park!Ari Levinson x inexperienced!reader (2000s Trailer Park AU)
|trailer park neighbours-to-lovers, meet-cute, fluff, AGE GAP, dilf bartender!Ari, Ari Levinson x OCs, reader x OCs (mentioned), innocent!reader, cigarette use, alcohol, 6’7” Ari, beefy hunk!Ari, soft!Ari, dom!Ari, flirting, nicknames, size difference, sugar daddy!Ari, rockstar!Ari, drunk!Natasha is funny, SMUT - minors DNI, accidental voyeurism: protected sex (p in v), dirty talk, daddy kink, degradation, dumbification, spitting, ends with second hand embarrassment (maybe)
| The sun of ‘06 is brutal this summer, especially in Flamingo Trailer Park, the land of big hearts and cheap tricks, you’ve been here for years unlike your “new” neighbour, Ari. He’s older, bigger, and intimidating, the local rockstar, and you, well, aren’t you just the sweetest girl in the whole-damn city?
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/ | 4.67K
/ | and he has arrived !! Yes, there’s cellphones in this “80s” fic, it’s more of a cross between 80s/90s vibes. Get ready for carefree trailer park shenanigans, everyone here is vulgar (except reader) and ofc, major thank you to everyone who sent asks, you’ve all helped me write this fic !! All mistakes are my own. ☼ - ☼
It must be following me, you think to yourself and move once again as the sun beams down brutally. You shift to the side, pressing yourself against the filling station, the blueberry popsicle falling victim to the summer heat in your hand.
Old Ricky’s is one of the many gas stations in the area, but it’s the closest to Flamingo Trailer Park which made it the perfect temporary job, temporary because you doubt you’ll be here next month.
It’s far better than the last one you worked at—Mary Jane’s had broken windows, a busted air conditioner, and smelt an awful lot like stale coffee. The reputation wasn’t the best either, plenty of the high school kids would steal like it was nothing, and Mrs. Jane didn’t bat an eye.
You often felt out of place in that dingy station, at least Old Ricky’s was clean, had a television and radio, and a fully functioning air conditioner. Mr. Ricky was a kind man, he didn’t tolerate stealing or even cursing, “I deal with enough of that foul-mouthed attitude at home, don’t need it here too, honeypie.”
Your heart breaks a little as the blue treat drips down the stick to your hand. Mr. Ricky let you have all the popsicles you wanted, as long as you kept yourself clean and presentable for the customers. At this time of day when the sun is at its highest, the station was drier than a desert, but you didn’t favour sticky hands while working. You feel around your denim shorts for a napkin, but come up empty.
Tires roll on the concrete, and after a quick peek over your shoulder, you spot a big red Chevrolet truck with thick white stripes on the sides. It’s tall, at least two—maybe more—feet off the ground with rolled-down windows and music blaring from the speakers.
You fumble with your popsicle, trying to finish it while not making a mess, god, and you really need a napkin.
The truck stops a few ways away, the door opens and closes as you put your heart-shaped sunglasses over your eyes.
“You sell smokes in there?”
You whip around, eyes wide with the cold popsicle between your lips, “Yes, s’hir.” You answer, mouth still full of the sugary treat as a few drops escape from the corners of your lips. “All kinds—I don’t know what you prefer, but I bet Mr. Ricky’s got it!”
He’s tall, seemingly perfect for his vehicle with his broad shoulders and built stature. His peach flannel is unbuttoned all the way, exposing an off-white tank top and the shiny buckle of his belt. The clean leather is looped in his blue jeans that outline his muscled thighs all the way down to his brown boots.
He seems a smidge familiar, perhaps you’ve seen him down at the Flamingo. And right now, those clothes do nothing to hide what’s underneath, he’s big, thick, and burly, you know that much and are a little ashamed as your mind teeters on the edge of the gutter.
He could probably crush you like a bug.
Your eyes flicker back up to his, and he’s already staring at you. His clear blue eyes trail over your face, and down your sweaty neck.
His dark eyebrows are furrowed from the bright sunshine, and a beard covers half his face but that doesn’t conceal any of his strong, handsome features. Thick eyelashes frame his cerulean eyes, brushing his cheekbones that are only defined by the brown facial hair, complementing his plump pink lips in a way that makes your knees a little weak.
You don’t realize the popsicle has melted down your face until he holds out a napkin.
“You’re making a mess, sugar.”
When he steps closer, your throat tightens. He’s very, very tall, you have to crane your neck to meet his gaze.
“What’s your name?”
It’s only three words but his voice strums you just right—deep, creamy and confident, with a twang of an accent you can’t identify.
“P-Pardon?” You manage,
The man chuckles, his big hand hooks in his belt loops as he cocks his hip, “I asked for your name, sweetheart.”
He drops the ‘r’ when he speaks, and admittedly, it’s got you swooning. Your eyes flicker to the waist of his jeans where the denim meets his tanned skin, but you quickly look away as the hem slips a little further down. This man carries himself with nothing less than self-assurance.
The air starts feeling a little hotter, and you suspect it isn’t because of the sun.
You introduce yourself, nervously wiping your chin with the napkin. The white fabric of your shirt is stretched and worn from the blistering heat, and already stained with the last popsicles you had.
The man runs a hand through his shoulder-length hair, licking his lips. “C’mon, kitty cat, fill ‘er up for me, half a tank.”
He leans on his truck, lighting a cigarette as you pump the gas. The humid wind brushes along your slick skin, and you plead for it to take away those lingering nerves, but alas, those stupid shys—as Natasha calls them—are stuck to you like glue.
You can feel his eyes on you, mapping out your features like a fleeting traveller. The last exhale of his cigarette is followed by a low sigh, “I haven’t seen you around here before.”
You finish up pumping the gas and step back to the filling station, “I, uh, usually work closer to downtown.”
He nods and holds out a wad of bills between his ring-clad fingers. His shiny watch catches the light, it doesn’t look like the cheap ones people have tried to sell you, but it does resemble the ones from the pawn shop you used to work at.
“Oh, sir, this is too much—”
“The rest is for you, and it’d be real impolite to deny a gift.”
Clutching the cash to your chest, you peer at the station where Mr. Ricky was asleep at the checkout, work boots kicked up on the counter with his baseball cap pulled low over his wrinkled face. “Thank you, sir.”
“You can call me Ari.” He says easily, “Are you going inside any time soon?”
You shake your head, “Mr. Ricky is gonna call me for my break.”
His blue eyes fall on the station before he starts walking away, his heavy feet thumping on the ground, “Do you like cherries?” He calls over his shoulder.
“Um, yes?” You shout, fingers knotted in front of you, “wait, why—” but it’s too late, the bell dings before the glass door shuts.
You’re tending to another customer when Ari returns. As you half-listen to the older lady curse the blazing weather, he nods at you, setting a colourful little packet and a large plastic cup on that wooden bench by the newspaper stand. The woman is talking your ear off, as he hops into his truck, barely struggling with the height off the ground.
His eyes land on yours before he waves, the ghost of a smile blooming on his pink lips.
“Oh, sweetie, don’t trust a man who drives a Chevy.” The older woman interrupts, big sunglasses taking up most of her face, “All my ex-husbands had one, those things are cursed.”
What are the chances it’s the vehicle, and not the other constant, which would be herself?
You silently wish she didn’t tell you that, because knowing your gullible tendencies, you’ll load every one of those preconceived notions on the handsome stranger. You only spoke to him for a few minutes, nothing more, nothing less.
“You know why they’ve got all that room in the back?” She leans close, bubblegum painted lips in a deep frown, “It’s for the hundreds of hearts they break.”
After what seemed like forever, the older woman finally leaves. She had nearly told you her entire life story, dragging on and on about her ex-husbands and her new, young and fresh fiance living a few miles away.
Now, with slow, hesitant steps towards the station, you find yourself staring down at a bag of assorted gummies, they’re your favourite fruity flavours and next to it is a cherry cola slurpee with a pink straw. There’s a note under the cup, neat handwriting on the small sticky note:
‘Ricky said it’s fine for you to sit out front in the shade. Can’t have you overheating, keep cool, sugar.’
You don’t realize he didn’t even buy any cigarettes until he’s long gone.
“How do you do that?”
Natasha turns to you with that signature red-lipped smirk, “Easy, I make ‘em think I’m interested. Flirting on a Friday night is a game and you’ve got to be the best player if you wanna get your fill.” She adjusts her breasts in her tight dress, flipping her vibrant hair over her bare shoulder.
You make a face, anxiously tugging at the hem of your sundress. It was on the shorter side with a cute bow on each of your shoulders, the ditsy floral design made you stick out like a sore thumb in the sea of denim and leather. But you wanted to wear it because you adored the colour since it complemented your skin, and it was fitting in all the right places. Natasha even let you borrow some of her jewelry to complete your outfit, she wanted you to wear heels too, but you were set on your little white sneakers.
You hadn’t been to this bar before, much preferring the one on 5th Avenue where they had karaoke nights.
For your first trip to The Den, it was going pleasantly. You found comfortable seats at the bar, the music was a little out of your comfort zone but it was catchy, and Natasha let you have a few sips of her free drinks.
“C’mon, I’ll teach you. Watch him for a moment.” She points across the bar where another man was leaning close to a woman, a charming grin on his lips as he made her laugh. Then, almost like magic, after he scoots closer and tilts his head, she waves her hand, beckoning the bartender over.
You gulp, watching him swing an arm around her shoulder and speak into her ear. “Looks like… they’re together.”
“It just looks that way, but I’ll bet that he’s going home with someone else.” Natasha sips on her cocktail, “Maybe if he wanted her, he would’ve offered her a drink.”
By that logic, buying drinks was a ticket to the bedroom. Which only makes it more surprising when a fresh drink is placed in front of you. The glass lands on the wooden countertop as Natasha playfully nudges your shoulder.
You blink down at it, shivering at the thought of getting intimate with a stranger tonight. “Excuse me, I-I didn’t order this.”
“It’s on the house, sugar.”
The bartender stands before you, those familiar blue eyes twinkle under the light fixtures, the yellow glow outlines the high points of his chiselled face and defines the dips and curves.
His hair falls over his eyes, “Did you like the cherry cola? Ricky said those treats were your favourites.”
Andmaybe you pinned the sticky note on your corkboard above your bed, and have spent hours staring at it upside down, daydreaming of the single meeting like it was the beginning of a fairytale.
Tonight, Ari is dressed in a dark blue flannel with the top buttons undone, exposing his brawny chest dusted with thick hair. Your gaze lingers there for a moment too long, your mouth watering at the sliver of skin.
The awkwardness washes over you, practically spreading to every inch of the bar, and you fumble for a response. “I-I, yes, I do—”
“Thank you, she means to say.” The redhead rubs your back, whispering under her breath through her wide smile, “Don’t get the stupid shys, or so help me.”
Someone calls his name, “Well, tell her it’s no problem.”
“Hey, sweetie, the hunky bartender says it’s no problem.”
You’re a mess under his watchful gaze as he laughs quietly before turning to exchange a few words with a blonde bartender. Trying to get a hold of yourself, you grip the glass and tuck your other hand between your thighs, “I heard, Nat.”
She holds up her hands, casually turning to the new woman next to her, her empty glass forgotten on the countertop. Turning on the charm like a switch.
Ari faces you again, his big hands braced on the smooth dark wood, “How have you been? Keepin’ cool in the heat?” His silver knuckles gleam, the chunky skull ring sitting snug on his middle finger.
“Good and yes, um, the hours at the candy shop stretch on a little too long sometimes, but it’s inside and I get freebies every shift.”
“A new job?” He frowns, “you don’t work at Old Ricky’s anymore?”
You sip the drink, it’s delightfully sweet, the berries exploding on your tongue. There’s a slight burn from the alcohol but nothing too strong. “I never have the same job for long. Left the station a week ago, I think.”
He cocks a brow, “Don’t tell me you’re one of them irresponsible gals who fuck in the supply closet.”
You quickly shake your head, “N-No! I’ve, I’ll never do that…”
“Never is a strong word, sugar.”
In the closet? With that old broom and the endless array of tissue paper on the ceiling tall shelves?
Never, you promise yourself, never with any of those customers at the station—well, except for one, maybe.
“I get bored easily, and there are so many things to do in the city, lots of fun shops.”
Ari hums thoughtfully, his shoulders looking broader as he leans forward, “Is everyone kind to you?
Even your old bosses?”
You happily nod with your lips sealed around the straw, loving the array of flavours, “Yes, they’ll even call me if they need some help in the shop and always give me something for the trouble.”
“Do you still work for them?”
“I-It’s just favours.” You briefly consider your actual life choices, they were peculiar, but they were yours.
“That you get paid for.” It isn’t a question, more of an amused observation.
“Not always in money!” You correct, “Sometimes in food, like at that fancy restaurant by the beach, I got free meals for the whole week, or in merchandise. Just last month, Tamera gave me a new kettle after I watched the shop for a few hours!”
Ari nods, chuckling, “Damn, a new kettle? Maybe I’ll have to apply at Tamera’s soon.”
You giggle around the straw, not even noticing your drink is empty until your straw makes a noise.
“Sounds to me that you have jobs all over the city, I’ve always loved women with a work ethic.”
Is this it? Are you flirting with him, or is it just a conversation?
The only thing you’re positive of is that he’s definitely flirting, has been since you got here. You stiffen, staring down at the ice cubes in the glass, and clenching your thighs together, was this his ticket into your bed?
Oh no, you hope he wouldn’t think your floral and lace hemmed sheets were childish, they were your favourite, and they were free after you helped Mr. Brown with his shop a few weekends ago.
You like Ari, you really like him.
“Levinson, Danvers! You’re up!”
“Coming!” He replies, taking the empty glass from your hand. When your skin brushes his, an undeniable warmth tingles through your body, making you shiver on the barstool. And this dark, humid bar feels like it’s on the sun instead of some lost and lively city.
You’re about to speak but Ari cuts you off, “It’s on the house again. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t have to pay for drinks, ever.”
“Curtis!” He calls, waving to the man with the buzzcut on the other side of the bar, “anything she wants, it’s free of charge.”
His friend snorts, smirking as he swings a towel over his shoulder, “it’s coming out of your paycheck, man.”
“Yes, boss.” Ari rolls his eyes, then trails his gaze over your features, they linger on your parted lips. “I’ve got the cash to spare. Don’t be shy, sugar, order whatever your gentle heart desires, got it?”
“Not only did you get free drinks and food all night, but for the rest of your fucking life.” Natasha swings you around excitedly. “From the cherry cola guy! You wouldn’t shut up about him that first day, and I can fully understand why.”
You giggle, “isn’t he a dreamboat?”
“Oh, he’s a fantasy on legs, just like you, baby! I’ll admit, I thought the two of you would disappear into the washroom.” She wiggles her eyebrows.
“Ah—not in public!”
“Not yet, I know you and you aren’t as vanilla as you let on…” She sings, wrapping you in a tight hug, her sweaty skin against yours as she leans on you for support. “I can’t even take a pinch of credit! You did it all yourself, princess, your mama would be proud of you.”
She would, and she’d ask for all the details about the prince charming in denim. “I just—I didn’t even do anythin’!”
As Ari and Danvers performed, you sat at the bar, fully entranced by their essence and hearty tune. His long hair and shaded eyes captivated you in every way, even from his stool behind the blonde woman who sang a popular rock song. Her voice was undoubtedly gifted and paired with his skilled fingers gliding over the guitar as the soothing, everyone was victim to their show.
People danced to the deep rock ‘n roll that filled The Den, hot touches and heavy kisses exchanged in the booths and on the floor. Between sipping on fruity drinks, and munching on your unlimited supply of french fries and nachos, you couldn’t look away from Ari—at that moment, he was your Mr. Rock ‘n Roll.
Towards the end of the set, he stood up, his shirt fully unbuttoned and fluttering with each rock of his hips, magical fingers playing a rumbling bass that you could feel in your cells.
Right now, you can still feel the lingering effects of his godly talent.
“You feel that?” Your best friend yanks you close, staring down at you with her green eyes. A ghost of a smile plays on her lips as she wraps an arm behind your back, pulling you closer, “Do you feel that?”
You’re trapped and wildly caught off guard, perhaps she had too many free drinks tonight. “Uh, no?”
She leans down, going cross-eyed. “That’s fucking power. And you’re drippin’ with it.” She kisses your forehead before spinning you, drunkenly shouting at the top of her lungs, “My girls finally got a hunky fella to take care of her and I’m gonna fuckin’ cry!”
“What’s this I hear about crying?” A red Chevy pulls up next to you, the driver’s arm hanging out with a burning cigarette pinched between his knuckles. “You two ladies all right?”
A force shoves you forward, and you barely have a chance to stand upright. “Nat!” You scold, “I’m sorry, she’s had too much to drink.”
“Seems like it.” Ari notes, “You two want a ride?”
Yes, a little voice in your head pleads, but you remember the last time you went out with Natasha, your other friend, Wanda came too and her husband picked you all up from the bar. And, Natasha, buzzing with her endless free drinks vomited all over the backseats, narrowly missing your lap.
It was probably best that you two didn’t ruin Ari’s nice truck anyway.
“We’ll walk, it’s only the next block and I think the fresh air will do her good.” You cover your face in embarrassment as Natasha plops on a park bench, neck craned at an angle that can’t be comfortable, she starts singing an off-tune rendition of a Christmas carol.
“You sure? I don’t know if I can let you two be alone this late at night.”
He’s right, even this late on a Friday, the streets are as quiet as a library, and the chances of running into someone were low. Ari wasn’t a complete stranger, but you didn’t feel absolutely comfortable when Natasha was drunk out of her mind. He must sense your hesitance.
Ari ends up giving you his number, whistling low as he types the ten digits into your cute little cellphone. He returns the device and compliments the dangling heart pendant. “I mean it, text me or I’m starting a damn search party.”
Your heart flutters, “I promise—as long as you let me know too. I wanna know when you get home safe.”
“Ain’t that sweet,” Ari murmurs lowly, leaning closer with one hand on the wheel, “You this sweet with everyone in the city?”
You shrug, “sometimes… My mama says kindness is what makes the world go ‘round. Then, my cousin said if the world stopped moving, we’d die.”
A loud laugh escapes Ari’s lips, his cigarette smoke wrapping around you like a warm grey blanket. “Sounds like you’ve got a lovely family, sugar. You know what they say about girls from good families?”
The darkness of the night seeps into Ari’s throat, draping every word in a gravelly, comforting voice that pulls you in like a fish on the line.
“N-No.”
“Usually, they’re family-orientated, and for the most part, those gals are great mothers.”
Your toes curl in your sneakers as he takes a final pull from his cigarette, flicking it off to the side. The smoke floats from his lips slow and steady. “Oh, my parents want me married before having kids.”
“So, I’ve got to marry you first?”
You choke on air, fisting the skirt of your dress. “What?”
“I’m joking, sugar.” He is, sort of anyway. He watches the pensive expression linger on your face and casually winks. “I think your friend needs your help.” He nods down the street.
You follow his gaze and gasp, Natasha is lying half on the bench, her arms sprawled over her head and legs hanging off the side. In a dash, you stumble towards her, calling over your shoulder, “Sorry Ari—Nat, get up!”
She’s muttering to herself when you come closer, and with dazed eyes, she makes grabby hands. “There she is, aren’t you glad you came tonight? He’s tall and sexy, plays guitar and sings, I probably should’ve dragged you along sooner—” She hiccups, “You and Ari really hit it off. If that ain’t true love, I don’t know what is.”
Ari pulls up next to you, sunglasses holding back his long brown hair. “I’ll wait up for your text, sweetheart. You two get home safe.” Then, that red truck passes slowly before speeding up down the street.
Biting on your lip, you watch him turn a corner and disappear, then heave up Natasha, grunting softly as she hangs off you like dead weight. Her hands pull your head closer, pressing your cheeks together so she can whisper in your ear, “Oh, wait, do you hear that?”
You pant, struggling to see through the dimly lit street. “Huh? No?”
“It’s fucking wedding bells!” She shakes your shoulders, drunkenly cackling while spinning the two of you around once more. “I’m gonna be a maid of honour!”
It’s a few days later, the sun is as cruel as ever on the Flamingo Trailer Park. Today, you and Natasha spend the day by the park pool, lounging in the striped chairs until your other friend, Wanda came by with her children. The kids loved the pool, they also loved whenever you brought your floaties.
You fell victim to their adorable pouts and set off on the short walk back to your trailer to retrieve them. You haven’t been home since the weekend because of these dramatically blazing days. Natasha’s trailer was far bigger than yours and had the best air conditioner, she was always stocked with fizzy cherry colas too. You suspected you’d be spending a lot of time in the ‘Widow’s Web’ this summer.
There’s a familiar truck is parked next to your trailer. It’s deep red with white stripes, and high off the ground. The for-sale sign is also gone, and a few plants and lounge chairs sit on the small patio.
As you search for your key, you hear odd noises. Listening closer, you can make out the creaking, slapping skin, moans and groans. Only then do you notice the dull rocking of the trailer—oh goodness.
Your curiosity drags you to the open window and clutching your towel to your chest, you stand on your tippy-toes.
A gasp nearly escapes you, but you slap a hand over your mouth as blood rushes to your face, making your knees tremble.
You can’t see her face because it’s shoved into a pillow, but her skin is glowing. Sticky with sweat and other fluids, the faceless woman is bent over the wide mattress. The sheets are wrinkled and clothes are skewed all over the place, hanging off other furniture.
The long-haired man ruts into her from behind, her hair tight in his fist as he spits profanities. “Fucking whore, you gonna come again already?You like daddy’s cock in your little cunt, fucking those thoughts from your head?”
And just like that, you’re absolutely hooked, biting on the side of your finger as he spanks her ass, shoving her further up the bed.
From this angle, you can’t see much and it almost makes you pout. You can’t catch a glimpse of his cock, but judging from the woman’s breathy moans, it’s got to be hitting all the right places. He’s so big behind her, dripping with glory and dominance as his muscles flex under his taut, tanned skin.
You watch him suck his thumb before bringing it down, and a moment later, the faceless woman whines, greedily meeting his thrusts. Her other hand slips between her thighs, her moans pouring out like fresh lemonade in a glass.
He grunts through clenched teeth, “Yeah, you gonna let daddy fuck your ass too? Split that hole open on my fat cock, make you cry like the stupid slut you are.”
And then, your heart stops. Your ears flooded with something red hot, as your bones transform to metal, melting your feet to the burning ground.
He meets your gaze, groaning deep and heavy. His thrusts get rougher, driving forward with something else—more purpose—and he smirks.
“You like that, huh?”
He draws back, his cock bobbing against his lower stomach, the condom is slick and clinging to his girth. You gnaw harder on your finger, desperately wishing to see him bare, memorize—and touch every protruding vein and feel his weight in your palm, the fat, mushroom tip between your fingers, inside of you in every damn hole. Your bikini bottoms are soaked and sticky, your juices dripping down your thighs.
“That’s it, good girl.” Ari spits down, the saliva lands on his length before he rams forward, sliding deep within the woman while keeping his gaze locked on you, sweet little you. “Knew you were a filthy girl, that innocent little face didn’t fool me. You like that? Tell daddy how much you like that.”
The woman cries a muffled reply, nodding and reaching for a pillow.
He squeezes his fist, pressing her into the plush mattress. Ari’s eyes darken like the night sky, and his hair sticks to his sweaty forehead, “I wasn’t talking to you.”
Those words draw you back to the present, and your face erupts in heat, so damn hot you can barely breathe. Your towel flutters to the dirt ground as you drop low, sweeping it up and dashing away. The sound of your flip-flops in sync with that lewd, disgustingly hot sound of slapping skin.
Later that night, you get a text message:
I didn’t know this trailer came with a peeping tom, much less you, sugar.
:and here we go, all aboard the dirty trailer daddy express !!
! Expect the next part soon, but please I don’t have an update schedule, so I’ll just let everyone know the specific date. Please don’t ask !!
As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3
| Trailer Park!Ari Levinson x inexperienced!reader (2000s Trailer Park AU)
|fluff, trailer park neighbours-to-lovers, AGE GAP, bartender!Ari, dilf!Ari, Ari Levinson x OCs, reader x other Cs (mentioned), innocent!reader, cigarettes, alcohol, beefy 6’8” Ari, soft!/dom!Ari, flirting, nicknames, size difference, manhandling, possessive behaviour, accidental voyeurism, SMUT - minors DNI, daddy kink, size kink, innocence/ruined kink, unprotected sex, oral, fingering, p*ssy slapping, dirty talk, degradation, dumbification, spitting, dacryphilia, breeding kink, squirting, cumplay, creampie(s), specific warnings in each part
| The sun of ‘06 is brutal this summer, especially in Flamingo Trailer Park, the land of big hearts and cheap tricks, you’ve been here for years unlike your “new” neighbour, Ari. He’s older, bigger, and intimidating, the local rockstar, and you, well, aren’t you just the sweetest girl in the whole-damn city?
♫ ·ﾟ
/ | 4.67K
/ | he’s here, dirty trailer daddy is here !! from this post. thank you everyone for sending asks, you’ve all helped me write this fic !! bc this is me, there will be cameos from other cevans/sebstan characters. In this version of the 80s, there’s cellphones and a bunch of other things bc I’m me. Inspired by Lana Del Rey songs (complete list here). No gifs/photos belong to me, found the pics on Pinterest, all credits go to the original creators. And I present, another dirty daddy for the books. All mistakes are my own. [smut=*] ☼ - ☼
requested: Imagine y/n gets sick but she hides it from Chris so he won’t get worried but well Chris is filmming somewhere far and figures out like would he be angry that she hid from him? Ofcourse he’ll be all caring ang loving after butI wonder what would be his first reaction.
a/n: love this idea! thank you for the request!
warnings: teeeeeeeny bit of angst, reader has a seasonal cold (this is a fictional world, meaning no covid!)
no beta/loosely proofread so please excuse errors!
“Miss you more,” Chris’ voice crackles through the speaker of your phone.
“And Dodger misses you, too, of course,” you giggle, reaching over to scratch the pup snuggled up on the bed beside you, taking up the space where Chris normally would be.
“He’s taking up the bed, isn’t he?” Chris knowingly chuckles, settling back into the bed of the hotel he’s staying in.
“Not anymore than you do,” you tease, making Chris roll his eyes and laugh. You join him, but your laughter soon turns into a small fit of coughing.
“Y’okay, Honey?” he asks, and once you catch your breath, your throat feels dry and scratchy.
“Yeah,” you breathe, clearing your throat one last time. “Just a tickle or something.”
“You sure?”
“I’m fine, Chris, seriously,” you chuckle. “Must’ve just choked on my own air.”
“Well, alright. It’s just that you know I worry about you when I’m away,” he reasons.
“I do know that. But you don’t need to worry. I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself,” you feign annoyance, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Oh yeah? ‘Cause last time I checked, you still need me to rub your back to fall asleep,” he taunts right back.
“Only nine more days, Bub,” you remind him and yourself, trying not to get too sad before you have to fall asleep.
“Only nine more days, Bub,” you remind him and yourself, trying not to get too sad before you have to fall asleep.
“Only nine more days, Bub,” you remind him and yourself, trying not to get too sad before you have to fall asleep.
“Feels like forever, though,” he sighs. “Just make sure you’re taking care of yourself, Honey. I’m gonna let you go so that you can get some sleep.”
“I will,” you nod, knowing that although he can be overprotective of you, he only has your health and wellbeing as his priority, which is hard for him when he’s away. “I love you,” you hum timidly, sinking down below the covers to hide your mouth as you clear your throat again.
“I love you, too. Get some rest, okay? And let me know if that tickle turns into something more, alright? I can come home early if you need me to,” he tells you.
“Christopher, I’m fine,” you remind him. “Please don’t lose sleep worrying about me. I promise I will be fine and then you can baby me all you want when you get back,” you wink.
“I certainly will, Sweetheart,” he laughs. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” you echo, then turn the screen so that he can see Dodger. “Say goodnight to Dad, Bubba.”
Chris coos his goodnight to the pup before telling you he loves you once more, just for good measure, with his promise to call you in the morning. Then you end the call, connect your phone to its charger, and cuddle up to Dodger as you sink into a deep sleep.
~~~
The next morning, your alarm for work blares, and you wake up feeling awful. Your nose is fully plugged, your ears are itchy, and it feels like there’s something stuck in your throat every time you swallow. You groan, weakly pushing Dodger off of you as you realize you’re drenched in your own sweat.
With an exasperated sigh, you kick the covers off of your burning body to let the ceiling fan cool you off. But almost instantly, goosebumps prickle over your skin, and you start to shiver, which seemingly triggers a nasty, sharp coughing fit.
What the hell? Did that simple tickle really turn into a full blown cold? And overnight?
And as if he’s subconsciously telling you, “I told you so,” your phone rings on the nightstand beside you, with none other than the caller ID of your wonderful boyfriend’s smiling face on your screen.
“Hi,” you answer, trying your best to hide the rasp in your voice.
“Good morning, Sweetheart,” Chris’ chipper voice greets, very much a contrast to yours. “How’d you sleep?”
“Fine,” you lie, thankful that he promised not to FaceTime you in the mornings since you claim to be embarrassed if his coworkers, managers, or just other people see how you look in the mornings.
“You don’t sound fine,” he says in an accusatory, yet worried tone. “Honey, are you feeling alright?”
“I’m fine, Chris, I promise,” you lie again, yanking the blankets back over your shivering, sticky body. “Just… still waking up.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Love,” he hums apologetically. He knows your schedule, so he knew you’d be awake by now. But now he hears the exhaustion in your voice and feels bad. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“No, no,” you assure him. “Woke up just a few minutes ago. Just a little foggy this morning.”
“You sure that’s all?” he pushes. He knows you like the back of his hand, so of course he suspects something is up.
“I promise. Please don’t worry about me,” you coo to him, wishing you could just have him here to make you feel better.
But you know you have to hold strong so that he doesn’t drop everything at work to come back home to you. You know how important this project is to him, but even though he always says nothing is more important to him than you, you’d never forgive yourself if he cut things short just because you have a little cough.
“Always worryin’ about you, pretty girl,” he rasps. “Hey, I’ll call you tonight, okay?”
“Okay,” you agree. “Have a good day, Bub.”
“You, too, Honey. And please, do not hesitate to call me if you aren’t feeling one hundred percent. I can arrange to come home to you, okay?” he reminds you.
You want to fight back. You want to insist you’re fine. But if you’re being honest with yourself, you don’t even know if you’ll be able to drag yourself out of bed to get ready for work.
“Okay,” you simply say. “See you tonight. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Sweetheart. See you.”
You hang up, then groan, then roll over to face the furry friend in bed beside you.
“Bubba, I think we’re calling in sick today.”
~~~
Two days pass, and although your fever breaks, your cough only seems to get worse, meaning it’s getting harder to hide your state from Chris. Every night on FaceTime, he notices your tired eyes and how you sniffle your nose every few minutes, in addition to the way you put yourself on mute to (not so) subtly cough into your arm.
You’ve only taken one sick day and have been working from home since, but not much work has been done because of how awful you feel. The best you can do is call into your meetings, which isn’t terrible since you can do them in sweatpants.
But one afternoon while you’re lounging on the couch - when you should be at work - Chris shoots you a text.
Can you FaceTime?!!
Your heartbeat increases as you read the text.
Shoot. He doesn’t know you took off work, but if he finds out, then he’ll know something is up.
i’m at work :(
You feel bad for lying, but in the end, it’s for his own good. You don’t want him to put this project on hold for you. You can take care of yourself.
It will be quick, I promise! Just gotta show you something!
Wait, are you not on a lunch break right now?
He’s smart. He knows you should be on your lunch break around this time, so there’s no reason you shouldn’t be able to call. Before you even get the chance to try to formulate a text back, he’s requesting to FaceTime you. Instinctually, you decline the call.
Honey pick up :(
He calls again.
And you give in.
You answer, the call connects, and within just another second, his smiling face is filling your screen.
“I gotta show you the place we’re filming at today– Wait, are you in the living room?” his smile drops and confusion fills his face instead once he sees the background.
You decide to give up your act, not having the energy to pretend any longer. You nod your head slowly and shamefully, then let out a nasty cough.
“(Y/n), you’re sick,” he croons.
“No I’m not. I’m fi–” you’re cut off by another shrill coughing fit.
“Bullshit. You’re sick and you’ve been lying to me,” he lovingly scolds you. “How long have you been out of work?”
“This is my third day,” you sigh. “Technically, I’m supposed to be working from home but the best I can do is Zoom meetings. My boss is chill about it, though.”
“Sweetheart, why didn’t you just tell me you’re sick? I can come home early,” he says like he has a hundred times before.
“Chris, I didn’t want you to drop everything just for me.”
“You’re so much more important than any of this, (Y/n),” he shakes his head.
“But this project is so important to you, too. I don’t want you to just up and leave. I didn’t want to be another worry for you.”
“Honey, you know I’m going to worry about you no matter what. Especially when I’m all the way across the country. I just wish you would have told me you’ve been sick.”
“I’m sorry,” you hang your head and sniffle. “I do miss you, but I don’t want to be an interruption to your work.”
“Stop that,” he chastises you with a smile. “You. Are. More. Important. If you would have just told me you’ve been sick, even if I couldn’t leave, I still would have ordered you groceries or food or stuff.”
“I know,” you sigh.
“I feel like you don’t, though,” his adorable smile turns into a slight frown. “(Y/n), you don’t have to do everything for yourself. I am always here for you… well, not physically right now. But I love you and I want to take care of you. If you’d just let me.”
“I love you, too,” you echo bashfully. “And I will let you take care of me.”
“Good,” he smiles again, and proudly this time.
“But you have to finish your work,” you try to reason with him. “Do not come home early. Promise?”
“I promise,” he rolls his eyes and sighs. “But only if you promise to text me honest updates about how you’re feeling. Do you have a fever?”
“I only had one for the first day. It’s really just a bad cough now. And the occasional body ache.”
“Honeyyyyy,” he groans. “How am I supposed to stay another week when I know you’re feelin’ sick?”
“Willpower?” you suggest feebly.
“I have no willpower when it comes to you, pretty girl. I’m absolutely weak for you. You know that,” he winks.
“We’ve been apart for longer, Chris,” you giggle. “You’ll make it, I promise. And I will, too. Now what did you want to show me on FaceTime?”
After you direct him off the topic of you, Chris proceeds to flip the phone camera to show you what he’d initially called you for. They’re outside and filming on some grassy, rolling hills today, and he just had to show you the view of the water below.
He told you it reminded him of you; he pictured the two of you having a picnic and jumping into the water.
Christopher Evans is many things. He’s brave, he’s strong, and he’s confident. But he’s also compassionate, loving, and absolutely whipped for you.
And to be honest, you’re not sure how you’ll make it another week without him, either.
~~~
Four more days pass - meaning only two more until Chris will be home - and your cold has completely left your body. After doubling up on vitamins, staying hydrated, and resting at home, you have made a full recovery. Maybe that was just your body’s way of forcing you to slow down and take a break.
Last night on the phone, Chris had been more than relieved to hear you’ve been feeling much better. However, for some reason, he hasn’t called you this morning.
You brush it off, simply assuming he’s just busy. But it’s a Saturday, and he should be off today. And what makes you worry is that he hasn’t even responded to your good morning text, either. In fact, your message isn’t even marked as ‘Delivered’.
You try to think reasonably. Maybe they’re filming somewhere there’s no service. Maybe he has his phone on the data-saving setting. It could be plenty of things, but your mind wanders to worrying about him.
To redirect your thoughts, you pull up the grocery app on your phone to order some essentials before Chris gets back. You should have taken him up on his offer of having groceries and food delivered to the house, since the fridge is getting a little bare. But you know he has other things to be doing.
And so do you.
You place the order for the groceries, then make yourself busy with tasks around the house such as laundry, dishes, and vacuuming up so much of Dodger’s fur off the floors and couches that you’re shocked he still has an entire coat covering his body.
A few hours later, the doorbell rings, which means the delivery person must have arrived with your groceries. You glance at your phone to check the time (and your messages) and Chris still hasn’t texted you.
With worry on your mind, you toe over to the entryway, anyways.
But when you open the door, your gaze falls upon Chris, in the flesh, with his duffle bag slung over his shoulder and a hand on his suitcase handle.
“Surprise,” he greets with a smile, dropping the bag and opening his arms.
“You’re not groceries!” you gasp, immediately jumping into his arms, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, and curling your legs around his torso.
“No, I’m not,” he laughs, squeezing you tight and holding you close to him. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
And upon hearing the call of his main pack leader, Dodger comes bolting to the front door, too. Chris manages to toss his things into the house, corral Dodger back inside with him, and close the front door, all while you cling to him like a koala.
“Oh my god,” you sigh into his neck, taking in his aroma - slightly sweaty from the airplane, but still fresh and so comforting. You lift your head to glance at him. “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you more,” he caresses the outsides of your face with his large hands as you uncurl your legs from him. “Gonna take care of you all weekend, Honey. You’re not gonna lift a single finger.”
“Chris, I’m not sick anymore,” you giggle, wrapping your arms around his torso. “And you promised you wouldn’t come home early!”
“We wrapped early. And I’m so glad you’re better,” he coos. “But I don’t need an excuse to spoil my girl,” he smirks as he sweeps you off your feet and makes a beeline for the bedroom.
“Chris,” you can’t contain your laughter, watching how Dodger trails behind his dad in anticipation for some attention.
“You’re on bed rest, Darlin’,” he whispers, gently laying you down onto the bed.
“Alright. But only if you keep me company,” you pout your lips, tugging at the fabric of his shirt to get him to roll into bed with you, and he slips right beside you, coddling you to his chest and holding you tight.
“I wouldn’t dream of leaving you alone,” he says with a dainty kiss to your forehead.
requested: hi Rae! i saw this tik tok and thought of futile!chris x reader! thought you could add something like this into a side blurb whenever you get the chance! i love the series so much!
a/n: this is just a baby baby blurb (500 words lol) but i love the idea of soft, sleepy chris hehe
warnings: none i think??? implications of smut, and i suppose just sleepy, shirtless, tatted chris does need a warning lol
no beta/loosely proofread so please excuse errors!
A lovely, golden-pink sunlight floods through the bedroom windows and past the curtains which ripple gently from the early spring, clear morning breeze outside.
Both of your warm bodies are snug together, legs twizzled together under the sheets while the birds chirp peacefully outside.
It’s not warm enough to lay outside in a bathing suit yet, but the cool, gentle gust of wind feels nice against your sweaty bodies, the two of you both clad in nothing but your undergarments.
Chris is laying on his back beside you in all his glory, his broad chest is covered in a fuzzy, dusty layer of hair, the countless patterns of pigment on his skin, and a silver chain which adorns the space around his neck.
With closed eyelids and a hand placed on his bare, ink-littered chest, you let your palm rest over Chris’ heartbeat, and eventually, yours syncs up. It’s a bizarre feeling, but a lovely way to feel connected to him after being apart for so long.
He shifts, rolling over to lay between your legs with a small grunt, then looks up at you with a sleepy smile.
“Missed you,” is all he mumbles with a content sigh, kissing your bicep before his eyes fall shut again.
“Missed you, too, Bub,” you whisper, running your hands down the rippling muscles of his back, giving him goosebumps.
As you lay there, looking at the man lying in between your legs, he looks so soft, so submissive, and so vulnerable. It’s an extreme juxtaposition to how he had been dominating you and controlling your every sense less than ten minutes prior.
You love that about Chris, though: how dynamic he is. One minute he’s in charge and the next, all he wants is to be coddled.
He’s your big, tough, tatted, soft, fluffy puppy.
“You’re so warm,” you murmur, taking your fingers from his back to run them through his slightly sweaty hair, taking a few wisps pressed to his forehead from perspiration to push them back into place atop his head of dark, caramel hair.
“I’ll stay here forever if ya let me,” he teases, turning his head just enough to look up at you, and you see a small smile grace his lips.
“I’ll let ya,” you mutter, leaning down to kiss his forehead.
“I missed this so much. Missed you more than I can say,” he says clearer this time, lifting his head to make eye contact with you. “Don’t wanna leave you again.”
“Same,” you sigh, twirling a longer strand of his hair between your thumb and index finger, then grabbing to cup his scruffy face in your palms. “But it’s such a pleasant surprise for you to come back to me looking like this. This fluffy hair and handsome beard. And you’re here for now. So let’s just focus on that.”
“Oh, I’m focused, pretty girl,” he all but growls, pushing himself up so that instead of laying on you, he’s hovering over you.
He leans down to connect his lips to yours, then instead latches on to your neck to begin leaving sensual kisses travelling southwards down your midsection.
“Yeah?” comes your breathy response, fingers tangling in his hair again as you start to feel dizzy with arousal for the second time this morning.
“Oh yeah. Very focused,” he mumbles, looking up at you with hooded, lust-filled eyes just before he starts to devour his breakfast of choice: you.
