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#New hire fic
boxofbonesfic · 1 year
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Title: E-Vite 4/20 [A New Hire interlude]
Series Masterlist
Pairing: Alpha!Mob!Ari Levinson x Naive!Omega!Reader
Word Count: 4,382
Summary: Ari’s mate finds herself invited to a brunch featuring more than just bottomless mimosas. 
Warnings: 18+ Only, Drugs, Recreational Drug Use,  Mob AU, Age Gap, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Ari, Darkfic, Breeding, Smut, MINORS DNI, Dead dove: Do not eat
A/N: i’m so sorry this is so late! but (i hope) it’s worth it! takes place roughly a week or so before reader and Ari leave for Paris. a little character development i think you’ll all enjoy. divider by @firefly-graphics​. dedicated to @cocobutterqwueen​, who prompted this work ❤️
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 😘
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You purse your lips, your brows drawing together critically as you stare at yourself in the mirror. You heave a dissatisfied sigh, brushing imaginary dirt from the hem of your white tennis skirt. 
 “Too much?” You mutter, rocking back and forth on the heels of your matching ivory sneakers. “It’s too much, isn’t it?” The silver charms on your bracelet jingle softly as you begin wiggling out of your skirt, trying to undo the hook-eye closure on the back. You aren’t expecting to see your mate there, leaned in the doorway of the walk-in closet with an amused smile playing at the edges of his full lips. 
 “Third outfit in fifteen minutes, Sweetheart. You nervous?” There’s a teasing note in his voice that makes you pout, shaking your head even though it’s obvious he’s right.  
“No, I’m not nervous.” You continue fiddling with the zipper until Ari closes his hands around yours. It’s silly, to be this anxious about meeting a bunch of people you’ve already been talking to for weeks, but you are. Joining Moms of Riverside County had been a whim. At most, you had expected to find new dinner recipes, maybe a few fun things to do with Liam. Instead, you’d found… a community? 
 Some of the members were a little out there, but there were far more good apples than bad. People posted pictures, shared memes— not pronounced “may-mays” as Ari had pointed out, to your embarrassment. There was even a group-chat, which you had recently been invited to—✨🔥 Cool Moms of Riverside County🔥✨, which had given you a good laugh. You weren’t particularly active yet, but even so you had been tagged and invited to a private brunch being hosted by one of the members you actually talked to with some regularity. 
  Come if you can! We’d love to see you! Sabrina’s casual message outside of the group chat had left you scrambling to respond last night, typing out at least thirty messages and showing them to Ari before deciding on one. 
  Okay! Thanks for inviting me, I wold love to come!
 “I-it’s just a facebook group thing.” You mumble, and he chuckles, kissing your forehead. 
 “It’s okay to be a little nervous about meeting your internet friends for the first time.” He must feel it in the bond, the electric apprehension running through every one of your limbs and down to the tips of your fingers and toes. “Just be yourself, Sweetheart. Trust me, they’ll love you.” He turns to exit the closet, but pokes his head back in. “And I like the skirt.” 
 An hour later, you’re in the Jeep on your way across town, Sabrina’s address punched into your phone’s GPS. You’re trying to think of potential conversation topics in your head, drumming your fingers against the steering wheel. You’d already checked the list of people in attendance—only ten, including you. 
  Exclusive.
 Sabrina’s house is half an hour outside of the city, nestled in the rolling hills off the highway. The private drive is blocked off by a wrought iron gate that you have to pull up to an intercom to get open. You lean out of the window, jabbing your thumb into the button. 
  “Yes? Who is it? Shh, Adrian!”
 You lick your lips nervously. “Um, it’s uh, it’s—”
  “Oh wait, I know who you are! I can see you on the camera. Come on in, girl!” The intercom buzzes loudly and the fence slides smoothly out of the way. It takes a full three minutes to get from the gate to the house, and when you pull up, there’s a line of expensive looking cars parked along the side. You take up the rear, taking a deep breath before hopping out. Gravel crunches under your feet, and as you’re heading up the stairs the front door opens. 
 “OhmyGod Hi!” You recognize Adrian from his pictures, his long dark hair piled up in a bun on top of his head. “How are you? Come in, come in,” he motions you forward with a wide smile. In one hand is a half full glass of wine, and he hugs you with the other. Underneath his rather fruity cologne is a distinctly Alpha scent, and when you pull away, you spot half a ring of teeth marks on the skin beneath his collar. 
 “Good, thanks,” you sputter, stepping over the threshold. It’s a monster of a house, the ceiling looming far above you. The air is heavy with the scent of warm sugar and brown butter, like someone’s baking. You cast a look around the foyer, there are pictures of Sabrina with her children, her husband—who just so happens to be the headmaster of Liam’s school. You toe off your shoes in the entryway, and Adrian scoffs. 
 “Oh, you don’t need to do that. Sabrina doesn’t give a shit about mud on her carpets,” he laughs. 
 “Habit, I guess,” you say, your own nervous laughter ringing awkwardly in the air with his. “I, um, have-have you been in the group long?” The questions you practiced in the car tangle confusedly together on your tongue. 
 “Like three years, I think?” He waves his hand as he shrugs. “But it got a lot more fun when Sab starting modding. Way more jokes.” He fixes you with a sly smile.  “Let’s go  get you a drink!” You tail Adrian through the house, and the sound of voices gets louder and louder as you go. The long hallway opens up into a massive kitchen, and a gaggle of people surround the marble island in the center of it, only a few of whom you recognize. 
 “Ladies,” Adrian claps his palm against his khaki-clad thigh, holding his wine glass aloft as he raises his voice to get their attention. “And gentle man,” he giggles, placing his palm against his chest, “Our last guest has arrived.” You duck your head in embarrassment as a little cheer ripples through the rest of the attendees.
 “Sorry I’m late, I think the e-vite said 4:20—”
 “Girl please.” You recognize Keisha’s fiery orange locs from her profile picture. “I just got here ten minutes ago. Sabrina! Girl where are you? You know I don’t know where you keep the glasses in this maze.” By your count, there are about seven people here, eight, including you. “Are you sure she’s the last one, Adrian? I thought Barb and Hannah were coming, too?”
 “Kayla’s got chicken pox, they cancelled this morning,” Adrian replies. “They’re fine, though, said she’s holding up well. Marathonning every episode of Bluey, apparently.” As the two of you join everyone else at the counter, Sabrina appears in the opposite doorway. 
 “Sorry, I went to get a lighter. Glasses are above the sink—hi! I’m so glad you could make it!” Sabrina is tiny, strawberry blonde curls piled on top of her head and secured with the biggest, pinkest bow you’ve ever seen. She reminds you of a Malibu Barbie—mansion and all. Sabrina rushes over to you, quickly depositing the tray of what looks like cigarette papers and lighters on the counter before hugging you tightly. 
 “Thanks for coming!” Sabrina looks genuinely happy to see you. They make room for you around the island. “I just moved here like a year and a half ago and it is so hard to make friends.”
 You let out a relieved breath. “I know exactly what you mean.” You had been nervous about coming, about whether or not you were actually going to fit-in . It feels like there are huge holes where general knowledge should be about how to act, what to say. All the culturally relevant gossip you know hit it’s expiration date a decade ago—but surprisingly, you don’t feel as terrified of that as you had been before arriving. 
 The conversation flows easily, and you finish your first glass of wine with a comfortable, warm buzz. Adrian makes it his business to serve the cooled cookies, and when you take two, he laughs. 
 “Okay, girl, I see you!” You blush as you bite down, gooey chocolate coating your tongue. 
 “I didn’t eat before I came,” you admit, polishing off the first cookie and starting on the second. “These are so good,” you add, and Sabrina preens. 
 “Thank you! I baked them myself.” Sabrina ducks down beneath the island countertop, and you hear the sound of a drawer rolling open, and then shut again. “I will admit I found the recipe online, though.” As she stands, she tosses a plastic bag of—
  Oh my God.
  Your eyes widen as the baggie of weed lands on the table, and they dart worriedly to the faces of everyone else there. No one seems surprised or upset, in fact, Keisha claps excitedly. 
 “Good,” she chirps, plucking a single paper from one of the packs on the silver tray. “I’ll roll.” 
 You shift nervously on your feet, unsure of what to do. You’ve never smoked before—the most you’ve ever done is drink alcohol, and even that you don’t do with any regularity. Ari’s beers in the fridge at home remain mostly untouched by you, and the occasional glass of wine is the extent of what you generally allow yourself. Not that you mind, really—
 You tap jittery fingers against the granite, and Adrian clucks his tongue at you. 
 “What’s wrong, babes?” His eyebrows crease with concern. “Not a joint person?” 
 “N-no?” You force yourself to calm down—these are all adults, and it’s not like it’s… illegal here, per-say. “I um, I haven’t actually ever… smoked. Marijuana.” 
 “You haven’t?” Sabrina’s gaze moves worriedly from your face to the half-eaten tray of cookies and back again. “Are you… kidding?”
 You sigh, dragging an embarrassed hand down your face. “No. Ugh, my… my parents were um. Really strict. Sorry. I’m not a narc or anything, I just, um, never really—” Sabrina grabs your hand with a soft smile and the rambling word vomit screeches to a halt. 
 “You don’t have to explain yourself at all. I just, well, I kind of thought you knew, to be honest.”
 “Knew?”
 “Yeah, it’s said 4/20 brunch, on 4/20,” she looks at you with a leading expression, but whatever reference she’s trying to make flies entirely over your head. You raise an eyebrow. 
 “That wasn’t… the time?”
 “420 means weed girl!” Adrian yelps, doubling over with raucous laughter. He rests a hand on his hip as he gasps for air. “This was a weed brunch!” You pinch the bridge of your nose, groaning. “Oh my God the cookies! You ate two of them!” Cold realization crosses your face as you turn to face them in horror. 
 “There was weed in the cookies!?”
 —
 Ari is waiting for you in the kitchen when you call—he’d been expecting you home half an hour ago, and though he wasn’t worried, he was beginning to get antsy. The bond is open—wide open, in fact—and your hazy amusement permeate it like smoke. 
 “Hi, Sweetheart. You okay?” He asks, and you giggle. 
  “ I’m good. I’m so-oo-oo good, ” you sing, drawing out the syllables. There’s a loud splash, and Ari raises an eyebrow as you gasp loudly through the receiver. 
  “Don’t drop your phone!”
 “I’m not gonna dro-op it,” you hiccough, and Ari can practically hear your pout. “She said I was going to drop my phone, but I’m not going to drop it—”
 “Kitten. What is—”
 “Can you come get me?” You say, cutting him off in a dreamy, small voice. “I don’t think I should drive. The floor is moving.” Ari pulls away from the phone, staring at it with confused, narrowed eyes.
 “The floor is… moving.” He repeats your babble, just to make sure he’s hearing it right. You heave a relieved sigh, as if he’s validated some previously held suspicion. 
 “Yes. And I really don’t think I should drive. I’m all wet.” 
 “Okay baby. Can you send me your friend’s address? I’m going to call Martine over in case Liam wakes up, and then I will come and get you.” 
 “Okay.” You hang up with no warning, leaving your confused and exasperated mate staring at his phone. It takes several minutes—and quite a few nonsensical strings of emojis—before the address comes through. 
  She’s drunk, he thinks to himself, shaking his head. A little wry smile plays at the edges of his mouth as he buckles himself into the Bentley. She has to be. He’s not upset as he turns out of the driveway, skirting generously around Martine’s car. He’s glad you’ve made friends—the tight fist your father had kept around your life has left a lasting impression, one Ari is eager to erase. 
 The traffic choking the highway eases as he circles around the city, the exit dumping him out into the rolling foothills on its outskirts. The address you’d sent him is one that takes him into familiar territory, and when he pulls up to the gate, it buzzes open before he has a chance to push the button on the intercom.
 Ari exits the vehicle, taking stock of each car lined up in the driveway—including yours. He pauses at the front steps, listening, before making his way around back instead. The sounds of music and laughter grow louder as he rounds the side of the house. Your scent is here too, cut with others and diluted by the smell of chlorine and charcoal smoke. The yard opens up before him, carefully manicured green surrounding the deeply set in-ground pool. 
 “I don’t remember inviting the mob.” An amused voice makes Ari turn, before he scoffs. 
 “You wouldn’t have to, Sabrina, you married it.” He replies, shaking his head before reaching down for a hug. “It’s been a while.” Sabrina tokes long and hard on the joint in her hand before she laughs. 
 “You’re telling me. What are you doing here?”
 “My mate is here.” Ari peers over Sabrina’s blonde head, squinting at the pool. “The one on the pizza floaty.” 
 You’re sprawled on the double-wide rubber float, chatting animatedly to a man sitting on the pool steps up to his waist. Sabrina claps her hands, loud, animated laughter escaping her grinning mouth. 
  “That’s your mate? Oh my God. I think—I think I’m gonna pee.” She doubles over, while Ari frowns down at her. “Sorry. Sorry. I just—Odd couple. In my defense, she is the sweetest person on earth, and you’re… you.” Ari purses his lips.
 “Yes, well, you’re related to me,” he says dryly. “I still don’t think you’ve forgiven me for putting worms in your hair.” 
 “I haven’t. It was disgusting.”
 “I was eight.” 
 Sabrina ignores him, flicking a honey-blonde lock over her shoulder before making her way over to the pool. She wades in, waving to get your attention. You look utterly relaxed, your limbs draped loosely across the floaty. Your fingers and toes trail in the water as a you drift. You sit up as Sabrina approaches, and for a moment, your wild hair is framed perfectly in the light of the setting sun.
  Little lioness.
 The words she speaks to you are snatched away by the wind as Ari approaches, squatting by the edge of the pool. You’re wearing a swimsuit you no doubt borrowed from Sabrina, a bikini he suspects is at least one size too small. Sliding off the edge of the pizza-shaped float, you wade over to him, a dopey smile on your face. 
 “Ari!” 
 “Hi, Kitten.” He leans down when you reach wet hands up to hug him. Ari doesn’t mind, drawing his fingers affectionately over your bare shoulders and back as he presses his face to the side of your throat. He can’t help but check. Underneath the heavy scent of the chlorine—and a light coating of weed-smoke—is your true scent. Just yours, like he’d known it would be. He kisses your forehead. You giggle. 
 “I did what you said,” you whisper loudly. “It worked! I just said, um, that I never smoked, but then I ate the cookie—two cookies, I think. Maybe more?” The story devolves into meaningless ramble that leaves Ari laughing. 
 “I’m glad you’re having a good time, Kitten.” 
 “So this is the mate.” A lanky Alpha with a joint in a rather fancy looking cigarette holder appraises Ari, his other hand resting on his hip. He offers it to shake. “Adrian. The pleasure is yours.” Ari shakes it. “We did try to keep her out of the pool but she made some very convincing arguments.” 
 “I see,” Ari replies, chuckling as you give a stout nod from the pool. “She does have a habit of getting her way.” The resulting pout that forms on your full lips is worth the half-truth. You make your way toward the pool ladder, slipping once before finding your footing. You’re sopping wet, water running in rivulets down your soft skin. Up close, the swimsuit you’re wearing is even smaller, the fabric straining to hold back the supple flesh of your breasts. 
 Ari clears his throat, and Adrian snickers. He shoots the other male an irritated look, but Adrian only grins. 
 “I packed you a to-go bag, chica. It’s in your purse. You crazy kids have a good night.” He winks, and you wave absently.
 “You too, Adrian!” You turn back to Ari. “He’s nice, right?”
 “Yeah,” he replies, dragging his eyes up from the curve of your hip where the tie is sinking sinfully into the soft skin there. “Nice. Where did you get this?” He fingers the spaghetti thin strap at your shoulder. Sabrina sidles up next to you with a knowing grin, looping her arm around your shoulders. 
 “Well, I couldn’t let her just jump in, Ari.” He levels an annoyed glare at her. “What kind of cousin would I be if I let your mate ruin her nice clothes?” You gasp exaggeratedly. 
  “Cousin?”
 “First or second, or something like that,” Ari grumbles. She laughs.
 “Remind me to tell you the worm story,” she replies conspiratorially, clapping you on the back. “You go get your clothes.” 
 “I’ll be right back,” You press a kiss to Ari’s cheek. He can’t help but watch you walk away, the damp fabric wedging itself neatly between the cheeks of your ass. God-fucking-dammit. 
 “It reeks out here,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “You’d better not be turning my mate into a pothead. I don’t want to have to get into weed distribution, you know how messy that is.” Sabrina waves a hand dismissively. 
 “Nonsense. Thad’s got a great thing going on with Rogers and Barnes on the east coast. He can cut you in if you want.” She winks. “I like her, you know. Genuinely had no idea she was, um. Yours.” Ari smiles, in spite of himself. 
 “It’s hard not to love her.” 
 Ari opts to wait out front, and he isn’t out there long before you stumble out clutching your purse. Your shirt is unbuttoned and untucked from your skirt, exposing the swimsuit you’re still wearing underneath. You look up at him apologetically through your lashes.
 “Thank you for coming, Ari, I’m sorry—”
 “Don’t be, Kitten,” he chuckles, helping you down the steps toward the car. “I’m glad you had a good time.” 
 You loose a high pitched giggle. “I had so-oo much fun. S-Sabrina’s so nice! She said she wants to hang out more. And—” You gasp, turning to him with a suspicious glare. “She said you put worms in her hair.” Ari laughs, shaking his head as he opens the passenger side door. “How could you do that?”
 “I’ll bet she didn’t tell you she dumped cat litter on my head the week before,” he replies, shutting the door before you can respond. He can see that you’re talking anyway, chirping brightly to yourself as Ari rounds the front of the car. He’s not quite sure why, but the sight of it makes his heart swell, even as he shakes his head. 
 “—gross!” You finish, looking at him definitively. 
 Ari slides into the drivers seat, nodding. “It was.” 
 “Will we come back for the Jeep?” You ask in a small, guilty voice. “I like the Jeep.” Ari nods, chuckling.
 “I promise.” The stoned, dopey smile you shoot him in response makes Ari wonder just how many “cookies” you’d eaten. You slump lazily in the passenger seat, stretching like a cat as he pulls out of the driveway. You sit there, blissfully unaware of the way that fucking bikini is eating away at his nerves. You drag a hand across your bare midsection, absently playing with the loose bikini strings.
 Of course you can’t see the way the edges of your dark, puffy nipples spill just over the edges of the triangular scraps of fabric. Sabrina’s attempt to help you maintain your modesty has done exactly the opposite, leaving you so indecently exposed that Ari finds himself wondering how the soft, plump lips of your cunt even fit in the bottoms. 
  God-fucking-dammit.
 Ari knows he should be focusing on the sparsely populated road, on the hour long drive it will take to get you home— not on the way he can see the pebbled outline of your perfect fucking nipples through that flimsy excuse for a bathing suit. Ari dares to glance in your direction again and groans quietly. You’re running your hands along your bare thighs, giggling and gasping at the sensation of your palms on your own skin. 
 “Ari, I didn’t know I was this soft,” you mumble, your eyes wide and pupils dilated. “Did you know that?” 
 He scrubs a hand down his face. 
 “Jesus, Kitten, you trying to kill me tonight?” He moans, dropping his head back against the seat. You lean over the middle console, an apology already on your trembling lips. 
 “I’m sorry.” It’s like you’re completely unaware of it, the thrall you have him in as you rest a warm little hand on his thigh. “How can I make it better?” 
  Martine’s fine at the house with Liam, right?
 —
  “Oh-oh God!” Your face is hidden, pressed against the hood of the car. Ari has your trembling legs spread as far apart as he can manage, his cock disappearing between the cheeks of your ass. “F-feels— oh— ” You’re even less articulate than usual, your sopping, needy cunt squeezing down around him like a vise. 
 Ari’s got your little white skirt rucked up around your waist, and the offending bikini pulled to the side so he can watch you take him. Seeing your pussy stretched open wide and straining around the veiny length of his cock is almost as good as feeling it. Ari doesn’t resist the urge to crack the palm of one hand against the cheek of your ass. You squeal, and God the way you fucking clench down is almost enough to make him bust right there—
 “Ari!” His name sounds like a desperate prayer on your lips. You’re practically writhing underneath him, your hands forming little fists on the hood of the Bentley. “G-God, feels—” He loves you like this, the words all gibberish on your loose tongue. “Fuck!”
 He especially likes it now that you’re high, hoarse curses falling from your lips as you raise yourself up onto your tip toes trying to meet his thrusts. It’s like some of your carefully crafted filter has come apart, allowing through the Kitten that isn’t afraid of judgment or reprisal. 
 “M’so full,” you whine pathetically, peering over your shoulder at him pleadingly. “More?” He isn’t expecting your breathy, perfect little plea, and the softly uttered request seems to go straight to his cock, and it throbs hard inside you. Ari groans, his head lolling back on his shoulders as he stares unseeingly at the night sky. “More, please.”
 The knot at the base of his cock is already starting to swell, and Ari clenches his teeth. Bracing one hand between your shoulders as he anchors the other to your hip. 
 “More, Kitten?” He asks, chuckling darkly. “Greedy girl. Can you even take more?” Ari draws back until the head of his cock pops out, and he slaps it wetly against your cunt. Slowly, he presses himself into the fucked-swollen mess of your pussy. He doesn’t stop when you begin straining against his knot, murmuring dark words of encouragement. 
 “You asked for this,” he reminds you, grinning when your forehead hits the hood with a thunk, and you let out a muffled cry. Ari joins you, a harsh growl tearing from his throat as his knot pops inside. “That enough, Kitten?” He asks through clenched teeth. “Your hungry fucking pussy finally full, Sweetheart?” 
 You push back against him, a lewd squelch filling both your ears. That’s enough of an answer for Ari. He growls, clamping down on the back of your neck with one hand as his fingers sink deep into the meat of your hip. His thrusts are shorter now, but fuller , and each one leaves you mewling and crying.   His whole world is condensing down to a single point. You’re all that matters, you, this moment, his cock buried in your slick, sweet core—
 “Oh f-fuck, God, Ari, c-cumming—” The nonsense that you manage to string together only barely precedes the way your cunt clamps deliciously around him like a hot wet fist. The pleasurable buzzing in the back of Ari’s skull becomes unbearable, traveling down his spine and shooting like electricity to the base of his cock. 
 Ari groans, bending over your back to sink his teeth into your shoulder, holding you still while he cums. He still doesn’t know how to explain how right it feels to press inside you and let go—like he’s supposed to. Fuck and the feel of you—Ari groans as you shift, your velvet walls shifting against his still hard cock. He leans back, releasing you so that he can stare appreciatively at your cunt.  Lips bulged out from the heavy girth of his knot, a mixture of both your fluids leaking out around it. 
 You peek over your shoulder at him, your hair sticking to your sweaty forehead. Your eyebrows are creased together, your glassy eyes shining with real worry. 
 “Ari?”
 “What’s the matter, Kitten?”
 “I think I left my phone.” 
  end
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avvail-whumps · 11 months
Text
‘guns for hire’ — target practice #15
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content warnings: past whipping mention, multiple whumpers, mentioned gun violence/threat, manhandling
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Getting up from the comfort of his bed was difficult. Not only could he feel the looming threat of Roy hanging over his shoulders, but the brief encounter he’d had with other mercenaries was making his stomach pool with dread. Roy by himself was a terrifying force; now there were more like him, and the secretary found himself hesitant to even leave his room. 
His back was throbbing, and he’d even considered digging the crutches back out to take away some of the lingering pain. The thought of being that defenceless again wasn’t sitting right with him, however, so he decided against that idea. 
The painkillers were taking the unbearable edge off, and when he’d hobbled over to the window, he could see the strangers outside. All four of them, and from the looks of it, they’d set up a few sturdy, human shaped targets. When Leo looked further on, he could see a big crate filled with what he could only assume was guns. 
He swallowed, backing away before somebody could see him. 
Roy wasn’t outside, which meant he could possibly still be in the house. Leo wasn’t pleased with the idea, but he wanted to stay as far away from the strangers as he could. 
Tugging Roy’s jacket on, he let the sleeves engulf his hands, gripping tightly onto the ends, and finally breached the hallway. 
It was quiet. 
Even as he strained his ears to get a relative idea of where the mercenary could be, there was only silence that followed. He swallowed uneasily, trying not to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He could only assume what he looked like after what happened in the basement. He didn’t want to feel any worse than he already did. 
Silently sliding down the stairs, Leo let his eyes briefly flicker around. The sunlight was streaming in through the windows, and everything could almost be mistaken as normal. He softly bit the inside of cheek, gently pushing the kitchen door open. 
Luckily for him, it was empty. 
He gratefully closed the door behind him with a relieved sigh, his shoulders sinking. His eyes swiftly snapped to the clock above the cupboards. Making food for six people was going to take some time, so Leo was glad he managed to grit his teeth through the pain and get up out of bed when he did. 
It was difficult to bend down into the lower cupboards, and he found his eyes watering from the pain each time. He didn’t want to remember the lick of the whip against his skin, but the memories resurfaced unwillingly each time, and it made his stomach curl with nausea. He didn’t know much about whipping, but he was praying it wouldn’t leave any scars. 
He bit back his train of thought, popping the cupboards and drawers open so he could decide what to cook. It’d have to be something he could make a big portion of in bulk, and his eyes locked onto a can of chopped tomatoes. He gently took it in his fingers, setting it down on the countertop. 
He wondered if he’d make something they didn’t like; what would he do if they didn’t like Spaghetti Bolognese? 
He sniffled, taking out a couple pans. 
Leo pressed his lips into a thin line, his bottom one still sore to the touch. Anxiety was rushing through his veins, and he could feel stress pricking at the back of his neck already. Some part of him wanted Roy to walk through those doors right now, maybe say something nice like he used to, even if it wasn’t genuine. Leo would’ve really liked to hear something nice right now. 
He eyed some thyme and bay leaves, forcing himself to start cooking. He set the mince in the pan, preparing the pasta for later, deciphering how much he really needed. Time seemed to fly when he started cooking, and when he glanced at the clock, he was worried they were going to walk through the door and demand why the table wasn’t set with food yet. 
The smell of beef and tomato wafted through the kitchen, and Leo found himself putting the pasta on. He numbly set the plates along the table, fingers fumbling for the cutlery to go with it. 
Leo must have been so distracted by the task, that he hadn’t even heard the door clicking open. His only indication another person had entered was a brief shadow in the corner of his eye, which made him flinch back instinctively and almost stagger on his feet.
With a sinking realisation, the secretary noticed it wasn’t Roy that had come in. 
It was one of the other strangers, the one who he briefly recognised as the man who’d been carrying the pack of beers in his grasp. He was looking at him with piercing eyes, expression unreadable underneath his sharp features. His brown hair seemed to be quite long, but when he turned his head aside to glance at the pans on the stove, Leo eyed the bun it was curled up into on the back of his head. 
“Bolognese?” The man murmured, and Leo’s eyes widened in panic. 
“I’m sorry,” he breathed out, his eyes darting from him to the pan. “I didn’t know if…if you don’t like it, I…” 
His throat closed up, and Leo anxiously wrung his fingers together as he analysed the man’s stoney expression. He just seemed to shake his head slowly, staring at the pan. 
“It’s fine,” he grumbled. “I’ll have a smaller plate. And you should give Bran the biggest. He’s the big guy with the scar.” 
Leo didn’t quite know what to say, so he stiffly nodded his head. 
His nerves were shot, and yet for some ridiculous reason, he really wanted Roy to be here. He felt this horrible uncomfortableness creeping down his spine, and all he could think about was how relieved he would feel if Roy was standing between them. That was ridiculous, wasn’t it? Because out of everybody here, it was Roy that had hurt him the most. 
As Leo stiffly stirred the mince in the pan, the other man softly cleared his throat. 
“Sorry.” 
The secretary risked a glance. 
“I found you, so I feel like I was responsible for getting you in trouble with Roy.” 
Leo swallowed, his throat bobbing. He recalled his voice in the darkness, the chill he’d felt sinking into the pits of his heart when he knew he’d been spotted. 
“I think his pet got out.” 
He anxiously chewed on his lip, forcing his eyes back onto the pan. He was mindlessly stirring now, his head a million miles away. He wasn’t going to tell the man it was okay, because it made a spitfire of frustration spark in chest that he had the gall to try to apologise to him, as disingenuous as it might be. 
He went to move onto the pasta wordlessly to test if it was ready, when the door slammed open with a cracking bang.
Leo flinched, wrenching his head around as the man who he’d described as a ‘big guy’ came barreling in, his lip curved into a smug grin and laughter still dying on his tongue. He was definitely someone who could knock Leo to the ground with a single hit, and he found himself gripping onto the edge of the countertop out of fear. His steely grey eyes instantly pinned him down, and a snort fell from his lips. 
“That Roy’s jacket?” He scoffed, a twisted chuckle escaping him as he motioned to the other quiet man. He didn’t seem phased by the man’s entrance, simply looking at him with the same unreadable expression. “What are you, his fucking boyfriend?” 
The other man finally seemed to frown. “I thought you were busy in the range.” 
“I am,” the man, Bran, chuckled, leaving the door wide open behind him. “I came to find a better target.”
Leo almost shrank in on himself when he stalked closer, and he could easily recognise the scar going down his cheek. He eyed the food with a sneer, nose wrinkling in annoyance. 
“Bolognese?” 
Bran took the pan by the handle, and scooped some of the mince onto a spoon. Leo’s throat was too closed up to say anything when he ate a mouthful, and he even found himself shuffling away subtly to create some more distance between them. He was so imposing, his body broad and full, and Leo had the feeling he could lash out violently at him whenever he pleased, and he’d be unable to do anything about it.
His eyes slid towards the door, some part of his mind hoping Roy would walk through there any moment. 
Bran’s lip curled into a sneer, and he instantly strode over towards the bin. 
“Tastes like shit,” he hissed under his breath, and Leo’s heart leapt up into his throat as he watched the contents spill into the bottom of the bag. He’d even lurched forward, his eyes wide in fear. 
“No!” He cried, stuttering to a stop as his mouth dried out. Bran’s eyes snapped towards him, and there was something dangerous flashing in that narrowed gaze. Leo didn’t dare look, staring hopelessly at the now empty pan, slick with sauce. 
“No?” He echoed, a slight growl to the edge of his voice. 
Leo hugged the jacket, his mouth quivering open in an attempt to say something. The word had blurted straight from his chest before he could even think, and hot dread was stabbing mercilessly at his heart as the big man straightened up, the pan clattering against the countertop. Bran’s lip quirked into a strained smirk, eyeing him up and down. 
“You say something?” 
Leo instantly began shaking his head, his words dying on his tongue. He could only manage a choked breath in response, making Bran nod his head. 
“You’ll make for some good target practice then, huh?” He smirked, and Leo had barely even made it around the corner of the table before the man strolled towards him, and seized his wrist in a terrifyingly tight grasp. Leo gasped in pain, and was hardly even able to gain the strength in his legs before he was being dragged towards the kitchen door. 
The other man went to switch the stove off, taking the pan of pasta off as he watched them with sharp eyes. “I don’t know if Roy’s going to be happy with that.” 
Bran whipped around, and the roughness of his grasp reminded him of the night of the escape. He’d been the one who’d dragged him out from behind the car, and into Roy’s awaiting arms. He froze still, feet planted into the ground, and tried to control the breathing that had picked up to an irregular pace in his chest.
“He ain’t here, is he?” He snarled. “He’s busy. I won’t put too many rounds in him.” 
Leo tried to protest as he was dragged away, but it only seemed to come out as a terrified squeak.
tag list – @unorganisedalienrubbish @d-cs @rabidrabidme @sordayciega @burningkittypoet @whumpawink @mannerofwhump @suspicious-whumping-egg @welcome-to-the-whumpfest @whatwasmyprevioususername @crilex29 @firefly017 @dutifullykrispyland @wibbly-wobbly-whump @there-will-always-be-blood @anonintrovert @justawhumpjunkie @whumptastic-world @ha-ha-one @whatwhumpcomments @whumpterful-beeeeee
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kayvsworld · 5 months
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unfortunately i miss the mcu so much </3
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yellowloid · 4 days
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only way i'm accepting the apology video that's no doubt going to come from watcher in the next few days is if ryan and shane decide to throw steven out altogether
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iggy-hands · 2 years
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Stede rescues the crew from the island, they pile into that dinghy like it's a clown car
They search for a little while, but the show's logic of "you can easily find anything you're looking for" fails them. Blackbeard doesn't want to be found.
So they decide to regroup at the Republic of Pirates, atleast they might be able to pick up some resources and intel there, maybe even get in a little r and r.
But they still don't have a ship, and Stede can't just buy whatever they need anymore, but what he does still have is his ~charm and wit~ which leads him to conclude, "We'll join a crew! Some dastardly pirate must be looking for some strong and capable sea-men! We're a catch!"
They eventually get wind of some dark, mysterious stranger post up in Spanish Jackie's, looking for only the most competent, experienced, and fearsome of pirates. So of course, Stede feels they're the perfect fit!
They'll join a new crew! Stede can get some real pirating in now that he's not too preoccupied being in charge! They'll be so successful at plundering and pillaging that they'll surely have enough for their own ship in a matter of weeks! Maybe the captain will be so impressed with them that he'll give them his ship!
So Stede strides over to the dark corner indicated to him. He may not have the full "Gentleman Pirate" ensemble anymore, but he carries himself like he does - first impressions are important! - the rest of the crew trailing hesitantly behind.
He reaches the table at which the man sits, still in shadow. "I hear you're looking for a crew...!" Stede announces, only the slightest quiver in his voice, he really has come a long way.
The man let's out a deep, rasping sigh as he slowly picks up his bottle and swallows down the remaining liquid. He lifts the bottle high over his head and - all of a sudden a loud SMASH as he brings the bottle swiftly down and it connects with the edge of the table, shards of glass spraying everywhere as the man springs forward. Stede stumbles back but he can't get far, inadvertently penned in by the crew around him. The sharp edge of the glass is pressed to the side of his neck, his eyes squeezed shut in anticipation-
"Stede. Fucking. Bonnet." snarls out Izzy Hands.
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destiel-wings · 1 year
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fanfic writers are just tv writers that aren't getting paid
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reineyday · 1 year
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do u think benoit blanc would know who batman is
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rattycattyfanfic · 2 months
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applying for new jobs is so emotionally fraught ha ha it's either depressing more of the same or worse, or oh cool exciting job that will inevitably disappoint me when i hear nothing back!
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somebirdortheother · 1 year
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Nossë-Verse, Let's Play a (Love) Game, Snippet
A little snippet of what's coming for the Rings of Power Valentines Week 2023 from @coraleethroughthelookingglass and I ...
She’d never known herself to be the jealous type - there was no need to even consider it before - and the sudden spike of hot anger she almost wanted to direct at Hal surprised her. Taking another glance around the bar, Galadriel couldn’t help but think there had to be some reason why Mordor was full of twenty-somethings in high heels and tight skirts with more makeup and polish than I’ve had in over a decade, but the only thing spinning around in her mind was that it was part of Hal’s recruitment process and that made her even more incensed.
Is that really how he hires?
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eheheehhee heeheh ehehe
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boxofbonesfic · 2 years
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Title: New Hire [2]
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, Obsessive behavior, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Ari, Dubcon, Darkfic, Breeding, Smut, MINORS DNI, Dead dove: Do not eat
A/N: @cocobutterqwueen strikes again, smh. pretty sure this is the second time i’ve turned a oneshot into a series on account of her, lmao. fair warning, i don’t know where this is going, but i hope you’ll enjoy getting there as much as i do. floral 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 😘
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Even in dreams, the steady rocking motion of your body makes itself known. Through the runny watercolor of your subconscious, you’re aware of the back and forth, the quiet whisper of the sheets on your skin. 
 “That’s it.” 
Ari’s low voice drags you out of unconsciousness, and you slam back into your body, suddenly overwhelmed with sensation as his thick cock slides back into you. 
 “Good morning, Kitten,” he rasps, dragging his teeth down the side of your throat as you whine at the fullness inside of you. “Couldn’t wait.” His hair falls into his eyes as he grins at you. He loops his arm underneath your thigh, angling himself deeper as you gasp and moan. 
 “Ari!”
 You don’t know how long he’s been at it, but your body already feels wound up tight like a spring as he continues to work you over. You should be used to it by now, it’s how he’s woken you up every day for the last week. It’s like he’s starving for you, his hand buried in your hair as his teeth scrape against the still-new mark at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. 
 His thick cock punches the air from your lungs in a strained moan, and you feel him chuckle against your skin.
 “Fucking cunt’s so perfect, Kitten,” he says in a voice like black honey. “Could stay in my pussy all day.” Despite yourself, you clench down around him at his words, and Ari looses a ragged groan. “That’s it, baby,” he pants. “Fuck.” He’s already so big that you feel the stretch of him every time, regardless of how often he’s you, and you can already feel the base of his cock swelling with his knot, forcing you open even. 
 You’re not sure if you’re pleading for him to stop or continue as his name drips from your lips like a blasphemous prayer. 
 “Ari, Ari, Ari—” You cum with a pitiful whine, digging your fingernails into the thick muscles at his shoulders, your thighs squeezing his hips as you writhe underneath him. Ari growls, baring his teeth as he bears down, the frayed cord of his restraint snapping. 
 “M’gonna fill you up how you need, Kitten,” his voice is low and guttural, fingers digging in to the meat of your hips as he ruts into you. “You want that, don’t you, Omega? Keep you nice and full of me, just like you deserve—” Ari slams into you so hard you squeal, tearing at the bedsheets underneath you as his knot pops into you, sealing the two of you together as he cums, hard. Ari presses his face into your throat, his beard rasping against your skin while his teeth slot neatly into the puncture wounds he’d left behind. 
 With a pathetic whine you cum again, a strangled gasp escaping your throat. Ari’s pleased growl vibrates against your skin, and you lay there beneath him, panting in the aftermath. When he pulls away from you, you can faintly scent the copper on his breath before he drops his lips to yours, kissing you. 
 “Morning,” he says again, and you squeak out a quiet “morning” in response before you hide your face against his shoulder. He chuckles breathlessly. “Shy, Kitten?”
 You can’t help the embarrassment that heats your cheeks as you nod, unable to look him in the eye. You’re still not used to it, the intimacy. Even though it’s been a week since Ari moved you out of the guest room and into his, it still feels… surreal. Ari drops a kiss on the tip of your nose, before rolling onto his back, bringing you with him, sitting lewdly astride his lap with his cock still wedged inside of you. You grab for the sheets as he rolls over with a deep, sated sigh. 
 Ari drags his hands up and down your sides, and slowly flexes his hips into yours, laughing softly, when you cover your face with your hands. 
 “No, Kitten. Don’t hide from me.” Gently, he pulls your hands away, and you’re forced to look him in the eye. “Not so bad, right?” He gifts you with another languorous thrust, and you whine when his knot pulls at your cunt. 
 “N-no,” you mumble, your face burning. “I just… this is new, I never…” You swallow thickly. Aside from clumsy teenage fumbling that left you feeling guilty and unsatisfied, you’d never really been with anyone. Your father had quite seen to that. In fact, you could scarcely remember your “first time”, a painful, ten minute affair with one of the Beta boys from the neighborhood you’d been sweet on. “I never really had a boyfriend.”
 Ari cups your chin. “I’m not your boyfriend, Kitten.” He swipes his finger across the fullness of your bottom lip. “I’m your mate.” The rings on his fingers glint in the low bedroom light. “And I’m going to take care of you.” 
 “Are you?” The question pops from your lips before you can swallow it down. You remember the way your father took care of your mother, how she worked herself half to death while he drank and smoked and fucked away her efforts. How she’d died, alone in that hospital because your father was too blitzed to drive—
 “I’m a man of my word.” Ari says, furrowing his brow and cocking his head at you questioningly. “Have I ever lied to you?” 
 “I—no,” you admit. You feel your hindbrain preen as he strokes the apple of your cheek. Alpha is strong, it murmurs, just beneath the noise of your thoughts. Protects us. “But I’m… I’m scared, Ari. I, I don’t know you, a-and we’re mated, and—” You’re beginning to hyperventilate, all the ways in which this is wrong,  so wrong are circling in your head. He’s your boss, it’s inappropriate, never should have happened—
 “Hey, hey, Kitten, it’s okay,” he sits up, his softened cock slipping from your oversensitive folds as he presses you to his chest. Ari is so big, even sitting it’s like he towers over you as he wraps his arms around your body. “I know, I know things are new, and different now.” His voice is so soothing, so easy to listen to as he rubs his hand in circles on your back. “Sometimes this is how relationships go, Kitten. The rest will fall into place.” 
 He sounds so sure, it’s hard not to believe him. Your panicked breaths ease as Ari rocks you, his lips soft against your temple. You actually feel… safe. 
 Safe.
 You’re not sure how long you sit there, but your heart rate has eased, and your staccato breaths have returned to normal by the time the pitter patter of little feet outside the door draws your attention. Liam bangs on the door with his tiny fists, and you hear the rumble of Ari’s laughter in his chest. 
 “Daddy,” he calls through the door. “It’s breakfast time, daddy! Are you up yet?”
 “Wait for me in the kitchen, pal,” Ari calls. “We’re going to go out for breakfast.” 
 You manage to disentangle yourself from Ari—which is no small feat, considering how much he likes to touch you—and get into the shower. You make it quick, hopping out just as Ari is about to step in, and his palm cracks loudly against your ass as you scoot by. You yelp, as much from the pain as from the surprise as Ari clucks his tongue at you. 
 “Next time wait for me, Kitten.” He says with a wink. You rub lotion into your skin as you sit on the bed, before slipping into a sundress and sandals. Liam is downstairs waiting patiently, and he beams at you as you enter. 
 “Good morning!” he chirps, his wide grin missing a few teeth. 
 “Morning bud,” you say, crossing the kitchen to the fridge. You pull out the orange juice, and pour some into one of Liam’s brightly colored plastic cups. “Here you go.” He takes it from you, and takes a grateful swallow. “What do we say when someone gives us something, Li?” You ask, cocking your head. 
 “Thank you,” he replies bashfully, his little cheeks reddening. “I, I went to your room this morning but you wasn’t there.” 
 “Weren’t there,” you correct gently, more out of habit than anything. Your own face grows warm at his words, and you find yourself scrambling for an explanation. 
 “Well, um, you see, I, um—”
 “She’s my mate, Liam,” Ari answers easily, and your head snaps up at the sound of his voice. You don’t know how a man as large as Ari manages to move so silently. “We’re all one big family, now, aren’t we?” You’re not sure Liam really comprehends the seriousness of the commitment—one you weren’t even sure if you’d consented to—but he seems pleased just the same, sipping on his orange juice. 
 “Y-yeah,” you reply with a small smile as Ari loops his arm around your shoulders. “Family.” 
 You’re not sure why you’re surprised when Ari parks the Jaguar directly in front of Goldie’s, but you suppose you shouldn’t be. Ari doesn’t do anything small, and that apparently includes breakfast. Goldie’s is a diner—the most popular one in the tristate area. The line stretches around the block, but Ari doesn’t bother finding the end of it. You try to ignore the murmurs of frustration filling the air behind you as Ari pulls open the double doors. 
 “Kevin, good to see you,” he greets the maitre’d with a familiar smile. “Any room for us?” 
 “Always, Mr. Levinson.” Ari grasps your hand, and you hoist Liam on your hip. He’d fallen asleep in the car with his thumb in his mouth, and it was too adorable for you to disturb him just yet, even for the waffles he’d been promised. Ari squeezes your hand, before leaning down to murmur in your ear.
 “You’re such a good mother, Kitten.” 
 The complement makes your cheeks warm even as your stomach fills with hot lead. This wasn’t what I signed up for. Your conflicted thoughts won’t move from your mind, no matter how hard you shove at them, and as you settle the boy in the booth, he pops his thumb from between his lips and gives you a sleepy smile.
 “Thank you.”
 Your heart clenches. You do love Liam… Ari isn’t wrong about that. Ari sits across from the two of you. 
 “What are you hungry for, Kitten?” He slides you one of the menus with a wink. “On me.” 
 You open it, and begin scanning the items. Everything is expensive, all fancy, overwrought versions of staple items. 
 It looks amazing. 
 You’d never been anywhere like this before, not that you could remember. Your parents hadn’t had the spare funds for much—sometimes, not even groceries. And nights out had consisted of the drive thru, or if you were especially lucky, Chinese from the shop a few blocks away. This was… entirely new. It makes you feel… strangely inadequate. After all, what kind of person’s never been out to eat before? 
 “Um, this looks good.” You point at something underneath the section labeled Tried and True. Ari nods his approval at your choice. You glance down at Liam. “What are you getting?”
 “Waffles!” He’s as decisive as his father. “Dad promised.”
 “You’re right,” Ari’s warm laughter fills your ears. “I did.” When the waitress returns, he orders for everyone, checking that nothing’s changed. “That’s right, isn’t it Kitten?”
 “Y-yeah, that’s, um. That’s it.” From your bag, you produce one of Liam’s coloring books and a pack of crayons, which he accepts and thanks you for without prompting. You busy yourself asking him about his drawing—it’s easier than acknowledging Ari, who watches the two of you with a pleased expression. 
 So he does it for you.
 “Kitten.” His hand covers yours and you’re forced to look up, meet Ari’s cool gaze. “Your family name—your father’s name, it’s Randolph, isn’t it?” He asks, and you swallow thickly, nodding. There’s no use lying to Ari, and you know it. It’s like he can smell the dishonesty on your breath whenever you try. 
 “Yes. I have my mother’s maiden name, though.” You wonder if he can feel your relief at that through the bond. It’s been almost a year since you’d left your father’s house—run away, really. But you were grown, had been grown for years. So even when the cops found you in that shitty apartment before Ari, all they could do was tell you your father was looking for you and ask for permission to share your location, which you hadn’t given them. 
 You don’t like talking about your father. Even before last week when Ari had snapped after the amusement park, you kept the mentions of your past vague and uninteresting, unworthy of further questioning. You hadn’t hidden anything, either; Ari knew your real name, your phone number, previous addresses. It was certainly enough to get more information about you if one had the resources at their disposal.
 What resources did Ari have at his disposal?
 Breakfast is delicious, and by the time you make it back to the car you feel overfull, but sated. You climb into the passenger seat after making sure that Liam is buckled in safely, and you don’t jump when Ari rests his palm on your knee through your dress. He rubs tender circles with his thumb as he navigates out of the crowded parking lot and out onto the road. 
 “Did you have a good time, Kitten?” He purrs, and you nod, your breath catching in your throat a little.
 “Yes, it was really nice, Ari. Thank you.” 
 “You don’t need to thank me, sweetheart. It’s what I should be doing for you.” He gives your thigh an affectionate little squeeze. “That reminds me. I have something for you.” The lopsided grin on his handsome face sets butterflies swirling in your stomach. “Well, two things. Glove compartment for one, my wallet for the other.” He fishes the dark leather wallet out of his pocket, and tosses it into your lap. “I had a card printed for you. Now you won’t even have to ask.” 
 The thick black card is metal and heavy, and there’s a gold chip glinting at the other end of it. Your name is printed in raised block letters on the front, and you run your thumb across it. It feels strangely serious as you slip it into your own wallet, almost afraid to open the glove compartment next. 
 “That’s the real gift,” Ari replies jokingly, nudging you with his elbow as he turns off of the freeway. “You can buy whatever you like, Kitten.” It’s unsettling being handed the keys to the proverbial kingdom—you’re not even sure what to do with them. You know Ari’s…wealthy, though you’ve no idea what his paychecks or… anything look like. 
 “Ari—”
 “Open your other present, Kitten.” In the glove compartment is a long, slim jewelry box. Even the velvet covering on the outside feels expensive, and when you crack it open with nervous fingers, the delicate gold chain inside winks at you from the white satin cushion. You only briefly wonder if it’s real—knowing Ari, it certainly is. Gently, you stroke it with the pads of your fingers. 
 “Do you like it?”
 “Ari, it’s beautiful.” The pendant hanging from the chain is shaped like a sitting cat, inside a heart. It’s the nicest piece of jewelry you own—everything else you have is gaudy and costume-y, things you’d grabbed from stalls at the mall when you took Liam with you to pick things up. Ari smiles at you, squeezing your knee again. 
 “I’m happy, Kitten.” 
 The Jaguar rounds the corner into the private drive leading up to the house. The gate slides open at the car’s approach, and you glance back at Liam, who is wide awake and flipping through one of the simple books you’d been reading with him. The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe was Liam’s latest fascination, and you all were currently right in the middle. You stifled a quiet giggle as you watched him carefully avoid flipping past the brightly colored bookmark—so as not to spoil himself with the illustrations. 
 What a good kid.
 Ari’s low mutter draws you from your thoughts, his tension arcing sharply through the bond. 
 “What the fuck?” It’s so low Liam doesn’t hear it, but you do, your eyes snapping up to his face. Ari looks surprised, yes, but angry too, and you follow the line of his vision to—
 “Stay in the car, Kitten.” You nod wordlessly at his order—he hadn’t even needed to make it an Alpha command, you would have obeyed him either way. Your stomach clenches and rolls, and your mouth won’t move as Liam leans forward in his seat, tugging on your elbow.
 “What’s the matter?” He asks, his little voice muffled through the ringing in your ears and the rush of your blood. You can’t answer him, no sound comes out of your mouth as you stare at the man through the windshield, and he waves at you around Ari’s stern shoulder. 
 “Well aren’t you all grown up, darlin’?” You’re not fast enough at rolling up the windows, and even as Ari blocks his view, you hear his smug laughter. “What,” he says loudly in protest as he tries to skirt around your mate. 
 “Can’t a man see his daughter?”
 to be continued…
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Hello friends! I no longer maintain a taglist, so please follow @box-of-bones-library​ for updates and new work, thank you!
Likes and comments are amazing, but reblogs are golden! Please consider sharing my work so that others can see it too!
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smolalienbee · 2 years
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why yes i am in fact procrastinating writing a new game by, well. writing a disco elysium fanfic in style of the game’s writing.
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crossbackpoke-check · 2 years
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Dylan Larkin has become an Au Pair for the Summer.
is that not exactly what quinn’s summer insta post said?? “hanging out with the boys & our cool au pair”?? :))) the way i have a note from a MONTH AGO written on my phone that says
one of our swim instructors is so so good with kids and he’s the perfect victim for scenarios so basically everyone’s in love with him and what i’m SaYiNg is summertime melted ice cream sticky sunscreen pool au with WHO i have a craving
like are you in my notes app. have you got my google docs password. because besTIE!! you have given me a gift!!! dylan larkin babysitter extraordinaire that’s who.
mind is frantically brrring trying to decide if competent & capable au pair dylan falls in love with the DNR worker at the park he always takes the kids to OR with the hot father figure whose kids he takes care of,,, 🤪
#liv in the replies#should also mention i am absolutely obsessed with this steve/billy nanny/lifeguard fic which like. thanks i’ll take that in a baker’s dozen#and is the reason i have the craving in the first place besides the fact that everyone really is a little bit in love with this swim teacher#if you didn’t know the hot dad is henrik & i am incredibly tempted to completely ignore the canon in favor of a canon i can work with#which is henrik saying he’d be a billet dad to two (?) new rookies (y’know. mo played in rögle i can swing it also ray ray is swedish 👀)#and then completely not realizing how much help he would need to take care of the kids so he hires au pair dylan#who is working his way through college @ umich as an au pair (he can’t live in during the school year bc class but if it’s summer… live in)#yes the DNR worker is bert who else would it be i’m also stating for the record that there’s a bike park so bert can bandage the kids’ knees#it is incredibly tempting to keep dylan’s kids as the ragtag usntdp crew & have him travel around to different houses working himself#to the bone taking care of the kids until someone finally notices & takes care of HIM (am i projecting a little captaincy here absolutely)#dylan working an overnight shift babysitting quinn & jack & luke & he was up till three am bc jack was scared of the thunderstorm#& turning around to get cole ready to go to summer camp by 7 then picking up trevor after he drops cole off & taking him to the park (does#dyl nearly fall asleep & panic that he’s lost trevor?) dark circles under his eyes but he’s gotta do the work it’s fine he loves the kids#brain magnamoniously said ‘you could also have a dylan/zach pairing’ but declined to provide plot or context so just know that’s an option#dylan dealing with the hughes house shenanigans of all the kids’ parents go away on a trip & dyl spends a month out at the lake house w/them#while their parents are on a cruise & OH neighbor??? hot neighbor??? (hot neighbor can be a dilf OR a dick with a heart of gold) (either way#the kids help matchmake & i do keep saying kids with the implication that they’re de-aged a lil bit for logic purposes quinn can be ten he’s#the oldest and responsible & his little solemn face helping dylan make mac n cheese is priceless to me oh i love it so then age-wise…#jack is 9? zeegs is also 9 & so is cole luke is the baby he’s six & honestly that’s perf the boys are old enough they can do some things but#too young to be left on their own so actually i’ve fallen in love with this mo & lucas can be other kids on the lakeeeee they’re friends w/)#& the kids all get together & want to have play dates & spend time together so that’s how dyl gets to know the hot neighbor#still have not decided whomst i want if you’ve made it this far in the tags please weigh in there is the convincing argument of ray ray#imprinting like a lil duckling on bert during the season but also henrik wears cable knit sweaters & he’s a dilf & that’s the argument#fully also the valid option of t-rated babysitting shenanigans slice of life w/vague flirtations dyl’s milk shaking all the boys to the yard#have just considered. bert has a baby. i could give bert a baby in this. we’re not gonna DO IT but we all just know this right#he could have little pigtails that match his baby’s with scrunchies & i hate it here i’m making it UP it’s not real it can’t hurt me#also hope u all know z’s ass is getting roasted there WILL be a scene of them playing king of the hill on a big lake mat &mo destroys z ktfo#moritz seider may not be dylan’s child in this but he will most certainly be the author’s favorite child in this & you will be able to know#also sorry not sorry to be like this but au pairs getting monthly pocket money… come and show me how it’s done… 😵‍💫dylan sugar baby send twe#also also: dylan foreign exchange coming to live in sweden with henrik & being his au pair & henrik can still play hockey 😗 mo & lucas too
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beeapocalypse · 3 months
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MAX MUSTERMANN 💥💥
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rahabs · 5 months
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Wide awake at 5 AM stressing about money.
#Ahahaha. Hahaha.#Bills?? Bills.#Mortgages and condo fees and vet bills and more vet bills and food prices#Insurance and taxes and no incoming income.#EI barely giving anything and no callbacks for any jobs#Savings depleting#And I know I should cancel my damn dance lessons but they make me happy#They get me out of the house fuckingg DOING something other than crying in the dark#Even if I can’t afford them.#God I am just.#I am so close to having to beg for money like.#I didn’t think it would take me? this long to find a new job.#I have applied to so many and had professionals look over my resume but I am either overqualified or? Not the right fit I guess.#And cursed. The few times I get any callbacks something outside of my control goes wrong.#God but even the jobs I apply for don’t have great money and I just. Fuck#I don’t know what to do. And no one hires in December so I just have to hope January brings SOMETHING but.#I am just so stressed. I cannot sleep. It is all just hitting.#If I didn’t have a roommate I would have sunk months ago but I just. I just.#I wish I was an artist so I could do art commissions. So that I could do something.#All I can offer in exchange for money are fics people don’t read#And professional editing I guess but there are few people who would pay for that in fandom spaces.#Anyway. What a massive failure I am. Ny younger sister is now talking about going to law school and she’d be so much better at being#A lawyer than I ever was but also fuck I don’t want her to go for such selfish reasons because it highlights how much of a fucking#Waste I am. And I am. I can’t get anything and my prospects suck because the idea of going back to private practice law makes me want to??#Die really. Fuck. FUCK I don’t know what to do I am being left behind I am running out of money#text#Chey.txt
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doolallymagpie · 7 months
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something something "the free navy starts falling apart because marco never paid the comstar bill for tying up the HPG network with the chetzemoka in that whole 'tell james holden i am in distress' gambit, and wolf's dragoons sent him quite possibly the biggest bill in their history over nearly getting all of black widow company killed by one very angry lass who cannot die (and specifically giving natasha kerensky something new to have nightmares about)"
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