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lunarticxenia · 1 year

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Astrology Observations #4

Hellooooo I’m back!!!!!

TW: SA mention, Ab*se mention

🌬Gemini suns are the epitome of golden retriever energy.

🌬I’ve noticed a lot of people in the psychology field or with psych degrees tend to have Cancer and/or Virgo placements in their big 6. Either that or strong 4th and 6th house energy. Makes a lot of sense. 4th house= emotions. 6th house= service for others.

🌬Cancer suns are underrated for being leaders, I’ve had so many bosses and higher-ups who have been Cancer suns.

🌬I’ve noticed that homewreckers tend to have a lot of fire/water dominance in their charts, which I think is due to their passion ruling their decisions. I’ve noticed this with cheaters as well. I also think with water placements it comes from insecurity.

🌬Cancer sun women are underrated in terms of sex appeal. My mom said the same thing too so it’s not just me tooting my own horn. Let’s think of some popular Cancer sun celebrities- Pam Anderson, Ariana Grande, Lana Del Rey, Sofia Vergara, Selena Gomez. All have sex appeal and have been sexualized a lot. Cancer sun women do get sexualized a lot. I’m realizing this as I type it. I only notice this in women though, sorry Cancer sun men LMAO. I’m a Cancer sun and I get sexualized for no gd reason.

🌬I’ve noticed that Taurus Venus and Taurus Mars people tend to go for more curvier/voluptuous women.

🌬Peak Aries moon energy is losing interest in someone because they’re not giving you enough attention.

🌬I feel like Cancer suns care a lot about politics and this quality is often overlooked.

🌬I feel like Taurus rising women+ feminine presenting people have like the ultra divine feminine energy. I think it’s because Venus rules their chart, but a lot of Taurus risings I’ve noticed are VERY feminine or have feminine qualities.

🌬Taurus risings and Sagittarius risings tend to be thick LMAO or at least very curvy.

🌬Not really an observation but other aspects in your chart can be very powerful and overshadow qualities you’re “supposed” to have. For example I have two friends who are Aries suns with Libra moons with earth rising, and they are so different. I will say both do have feminine qualities though, like personality wise and physically. Other than that though they’re very different, one is the stereotypical Aries and the other is more like a Pisces.

🌬Idk what’s been going on but I feel like I’ve been encountering so many Libra suns with Sagittarius moons. I don’t know if that’s a common combo, but I’ve been coming across a lot of them lately. (I also work with one). I’ve noticed the men with these aspects are such fuckboys, the women usually aren’t, but the men? Oof.

🌬I’ve noticed a lot of people with Bipolar disorder or BPD tend to have harsh aspects between their sun and moon. I think it’s because those are the two most personal parts of our charts and having them clash can create conflict within.

🌬I feel like a lot of prominent Sagittarius placements get tattoos or wanna get tattoos. P much every Sag placement I’ve known has tattoos or wants to get them.

🌬Libra sun women have nice asses. I SAID IT OKAY. Even if it’s not big it’s a nice shape.

🌬Libra Mars and Cancer Mars tend to have stomach issues, I feel like it’s because we bottle up our anger and it affects our bodies 😂

🌬️I feel like people with their Venus and Mars in the same sign can balance their masculine and feminine energy very well.

🌬️One Virgo placement in the big three can really make someone so anal retentive which ironic bc Virgo rules the bowels… 👀👀👀👀 Even if they’re not like that about cleaning, some aspect in their life they’re very obsessive over… however I do notice it’s cleaning for many. I live with two Virgo risings and I get screamed at for leaving a fork in the sink, y’all scare me…

🌬️Going off of that, Cancer and Libra placements get a lot of crap for being passive aggressive, but y’all need to include Virgos in there. They are so passive aggressive it’s not even funny 😂

🌬️Asteroid Medusa (149) harsh aspects to personal planets can indicate s*xual assault.

🌬️I stg 12th house synastry is so fucking hard, I feel like I see this a lot in relationships that couldn’t get off the ground or where one person is obsessed with the other. I think that makes sense since the 12th house deals with illusions, unclarity, etc. It’s such a deep connection too, when it works it works but when it doesn’t, it really hurts.

🌬️The house that your Midheaven ruling planet falls into can tell you a lot about your career. My midheaven is Virgo which makes the ruler Mercury, and my Mercury falls in my 8th house. This house deals with a lot of taboo and intensity, which makes sense because I work on an inpatient psychiatric unit. I also want to be a psychologist. So there ya go lol.

🌬️Nessus in the 1st/aspects to the 1st can indicate ab*se in the native’s life, whether it’s giving or receiving. It’s very heavy energy. It can also indicate being into some freaky ass shit in the bedroom, alot of adult actors have this in their chart.

🌬️Going off of that, Nessus aspects in a positive manner can make someone who wants to help victims of ab*se, whether they’ve been ab*sed or not themselves.

🌬️If a person has both Nessus and Dejanira in their chart, they may have been a victim of ab*se and maybe ab*sive towards others. With this played out in a more positive manner, it can make someone who was a victim of ab*se want to help other victims. ^^^

🌬️Mutable risings really are chameleons when it comes to their appearance. They can manage to make themselves look like completely different people, i.e. Lady Gaga, Kim Kardashian.

🌬️Algol 26° Taurus aspects to NN can make an individual very stoic and able to handle chaos & negative situations well.

🌬️Prominent Virgo/Mercury placements tend to pick at their skin and enjoy things like popping pimples and stuff lol.

🌬️Asteroids Messalina (545), Swindle (8690), Sirene (1009), Tantalus (2102), and Lie (26955) aspecting Mercury and/or in the 3rd house can indicate someone who’s very good at lying and manipulating others.

🌬️Asteroid Sappho (80) in women/feminine people and Asteroid Ganymed (1036) in men/masculine people having harsh aspects to NN or personal planets can indicate LGBT+ people who heavily struggle with figuring out their sexuality (more so than usual lol).

🌬️I have Asteroid Achilles (588) conjunct my North Node, and that’s the asteroid of where we’re most vulnerable and where our weaknesses are. I feel like that makes sense for me... lol. I tend to let other people tell me how to live my life, and struggle with making decisions for myself. I also have it in the 8th and I tend to struggle with my sexuality. (Kind of a part 2 to the previous bullet?) I also have it in Cancer and I have mommy issues LMAO. I guess this one’s more of a self observation...

I know this isn’t a crazy long post but it feels good to be back lol!

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evansbby · 2 years

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𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲'𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Stepdad!Ari Levinson x bratty!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, stepcest, noncon, dubcon, daddy kink, forced babying, use of petnames, oral - female receiving, face riding, fingering, anal fingering, spanking, coercion, blackmail, dd/lg, dirty talk, dumbification.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your stepdad Ari has a strange obsession with you, but will he listen when you try to confront him about it?

𝐀/𝐍: Wow, it’s me with another surprise Ari fic! I wrote this quickly in the past few hours, and I hope you enjoy. But please read the warnings, Ari is super depraved and twisted in this! Based on this ask and drabble!

“That’s such a pretty dress, honey.” Your stepdad, Ari, compliments you, dabbing the corner of his mouth with the lacy white napkin before folding it up and placing it back on the side of his plate. “It’s nice to see you making such an effort for dinnertime, in a pretty dress instead of those jeans and sweatpants you’re always wearing.”

You scowl but say nothing, your fork pushing your food around your plate while your mother simpers in her seat next to you. She reaches out to pat Ari’s tanned arm, “Oh, Ari. Ever the traditional man, aren’t you? Always preferring girls in dresses.” She laughs, although you find nothing funny about any of this, “Although I must agree with your father, honey – it’s nice to see you make an effort, and you look so lovely in pink.”

“He’s not my father.” You mumble, trying to maintain concentration on the lumpy mashed potatoes on your plate. You’re completely aware that you sound like a bratty child sulking at the dinner table – but you can’t help it.

Ari raises his hand to silence your mother before she launches into a lecture about how you shouldn’t be rude about your stepfather and how Ari may as well be your father with how well he takes care of you.

“Well, it’s a very pretty dress nevertheless. And you’re a very pretty girl.” Ari says, pink tongue running over his lips in a motion so quick that you’re not sure your mother sees it – but you definitely have. “But please stop playing with your food, baby.”

You gape at him in disbelief before turning to your mother – but she’s just looking at Ari in total, blind adoration. Are you the only one who sees how weird he’s being? From the way he looks at you to the overly babying tone with which he speaks to you? And the pet-names? The sugary sweet pet-names that give you a toothache every time they float past his perfect, plump lips?

Wait, what?

“Why don’t you stop treating me like a child?” You shoot back, looking your stepdad right in his clear blue eyes. He blinks, thick lashes fanning his cheekbones while your mother lets out a melodramatic gasp. “I’m a fully grown woman, Ari. I’m in college. Stop treating me like I’m some sort of baby. If you want a baby then just have one.”

There’s an awkward silence followed by a sniff of disgust from your mother. “How dare you speak to your father like that? How dare you? After everything he’s done for you? Letting us move into his house, paying your college fees, buying you whatever you want–”

“I didn’t ask for any of that!” You stand up, knowing you have to take yourself out of the situation before it gets any more out of hand than it already has. You didn’t mean to cause a scene, but you’re just so sick of Ari treating you like you’re a baby. You’re also sick of your mother being so blindly devoted to him as if he’s some sort of God. When really, he’s just… Ari.

Ari, with the big, buff arms and the washboard abs and the long, wavy hair that shines and the bright blue eyes and the lopsided smirk of a smile, and – wait, what?

“You need to learn to be thankful, young lady.” Your mother hisses, “Or else you won’t be welcome to stay in this house during your summer breaks. And we all know how much you love all the perks that come with this place, like the pool, the sauna, the tennis courts – need I go on?”

Sometimes you really hate your mother.

Throughout all this, Ari sits quietly with his arms folded across his chest and an unperturbed look on his face. As if he’s drinking in the conflict between you and your mother, the quirk of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips…

You huff, turning on your heel and hating how the baby pink dress floats and flounces around you. You hate everything about it – it’s not Halloween and you’re not a fairy-princess. You can’t believe Ari had made you wear it. Shuddering, you think back to earlier, when you’d come out of the shower and seen the pink velvet box on your bed, along with a note:

My precious baby girl, wear this dress for me tonight. If you don’t, I’ll tell your mother that you shoplifted from Hollister last weekend. Love, your daddy.

And his audacity to act all surprised when you’d showed up downstairs in the pink monstrosity of a dress. Well, you’d had enough now. Enough of wearing the stupid, uncomfortable dress, enough of Ari, enough of your melodramatic mother, enough of this dinner, enough of just about everything.

You run up the stairs and slam the door to your bedroom without a second thought.

***

Your mother had married Ari last fall while you were still at college. They’d eloped, and you’d come home to a new stepfather. You didn’t care much at first – your mother dated around a lot and you were used to all her different boyfriends.

But Ari was… different. He was younger than your mother, but still almost double your age. He looked like he belonged on some sort of playgirl catalogue – all beefy and tanned and muscular, with an attractive smattering of dark hair all over his chest (you know because he liked roaming around the house shirtless more often than not).

At first, he seemed charming enough, with a nice smile and sparkling eyes. But there was something off in the way he looked at you, how his eyes would linger a bit too long, how he’d use pet names with you that he never used with your mother. How he’d coddle you and baby you and do weird things like wipe your mouth with his handkerchief after you’d eaten ice cream and there’d been some residue around your lips.

And now, the whole dress thing. Admittedly – it’s very weird. Now, you lie on your bed clad in your Led Zeppelin tee and panties, twirling his note in your fingers. You wonder if your mother would finally see that there’s something off about Ari if you showed her the note, or if she’d just turn a blind eye because she thinks her new husband is absolutely perfect? You sigh.

The knock on your door has you rolling your eyes.

“Honey? It’s me.” Ari. You stare at the ceiling and breathe out slowly.

“Go away.”

Your stepdad does the complete opposite, and you curse him for having a master key to every room when you hear the click of your door unlocking before he steps inside, shutting the door behind him.

“I said go away, Ari. Why is it that you can’t respect my privacy?”

“You can’t respect me in my own house, so why should I respect your privacy, honey?” Ari chuckles softly, his chest rumbling with quiet amusement. He’s wearing his light blue button-down shirt, but he’s got the top three buttons undone, giving you a peak of that virile chest hair that you often can’t stop looking at, and –

“Look, Ari, I’m clearly not dressed appropriately,” You gesture down to your tee which barely covers your panties, “So maybe you should get out.”

The older man tsk-tsks; “Honey, how many times have I told you not to call me Ari? It’s disrespectful. I’d much prefer it if you called me Dad.” He smirks, settling down on the side of your bed – alarmingly close to you, “Or daddy. I think I prefer daddy more.”

“I told you, if you want to be a dad so badly, then just have your own baby.” You scoff in disdain, tugging your tee down so it covers more of your legs and cursing when the material’s too short to make any significant difference – why had you chosen to wear such a tiny tee tonight? Oh yes – you hadn’t expected your stepfather to invade your privacy.

“Have my own baby, huh?” Your stepfather looks at you thoughtfully, licking his lips as his hungry gaze drinks you in, “You know, I might just take you up on that offer one day.”

You’re too busy trying to get your dumb shirt to hide more of your legs to really acknowledge the weight of his words, a scowl on your lips and eyes narrowed.

“Why do you insist on wearing such ugly things?” Ari frowns, reaching out to finger the fraying hem of your tattered tee, “Led Zeppelin? That’s not something little girls like you listen to.”

You raise an eyebrow, “You have no idea what I do or don’t listen to.” (Although he’s right – you don’t much care for Led Zeppelin, you’d bought the shirt because it was cheap and had a cool logo, but he doesn’t need to know that.)

“I could buy you such pretty things to sleep in,” Ari murmurs as he continues to stroke the material of your shirt, his fingertips so dangerously close to your skin – and you don’t know why you don’t pull away. “Honey, all you need to do is make me a list of everything you want, and you know I’d buy it all for you and more. Pretty pink silks and lace – that’s what you should be sleeping in. Not this ugly, tattered shit.”

Quickly, before you know what’s happening, he lifts your shirt up slightly, a smirk quickly adorning his handsome features, “I approve of your little girl panties, though. They’re quite cute.”

You bat his hands away, heat rising to your face and goosebumps covering your arms and legs as you inch away from him, “This is so fucking inappropriate, Ari. You need to leave.”

Your stepfather doesn’t budge, instead turning his attention to your room; your dresser which is overflowing with clothes, your vanity table scattered with makeup, the various posters on your wall. He sighs; “You know, I was so excited when I heard you were gonna be staying with us over summer break. I wanted to decorate your room just how a little girl like you would like it – all pink and white and cute.”

Wrinkling your nose, you cross your arms over your chest, “That sounds fucking gross.”

He continues as if he hasn’t heard you: “But your mother said you’d prefer muted colours, beige and white and whatnot. So that’s what we went for.” His hand somehow finds itself resting on your bare thigh, calloused fingers tracing shapes over your sensitive skin, “But we could make the guestroom into your little girl bedroom. What do you think? I’d keep it locked at all times, so your mommy would never have to know.”

The alarm bells in your head are loud and clear, telling you to run, run, run for the hills and never look back because Ari is acting insane right now. You slowly shift away from him, despite the fact that his touch on your leg spreads an inexplicable warmth throughout your body.

“Honey, come here.” Ari’s head snaps up suddenly. Before, he’d been staring at his own fingers as they skimmed over your thigh but now his bright blue eyes are boring into yours and he pats his own leg, “Come sit on daddy’s lap.”

You clear your throat, “Um. No thanks. I’m good here.” You wonder if you can bolt into the bathroom and slip on a pair of leggings just to escape his burning gaze which seems glued to your bare legs.

“Honey. Come here. Now.” There’s an edge to his voice that you don’t want to mess with. You’ve seen him and your mother fight, you’ve seen him angry and it’s not a pretty sight. “Or else I’ll tell your mother about you shoplifting.”

You clear your throat, trying to stand your ground, “Don’t try to blackmail me, Ari. I’ll tell her all about your creepy note you left for me. She’d hate to find out that her husband’s a perv, wouldn’t she?”

The laugh that leaves Ari’s lips is soft yet maniacal, calculated; his eyes squeezing shut for a second before fluttering open and zeroing in on you, “Oh honey. You don’t wanna play that game with me.”

“Oh yeah? What if I do? What if I’m sick of you always hovering over me, acting like some creep? Maybe it’s time mom knew what you really are.”

“My sweet baby girl – you think she’d believe you? You think she’d ruin her perfect suburban fantasy because her bratty daughter decided to act out and tell some lies? You think she’d ever believe anything that comes out of your mouth? Believe anything you say over my word, the word of her husband? Think again, baby girl.”

You bite your lip at the painful truth – your mother’s whole world revolves around Ari.

“You’re a piece of shit.” You mutter in disbelief.

“Get. In. My. Lap.”

He doesn’t give you any further chance to argue, strong hands gripping on to you tightly and pulling you on top of him, till you’re sat on his knee with a scowl of pure hate on your face and arms crossed protectively over your chest, body rigid in defiance.

“That’s my girl,” Ari sighs, kissing the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a while and you can feel his hot breath against your scalp and for some reason it makes you shiver, “Now, doesn’t that feel good? To just stop fighting and listen to your daddy?”

He rocks you for a while, sighing in contentment every now and again, his lips brushing against your forehead as his fingers playing with your hair, twining it and twisting it, smoothing it down and tucking it behind your ear, “My little baby girl, doesn’t it feel nice when daddy holds you? You’re all relaxed now, aren’t you? Can’t tell you how badly I’ve wanted to hold you like this, feel your tiny little body on top of me. God, honey, daddy loves you so much.”

“Y-You’re crazy,” Your voice is high with panic, hands twitching to pinch him or prod him in the eye and make a run for it – but you know he’d overpower you. Fleetingly, you wonder if you should scream, scream for the neighbours or scream for your mother.

“Don’t even think about it.” Ari seems to read your mind, “Be a good girl for me tonight, baby. I need you to be good tonight. Daddy’s had a rough day at work, and I deserve to have my baby girl take care of me just like how I take care of you.”

“M-Mom can take care of you,” you try, wondering why the hell he’s in your room instead of being a normal person and fucking his own wife.

Ari shakes his head, pressing another kiss to your forehead, “No, honey. I need you. Your mommy doesn’t do it for me. Every time I fuck her, I push her head into the pillow and I imagine it to be you. You’re my sweet little baby, you’re the one who deserves to be in my bed, who deserves to be underneath me. And soon, you will be.”

“Ari, you don’t have to do this. I’m not… I don’t… I wouldn’t do that to mom, Ari, please–”

“How many times have I told you not to call me that?” He snaps suddenly, gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger and forcing you to look up at him, your scared eyes looking straight into his crazed ones, “Call me daddy. In fact, say: daddy, please stop.”

“D-Daddy, please stop.” You whimper, and Ari throws his head back and groans.

“Fuck, baby. It gets me so hard when you beg and act like you don’t want it. Say it again, exactly like that.” He slaps your bare thigh, making you yelp in pain, “I said, say it!”

“Please stop, daddy! I don’t want this! An’ I’m not acting, I genuinely don’t want this, Ari– I mean daddy, please just stop!”

Through your begging and pleading, you feel the unmistakable hardness of his crotch underneath you, his boner so undeniably hard and heavy, poking into your ass from below and it makes you whimper yet at the same time you feel these alien sparks running up and down your legs. Fuck, fuck, fuck – ignore it!

His experienced fingers find themselves between your legs, his pointer finger slipping up and down the fabric of your panties which is inexplicably soaked – leaving you feeling horrified and more than a little bit scared. “Now honey, why don’t you take off this shirt that little girls like you have no business wearing, and put on that pretty dress daddy bought for you?”

Less than two minutes later, you find yourself standing in front of your stepdad, between his legs while he sits on your bed and looks up at you with maniacal and lust filled navy eyes. You have the poufy pink dress back on, the light pink tulle flouncing around your waist and hips, the hem resting a few inches above your knees.

“My little princess.” Ari coos, “I wish you could see how adorable you look. Now, hand daddy your little panties.”

You swallow, breathing hard, nails digging into your palms as you take a deep breath. Something compels you not to argue any further, reaching down to step out of your panties, hands shaking as you hand them to him. He all but snatches them from you, bringing them up to his nose immediately and taking an obscene sniff.

“God, love how sweet your little baby pussy smells,” He says it almost dreamily, “I’ll add this to my collection, sweetheart.”

His… collection? You barely have time to ponder over what he means by that, instead focusing in shock and awe when he brings your panties to his mouth, sucking on them like they’re some kind of popsicle, closing his eyes in pleasure as he practically makes out with your panties and your juices that were stuck to them that now stick to his tongue and lips.

“Delicious,” Ari smiles, stuffing your panties into his pocket before eying you up and down again, “Now twirl for daddy, baby. I want to see you in your little princess dress properly.”

You frown – what is even happening right now? You’d look fucking stupid, twirling around for him in this little girl dress, a pawn in his sick, twisted game.

“Honey,” Ari says warningly, and that’s all it takes for you to begin twirling, “Slower, baby. Show off your goods, let daddy see properly.” You feel like you’re an object at an auction, Ari’s own personal auction where only he has claim to you.

“God, you’re so fucking pretty. Love the way your little ass peaks out from under the tulle,” He reaches out to give your ass cheek a quick squeeze, and you feel your heart lurch along with your pussy. “And daddy’s so proud of you for putting your dress on all by yourself. I know putting clothes on can be hard, honey. That’s why daddy’s here to help you. But you did it all by yourself, and for that – you deserve a reward.”

You blanche at how much he’s babying you, wrinkling your nose, “You’ve got to be kidding m–” He shoots you a warning look that has you clamp your mouth shut almost instantly.

Your stepfather pulls you into his lap once more, stroking you everywhere; your arms, your legs, his lips raining kisses all over your face – as if you’re his personal doll that he’s dressed up to match his sick, specific tastes, and now he’s got you all to himself to do with what he pleases.

“Now, sweetie, you know what this is?” Knocked out of your reverie, your body jolts into an explosion of sparks when you feel his hand once again between your legs, his thick fingers brushing against the hood of your clit.

“Y-Yes.”

He frowns, “Say: No, daddy, I’m just a baby.”

What kind of a sick roleplay was this?! You’d been with guys in college who were kinky, but this was a whole different level. So why do you feel your pussy clench when he orders you to say those words? You swallow hard for the umpteenth time.

“N-No, daddy. I don’t know what that is. I’m just a baby.”

Ari licks his lips in pure, unadulterated lust, “Oh honey, this is your little princess button. It’s special because only daddy is allowed to touch it. No one else – not even yourself.”

You practically convulse off his lap when he lifts the hood, finger ghosting against your clit and sending sparks up and down your body, “Your princess button is what makes babies like you cum – that’s when you give daddy your sweet cream, got it? That’s just one of the lessons daddy’s gonna teach you tonight.”

It’s crazy how you find yourself nodding, your body playing along with his sick game.

You wait with baited breath as Ari continues with his twisted “lesson,” his finger meandering down your slit and gathering your juices which have now begun to drip down onto the denim of his jeans below you. He reaches your hole and stops, swirling his finger around your entrance, making you shiver in anticipation.

“Now this, sweet girl, this is your cunt.” Ari says bluntly, swirling and gathering your wetness, spreading it around your pussy lips and making you sigh and grip the collar of his shirt tightly, “But you’re just a baby, you’re not allowed to use that word. So you’ll just call it your special princess part. Now tell me, what’s this called?” He suddenly jerks a finger inside of you, and it’s so thick that your body almost rejects it, pussy squelching noisily as he curls his finger upwards, trying to stuff it inside of your slippery walls.

“AH, daddy! It’s my special princess part!” You cry, and now you’re practically throbbing down there, willing to partake in his depraved shenanigans if it means it’ll bring you relief. You’re well and truly gone, fucked, beyond saving. And the fact that your mother sleeps in the next room whilst you’re here with her husband’s finger up your cunt has you squeezing around his digit even harder.

“Fuck, baby, I love how tight your little baby cunt is, how you’re milking my finger. You’re so tiny, aren’t you? So tight with just one of my fingers barely inside of you. You’ll milk my fucking cock; I know you will. God, baby, daddy has to taste you.”

And that’s how you find yourself hovering on top of him, your stepdad lying on your bed with his strong hands gripping your hips, guiding you up to his face, your pretty pink dress flouncing around you.

“Hold your dress up and sit on daddy’s face, sweetie.” Ari orders you, a look of maniacal anticipation on his face.

“I’ve never… I haven’t done this before, daddy.” You say softly – and it’s true. Whilst some of your college boys have attempted to go down on you, they’ve either grown impatient or you’ve just shoved them off because whatever they did just didn’t feel good. You’ve never sat on someone’s face, though, but Ari looks more determined than ever when he hears you say that.

“Oh honey, those college boys haven’t been treating you right at all, have they?” He coos, putting on that sickeningly sweet voice that you’ve come to associate with him doing something depraved to you, “Bet they couldn’t even make you cum. And I bet their cocks weren’t as big as mine, but that’s okay sweet girl, you’ll find out all about that soon enough.”

And then he jerks you downwards, making you sink your pussy down on his waiting face. You jolt forwards, gasping when you feel your soft, wet folds against his face and grabbing onto his hair for leverage.

“Oh, oh my gosh…” You can’t help but whimper, the sensation feeling so different, and he hasn’t even done anything yet.

“Now honey, I want you to use daddy’s face. Ride me, rub your little baby princess cunt all over daddy’s face and make yourself cum, okay baby? Daddy skipped dessert tonight and wants to taste your sweet cream.”

If you’re the princess he keeps saying you are, then Ari’s definitely the villain of your story. The dragon who traps the princess around a pit of fire, revelling in your helplessness, each cry that comes out of your mouth pure music to his ears. There’s no winning in this situation, but your body’s already chosen which path it wants to take…

Slowly, you begin to rock your hips. Your movements are timid, hesitant, confused, until Ari grips your hips and grinds you down hard, his tongue so hard and pointed as he swirls it around and around in circles around your soft wetness, making you pant like a bitch in heat, a wanton whore who’s been craving her master all day…

“Ah, daddy! Y-Your beard!” It’s thick and prickly, causing delicious friction as you rut against it – reminding you how it’s a man underneath you, a man twice your age.

“Mm, I know daddy’s beard hurts a bit, sweet girl,” Ari’s voice is muffled, the vibrations delicious against your quivering pussy, “But it’s a good kind of hurt, one that’ll make your baby pussy all excited. Now don’t hold back, baby. Ride your daddy’s face.”

You’re so riled up that you don’t need to be told twice, letting out another moan as you begin to rock your hips again, faster this time when you feel the sparks begin to build inside of you. You’re so embarrassingly wet, your juices pouring out of your fuckholes, coating his face and making it glisten as you rub your pussy all over him.

“Ah, ah, ah!” You cry out, your gasps high-pitched as his nose nudges against your clit, and you almost fall forward in delighted surprise when Ari manoeuvres you slightly, enveloping your engorged button between his lips and giving it a harsh suck, practically making out with it as you continue to rock your hips, lewd squelching sounds bouncing across the walls of the room.

“That’s right, baby, use your daddy’s face. Let mommy know exactly what you’re doing, rubbing your baby cunt all over her husband’s face,” Ari whispers filthily, one of his hands still holding on to your hips to steady you, the other one drawing back and then swatting you hard across your ass. The slap catches you off-guard, sending thrills down your body as you cry out way too loudly.

“Oh, fuck, daddy!”

“That’s right baby, it’s your daddy that’s making you feel this good. Remember that.” Ari says cockily, slapping your ass once more before slipping his hand up, fingers entering your pussy. And this time, he practically forces two of his digits in, and you cry out at the sheer size – how will you ever fit his dick inside of you? When two of his fingers cause you so much pain?

Roughly, he begins pumping his fingers in and out of you, wet slapping sounds filling the room as he continues to suck at your clit. And it’s when you feel his teeth bare against your bundle of nerves, it’s when he bites down lightly that your legs twitch and flail and you scream bloody murder, yelling out his name, yelling out daddy, throwing your head back and moaning with no care in the world that your mother’s in the next room because you’re squirting all over his face.

“FUCK! Daddy, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Ari’s quick to keep your hips pinned down on his face, not letting you move even when it gets too much, your pussy twitching and sensitive, legs boneless like jelly as you almost sag around him.

“No, baby girl. One orgasm’s not enough. Give daddy another one. And you better work for it. Keep riding my fucking face, baby. My little baby with your cute little pink princess dress. Fuck, you’re making your step-daddy so hard right now, you have no idea.”

Grinding and rubbing against his stubbled face, newfound thrill overtakes your body at the sight of your stepdad below you, his brown waves fisted in your hands, his face glistening with your juices as his tongue licks around his lips before returning to your pussy. And you’re enamoured by just how much of your cream is on his face, and how much of your slick is still pouring out of your pussy – it’s like you’re leaking and it’s all for him.

“D-Daddy, my pussy won’t stop leaking,” You lament, surprising yourself with how helpless you sound, but you can’t help it.

“That’s because your little princess parts want daddy so badly,” Your daddy explains to you, “And I’m nice enough to let you cum again, so fucking ride me.”

And again, Ari grinds your pussy over his face, his tongue flattening up to lick a long trail up and down your slit before swirling around and around, sucking, biting, nipping, your slick leaking on his face and dripping down on the mattress below. God, you’ve never been this wet ever before…

“Fuck, my little princess, you’re so fucking hot.” Ari moans, giving your ass another hard smack, and then another, admiring how the flesh jiggles softly and how you moan in pain at his increasingly hard smacks, “I bet this baby ass is a virgin, huh?” Another slap, “Answer me, you dumb fucking baby.”

“Y-Yes! Had nothin’ up there, daddy! Nothing ever!” You cry, squealing in pleasure when he sucks on your clit again at your words – he’s clearly happy with your response.

But what you don’t expect is your stepfather to immediately remove his two soaking digits from your pussy, spreading your ass cheeks and rubbing the ring of your tight asshole, spreading your slick before pushing past the barrier of muscle, and you let out a howl of pain.

“Daddy, n-no! Don’t want anything up there, please!” You cry, wriggling but all that does is cause delicious friction, his beard burning your pussy lips and the insides of your thighs, his nose gliding over your clit and making you moan once more, and you’re so obscenely wet that you think he might drown in your arousal.

“Little babies like you don’t get a say in what goes up their baby ass.” Ari says sweetly, stroking your hip with one hand as he shoves his finger up your puckered hole with the other, and despite your protests, you can’t help but grind down on him. Because the delicious feeling of fullness is too addicting, especially when it’s something as taboo as your asshole being stuffed with your stepdad’s thick fingers.

Slowly, he begins to fuck your asshole with his pointer finger, and you resume riding his face, a death grip on his hair as you use him to chase your own pleasure.

“What a tight little ass my baby’s got,” Ari coos, voice muffled yet you still clench at his words, so close to your high because you get off on the depravity of it all, “Can’t wait to fill all your holes, baby. You love my finger up your ass but you’d love my cock even more. And the feel of daddy’s hot cum in your asshole? I’ll plug you up with a toy and make you keep it in there all day, princess. God, daddy hasn’t even begun to show you everything I’m gonna do to you, you just wait.”

Somehow, his twisted promises are just riling you up more, and now you can’t remember how, earlier tonight, you were denying his advances. It seems your stepdad is the only one who can scratch the itch inside of you, this itch that thrives off of being humiliated, being babied, being owned like how he’s owning you right now.

“Oh, oh, fuck, daddy! Feel so full, so full!” You cry, rocking harder against him, faster as you fuck yourself on his tongue and the wonderful friction it’s creating against your baby pussy. And Ari tries to add another finger to your puckered hole, but you’re too small, way too small for his huge digits.

“Oh, you’re full alright.” Ari remarks with a chuckle, “Looks like daddy’s stuffed you to the brim with just one finger. That’s alright, sweet baby. We have all the time in the world to stretch you out. I’m sure your mommy won’t mind.”

And with that, he clamps down hard on your clit, sucking on it like his life depends on it, making out with it, biting it, moving you forwards and backwards and sideways all over his face, making a slippery mess that has you moaning and crying screaming his name in abandon as you squirt all over his face for the second time.

“Daddy – AH! Fuck, daddy!” You clutch on to his hair, the collar of his shirt, his bicep, anything you can get your hands on as you ride out your high on his face 0 which is so indecently wet with your juices. It’s the most intense orgasm of your life, shooting stars behind your eyes that leave your entire body shaking with pleasure, red hot waves of pleasure that only Ari has ever made you feel.

You whimper when he finally lets you go, sagging down onto the mattress like a limp doll who’s puppeteer is finally done with her, the overwhelming nature of your orgasm making tears well in your eyes as Ari reaches out to stroke your cheek.

“What a good girl. Thank you for giving me your sweet cream. You taste just like a dream.”

“You’re welcome, daddy.” You say – and you don’t need to be prompted this time.

Ari pulls you close, pressing his lips to yours, and you can taste yourself on him as he makes out with you languidly, taking charge like only a man like him could, “My sweet, precious little baby,” He coos, “That was only lesson number one. We have a long way to go, and by the end of it, I want you to take your mommy’s place on my bed next to me. What do you say, sweet baby, you ready to be my little baby wife?”

THE END.

Let me know what you guys think! Feedback and reblogs are forever appreciated!!!

#ari levinson #ari levinson smut #ari levinson x reader #chris evans #chris evans x reader #dark chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #daddy chris evans #daddy ari levinson

7K notes · View notes

maghamoon · 9 months

Text

Nakshatra Convertor

1) Ashwini:

“Born from a female horse”

Ruling planet= Ketu

Aries 0° to Aries 13°20’ (Sidereal)

2) Bharani:

“The Bearer”

Ruling planet= Venus

Aries 13°20’ to Aries 26°40’ (Sidereal)

3) Kritika:

“The Cutters”

Ruling planet= Sun

Aries 26°40’ to Taurus 10° (Sidereal)

4)Rohini:

“The growing one”

Ruling planet= Moon

Taurus 10° to Taurus 23°20’ (Sidereal)

5) Mrigashira:

“The Deer’s Head”

Ruling planet= Mars

Taurus 23°20’ to Gemini 6°40’ (Sidereal)

6) Ardra:

“The Damp One”

Ruling Planet= Rahu

Gemini 6°40’ to Gemini 20° (Sidereal)

7) Punarvasu:

“The return of the light”

Ruling Planet= Jupiter

Gemini 20° to Cancer 3°20’ (Sidereal)

8) Pushya:

“The Nourisher”

Ruling Planet= Saturn

Cancer 3°20’ to Cancer 16°40’ (Sidereal)

9) Ashlesha:

“The Entwiner”

Ruling Planet= Mercury

Cancer 16°40’ to Cancer 30° (Sidereal)

10) Magha:

“The Mighty”

Ruling Planet= Ketu

Leo 0° to Leo 13°20’ (Sidereal)

11) Purva Phalguni:

“The Lucky One”

Ruling Planet= Venus

Leo 13°20’ to Leo 26°40’ (Sidereal)

12) Uttar Phalguni:

“The Auspicious One”

Ruling Planet= Sun

Leo 26°40’ to Virgo 10° (Sidereal)

13) Hasta:

“The Hand”

Ruling Planet= Moon

Virgo 10° to Virgo 23°20’ (Sidereal)

14) Chitra:

“The Bright One”

Ruling Planet= Mars

Virgo 23°20’ to Libra 6°40’ (Sidereal)

15) Swati:

“The Independent One”

Ruling Planet= Rahu

Libra 6°40’ to Libra 20° (Sidereal)

16) Vishaka:

“The Forked One”

Ruling Planet= Jupiter

Libra 20° to Scorpio 3°20’ (Sidereal)

17) Anuradha:

“Subsequent success”

Ruling Planet= Saturn

Scorpio 3°20’ to Scorpio 16°40’ (Sidereal)

18) Jyeshtha:

“The Eldest”

Ruling Planet= Mercury Ketu Peak Exaltation, Rahu Deep Debilitation

Scorpio 16°40’ to Scorpio 30° (Sidereal)

19) Moola:

“The Root”

Ruling Planet= Ketu

Sagittarius 0° to Sagittarius 13°20’ (Sidereal)

20) Purva Ashadha:

“The Undefeated”

Ruling Planet= Venus

Sagittarius 13°20’ to Sagittarius 26°40’ (Sidereal)

21) Uttar Ashadha:

“Later Victory”

Ruling Planet= Sun

Sagittarius 26°40’ to Capricorn 10° (Sidereal)

22) Shravana:

“To Listen”

Ruling Planet= Moon

Capricorn 10° to Capricorn 23°20’ (Sidereal)

23) Dhanishta:

“The Most Famous”

Ruling Planet= Mars

Capricorn 23°20’ to Aquarius 6°40’ (Sidereal)

24) Shatabhisha:

“Hundred Healers”

Ruling Planet= Rahu

Aquarius 6°40’ to Aquarius 20° (Sidereal)

25) Purva Bhadrapada:

“First of the Blessed Feet”

Ruling Planet= Jupiter

Aquarius 20° to Pisces 3°20’ (Sidereal)

26)Uttar Bhadrapada:

“Second of the Blessed Feet”

Ruling Planet= Saturn

Pisces 3°20’ to Pisces 16°40’ (Sidereal)

27) Revati:

“The Shining One”

Ruling Planet= Mercury

Pisces 16°40’ to Pisces 30° (Sidereal)

Abhijit Nakshatra:

“Ultimate Victory”

Ruling Planet= Mercury

(Intercalary Nakshatra) Capricorn 6°40’ to Capricorn 10°53’20’’

642 notes · View notes

onsunnyside · 2 years

Text

∮ 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐁𝐲 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Stepdad!Ari Levinson x innocent!reader x Stepdad's Best Friend!Lloyd Hansen

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | AGE GAP, STEPCEST, innocent!/inexperienced!reader, jealousy, possessive behaviour, dilf!Ari Levinson, dilf!Lloyd Hansen. size difference: 6’6” Lloyd & 6’7” Ari. SMUT - minors DNI, “exhibitionism” but it’s more like voyeurism, “lessons,” fingering (f), p*ssy slapping, daddy kink, dirty talk, innocence/ruined kink, corruption kink, degradation, dumbification, size kink, dacryphilia, spitting, oral (f), overstimulation, squirting.

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | It’s the summer before your freshman college year, and your stepdad’s best friend has been teaching you about pleasure behind your stepdad’s back, or so you think. Based on this ask.

𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑

𝗪/𝗖 | 4.19K

𝗔/𝗡 | must resist making this into a filthy series but I have no self control so let's see what you all think first !! reader took a year off before applying to college, and lived with her dad before moving in with her mother and meeting Ari. This was written for my 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲? 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲… 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲? 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲. All mistakes are my own. [all asks]

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

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

Grabbing another piece of bread, you quickly stuff your mouth to muffle your moans. You dare to spare a glance at your lap, which was definitely a bad idea.

His fingers are drenched, coated to the knuckle with your slick as he pumps in and out of your core. With your cute summer dress flipped up, and your panties hanging out of his pocket—you fall apart all over again.

Your eyes squeeze shut as your ankles hook around the legs of the chair, hips grinding against his hand. Weakly attempting to hold him still, you teeter over the cusp and tremble, your juices dripping out and trailing down your leg. Lloyd doesn’t stop, in fact, he only gets rougher. Your grip is nothing compared to his hunger to have you make a stupid mess on Ari’s fancy cushioned dining chairs for the second time that evening.

It all started when he dropped his fork and slipped under the table to retrieve it. To your surprise, he found more interest in the shortness of your dress, and being crouched between your legs, he caught a glimpse of your pink cotton panties.

Lloyd couldn’t control himself, he needed to touch you.

Also, today's lesson was on staying quiet and subtle: “college kids will fuck anywhere, you need to learn to keep those pretty lips shut and not be so obvious.”

These lessons started at the beginning of the summer after one night of too much wine. To your stepfather’s best friend, you confessed your sexual inexperience and the itching worry of being unlike the rest of your peers.

He simply brushed over your core, and you choked on a gasp before your lovely stepfather left to refill the pitcher of water. Lloyd took that opportunity to pry your thighs apart and sloppily mouth over your clothed cunt, groaning heavily against you.

The older man sucked on your clit, flicking the bundle with his tongue and soaking the cotton in salvia before tearing off your panties and returning to his seat. That was just in time for Ari to rush back with the full pitcher.

For however long, he’s been working you with his fingers. A numbing combination of teasing and overstimulation tearing you apart like petals from a delicate flower. Your delicate flower.

Surging forward for another piece of bread, you shove it into your mouth. The dull ache in your jaw goes ignored because this was the only way to shut up—Lloyd didn’t give you a break or even a breathier.

The older brunet scoots closer, it’s barely noticeable and it gets him a better angle on your cunt. He tries to slip a third finger alongside the rest, prodding at your already-full hole, but you’re too tight and too small for his thick digits. Lloyd settles for sliding in deep and rubbing your sore clit with his palm, curling his long fingers against that little rough patch inside you with ease.

He slows down as he tells a story of his recent travels, or his recent date—god, you don’t know. You can barely think with his thick digits scissoring you open, tracing up your slit to your clit to rub it in hard circles. He pulls back a few inches, then swings forward with a swift slap on your warmth, making your knee slam into the table.

Your stepfather looks over with wide eyes, “Woah, slow down, honey. You might choke.” He chuckles, refilling your glass of water, “drink something before your mouth dries out.”

You don’t trust yourself to speak, so you just nod.

Lloyd has a sick smirk on his face as he lightly spanks your pussy, it isn’t as hard as the first time but it sends the same shocks through your body.

Ari runs a hand through his long brown hair, “Sweetie, have you told Lloyd about being accepted to your dream college?”

A squeaky reply is all the men get, your stomach tensing all over again as Lloyd teasingly fucks you with his pinky. The cool metal of his ring presses against your heat, and you want nothing more than to rock against his hand, begging him to just force a third finger into you.

“Oh really!” He feigns surprise, his moustache twitching as he grins, “well, aren’t you a smart cookie—soon enough, you’ll be even richer than me.”

Ari smiles brightly, “I’m very proud of her, she’s such a good girl. After her year off and with her mother absent so often, you’d think she’d act up or have an attitude, but no. This little one is an angel, never even curses.”

Lloyd knows that, he also knows that you turn into a flustered mess when you attempt dirty talk. The most he ever got from you was a weak, “want y-your mouth on me—down there please, daddy.”

“Silly girl, you’ve got crumbs on your face, c’mere.”

Your eyes widen when Ari leans over the table, gently pinching your chin to wipe around your lips. A loud thumping fills your head in the same rhythm as your heart, it clouds your senses as fear courses through your veins. One glance over the edge, and Ari would see his best friend knuckle deep in your pussy, slowly working his ring finger alongside his pinky.

With stiff bones, you clench your thighs and trap Lloyd’s hand when he tries to pick up the pace—you knew he had a thing for secrecy and the thrill, but it was like he wanted you to come again right now, to get caught.

After what seemed like hours, Ari finally retreats. When he sits back down, he knocks over a spoon and it loudly clatters to the floor.

“Aw, shit—” Ari huffs and looks around. “I think it went under the table.”

“I’ll get it!” You slap a hand over your mouth, and embarrassment blooms as their clear blue eyes land on you, “sorry, um, I’ll get it for you.”

“It’s okay, I’m not so old that I can’t bend down anymore.” Your stepfather laughs, wiping his hands and pushing out of his chair.

All oxygen is yanked from your lungs as you try to swat away Lloyd’s hand, but he took advantage of your flustered state and pried your thighs open again. Ruthlessly fingering your weepy cunt, stretching you open as you desperately try to cross your legs.

You watch horrified as your stepfather disappears under the table, and your shaky hands clutch your dress, hoping to conceal at least a pinch of your modesty.

Nothing happens.

“A-Ari?”

It’s quiet for a few moments before a breath fans across your wet core. “I still can’t believe you couldn’t hold back from someone this once. Like really, my stepdaughter?”

A warm hand slides up your thigh, forcing your legs further apart, this time wide enough to fit a tall, muscular 6’7” man.

Next to you, Lloyd shrugs. “What can I say? When she said how worried she was about being inexperienced, I had to offer my expertise.”

Realization hits you like ice water, shocking you to the core. You’re limp as they easily manhandle you, making you lean against the back of the chair and slide closer to the edge. You feel like a doll as Ari tugs off your socks, slowly kissing up your calf to your knee, then switching to the other leg for the same treatment. His beard is rough against your skin, tickling you when he trails to your inner thighs.

You almost forgot Lloyd was keeping you plugged up with his skilled fingers.

Ari’s hair falls in front of his forehead as he looks up, licking his lips as if he’s leering at a full course meal, “I guess that means I should finally join too. Need to know what all the fuss is about.” Ari mutters, massaging the flesh inches from your soppy cunt, “What’s this lesson?”

Lloyd resumes his thrusts, disgusting wet noises making it all too obvious how much you were enjoying this—crossing the forbidden bridge, betraying your mother and diving headfirst into something you don’t even know. Tears start to well in your eyes, from pleasure and shame.

“Aw, sweetheart, did you think your stepdaddy didn’t know anything?” Lloyd pouts at you, his hand tracing up and down your slit, from your clit to your creamy hole, “He knows everything. He knows that you rode my thigh, sucked my cock by the pool—oh, and he knows that you want to try anal this summer.”

You’re mortified as Ari chuckles, “I didn’t think you had it in you, baby. Always thought you were my sweet, innocent little girl—now I know you’re just a clueless slut who likes older men.”

The other brunet brings his hand to your face, showing you the strings of arousal webbed between his knuckles. “What a pretty crying face,” He watches the tears trail down your cheeks, and he restrains himself from licking them, “I’m sorry, pumpkin. I had to tell him, that’s what best friends do.” His eyes shine wickedly, “You're his little girl, he has the right to know what I’m doing to his stepdaughter.”

Ari leans close, the tip of his tongue following the traces of your last orgasm until he’s close enough to only smell you, nothing else. “Can you tell me what Lloyd is teaching you today, honey?”

Excitement drips out of you and down your puckered hole, creating a mess under your ass. You’re caught between humiliation and striking anticipation, but most of all, you’re confused—what do you do? What are you supposed to do in this situation?

“I asked you a question, baby. Unless Lloyd already fucked you stupid with just his fingers. Did he stretch your untouched cunt so good that you can’t even speak anymore?”

You helplessly nod, bottom lip wobbling as you slowly grind against the air, “Was s-supposed to keep quiet, not be obvious.”

Ari pins you down again, “Well, you need more practice on that. Almost bent you over the table after watching you come.” He spreads your sticky folds to examine your most sensitive spot. “Bad girl, you aren’t supposed to like this. Aren’t virgins supposed to be pure, not lifting their dresses for men twice their age.”

Lloyd laughs, “your little girl isn’t a virgin anymore, daddy.”

Your stepfather stiffens, head snapping up to shoot daggers to his friend’s face. “You fucked her?”

“Not me, some guy she met when she went to New York.”

Ari’s glare lands on you, and you can feel it in your soul. The burning sensation of his dark, heated blue eyes sears through your skin, and erupts an uncontrollable blaze of humiliation and guilt.

“Oops, did I forget to mention that?” Lloyd hums thoughtfully, the ghost of a mischievous smirk on his lips. “My bad, it must’ve slipped my mind.”

“Yeah, I bet it did.” Your stepfather’s tone is sharper than a knife.

The beginnings of an apology are on the tip of your tongue—but Lloyd shoves his fingers in your mouth, making you gag and taste yourself. A pitiful whimper floats into the open air, fluttering to the same spot your “I’m sorry, Ari” would have.

“She’s so cute when she wants to come, or when it’s too much. You should really hear her beg.” Lloyd reminisces of you moaning into his ear the other day when you were bouncing on his thigh in the gym. After watching him work out, he said you deserved another lesson for keeping quiet to your stepfather.

Looking back, you felt proud of yourself, but now you feel tricked. Ari knew the whole time and you were the fool. And, he just got struck with the revelation that you aren’t a virgin.

There was no telling what would come next.

“Too bad she failed today’s lesson. I used to hook up with girls all over campus during my days. In the library, washroom, closets, even hallways if we couldn’t find somewhere.”

“I know, one of them was my ex.”

“Pfft, she was a four at best.” Lloyd turns his attention to you, dipping his hand back between your legs, now soaked with your spit, “But this pumpkin, she’ll be a real hit.” He smirks, “ain’t that right? You’ll show all the guys what we’re going to teach you?”

You cry out when he swats your cunt, wet slaps fill the dining room as he repeats the action again and again. A burn emits after each spank on your poor clit, right in place of his fingers. The moment he stops, Ari takes his place, spitting on your petals and giving you his fair share of slaps, harder and rougher. A clear form of punishment.

“She’s fuckin’ soaked,” He marvels at the cream and his mouth waters, “You like getting your pussy slapped, honey? Since you like it so much, maybe I should stop. Rightfully punish you for letting some guy pop your cherry without my permission.” He hisses, nostrils flaring, “Lloyd told me you’ve squirted from this, soaked your bed sheets while I was sleeping next door.”

The moustached man sucks his fingers, cleaning your juices with desire. “I guess you should thank me, Ari. Since all of a sudden, you grew a pair of balls.”

The implication was true yet you had no clue about it. How much Ari has wanted you, longed for your body under his—for you to be his. So, he did what any other person in his position would have done, his utterly sinful and taboo situation. He forced himself to keep a distance from his young and beautiful stepdaughter because this was wrong, but it felt so right.

Ari laughs humourlessly, easily pushing your chair back so he can pop up from under the table. Now, on his knees between your legs, inhaling your intoxicating scent as his friend spreads your weepy petals, exposing your most sensitive spot to your stepdad.

“Think I can slide in there too?”

Lloyd snorts, “You can try, but this little thing could barely take two of mine.”

“What do you say, baby? Are you going to let your stepdad stretch your pussy too?” His lashes brush his cheekbones with every slow blink, the underlying hint of anger still present.

You offer nothing but a shaky yes, desperate to make it up to him, to be his good girl like you’ve always been since you met him. It was only a year ago, but moving from your father’s house to Ari’s mansion was a dramatic change. Not only did you have an immediate crush on him, but you were welcomed into a world of riches, luxurious yachts and vacations.

Your attachment to Ari grew quickly. From your workaholic father, to your absent mother, you never had anyone to rely on. While your mother was on business trips or spending her new husband’s money, your pure, sheltered little heart leapt at the chance of having someone to trust.

He has always been so kind to you, a true gentleman when it came to treating you with honour and respect, he was also who you went to for advice. All advice except sexually—although, he did know about your first kiss.

He’s been aware of your lessons with his best friend, even encouraged them perhaps, but he’s upset about your New York trip.

You suddenly wish he was the one to take your virginity instead of that blue-eyed, blond boxer, regardless of how handsome and charming he was. You wanted Ari, you wanted him so badly.

Your wide gaze follows his thick and long digits circle your hole and collect your juices before slipping in. He’s bigger than Lloyd and feels entirely different. As he reaches deeper, he stretches you wider, and your arousal gushes out around him.

He’s nearly drooling at the sight of you struggling to take only two, “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, baby. You’ve been keeping it from me—you gave it to someone else, and that isn’t very nice.” His thumb lands on your clit, rubbing hard on the sensitive nub.

You moan loudly, and your hands scramble, your touch is placed on something and that something happens to be Lloyd’s hard cock. He’s as warm and heavy in your hand as the first time, that familiarity makes your stomach tighten and your walls clench around Ari.

“Remember what I told you, baby?” Lloyd’s hand dwarfs yours as he secures your fist and slowly moves you up and down his length. He uses your slick from his fingers to make the slide easier. “C’mon, use that dumb little brain for daddy.”

A series of needy whimpers flow above when Ari scissors his fingers. His bicep flexes when he pumps into you, twisting and curling his digits as you try to remember what Lloyd told you during one of your first lessons: how to pleasure a man.

“Poor girl, she isn’t going to last much longer.” Ari spits again, growling as it dribbles down your swollen clit to his other digit prodding at your hole, “You aren’t coming until I’ve got three fingers in you.”

The mere thought of taking three and being that full makes you mewl. Tears flow freely as his ring finger shoves in, joining his two other sturdy ones. He presses to his hilt and out again, coating them in your slick with every thrust. Your pussy weeps a stupid mess between your trembling thighs and you latch onto his head, stabilizing yourself with a pathetic cry, either begging for a break or pleading for more.

Your fist tightens and Lloyd throws back his head, neck tensing as he hisses your name, “that’s it, good girl. Slowly, don’t want to waste my come, yeah? My baby wants it on her little cunt, wants to feel my seed on her not-virgin pussy.”

Ari lets out a disgruntled noise, his actions getting rougher and the squelching noises get louder.

Lloyd kisses you, tongue slipping into your slack mouth. Salvia is exchanged between your muffled whines and you struggle to keep up, but with Ari between your legs, you can’t think straight.

The tingles flutter all over your body, strumming you just right. Pure pleasure takes over your senses, hyper-focusing on the two men that have the strength to shatter you like fine china. You feel so small and powerless next to him, and with one of them devouring your cunt.

His tongue swipes along your fold, flat and wide, gathering your cream before he spits it back onto you. Making you even messier and wetter for his fat fingers. Your toes curl in euphoria, and you’re entranced by the feeling of every ridge and his warm exhales combined with the slight brush of his facial hair.

When he pulls back, it’s as if he’s a completely different man. Dark, ferocious and hungry with a beastly glimmer in his eyes. Even on his knees, he still feels bigger than you.

“Fuck you, Lloyd—greedy bastard.” Ari dives forward, shoving his face into your pussy. His fingers spear you open as he drinks down your slick, his nose rubbing against your clit with every hard stroke of his tongue.

Every thought, every responsibility is torn from your head and replaced with these two men.

Ari has yanked down the front of your dress, massaging your breasts and pinching your nipples as he devours you. Drawing out your choked moans like he was being paid for it. He releases you with a pop, trailing his lips to kiss your thighs to sweep up any rogue arousal.

His cheek is pressed to your thigh, his blue eyes flickering between you making out with his friend and your hole as it cries around his fingers, adding to the mess on your chair.

“D-Daddy, my—my thing please.” You beg, salvia covering your chin.

He kisses your inner thighs, two fingers in your pussy, “What was that?”

Lloyd reaches down, spanking your puffy clit before forcing two more digits next to Ari’s. With a loud gasp, your hips raise at the sudden stretch. A dull pain blooms from your core, bleeding into every part of your body as your cunt tries to adjust.

You squeal between clenched teeth, thighs threatening to shut before your stepfather pins them open, hooking your knees over his shoulders. “Poor little cunt—she’s stretched to the brim, makes me wonder how my cock is gonna fit. Guess I’ll just force it in, huh, baby?”

“Yes, yes, yes—please. Want it, want you.” You blubber.

“Don’t you wish you had me pop your cherry with my big cock? I would have made you feel so good for your first time, worked you open just like this until you were ready. Then, I would have taken you nice and slow, fucked your untouched pussy, make you come as many times as you wanted.” His voice is low, almost a rumble in his chest, “but no, my little girl had to be a stupid slut and get fucked by some other guy—you shouldn’t even get to come for the whole fucking summer.”

“Now, isn’t that a bit excessive?”

“No. If anything, it’s not enough.” Ari growls, “That purity—that honour was supposed to be mine.”

You’re a twitching mess as they work you open, broken cries shake your chest as tears drip down your chin. Your eyes are shut tightly as you blindly reach for Ari’s hair, fisting the strands, you yank him closer to your core.

You hadn’t even noticed you released Lloyd’s length until he grabs your hand, entwining your fingers and holding you still.

He curls his digits, massaging your spot, “Oh, I think she wants you to suck on her clit.”

“Is that right, baby? You want your stepdaddy to suck your button? You think you deserve it for being a whore?” He asks. His resolve grows weaker as you moan his name between pleads, feebly trying to pull him to your cunt.

“Fine, but you’re going to squirt for me.” He captures your clit in his mouth, sucking delicately at first. His blue eyes captive yours as he hums against you, the vibrations make you clench around their fingers, sucking them greedily.

Your stepfather presses closer, massaging your bundle with his tongue between suckles as they get harsher and hungrier, his rough facial hair digging deep into your puffy folds.

It’s a wonder how you lasted this long, between their filthy words and their skilled hands, and now Ari’s warm mouth—you can’t take it anymore.

Your salty tears seep on your taste buds as your jaw falls open, and a silent scream escapes your tense throat. You convulse roughly, and your hips have a mind of their own as they move against Ari’s face and the men’s fingers.

“Keep her filled up,” Ari demands, he has to hold you down while Lloyd leans forward, breathing heavily.

As Ari’s fingers slip out, their absence is quickly filled with two of Lloyd’s, your wetness drips down his wrist and on his fancy watch, but he couldn’t care less.

Your stepfather spits on his hand, then pushes down on your stomach, and roughly rubs and spanks your cunt in quick succession. He continues to brutally strum your swollen nub with his fingers as your juices squirt everywhere.

They watch as you reach your high, flailing around like a fish out of water and grabbing onto any part of them you can reach. You cling to Lloyd’s wrist and Ari’s hair, trapping him inches from your pussy.

A good portion of your orgasm lands on Ari’s face, evident on his cheeks, thick beard, and ironed flannel. Their touches leave a few moments later, and you break down in tears as you finally take a breath, shuddering with oversensitivity as even the slightest wisp of air on your core feels like fire.

Your stepfather is the first to speak, his pink tongue eagerly sweeping any trace of you from his lips. He wants to smother his face in your pussy. “Let me just have one more taste.” Ari leans forward, he gets one lick before you’re shoving him away, sobbing as his facial hair brushes your sensitive folds.

“Sorry, baby. Daddy’s sorry.” He apologies, but if you could see him now, you’d notice the smugness written all over his face. “Forgot you’re still so inexperienced and not used to all this stimulation.” He pulls back with a lingering kiss on your button, revelling in your pathetic pleas.

“Shh, you’re okay, pumpkin.” Lloyd caresses your cheek, kissing all over your sweaty face—he growls at the bitterness of your tears. “Gotta be gentle or else we’ll ruin you.”

“Yes, p-please be n-nice.” You hiccup, still twitching in the chair. You fear you bit off more than you can chew. “Don’t… ruin, please.” An ache blooms from your awkward position, but the burning from between your thighs easily overpowers that.

Ari and Lloyd laugh as if you told the funniest joke in the world.

“Oh, it’s too late for that, dumb baby.” Lloyd chuckles with a sinister smile.

Ari makes a sound of approval, wiping your juices from his beard with a napkin, “You, little lady, won’t be the same after the summer.”

He couldn’t have been more right.

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: oh the filthy potential… the whole summer learning from these two dilfs 😵‍💫😵‍💫 I just know Ari has some other friends too, oh can’t forget about your professors next year 🫠 or that blond boxer in New York...

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! This was written for my 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲? 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲… 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲? 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲

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

☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

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

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mdshh · 19 days

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Rose’s birthday 🥳

#i think she looks like a mix of seb and anya #but more like anya probably 🤔#ts4 gameplay #ts4 screenshots #ts4 legacy #forks legacy #anya forks #ari forks #sebastian tolman by aurorangen #rose forks #gen 3

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doctorwhoisadhd · 10 months

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every so often in midnight burger someone will say something and i will instantly be somehow even MORE sure the creator watches dr who

#first it was the time traveling diner #then it was ''This particular TV dinner was NOT poked with a fork.'' (bc into the dalek)#then it was the whole‚ midnight burger being a place that whole civilizations are looking for thing‚ with it having been given many names #and NOW ex says ''People don't have to know they're slaves to be slaves‚ Caspar.''#and INSTANTLY i can hear that one bit of the long game where the editor asks 'is a slave a slave if he doesn't know he's enslaved?'#and the doctor instantly goes 'yes.'#ari opinion hour #some bonff #im only on season 2 btw no spoilers pleeeease

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n4giism · 7 months

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⇢ ˗ˏˋ in a trance by malcolm todd ࿐ྂ

blue lock x fem!reader

characters: reo mikage, kenyu yukimiya, shouei barou

content: part 3 of weird/bad habits they have. reader wears glasses in reo's, also a bit of cursing (reo), aged up (yukimiya) and yukki can drive lol, barou is a secret swiftie in denial.

ari's note: i looove yukki sm he's my second fav after nagi omg i love yukimiya i love him sm he is so underrated <3333

part 1. part 2.

reo mikage: eating pizza with cutlery

"hey, i'm hungry." reo said as he rolled on the bed, landing next to you. he lay on his tummy and rested his face on his palms, looking up at you as you did work on your laptop beside him on your bed.

"hm, me too." you replied, feeling your stomach grumble a little.

"whaddya wanna eat?" he asked, sitting up cross-legged, resting his chin on your shoulder as an attempt to peek at the work you were doing.

"it's up to you. i'm still busy, so you can choose." you mumbled, pushing up your glasses and continued typing away on your laptop. reo kept quiet until he decided on what he wanted to eat.

"let's eat caviar."

"what the fuck? that's so expensive, reo." you shook your head, your attention now on reo after he suggested that ridiculously expensive food for a normal lunch.

"what? i had it for dinner a few nights ago with my parents." he said, confused. you sighed. he was from a rich family, after all. of course he had fancy meals 3 times a day.

"we can eat caviar." he pouted.

"no."

"yes."

"we should save caviar and any other fancy meal for an important day; like our anniversary, or our birthdays." you suggested. you couldn't imagine eating things like caviar, foie grass and other expensive meats on a daily basis. reo hummed in reply, "alright, fine. caviar is good though."

"let's just eat pizza, is that okay?" you asked and reo nodded excitedly.

"yes! i haven't had pizza in sooooo long!"

you rolled your eyes playfully and chuckled. he had steak and other fancy foods everyday, but something as simple and delicious as pizza was a rarity to him.

you pulled out your phone and ordered some pizza to be delivered to your house and continued with your work. reo stayed with you the entire time, changing his position ever so often; from laying his head on your lap, or wrapping his arms around your waist.

soon, the doorbell rung and reo went to answer it. the pizza had arrived. you asked him to bring the pizza to your room and that you'd eat there. reo took quite awhile though. did he trip and fall on his way or something?

you were completely immersed in your work in your laptop, until you heard the clinking of cutlery and plates.

"reo?" you called, looking up from your laptop.

he emerged from the door, holding the pizza box and 2 plates, along with forks and knives.

"reo, why the heck did you bring the fork and knives? and what's with the plates?" you questioned, puzzled.

"what? it's to eat the pizza with, of course." he replied nonchalantly and settled on your bed.

he placed a slice of pizza on his plate and begun cutting it with his fork and knife. he was eating the pizza like how he'd eat steak. you watched silently, mouth parted as you watched your purple haired boyfriend continue with his meal.

"y/n? come on, eat up! i'll cut up a slice for you!"

you couldn't say anything and reo took the silence as an 'okay, i allow you to cut up my pizza.'

you didn't have the heart to tell him that pizza could just be eaten with your barehands just like that, and that there was no need for plates or cutlery. you'd have to teach him about the way average people do, and how it's different from the way the rich do.

kenyu yukimiya: speeding up when driving over a bridge

the day had finally come for the long awaited road trip you and your boyfriend, yukimiya, have planned! it was a day trip on the road to a resort somewhere very far from where the two of you lived. it was a 24 hour car ride, but you didn't mind it since you would be with yukki throughout. he's gotten his license a few months ago and he drives really well!

he rarely gets road rage, and he knows when to slow down or speed up. he would drive you to school, or anywhere in general and it was perfect since he'd let you handle the music. you knew this road trip with him would be perfect. nothing sounds better than being in a car with your loved one, music filling your ears, the ac turned on and just being in the lovely presence that yukki radiated.

everything was going fine. you were 2 hours in the trip and had made 2 stops at previous gas stations to get food and water, as well as use the bathroom and get a stretch break from being seated in the car.

soon, you looked up ahead and noticed a bridge. with water underneath it. it was like a reservoir and there were many other cars driving across the big bridge. you could see tall buildings in the distance across the bridge and it excited you that you would be driving past a nearby city!

the stereo was playing your shared playlist with yukki and he was humming along to the song while you told him some funny stories.

upon reaching the bridge, however, you almost. almost. met your death.

okay, that may be an exaggeration. but it truly felt like you almost saw the light.

yukki, who was driving at a speed of 50km/h, suddenly increased it to 102km/h, as he sped across the bridge.

"it was so funny, i almost died of laughter- h-hey! yukki?!" you jolted as he suddenly sped up halfway through one of your stories.

"hold on!" he replied, pushing his glasses up and running a hand through his hair.

"y-yukki!? what's gotten into you! oh my god, be careful! you almost hit that truck!" you screamed a bit as he accelerated even more and more. you didn't even dare to look over to his side to see what his speed was.

it already felt like he was going at 1000km/h, even though that was not possible, but it really felt that way. you could hear the zooming of your car tires on the road, all the other cars passing by you swiftly. if the car windows were open, you're sure your hair would be flying everywhere.

he was changing lanes quickly, going left, right, then left again, then staying in the middle, then going left and right and so on. he was dodging all the cars in his way, speeding up even faster as he did so.

"yukki! oh my god, slow down! you're gonna get us killed!" you wailed, clutching the pillow on your lap and holding it tight. yukki showed no signs of slowing down. his face remained calm and focused as he continued his pursuit.

he might as well become a race car driver if he wants to drive at this ridiculous speed, you thought.

as soon as the car got off the long bridge, yukki slowed down to the normal 50km/h speed once more.

"you idiot! what was that all about? fantasizing being a race car driver, yukki?!" you scolded, catching your breath and wiping the beads of sweat that had formed on your forehead. it was so intense, the ac was turned on yet you were sweating and panting from that drive.

"race car driver? i was just driving normally, silly." he chuckled, pulling over at the nearest gas station and parked the car. you had never, ever, seen yukki drive at anything more than 80km/h.

"you've never drove that fast before..." you whined, meeting his eyes.

"yeah? that's 'cause we've never had to drive over a bridge back at home." he chuckled light-heartedly and pushed his glasses up.

you looked at him, confusion written all over your face, "what's that supposed to mean? why do we need to speed up over a bridge?"

"in case it collapses." he answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

you sucked in air through gritted teeth and frowned, "you stupid four eyes."

he tilted his head as you got out of the car, walking to the bathroom, leaving a confused yukki.

"what? y/n! are you not anxious that the bridge might fall!?" he called out from behind you, locking the car and chasing after you.

shouei barou: using songs as timers

"hm? not going to the gym today?" you asked as you saw your boyfriend still at home. it was 11am and normally by now, barou would be at the gym until 1pm.

he shook his head, "nah, decided to stay home and work out instead. i'm gonna start now, actually."

you shrugged and gave him a thumbs up. you left him to do his workout in peace so you went to the kitchen to make something to eat. however, you started hearing familiar lyrics and a tune...

they sounded like... shake it off? by taylor swift?

you thought you were going crazy and was just hallucinating her voice in your head until you realised the song was actually playing. leaving the kitchen, you followed the muffled tune of the song which led you to the living room where barou would be working out.

and there, you saw the music video playing on the tv, along with barou lifting weights and doing squats as taylor continued singing in the back.

"sho? i didn't know you listened to taylor swift..." you choked down a laugh at the thought of barou singing to taylor's songs.

"what? i don't!" he replied mid-squat. "just usin' her songs as a timer. once she reaches the second verse i'll switch to another workout." he explained, red forming on his cheeks and ears.

"heh, whatever you say. nothing wrong with enjoying taylor, though." you giggled, whispering that last part but just loud enough for him to ear. he clicked his tongue.

"tch, whatever. she's okay."

you waved your hand, dismissing the topic and retreating back to the kitchen. as you cooked a meal, you heard different songs from taylor swift playing. maybe he really is a fan.

end.

hey queens sorry for the late upload😍 this took awhile cus my back really hurts when typing on my laptop omd so i just kept putting this on hold but here it is!!!

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

Note

can we have an update with the readers pregnancy and santa in the north pole? 😍

christmas masterlist

summary - you and ari find out you're pregnant.

the gif and header I use aren't mine.

You soak your pancakes in syrup, not noticing how Ari watches with a raised brow. Cutting into the soft goods, making sure there’s a mix of pancake, berry and syrup on your fork before shoving the food into your mouth with a moan.

Ari sips his coffee, watching as you shovel the pancakes in your mouth as if someone will come over and snatch it. “Honey, are you feeling okay?” You nod, barely hearing him as you continue to eat, your eyes zeroing in on his food.

“Are you going to eat that?” You point to his bacon, mouth-watering as you picture the taste on your tongue. Ari looks down, shaking his head slightly, causing his eyes to widen when your hand snatches his food faster than he could say Christmas. He watches as you continue stuffing as much food as you can in your mouth.

Ari leans back, confused as to why you are acting like this. His brows shoot up when you quickly jump out of your seat and run to the bathroom. Ari hurriedly gets up and follows after you, holding your hair back as you throw everything up. Once you’ve finished throwing up, Ari hands you a glass of water whilst rubbing your back. “Honey, this is the fifth time this week. You can’t be okay.”

You huff, “It’s not like I can go to the doctor and see what’s wrong. I have a theory, but I don’t know what you’d think.” You look up at him with wide eyes.

“What is it, Honey?” His hand moves soothingly up and down your back, and his expression is worried.

“Well… I might be pregnant?” His eyes widen, and you go to speak, but you are interrupted by a giant smile and being squeezed to death. “A–Ari! I said I might be!”

He buries his face into your neck, holding your body close. “I don’t care! I’m excited either way! Imagine a tiny us running around!” He leans back and waves his hand, a pregnancy test appearing in his large palm. He thrusts it forward, staring at you with wide eyes.

“You want me… To pee on that… While you're in here?” You look between the giddy giant man and the pregnancy test.

“I can step out if you want?” You shake your head, shakily getting up with the help of Ari before sitting on the toilet. Both of you are anxious as you pee and place the test on the counter, and Ari holds your hands as the time ticks by.

When the timer goes off, you both look, and an excited squeal escapes his lips, causing you to look at Ari. “You’re pregnant!” A giant smile appears on your face as Ari pulls you flush against him, placing kisses across your face.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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jae-bummer · 1 year

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Know Your Worth

Request: Hello, could I request #9 with Seventeen Woozi ?

Prompt:

9) "I don't want them. I want you."

Pairing: Seventeen Woozi x Reader

Genre: Angst

Your phone vibrated next to your plate, causing your friend, Ari, to eye it warily. "Why bother carrying your phone around if you never use it?"

"I don't know what you mean," you muttered, taking an uncomfortably large bite of your food. Strategically, this would keep you from having to phrase a rebuttal in what you knew would be an upcoming argument.

"You know exactly what I mean," she sighed, setting her fork on the table. She reached toward your device, but you quickly grabbed it, and set it further away from her.

Pointing to your mouth, you exaggerated your chewing before giving the smallest shrug.

"You're a menace," she groaned. Just as you thought she was going to pick up her utensils again and go back to safe dinner conversation, you nearly choked as she launched herself toward the opposite end of the table.

You scrambled in an attempt to get your phone before she did, but it took only a few seconds before you realized it was a lost cause. As she held your device, clutched protectively in her hands, she looked up at you with a grin.

"Who's the menace?" you croaked, finally finished chewing your last bite of food.

She ignored you and chose to unlock your phone instead. Narrowing her eyes at the screen, she looked back up. "What is your problem?"

"I mean, should we start with the childhood trauma or-"

"Don't be cute!" she gasped, flashing the screen in your direction. "Why, may I ask, do you have multiple unread messages from Woozi?"

"I cannot shut down my cuteness, Ari," you sighed, focusing fully on the plate before you. It had suddenly become much more interesting in the past few moments.

"Stop deflecting and tell me the truth!" she groaned. "I'm trying to live vicariously through you and it's really hard when you're sabotaging both of our dreams!"

You leaned your head back and tried to suppress a groan. There it was.

Reflecting back, the day had been just like any other. You had stopped at your favorite cafe for a cup of tea and ran into your friend who was not a friend. Jihoon was someone who you only knew by his order being called out by a barista, but in your head, he was one of your comfort people. You had a normal routine that he had fallen into. Whether it was waiting for your drinks at the to go area (in companionable silence) or sitting next to each other at the bar (also in companionable silence), you knew of each other in the barest of ways. He was an NPC in your life until he decided to slip you his number before leaving the coffee shop one day.

It took giving yourself a pep talk to finally text him. He was attractive and a great tipper (very important), but that was all you knew. In time, you learned he was a (self-admitted) bad texter, an emotional drinker, and someone who tended to keep his struggles to himself. The handful of dates you had gone on went above and beyond what you had hoped. Jihoon was incredibly kind, listened well, and was always considerate. His vibe was soft and something special that you could never relate to anyone you had met before.

Once you had finally grown comfortable with the idea of dating someone, you slowly began to tell your friends. It was then that their expectations slapped you in the face. You knew Jihoon was a musician and had even listened to his music before the two of you had grown close. The gravity of who he was, however, hadn't hit you until you started bringing him up.

"It wasn't my dream to date someone high profile," you muttered, shooting your friend a look. "I just want to be with someone in a normal way."

"He's still a human, Y/N," your friend whined. "I'm sure he's great at being normal."

"Yeah, but you're not," you huffed.

Taken aback, your friend tilted her head. Sliding you your phone, she crossed her arms. "And what does that mean?"

"It means that everything was fine until everyone started telling me about how famous he was!" you gasped, throwing your hands in the air.

"But that doesn't mean-"

"No," you cut her off. "It doesn't mean I shouldn't date him, but it made me realize just how much attention he got. It made me realize that he may be too busy, too famous, or honestly, too attractive to ever fall for me in the way I was for him."

"Y/N," Ari said quietly. You looked to her face and noticed her expression was remorseful. "I never thought my excitement for who you were dating would make you feel like that...I was more excited for you to be happy."

"Happy with an idol," you grumbled.

"I'm sorry," she squeaked. "But he's obviously texting you...he's showing he's interested. Are you really putting everything on hold because you have the dumbest friend in the whole world?"

"You aren't dumb," you sighed. "It's more about me than you. It just felt better to blame you."

"No, I made you realize something you never should have even thought of," she muttered. "Because you're the best and he could love the shit out of you if you let him."

Taking a deep breath, you looked up at the sign dangling from the coffee shop that you had been regrettably going to for the past week. It felt awful sneaking around to places you knew Jihoon wouldn't be. The indigestion from the crappy drinks was second to the guilt.

Walking forward, you tugged at the door, and slid into the cafe. Pulling at the handle to close it behind you, you were surprised as it swung open again with force. Looking over your shoulder, you let out a whimper. Jihoon stood before you, white knuckling the edge of the door.

"So this is where you go to avoid someone," he said, deadpan.

If you could shrink into yourself and then melt into the floor, now would be a great time to do that.

"I'm not avoiding anyone," you whispered. The words already sounded like a lie.

"I never took you for someone who ghosted, Y/N," he sighed, shaking his head. Letting go of the door, he backed away, and let it slam in your face.

Shit.

Immediately pushing back outside, you were relieved to see he hadn't made it very far. Plopped on a bench, he was hunched over, and typing furiously on his phone. You tried to make yourself as small as possible as you walked over and plopped on the seat beside him.

"I know it may be a really bad excuse," you said quietly. "But honestly, it's not you. It's me."

Sitting up, Jihoon swiveled his head toward you and narrowed his eyes.

Yeah, you probably deserved that look.

"I've been in my head about us," you continued. "And honestly, my head is the worst place to be. All cobwebs and shitty coffee."

This caused a small smirk that ignited a bit of hope in your chest. If he was even the tiniest bit receptive, maybe he'd understand.

Actually, you were sure he would. He was Jihoon.

"I started talking to my friends," you grumbled. "Which was a huge mistake. They made me very aware that you were THE Woozi of Seventeen."

"You hadn't already noticed?" he asked. You could tell by his mannerisms that he was tired. Whether that was because of his job or you, you weren't completely sure.

"Of course I noticed," you sighed. "I just hadn't really...thought about it."

"I'm going to need some context to that one."

"You were Jihoon," you shrugged. "I knew what you did for a living, but that had very little to do with the version of you I came to know."

"My career is part of who I am," he said. "It's shaped me in a lot of ways."

"I recognize that," you nodded. "And I appreciate that side of you too. I guess I just hadn't really considered you as a celebrity or anything. You were just this guy I met at the coffee shop and thought was cute."

"Is there a reason why I can't be both?"

"Yes," you grumbled. "Because a celebrity and a boy who gave me his number are two things that could not possibly correlate."

"I am so terribly lost that I don't even know how you want me to respond, Y/N," Jihoon said, almost apologetically.

"You can't like me," you insisted. "At least that's what I thought. How could you like me? I'm no one."

Jihoon's mouth popped open and he stared at you as if you had just sprouted a second head. "Is that why you haven't been talking to me?"

"Well...yeah."

This made him openly laugh as he scooted closer to you. Reaching over, he took your face between his hands. Smiling sadly, he began to shake his head. "You thought I'd decide you weren't worth it."

"Or that some other person would come along," you said quietly. It was growing harder and harder not to nuzzle your face into his palm. "Someone more notable or better looking."

"I'm not sure if you've hit your head lately," Jihoon grinned. "But I don't want them. I want you."

"Are you sure?" you squeaked.

"Wasn't I the one who gave you my number?"

"Well yeah, but-"

"No buts," he said quietly, this time his face serious. "No if's, no maybes. You are worth every bit of attention I give you, and then some. You cannot equate your worth based on your lack of celebrity. Do you know how many celebrities I know who are worth absolutely nothing at all?"

You could feel the tears start to well on your lower lashes. You had been so incredibly clueless all along. You had learned Jihoon's heart and you should have known better.

"I'm stupid," you whimpered. "And I'm sorry."

Jihoon's eyes were so soft as he looked at you, like he could never make you understand. "You are not and don't be. Just talk to me. I know I'm not the easiest person to be with, but I will make it so damn worth it for you, Y/N. Just give me the chance."

Gasping out a choked off sob, you pulled his face toward yours. Placing a kiss firmly on his lips, you pulled away again to wipe the tears falling down your cheeks. Giggling, you realized you had gotten some on Jihoon as well. Reaching up, you dabbed at his skin with sweater paws.

Smiling like your chest would burst with happiness, you looked into his eyes. A smile was waiting there too.

Everything was going to be okay as long as you let it.

#jihoon #woozi #seventeen woozi #svt #seventeen #lee jihoon #woozi angst #woozi x reader #woozi fanfic #woozi fic #woozi svt #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fic #seventeen angst #seventeen scenarios

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seraphic-saturn · 6 months

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Mars Signs when reacting to bad food during a dinner date

Note : Totally satire, I swear. Although as a Libra Mars, accurate

Mars in Aries: They'll demand to speak to the manager like they're leading a battlefield. "Unacceptable! We demand satisfaction, and we demand it now! Charge!"

Mars in Taurus: They'll stare at the plate like they're contemplating the meaning of life before declaring, "This is a disaster. I might never recover from this. Bring me the chef, now!"

Mars in Gemini: They'll roll their eyes, take a dramatic bite, and announce, "Well, this meal is a one-star comedy show. I hope they have a good Yelp review because they're going to need it!"

Mars in Cancer: They'll look at their plate, then at their date, and sigh dramatically, "I knew I should have just cooked at home. This is an emotional rollercoaster I didn't sign up for!"

Mars in Leo: They'll raise their voice dramatically, "Excuse me! This is not what I ordered, and it's definitely not fit for a king or queen. My kingdom deserves better!"

Mars in Virgo: They'll inspect their plate with a critical eye, then call the waiter over, "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to give you some notes on this dish. We need to talk about the seasoning, pronto!"

Mars in Libra: They'll smile sweetly at the waiter, "Oh, no, everything's fine. Don't worry about it. But also, can we have a serious chat about what just happened in the kitchen?"

Mars in Scorpio: They'll shoot daggers with their eyes, summoning the waiter with an ominous gaze. "You. We need to talk. And you better have a good explanation for this catastrophe, or things will get... intense."

Mars in Sagittarius: They'll laugh uproariously, "Well, this is a disaster, but at least it's a hilarious disaster! Let's just add this to our list of epic dinner date stories, shall we?"

Mars in Capricorn: They'll calmly put down their fork, call the waiter over, and declare, "This isn't acceptable. We need to talk about your standards, the restaurant's standards, and the standards of this entire industry."

Mars in Aquarius: They'll shrug and say, "Well, this is a fascinating social experiment in customer service, isn't it? Let's see how they handle a dissatisfied diner with a Ph.D. in constructive criticism."

Mars in Pisces: They'll gaze at their plate with a wistful sigh, then whisper to their date, "I think this meal might be a metaphor for the existential dread we all carry within us. Or maybe the chef just needs a hug."

#astrology #astrology observations #astrology satire #astrology mars signs

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sfsolstice · 1 month

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and i have told spring, the ram, and the new year: i want you here, by my side, until some day, somewhen, we must seek out forking paths— dance a horrid tango with life alone— and separate for a time, or eternity, whichever fate may come first;

now, spring, the ram, the new year— they are here, and our dancing souls, despite the sway of planetary transits and the comings and goings of time, still hold hand in indomitable hand— for the now moment, and the nows after: a wish granted, a grace bestowed

by an aries angel named equinox.

#poets community #poets of tumblr #poets on tumblr #spilled ink #spilled poetry #poetry #poem #original poem #love #lovers #romantic #sfsolstice #happy spring equinox !!#happy aries season !!#happy astrological new year !!#im actually so glad to be out of pisces season lol #i have a good feeling about this aries season :3

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sassy-ahsoka-tano · 2 years

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DADDY ISSUES - Part One: Motive

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: You're just a waitress, nothing more. But when your cousin, Steve, gets into a jam and needs your help, you have no choice but to indulge him and become the front-row face of Elvis Presley's '68 Comeback Special. [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: None! Inaccuracies to the actual special probably lmao. this chapter is tame. the others won't be

Rating: Pg (but this series will be very NSFW, so minors save yourself the trouble + DNI) || Word Count: 4644

A/N: it's finally hereeeee!! happy thirsty thursday hunnies + i hope you enjoy part 1 of the series! i promise smut will be forthcoming, but i have it plotted for almost every part so i wanted to start out with plot stuff instead 😅

Song Rec: motive - ari (feat. doja cat)

This is Part 1 of Daddy Issues. Find the rest of the series here!

[ masterlist | taglist ]

🦋 mila

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

“Order up! Table seventeen.”

You let your slippery white shoes glide across the checked floor as you slide up to the counter. You grab the plate from off the rack and trot out from behind the counter to deliver it to table seventeen.

“I got a burger and fries?” you ask, placing the plate down and proceeding with the rest of the order. You load the family’s dirty dishes onto the tray and snatch up the ringing telephone as you pass by it.

“Chadney’s Restaurant, how can I help you?” you say into the speaker.

“Hi, I’m calling for Y/N?”

“Uh…yes, this is she?” you respond, setting the tray down. “I’m sorry, who is this?”

“Oh Y/N, perfect, this is Steve, your cousin,” the voice replies.

“Steve Binder? Why are you calling me at work? Didn’t your mom give you my new home phone number?”

“Yeah, but I knew you wouldn’t pick up. Listen, I’m in a bit of a bind at the moment, and I was wondering if you could do me a favor?”

“What kind of favor?”

“Well, seeing as you’re right across the way here, I was just wondering how many people are in the restaurant right now? Do you think any of them would be willing to come down here to be part of a live studio audience?”

You sigh, glancing around the restaurant quickly. It’s later in the afternoon, but because of the restaurant’s vicinity to NBC, it’s usually crowded most of the day. Only a few tables are empty.

“Yeah, it’s busy. I don’t know… there are some younger people. Who’s performing?”

“Elvis Presley.”

You feel your mouth drop open and your blood run cold.

“Y/N! We have orders ready to go out!” You wave a hand dismissively at your boss screaming from the kitchen.

“So, do you think anyone would be interested?” Steve presses.

“Yeah, maybe, I don’t know. Listen, I have to go. If you want them, you’ll have to come down here and get them yourself. I gotta go, Steve, bye.”

You click the phone down before he has a chance to protest and get back to work. You’re only able to run about two orders out before the door swings open and you glance up to see your cousin waltzing in with another man you don’t recognize.

“Hi everyone! If I could just have your attention please!”

Murmurs spread throughout the restaurant as forks and knives clink down onto the old yellowed ceramic plates. Silence settles before Steve continues.

“Hi all, I know this is sort of out of the ordinary, but my name is Steve Binder, and I work for NBC. We’re actually across the street right now gearing up to film a show with Elvis Presley, the King of rock’n’roll, I’m sure you’re all familiar. Unfortunately, we seem to have lost our audience. Again, I know this sounds strange, but would any of you be interested in attending the filming to be part of a live audience?”

You hear a gasp and turn to see your coworker and only true friend, Candy, standing next to you. She glances over at you with a big smile and nudges your arm with her elbow.

“Elvis!!” she whispers.

By the time Steve has finished with his announcement, practically everyone in the cafe has jumped out of their seats and rushed toward your cousin, cheering and jeering to get in line. You walk back behind the counter to put your apron away as Steve gestures the people funneling out of the restaurant toward the NBC Studios building across the street. You start stacking plates when you hear Steve’s voice behind you.

“Thanks for your help,” he says.

“Not a problem,” you respond, turning around to hug him. “Now, what’s this I hear about Elvis Presley?”

“Crazy, isn’t it? Bones Howe and I got a call from his producer, Jerry Schilling, about helping him reconnect with his previous persona, his famous image. We met him, talked for a while, and boom now we’re here.”

“That’s amazing!” Candy adds, walking up to lean against the counter. “You know your cousin here,” she gestures to you, “is like the biggest Elvis fan on the planet.”

“You don’t say. Actually…” his eyes light up and he points at you. “Y/N, you know, you’d be perfect for this. You’re exactly the kind of person we want to showcase on the special. Young, fresh, attractive, a real and authentic person. Do you think you could come with me now?”

“No. No, you know I can’t do that," you reply, shaking your head.

“Why not? There’s not a soul in this place, anymore.”

You look around and shake your head.

“There are still people here, and I’m still on the clock. I can’t just leave. I’ll get fired.”

“Ah, Y/N, lay off it. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, honey,” Candy says. “You should go!”

You shake your head and turn, trying to go back to work, but Steve speaks up again.

“I can get you a prime spot. Right in front of him. And your friend is welcome to come, too. C’mon, Y/N. Please.”

Memories flash through your mind. Fans screaming, police lights flashing, flashes of black fabric. You glance back into Steve’s bright blue eyes and feel anxiety rising in your chest. It gets harder to breathe and your fingers start to feel like they’re vibrating. You can’t do this. You shouldn’t do this. You’re not ready. But Steve’s pleading eyes are too strong for your will. You sigh deeply, running a hand over your face.

“Alright fine,” you respond. “Just give me a second to figure this out.”

Steve nods and you turn toward Candy with a deep breath. She wastes no time, jumping over the counter and grabbing onto your wrist to drag you into the kitchen where your boss, Frank, is cooking up a storm.

“What the hell’s going on out there?” Frank asks, wiping sweat from his forehead. “If you’re slacking, I can replace you quicker than a flash.”

“Well, that’s actually something we wanna talk to you about,” Candy says, and you frantically shake your head at her. “A Mr. Steve Binder from NBC Studios just stopped by and he’s looking for some people to join a live audience for a show they’re recording across the street. It’s an Elvis Presley show.”

“Is it one of those goddamn movies again?” Frank asks. “Cause if I have to hear one more word about those shitty films again, I’ll fire both of your asses.”

You shoot a pleading glance at Candy and mouth the word ‘no’, but she just rolls her eyes and shakes her head at Frank’s rude comment.

“No, it’s a musical performance, Frank. And don’t threaten us like that,” she responds, and you feel panic start to pump through your veins.

“What does any of this have to do with me, anyway?” Frank asks gruffly. “I don’t care what you do in your free time.”

“Y/N and I are leaving work early to go be a part of the audience,” Candy says, angrily. “That’s what it has to do with you.”

A clanging noise sounds as Frank drops his metal spatula onto the grill. You drop your head into your hands, clutching onto the roots of your hair and dreading what words will come next.

“What did you say?” Frank asks, turning around with an irate expression on his ugly, bulbous features. You know he isn’t really asking Candy to repeat herself but giving her a chance to change her answer. She keeps her mouth in a straight, flat line, refusing to budge.

“If you think you two little girls can just leave whenever the hell you want, you’re wrong,” he says, jabbing a fat swollen finger at you both. “You walk outta here right now, you’re fired. I don’t wanna see your damn face in here again, do you understand me?”

You falter, feeling all of the blood drain from your face. No, no, no. You can’t be fired. You need this job. But apparently, Candy doesn’t.

“So be it,” she says resolutely. “Come on, Y/N, let’s go be on live television.”

Before you have a chance to fall to your knees and beg for forgiveness from Frank, Candy’s fingers are latching onto your arm and dragging you away.

“Goddamn it! Fired!” Frank yells as you both dash out of the kitchen. “Do you hear me? FIRED! If I EVER see your faces in this restaurant again, I will-”

The rest of what he says is cut off when Candy slams the front door to Chadney’s, never to be opened again. Steve is waiting for you outside, and he perks up when you both approach him. You don’t hear a word of his greeting or Candy’s introduction. So many anxieties and worries are running through your brain. Your whole body feels cold and shaky, and all you can do is focus on remembering to breathe before you have a mental breakdown. The cold air-conditioned breeze shakes you back into consciousness when you walk into the NBC Studios building.

“Alright, so I’ll take you over to costuming and get you all set up, and then we’ll cart you out to the stage,” Steve explains as you dodge people running up and down the hallway with all kinds of props, costumes, and various objects.

“I thought you wanted ‘authentic people,’” you counter as Candy drags you along. You lean out of the way and nearly miss a man carting a huge stuffed moose down the narrow hallway.

“Oh, we do, but we want to make sure that everyone is styled as contemporarily as possible,” Steve says. “No offense to your uniforms.”

You quirk an eyebrow, not the least bit offended. You despise that faded blue dress with the hideous red Chadney’s logo over the left lapel. The creamy white tennis shoes are even more atrocious. Steve leads you both into the costuming room where there are dozens of people everywhere getting dressed in bright yellows, reds, greens, and blues.

“This is Barbara, and she’s gonna help style you today,” Steve says, gesturing to a middle-aged blonde woman with black squared glasses. “For Y/N, we want to put her in something extra stylish because she’s gonna stationed right in front of the camera.”

“Woah, woah, wait!” you say, holding your hands up. “What? No, Steve, I don’t want to be right in front of the camera. I would actually much prefer to get lost in the crowd as much as possible.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re everything we’re looking for as our front girl,” he says, dismissively waving his hand. “I think this one, Barb.”

You’re too busy having your third massive freak out in the last twenty minutes to pay attention to the fabric Steve pulls for you. Barbara shoves you behind a changing stall, pushing a hanger in your face. You reach for Candy only to see her being pulled away to a different stylist.

“Go ahead and get dressed, honey,” Barbara says hurriedly. “Then we’ll figure out what to do with your hair. Oh, before I forget, what shoe size are you?”

You just have enough time to shout your size at her before she’s running off among the chaos around you. You sheepishly duck behind the stall and yank your work uniform off. As quickly as you can, you pull the soft fabric of a dress over your skin. You glance down at the garment. It’s gorgeous. It has a deep red top with fluffy sleeves and little buttons. And the skirt portion is full of rust, orange, yellow, and white floral patterns. Surprisingly, the dress seems to fit very well, perhaps a bit small and tight in some places. By the time you’ve finished admiring it, Barbara is pulling you out to throw a pair of white gogo boots at you. You stuff your sweaty feet into them as Barbara pulls at your hair. It happens so fast that you can’t even comprehend how, but she somehow gets your hair into a beautifully relaxed beehive with a little orange headband that matches one of the colors on the skirt.

“You look great! Now get out there, we’re almost out of time,” she says, pushing you toward the door.

You really wish you could see yourself and at least know what you look like before you go out to be broadcast, apparently front and center, to the American public. But you get swept up by the other audience members rushing toward the stage. You aren’t really sure where you’re going, so you just mosey along with the big group and hope someone knows the right way. Eventually, you find yourself in a rough line, spanning out into the hallway. You can hear someone’s voice, it's familiar but you can’t place it, as he directs people around the tiny red stage in the middle of the room. You peer around the line to get a look at the man with the familiar voice and smile to yourself when you recognize his glasses and shaggy haircut.

Bones Howe, Steve’s business partner. You’d met here and there but would be surprised if he remembers you. You and Steve are cousins, yes, but not blood-related, so the times you see each other are rare. You step up after the older woman in front of you who reeks of cheap perfume.

“Y/N! Hi, nice to see you again. Wow, Steve was right, you look great. Just what we’re looking for,” he says with a big smile.

“Hi Bones,” you chuckle, feeling flattered at the fact that he remembers you.

“Alright so we’re gonna have you placed right here,” he says, pointing and pushing your back gently to guide you. “Now just a quick reminder to act natural but also remember that the camera will be on you the majority of the time. So just don’t pick your nose or do anything you wouldn’t want your mother to see. Thanks again for doing this!”

Before you can ask a question or say ‘you’re welcome,’ he’s gone. You shrug and take your place, once again directly by the stage. Just as you’re settling in, lazily glancing around to see if you can find Candy, someone slides in next to you.

“Hi! I’m Trixie!” a high-pitched voice says and a small hand reaches out beside you. You turn to see a beautiful woman, tall and curvy, with dark black hair and bright brown eyes. She’s wearing a turtleneck sweater, a plaid skirt, and matching knee thighs with heels. All in a vivid color of bright lavender that compliments her skin perfectly. You smile, reaching to shake her hand.

“Y/N,” you respond with a smile. “I love your outfit.”

“Thanks! I picked it out myself,” she says. “So, did you call in on the radio, too?”

“Uh…no, no I sort of…got picked, I guess,” you respond with furrowed eyebrows. Call in on the radio?

“Oh, very fancy! I called in as soon as I heard on the radio. Are you an Elvis fan? I’ve been to three of his concerts, own all his records, and seen all his films,” she says, leaning against the stage with a big smile.

“Yes, big fan!” you say, nodding. “I’ve also seen all his movies. And I’ve only been to one concert but it was…the best night of my life, honestly.”

Minus the riot that broke out after…

“Wow, that’s awesome! Which concert, I wonder if we could have been at the same one?”

“Russwood Park 1956,” you say with a deep breath.

“Wow, that must have been amazing! I remember reading about it in the papers,” Trixie says. “What was it like?”

Just as you’re about to answer, you hear that familiar voice again and glance up to see Bones kneeling down next to you.

“Ladies, if I could actually bother you both to sit up here on the stage, that would be incredible,” Bones says with a wink. “We want to make sure that it looks casual, like Elvis is just a regular guy hanging out with a bunch of kids. Alright, great!”

You look at Trixie and shrug with a nervous smile. You both hop up onto the stage, sitting sideways next to each other. You glance around you to see that a huge crowd has packed in behind you.

“Hi all and welcome to NBC Studios!”

Applause erupts all around you, and you gently clap your hands together.

“We’re so pleased to have all of you, and we’re super excited for the show. Just a few things before we get started to make sure everything goes as smoothly as possible.”

He points up toward a flashing red light that says APPLAUSE. Very subtle...

“Now when that sign lights up, what do you do?” Bones asks.

The crowd erupts into applause again, and you shake your head at the sheer absurdity of it all. Bones continues to explain how things are going to work.

“And lastly, ladies and gentleman, this is television not radio, so when that goes on and you clap, let's see it on your faces.”

The crowd claps again, and you glance around to admire the variety of expressions on the faces of the audience members. Some are definitely more cut out for this acting natural thing than others.

“Now Elvis is performing tonight just for you so keep that in mind. Let that inspire you,” Bones says. “And without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, here’s Elvis Presley.

And there he is, indeed. Ironically in black, again, just like the last time you saw him. He takes the stage with a smile, and you drink him in. He looks incredible, tan and fit and happy, probably better than he had when you’d seen him last. But he seems nervous, a feeling which you hadn’t noticed the last time you’d seen him. He shakes himself out and glances around for a moment, nodding, before grabbing his guitar. You feel Trixie latch onto your hand and squeeze excitedly. You shoot her a smile as he begins to sing.

Heartbreak Hotel, one of your favorites. You feel a smile spreading across your face as his hips start to move back and forth with the beat of the song. His voice is incredible, even better than it had been when he was young. Back then, it was smoother, higher pitched. Now, it’s deep, rich, and raspy. A man’s voice. You bring a hand up to cover your mouth as he leans back, holding the microphone stand tightly. His eyes travel backward as a smirk crawls onto his face. And for a quick second, your heart stops and smile drops.

Had he seen you? No, it’s impossible. You’re kidding yourself and hoping for something that won’t happen. Something unbelievable.

So you think, until he tilts his head down and stares right at you. There’s no mistaking it this time. His eyes are trained on you for a few seconds until he removes the guitar and hands it off to a bandmate. He drops to his knees right in front of you and pushes his crotch up into your face. A sense of deja vu hits you like a brick. You suck in a sharp breath and throw a hand onto your face in embarrassment as you catch him wink at you. When he gets up to go back to center stage, you feel your chest release a shaky breath.

Despite everything in your body telling you this isn’t real, here you are again. Somehow almost in the exact same spot you had been during the performance in 1956 in Memphis. Right by the stage, right where you can see him. And he can see you. Your lips part, and you grip hard onto the fabric of the orange dress, feeling the blood once again drain from your face. You’d never thought you’d ever see him again. You couldn’t believe how lucky you’d been to see him the first time around at all. It’s 12 years ago now. You were only 16 then, now you were almost 30. Everything had changed that day. Your expectations for life, your standards for men, your understanding of sex. Everything.

You were just a face in the crowd, nothing special. Sure, you’d fought your way up to the front, but you were so small then. It was just easier for you to get there and weave through the crowd. You were just watching him in that black suit as he threw himself around onstage. You’d screamed with the other fans, gripped at the stage, overreacted like the teenage girl you were. There was nothing special about you. You were utterly ordinary. Until he’d knelt down by you, right in front of you, and reached out with his beautiful slender fingers, curled those fingers around your chin…

You absentmindedly reach up to touch the skin on your jaw, remembering the feeling of his strong grasp on the bones underneath the skin.

How it felt to have him touch you. You, out of everyone else in the crowd. He’d leaned so close to you, so close that you could see the beads of sweat on his skin, rolling down his dark black hair. He’d sang right to you. Right in your face as his eyes searched yours and he gripped onto your jaw. You’ll never forget the feeling of emptiness when he’d left your space. When he’d retreated from you. The need, the desire you felt to get him back. To have him next to you again. To have him that close to you. You would never forget that day in Russwood Park. Never.

You smile as you watch him, knowing that you’ll never forget this moment in time either. He moves around similarly to how he used to but with even more confidence now. He doesn’t have the body of a child anymore, but a man’s frame. Tall and thick. Your eyes gravitate toward his ass, and your mouth falls open as you watch it move. The full leather suit he wears hugs him in all the right places, especially there. You bite your lip at the way the fabric moves against him and shines in the light. A few people around you start to sing along, so you join in, clapping to the time. You drop your face into your hands, feeling heat creep into your cheeks as he wiggles around on stage again. You clap with a huge smile on your face as he speaks into the mic.

“It’s been a long time, baby. A long time,” he says.

After he performs, the crew brings a stool up onto the stage and he sits to chat about his career and where he’s at in his life right now.

“But that’s one thing about this tv special that I’m doing,” he’s saying, “They’re gonna let me do what I wanna do. Sing the music that I want. The music that I love. The music that makes me happy.”

You catch him glancing up at something, and your eyes follow his gaze to rest on a beautiful woman sitting in the upper sections. His wife, Priscilla. You recognize her from the magazine covers you’ve seen of them together. You’d been crushed when they’d gotten married. Of course you’re happy for them both and never at all expected that he would fall in love with you or anything like that. You knew it was implausible, but still, you had hope. Hope that was all but crushed when Mrs. Presley became a reality.

You shake off the slight disappointment that you feel trying to settle into your chest and enjoy the rest of the show. Even though Elvis’ back is toward you for the remainder of the taping, you still love hearing him talk about himself and his music. You’re having such a great time that what ends up taking three hours feels like three minutes. And you can forget, for that time, about the fact that you no longer have a stable income. You crane your neck as Elvis walks off the stage, smiling and waving to the crowd. You want to see as much of him as humanly possible. It could be the last time.

You watch as he stops momentarily to talk to a tall man with shaggy blondish hair. You turn to Trixie, who is gushing about the performance but glance back at Elvis out of the corner of your eye to see him gesturing toward your area of the stage. For a moment, your heart skips a beat but you shake yur head. No, he couldn’t possibly have singled you out again. That would make you too lucky. Way too lucky.

After the show, you’re ushered back into the costuming area and stripped of your clothes. You sigh and shrug back on your old uniform with all the ketchup and coffee stains. As soon as the fabric hits your skin, it’s a harsh reminder that you need to find a job. Like yesterday. You emerge from the changing station and gently place the dress on a table with other random pieces of clothing, but not before fishing out a small strip of worn paper. Trixie had written her name, address, and phone number on it. She’d said she’s looking for a roommate and, apparently, really likes you enough to consider you. Maybe it’s time for a move, after all.

“Thanks for your help, Barbara,” you say. She glances up at you with her magnified eyes and smiles warmly. “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know where I can find Mr. Binder, would you? I have something I wanted to ask him about.”

“Upstairs, to the right in the recording studio,” she responds. “If you get lost just ask someone and tell them Barb sent you.”

You thank her again and place the white gogo boots on the floor next to the table. But as you turn to leave, Barbara’s voice stops you.

“Take them,” she says softly, gesturing to the boots and the dress. “They were made for you.”

You normally wouldn’t indulge such an offer, but now that you’re jobless, you figure some free stuff can’t hurt. You smile and reach down to grab the outfit, tucking it under your arm as you wind your way around the crowds and pockets of people. When you get upstairs, you take a moment to glance around at the posters on the wall. Your eyebrows raise as you see one for Star Trek. Very cool. Your eyes swing to the right and you see what looks like, to your untrained eyes, a recording studio. You debate knocking but aren’t sure if it’ll interfere with any of the recording process, so you just quietly step in and press your back to the wall.

“Cue the gospel number now,” Steve says quickly, and you lean away from the door as a lumbering fat man waddles in.

“No,” the fat man mumbles, “None of this will be in the special.”

He gestures toward two businessmen sitting across the doorway. You hadn’t even noticed them when you’d walked in, but they look displeased in their stiff black suits.

“Can you make a note that that should be in the special,” Steve says, and you chuckle to yourself. “Now let’s segue straight into the whorehouse dancers.”

Your mouth drops open and you throw a hand over your mouth. Steve continues to bring more crazy and wild aspects into the special, and you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing audibly. The way Elvis’ manager frantically looks from screen to screen wracks your body with silent hisses.

Suddenly, the cast and crew start running frantically and screaming. Your laughing stops abruptly and your attention is pulled to a crew member as they dash into the room.

“Robert Kennedy’s been shot!!”

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