#for the record she ain't wrong

[frazzledsoul]

We are never getting Japril content ever again, are we?

[butterflies-and-bumble-bees]

about to scream

[b0ther]

ain't even jealousy

you fucking hate the basketball team, but there's no one you hate more than aomine.

pairing : aomine daiki x reader (feminine pronouns. afab) rating : explicit, not safe for work (sexual content) type : chaptered tags : aomine is a bully im not even kidding he is quite cruel, porn with PLOT, reader is besties with satsuki, reader also has a crush on imayoshi, reader also was wakamatsu's ex, hate sex, semi-public sex, manhandling, vaginal penetration, thigh fucking, semi-clothed sex, some slutshaming going on here, reader has big tits, slight dubcon. word count : 4,323

author's note : title from 'want u back' by cher lloyd. this is comissioned by a dear friend. hope you enjoy mwah. this first chapter (and whole fic im ngl) is centered around the onsen episode.

( masterlist │ ask/request │ ao3 )

After a long and hard day at school, all that you ever really want to do is to quickly get to your part-time job and finish up your shift. Perhaps you can get some convenient store food after that, or go straight home to shower and rest.

Whatever it is that you daydreamed of, it wasn't this.

Satsuki calls out to you, her voice soft against the bristling wind with her lithe arms circle around yours as you try to walk away, dragging her body forcefully with you. She whines your name over and over again, over the beating speaker against your ears before you finally had enough, ripping your headphones off your head, turning to face her.

“Satsuki!” You try to sound stern, but you end up whining in the same tone that she used. You can only be so serious as a high school girl, after all.

Her pink strands fall against her face messily; you use your other hand to tuck them behind her ear as she elongates the way she enunciates your name and begs, begs, begs you to listen to her. “Please! Just—”

“Satsuki!” You groan, shaking her off your body. “I’m busy. I have a part-time job, I’m failing maths, I have club activities. I can’t just… ditch everything and go !”

“You can!” It’s like she was not listening to a single word that you uttered. “It’s a month away and on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday—which you can begin asking for a leave day starting today , they will definitely let you if you do it a month in advance!—and maths!? That’s easy! I’ll teach you!”

You slant your eyes at her, arms crossing on your chest. “Alright. What about my club activities?”

“You mean your journalist club? One that encourages their members to leave their comfort zone in order to bring back interesting stories? One that basically has a crush on the basketball team?”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, don’t be dramatic.”

She gasps. “Don’t you love me!?”

“Don’t do this to me…”

“If you love me at all, you wouldn’t even think twice about going with me. Imagine me, a girl, going alone on an all-boys’ trip to some secluded place—”

“You’re being dramatic—” You tried reiterating your point.

“I’m not!” She whines, even louder this time, attracting attention from all the other Touou students around you. “You literally have nothing to lose by coming along! Give me five reasons—five good reasons—and I will literally stop bothering you.”

You shake her off again, and this time, Satsuki lets go and stumbles back a couple of steps as the mischief on her eye continues to shimmer. You have never lost an argument to Satsuki—but there is a first for everything, and you have a feeling that you are going to break some personal records today.

“First,” you take a deep breath as you hold up a finger. “Aomine’s gonna be there—”

“Perfect!” Not giving you a chance to speak, she cuts you off, eyes glimmering like starlight. “You like him!”

She strikes a nerve with this one.

One of your eyes twitches as you cross your arms under your chest. The excited smile on her face fades in an instant, recognizing in an instant that something is wrong.

Recognizing in an instant that something she should have known about is wrong.

She blinks a couple of times, trying to use all that intelligence in her head to analyse the error in what she said (which turns out pretty useless—guess all that she is good for is basketball).

“Have you been paying attention at all?” You begin to blabber after letting out a huge gasp, arms waving around in the air. “We’ve been friends for years— years ! Since the first year of middle school, and you know nothing of  my strong, burning opinion of Aomine!? Flash news, Satsuki, it’s not love!”

“You—” She stammers, “You talk about him a lot!”

“I complain about him a lot!” You correct her, blowing out air in frustration, feeling somewhat betrayed that your best friend had just accused you of liking your archnemesis… your enemy… your… your rival.

The point is! You hate him!

You would rather live in a world without television and the internet and good music if it means that you will have to never hear him say another word.

Aomine.

You shiver in annoyance.

Just saying his name irks the hell out of you. Imagining his face causes a feeling close to that of an explosion in your chest. You just wanna grab him by his face and shove him down a flight of stairs.

You cannot even count all the shitty things he did to you in high school: revealing your crush on Nijimura Shuuzou not just to the then-basketball team captain, but the entire student body; tripping you in the cafeteria multiple times; stealing your undergarments during P.E. and commenting crassly about how you were two sizes under his favourite adult model. Granted, you never told Satsuki about the last thing. That shit was just too embarrassing—you were glad that no one else was in the room when he threw your bra back at you.

Still, your frustration remains at her. Jogging down memory lane boils your wrath, and you close your eyes to calm yourself down.

He’s just a bully.

A damned bully.

And you would be damned if you are going to willingly spend your weekends in the same vicinity as him.

“Well… Dai-chan likes you!”

You roll your eyes.

Yeah, right.

You would agree if she had claimed that he found you attractive, or he thinks you’re hot. But liking you? Highly improbable—impossible, even.

Aomine Daiki does not seem like he is capable of feeling any emotion aside from boredom and mischief. The only thing he loves, or even likes, is probably his beloved Aya-chan from his gravure magazines.

You’re not even sure if he still likes basketball.

Which is a shame—seeing someone so tall gradually shrinking to the size of nothing, even if you despise the guy, the whole ordeal with whatever-the-fuck Satsuki’s basketball team went through still managed to extract some sympathy from the bottom of your heart. You’ve been paying attention to Aomine, after all, albeit not under any positive light.

“Whatever,” from past experiences, you know better than to argue against Satsuki. “I don’t care anymore. And you know what? Aomine himself and your blatant disregard of your best friend’s feelings—me!—should be enough to fit all five criterias!”

You know that look in her eyes, the way her lips press against each other and how one of her hands is clenched into a fist. 

“I’ve been friends with him for 16 years, (Y/N),” she bumps her fist against her chest in pride. “Best friends, even! I know him better than you do!”

You scoff. “People who like someone don’t bully them, Satsuki. Open your eyes.”

“He isn’t bullying you!” She groans.

“Oh, so now not only are you attempting to kidnap me, but you’re also defending my bully?”

“Argh!” Satsuki hugs your arm again, earning her a groan from you. She calls out your name again, enunciating each and every syllable. “ Pleeeaaaaseeee? You don’t have to pay a single dime! You don’t even have to see Dai-chan if you want to. Imayoshi-san will be there—you like him, right?”

You slant your eyes at her in suspicion, not buying anything she just told you. You just know that you will have to see Aomine sooner or later if you come with her to the onsen. 

“No man is ever worth that much headache, Satsuki.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, still shaking you ferociously. “But it’s Imayoshi-san!”

You decided to come along. Because of course you did.

It’s either that, or Satsuki pestering you for the rest of the month, bringing either Imayoshi or Aomine or whoever she thinks will get your attention.

And Imayoshi Shouichi? Sure. He’s hot as hell.

But is he worth dealing with Aomine?

You like to think not.

Satsuki dragged you along to a basketball team meeting—the one that would be discussing the practice trip and the whole onsen ordeal.

It wasn’t like you needed to be there at all. You know just a little more than the average person about basketball. All that you were preparing for the onsen was your clothes and deciding whether it’s you or Satsuki who should be bringing her hairdryer.

“Why me?” You said, crossing your arms when the attention of the entire basketball team was redirected towards you, and Imayoshi laughed. The only problem they were facing was convincing Aomine to come along.

And you were happy with not being the babysitter. You were happy with twiddling your skirt as you sat on the edge of the stage of the hall, scrolling down your social media timeline as the team argued on how to get that blue-haired freak into coming.

That was until Satsuki ruined your afternoon by offering up your name.

To your surprise, everyone in the team seemingly agreed almost immediately to offer you as a sacrificial lamb to feed Aomine’s ego and coax him to at least come to the trip.

“He likes you,” Wakamatsu scoffed when you asked why, and you glared at him, but said nothing. Out of respect, you guess, to the upperclassman. It’s not like you respect him, though. You’re on bad terms with a lot of the basketball team, but no matter your disagreements with Wakamatsu, you will never dislike him the way you loathe Aomine.

“He does have a soft spot for you,” Imaoyshi mused as he flashed you a smile—and lord , you cannot say no to Imayoshi. Especially when he’s being so nice.

You saw Satsuki smirking from the corner of your eyes and internally cursed her.

That was how you found yourself climbing the ladder leading to the rooftop. 

And that was how you found Aomine with one hand between his backpack and head, and the other holding an obscene magazine.

He doesn’t even spare you a single glance—probably thought you were another manager or even worse: Satsuki again. But the moment you open your mouth to call out to him, his head snaps in your direction, an eyebrow raised in amusement as he pushes himself to rest his body against his elbows.

“What are you doing here?”

You try not to let your rage spill. You try to keep the boiling water down. You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and continue to climb the ladder before approaching him.

Think rational, you think to yourself, he hadn’t even said anything yet.

“The Captain wants to see you,” you manage to say between your gritted teeth, staring down at him before looking away. Imayoshi didn’t ask you to make Aomine see him, but Aomine probably respects Imayoshi more than you, so you try to throw him under the bus just to get out of the situation quicker.

“Imayoshi-san?” He frowns before repeating his initial question: “What the fuck are you doing here?”

I want to punch him.

“You own this roof or something?”

“Calm down,” he scoffs, tilting his head before eyeing your body up and down. You shift your weight into your other leg, ignoring the uneasy feeling on the pit of your stomach. “I just wanted to know.”

Sighing, you glance up at the sunny sky, sweat starting to form on the base of your neck and you are dying to leave at that very moment. You shelter your eyes from the sunlight, despite finding it more appealing than Aomine’s face.

“We’re discussing the practice trip thing—whatever, and also the onsen trip,” you lazily explain, not bothering to hide your disinterest. “Imayoshi-senpai wants you to be present for the meeting. Obviously.”

You cannot fathom the fact that you were explaining his basic responsibilities as a club member to him. What a fucking child.

“You coming with us?”

His focus seems to be misplaced, and you glare at the sky, imagining it was his stupid face.

“I’m going with Satsuki,” you correct, still not willing to look at him. “I don’t give two shits about you or the basketball team.”

“Hey,” he sits up, wrapping his fingers around your wrist before tugging your body towards him. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

You scoff, finally letting your gazes meet before pulling your hand away. “Fuck off.”

He, in fact, does not fuck off.

Aomine pulls on your wrist again, this time hard enough for you to lose your balance and fall, your knees landing on the coarse floor as the bottom of your skirt rides up your thighs. The skin of your knees scraping against the gravelled surface and you curse, jerking your hand away only to immediately shove his shoulder.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” You shriek, annoyed at how he remains unmoving even as you push him again.

He towers you, even when sitting, and keeps his eyes peering down at you.

Maybe it’s the heat that day; summer has just ended, but even the soft Autumn breeze cannot conceal the searing flare creeping up the skin of your cheeks. Aomine slants his eyes and grabs your wrist yet again—you weren’t quick enough to retract away from his athletic instincts, and so, you fall again when he pulls you in closer.

You hiss in pain as your knees drag more against the floor, desperate to find your balance only to grab on his shoulders.

“Hey,” He calls out to you, a lame attempt for your attention. “Look,” he says again, and your dumb ass looks.

He grabs the magazine on his lap and tautens the pages together, showing you the spread where he left off before you interrupted his peaceful afternoon. “(Y/N), remember Aya-chan?”

The girl that ruined your life?

How can you forget?

You cannot hide the distaste in your eyes as your eyes scan her beautiful, black hair falling against the sheer material of her white uniform top. The black lace bra she was wearing underneath is apparent as she pushes her two tits against each other, legs spread to reveal an equally seductive pattern on her panties.

Before you even realise, Aomine’s arm begins to wrap itself around your waist as he holds you up, fingers creeping up the side of your torso, tracing invisible lines before resting on one of your breasts. Your stomach begins to churn in excitement, embarrassingly enough, and you press your legs instinctively when the muscle between your thighs tighten as he continues fondling you.

You circle your arm around his neck under the pretence of keeping your balance.

“Mhmm…” He clicks his tongue, resting his face on the side of your upper arm—his nose touching the side of your tit as his hand palms your other one. “I feel like you’re no longer two sizes under Aya-chan. Maybe a size under? Maybe the same size?”

You grit your teeth. “You talk big. Have you ever seen her outside your magazine? She probably edits her photos.”

He grins, gaze shifting to drink in your frustration. “No, but you’re real, and I’m groping you right now. Isn’t that better?”

“Better than your pretty Aya-chan?”

Aomine raises an eyebrow, humming knowingly. You can’t even believe the word escaping your mouth.

“You have a cute side to you after all,” He muses after a short, mocking whistle. “What do you want me to say? Want me to tell you how much better you are than her?”

“Want you to shut the fuck up.”

“Calm down, tiger.” He laughs, pulling away from your arm. He tosses the magazine to the side, straightening his back to press a short kiss to the peak of your cheekbone. His hand begins to work; he slowly kneads your breast while continuously trailing kisses down to your ears. Your nipples brush against the fabric of your damned lace bra, and he stops for a moment only to tug on where your bud is protruding.

A whimper leaves your mouth.

“Excited are we?” He whispers, voice dropping lower as he presses his lips against your ears. “I like hearing you like that.”

“Shut up,” you run out of words, turning your head to the other side, exposing your neck to him. Which turns out to be a bad idea, as he takes it as a sign to sweep his tongue over the skin of your neck.

“A–Aomine—”

“God,” he chuckles. “Who would’ve guessed that you can be this sexy?”

He pulls away from your neck, and drags his hand from your tits to rub against your torso, feeling the material of your uniform. He presses one hand on the small of your back, pressing his forehead against yours. In a swift motion, he pulls on your body, drawing out a squeak as he lays you down against the concrete floor.

“What if…” he trails, rubbing a thumb under your eye as he hovers over rested body. Your cheeks sear with heat, alongside your chest and the pulsating on your cunt. “...I just fuck you right here?”

“W-what?” You whimper.

He laughs. “I’m hard as hell. You made me this way.”

“You were the one groping my tits!”

“You liked it,” he shrugs, pushing himself off of you, forcing both your legs open as he moves between them. His fingers begin to unbutton your uniform, unravelling the bra you are wearing underneath. Sucking in a deep breath, he stops midway down your torso, and without taking his eyes off your chest, he asks, “Want me to stop?”

Your cheeks flare, and you don’t answer him. You don;t even look at him.

He takes a quick glance at your expression.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’.”

“...Whatever.”

A wide smirk forms on his face, fingers continuing to unbutton your uniform all the way down.

“Do me a favour and get up for a bit,” he murmurs, pressing one of his hands against your back once again to get you to sit up. The feeling of his palm against your bare skin sends you to shivers, coupled with the soft wind whistling between the two of you.

“What’re you—”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as his fingers fumble with the hook of your bra. It took him two wrong moves before getting it right with the third—the fabric loosens around your body, and you pull him closer to conceal your humiliated expression.

“See,” Aomine chuckles after some awkward motion, tossing your stupid bra to the side when he finally gets it off. “You’re so pretty like this.”

“Shut up,” you groan, nails digging into his skin deeper and deeper.

He pulls himself away from your grip, taking a nice hold on your torso to pull your ass up his lap, letting you fall against the hard floor again.

“Goddamn,” he mutters, roaming his touches against your legs. His eyes cannot leave the heaves of your jugs.

“Stop fucking staring,” your hiss, trying to pull your uniform together, hiding your chest away from him.

Aomine scoffs, using one hand to unbuckle his pants. Your eyes travelled from his face to the loose button on his collar to the wet stain on the grey briefs around his hips to the bulge underneath them.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

He tilts his head at your question, furrowing his eyebrows as he takes his cock out from under his briefs. “Fucking you?”

The precum leaks from the tip of his cock, little drops of white strings rolling down his length. He pulls your hips closer to his body and presses it flat against your soaked panties.

He groans at the contact. Your warm slick welcomes him entirely as he presses more against the fabric, rubbing his tip along the length of your pussy.

“S’that feel good?” He whispers, hastily hooking his fingers on your panties, pulling it up your legs, then tossing it to go with your bra. He presses his arm on the side of your head, leaning into you again.

“Don’t put it in,” you whine, trying to hold back your hips from rolling. “You’re gonna get me pregnant.”

“You can’t say shit like that,” he groans against your neck. He positions the tip of his cock against your cunt, and even with your sopping lips, you aren’t sure if you are ready to accommodate his size at all. 

“You don’t want to be a teen dad,” you bite your lower lip, hand going to rub his neck.

“I wanna fuck you, though,” he breathes, using his thumb to run along your wet slit. “Wanna fuck you raw, wanna cum inside’a you.”

You tremble with his words, feeling two of his fingers now circling your pussy. “D— don’t be stupid.”

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers, making your cunt wish it has something to tighten around. “D’you know how long I’ve been wanting to get you like this?”

He pushes himself off of you, and holds your wounded knees as he watches your chest heaves, heavy tits rolling with every staggered breath. He flips your skirt over, exposing even more of your cunt to the chill.

He rubs his length against your slick, his tip now pushing against your swelling clit. “I’d jack off and wonder if you were tighter than my fist,” he wraps his cock with his hand and places it again on your entrance, pushing in a slow, deliberate motion.

Between your drooping eyelids, you saw him inaudibly mutter a curse.

“Used to wanna fight Wakamatsu ‘cus he’d stuff this pussy all he wanted. Right?” He scoffs with a stupid, satisfied smile that you wish you could wipe off his face. “Shame that you broke it off, huh? Did he dump you when he realised how much of a whore you are?”

“Shut up…”

“Well, I don’t care. More fun for me.”

“Aomine—“

“Who else have you fucked in the basketball team?” He grunts. “In Touou?”

“Shut— shut the…”

You slap the back of your hand against your mouth—not willing at all to let him hear you be satisfied with his size—biting down on the flesh as he pushes his cock in. All of his cock in.

“Aomine—”

His cock is dragging against your wall, kissing every possible inch of your insides. Your hole continues to burn as he stretches you wide open, draining every last bit of energy from inside of you.

“ F-fuck…”

Your hand goes to fondle your own tit, rolling your hard nipple between your fingers, sloppily trying to garner more and more pleasure. His dick fills you more and more, stuffing you full, before finally stopping.

“Don’t act all reserved now,” he raises an eyebrow as you mewl out his name. He stays still for a moment, a bud of sweat rolling down his temple before pulling out of your homey cunt. “You don’t have to lie.”

Aomine bites his lips, letting his cock rest between your pussy lips. He sees the way they engulf his dick, moving his hips to rub against your core.

“Letting me fuck you on the school rooftop,” he murmurs, “where’s your fucking self-respect? Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if this isn’t your first time getting dicked down up here.”

Your eyes slant up at him, but he quickly shuts down any of your retaliation by pressing his thumb flat against your clit, slowly circling the nub. Your teeth press down hard on your bottom lips.

“We aren’t— we are not …” You babble, putting a thumb between your teeth to stop yourself from moaning, “...having sex.”

He scoffs, drinking in how your eyes roll with your head turned to the side.

“I was inside you just a moment ago.”

Filthy noise of his cock squelching against your cunt filled the air—if someone were to come after you, they would hear Aomine’s dick fucking your pussy lips.

“Fuck,”Aomine spits, pressing your legs tightly against each other then down on your lips.

“A-ah,” You gasp as he drills into your thighs, the tip of his cock rubbing quick and hard against your swollen clit. “Oh my God—”

“Are you cummin’?” He breathes, one hand reaching to roll your tit on his hand. “Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, and you whine at the nickname. He snickers, “You’re so sexy like this, y’know that?”

Your back arches, little whimpers of encouragement swallow your pride whole as you fall completely into him. Aomine grunts at the expression, seeing the lewd expression on your face. He picks up the pace, slamming his hips against your ass.

“M’gonna cum,” he hisses. “Fuck. Wish I could shoot my load into your tight little cunt.”

“Fuck it,” you manage to spit between your groans, “F-fuck it. Just— oh God, just don’t stop—”

Your words rile him up even more—he tightens his grip on your leg, his fingers bruising your fragile skin. Your head begins to spin. Your slam your fists against the ground and your mind numbing orgasm comes the moment strings of Aomine’s thick, white cum comes flying down your skirt and stomach.

“Shit,” he loosens the grip on your legs, letting them fall even with your still convulsing ass and core. His gaze stays on the tip of his dick, the white cum oozing from it, then to your face—your parted lips, dumb eyes, and the sweat dripping down the side of your head down your neck.

He feels himself getting harder as he watches your plump lips whine, wondering how they would wrap around his thick length, if the colour of your lipstick would stain the veins of his cock.

“You coming to the onsen trip?” Aomine tries to distract himself.

You roll over, blindly reaching out for the bra that he tossed God knows where.

“Fuck you.”

[syrma-sensei]

→ Somewhere In Your Heart, Ch.1: Tenderly.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Fem!reader.

Rating: Explicit.

Setting: Pre-canon; in the early 1980s.

Warnings/tags: Ben's foul mouth, sexual innuendos, misogyny, racism, antiquated mentality...

Summary: Soldier Boy lives through the ennui of his peak, but everything is about to change when he has a shift in his heart.

Soldier Boy rolls his eyes at Legend, “No, ain't doing another stupid song. Let Noir do that shit, the kid's been so fucking eager to see his star shine.”

“It wasn't that bad, people loved it. Your fans loved it, and they want more from you,” Legend tries to reason, “Plus, can't win a Grammy award for best record of the year if it sucks. Moreover, it's pretty popular among the young folks.”

The supe sneers, taking a gulp from his drink, he relishes in the burning in his throat even if it's momentarily, “The young folks can suck on my balls. Honestly, the fuck went wrong with young men these days, huh?” He clicks his tongue, “Christ, it is true; good times do create weak, sappy men.” His head jerks to the side sardonically, “Bunch of pussies seeking some women's attention with shitty songs and snivelling lyrics. Chicks don't want no men like that.”

“Yeah well,” Legend shakes his head, a sly grin on his face, “The world's changing, Soldier Boy, if you don't keep up with it, you might end up outdated, just saying.”

Soldier Boy raises a conceited eyebrow, “I'm America's son, hero of all heroes, an actual fucking legend; people practically worship the ground I walk on. In what fucked up sense would that seem to you outdated anytime soon?”

“Time is a tricky thing,” Legend answers with a sigh, “But only for us I presume. I mean look at ya, your sixty-fourth birthday was last month and you don't look a day past thirty. Some lucky bastard you are.”

Soldier Boy grins smugly, placing his glass on the coffee table in front of him where they sat in the living room of his personal quarters in Vought America tower.

Legend decides not to take the time topic any further, because he knows better, such discussions with the strongest supe ever lived are futile and meaningless. Furthermore, he doesn't want to poke Soldier Boy's massive ego, the latter isn't infamous for his temper for nothing. Legend is back to ground zero. So, he tries another way.

“You'll be doing it, though. It's your next mission.” The playful tone from Legend's voice vanishes, a more professional, assertive one replaces it, “It's nothing you can't do. Think of the gals who'll cream their panties when they hear your voice singing their favourite hit.”

Soldier Boy’s lips flip pensively, “Tempting. But still no.”

“Can arrange a collab with whoever female singer you want.” Legend tries again.

“Can ya pair me up with Monroe?” Soldier Boy gives his manager a shit-eating smile.

“For fuck's sake, Soldier Boy,” Legend says with a frown. The little shit, greatest superhero or whatever else, can honestly be a huge pain in his ass. “Be serious.”

“Oh, I'm dead serious,” Soldier Boy grumbles, “Can you do it or not?”

“She died thirty years ago for Christ's sake, of course I can't pair you up with her.”

“Then the answer's still no. I'd rather spend time rubbing one out at Pauline from Donkey Kong than contributing to entertaining a pansy dogshit audience.”

Fuck you. Legend really wants to spit it out loud but he carefully curbs himself. He pinches the bridge of his nose, “Can't help but notice that making my work harder everyday is your new favourite sport, isn't it?”

“C'mon, don't be such a wuss,” Soldier Boy drawls, “Where would be the fun of an easy job? I'm doin' ya a favour; making you truly earn each penny you get paid. It's something we used to call 'hard work' back in my days.”

“Hard work can kiss my ass in that case,” Legend says humorously, shaking his head. Soldier Boy shares an amused chuckle with him.

“Seriously though—”

“Noir's cut out for that shit, not me. He'll be thrilled to do it.” Soldier Boy smirks wickedly as he interrupts him. The kid may not be funny. Fuck, he ain't, and that's precisely why he didn't get Axel Foley at Beverly Hills Cop — but it'd be hilarious to watch him fail in singing. Even if he didn't, nobody can beat Soldier Boy's performing talents.

Before Legend can answer he proceeds, “And tell him while you're at it that he has me to thank for giving him a window like that. He may as well make it fucking count. Make sure he does.” Legend shakes his head.

Soldier Boy and Legend continue to discuss business for another half an hour. Among the offers though; Nintendo wants to make a video game about Soldier Boy.

“For fuck's sake, do those Nips have any dignity?” Soldier Boy jeers.

“Well, it's all about business nowadays.” Legend says. “Arcade games have a large foot in the market, y'know. And, we're hiring many Japanese developers into our new entertainment department. So, I friendly remind you to tune down your slurs.”

Soldier Boy scoffs again. “I’ll see about that��”

When the talk is done, Soldier Boy dismisses the Director of Superhero Management of Vought.

“See ya at the wedding.” Legend says before he steps out of Soldier Boy's quarters.

“Hope fucking not.” The supe murmurs, taking the last gulp of his drink.

This evening Soldier Boy is to attend Dr. Jonah Vogelbaum's daughter's wedding as the guest of honour. The bride is a huge fan of his; her father has personally invited him to the wedding. What more honour can one get than having the greatest superhero ever lived as a guest at their wedding?

Soldier Boy heads to his dressing room to choose a formal outfit for the occasion. He's not going to wear his supe gear even though Vogelbaum made it very clear that he should. But Soldier Boy takes no shit from a nobody, and who the fuck Vogelbaum thinks he is to tell him what to do? Plus, that attire is for business, and him going to that wedding is a mere pursuit for pleasure. He isn't on some mission tonight but to find a good fuck for himself. Women, nonetheless, would throw themselves at his feet regardless of what he puts on. However, fancy tailored suits and bowties seem to pull women more effectively into his charm. When he clads in his supe suit, he's more intimidating; a god walking among men. Women would sigh at his sight and eye-fuck him, but beneath the layers of infatuation, he can perceive the lick of fear in their eyes. Like he's an invincible idol that cannot be touched by lesser hands. Not that he doesn't fucking relish in having such an impact, but he still prefers to pluck a catch in such occasions. Some nice chick who's eager to warm his bed in fearless vigour, some girl who can actually handle his raw strength and superhuman stamina. Especially when Countess won't be up his ass sulking like the bitch she is whenever he pays another woman his attention.

His relationship with Countess is nothing but for show. Pure business. Vought thought they looked good together and had an appealing chemistry in the public eye. Power couple and that shit. But in fact, Soldier Boy has no ounce of romantic feelings for her. Sure, they fuck around every now and then, but nothing more to add to it.

When he's fully dressed and spruced up he looks at himself in the full-length mirror and nods in approval. He'll definitely make the ladies' panties drop tonight.

Soldier Boy arranges a few lines of coke for himself on the coffee table. It'll help him  handle all of the cock-sucking kiss asses he's going to interact with tonight.

God fucking damn.

It takes the mightiest of his steel aplomb not to roll his eyes or hiss a curse. The moment he arrives at the wedding in the swanky hotel, he has everyone's attention all to himself. Guests swarming around him with hearts in their eyes, already forgetting about the wedding. Happy shrieks emit from the gals, and full admiration in the eyes of pals.

Ben puts on an expertly-feigned and charming smirk as he nods his head and shakes hands.

“Oh my Gosh, it's really him!”

A pretty woman in a dashing white dress wobbles down in his direction. The fucking bride. Soldier Boy's grin couldn't get any wider. The girl practically left her fucking husband standing with his groomsmen and came marching to him. Something huge and satisfying sprouts in the depths of his chest when he sees the young man briefly stink-eye in his way.

“If it ain't the queen of the show,” He drawls with a stentorian voice and a conceited raise of his brow. The bride holds a breath, her companion bimbos of bridesmaids sighing dreamily, “Well, congrats on tying the knot, darlin',” Large hand taking the bride's gloved one as he leans down to press a light kiss on her knuckles, and the girls squeal.

“Thank you, sir,” The corner of Soldier Boy's lips curls up into a half grin as he hears the groom's curbed voice, “A huge pleasure for us having the greatest man alive honouring our wedding,”

The man extends his hand out for a shake and Soldier Boy doesn't disappoint. “What can I say, Sonia is one of my best girls,” He sends a playful wink to the bride, and her groom's face rises in colour. However, she giggles timidly with blushing cheeks, and covers her mouth slightly.

“Thank you again, sir, for coming,” Sonia chirps, “Means a lot to us… to me, right, darling?”

Her new husband answers with tight lips, “Yeah, of course, please enjoy your time here, sir.”

Sure hell I'll do.

After signing some autographs, which mostly came from the bridesmaids on this special occasion, Soldier Boy lets out an elongated sigh before plucking a flûte of champagne from a server wandering around with a full tray of pleasantries. With the first sip invading his strong taste buds, he regrets it instantly. That shit is extra fruity with enhanced floral notes, it made his face controt in disgust.

“You're late,” The Doc's voice comes curt when he appears next to him, eyeing him disapprovingly. His unpleasing presence made the twitch of his face worse. The little shit. He should be kissing his ass and thanking him for wasting his time on this crap. Soldier Boy should hand it to him, though, he's got some balls. He scoffs. Ever since Vogelbaum gained Stan Edgar's infinite corroboration and support, he's become insufferable. And perhaps sometimes looming dangerously close to make Soldier Boy's hackles rise.

Ben grins indifferently at him, “Had a tight schedule,” Be glad I'm here you ungrateful old fuck.

Vogelbaum stretches his lips and nods, “You have my thanks anywho,” He grumbles, “Though I strictly told you to honour us with your presence in your suit.”

“Yeah, you did,” Soldier Boy replies with a shit-eating grin, “But wasn't in me to steal the light away from your breathtaking helluva daughter,” He patted the doctor's shoulder, “Cheer the hell up, Doc, it's your daughter's wedding and you have the greatest man ever lived as your guest!”

Ben can't endure another second of this man's company. He hands him the flûte and threads his way to the bar to order a drink. A real fucking drink. He sights a vacant stool next to a pretty woman who seems to be without company. He grins to himself when he catches a better angle of her. She is a beauty. Maybe she's the lucky one tonight. He smoothes his suit jacket and adjusts his bowtie before sliding nimbly on the stool.

He orders a strong liquor from the bartender and the beauty next to him cooes, “Make it two, please.”

He turns his head to her with an arched eyebrow, because fuck does he appreciate a woman who's not a lightweight, “Tough night?”

Her painted mouth curls up into an inveigling smile, “Should I ask you the same question?”

Brave. Tempting. He loves brave. Whereas most women are intimidated by him, this one here though, she looks unfazed. He likes it. He wonders what she's gonna sound when he's balls deep inside of her. Timid, brave, strong, weak, they all sound the same in his bed when he touches the magic button. One thing he was certain of was she'd sound pretty in her throes of pleasure.

He gives her figure a quick scan; she isn't one of bridesmaids that's for sure. She's wearing a forest green dress. Her skin is glowing beneath the velvet, and a pleasant fragrance emitting from her body. Her neck and ears are adorned with gold and rubies. She looks hazily beautiful.

“Groom's or bride's?” He asks when their drinks are served.

She flashes him a grin with those tempting lips, “Why wouldn't you hazard a guess like when you do on a minefield?” She winks, taking a gulp of her drink.

Interesting, he raises an amused brow. At least she ain't playing easy. He has to give her that; she's making his night way more entertaining. He likes to play prey and predator let alone when she's practically inviting him to do so.

A playful grin graces his lips, replying, “Can't risk bursting a pretty lady like you tho, can I?”

She lets out a small laugh, “God forbid, what kinda superhero would you be then?” His eyebrows knit together slightly as he watches her grabbing her purse and preparing herself to leave.

“It was nice running into you, sir,” She remarks, “But you'll have to excuse me…”

“Sure, sweet cheeks…”

She nods as she moves away with such grace and swiftness. Ben doesn't realise he was holding his breath until it clicks within him. Fuck, he forgot to ask her her name. But nothing to worry about, he catches her entering the powder room. In moments, he'll go after her and take this rather interesting conversation somewhere else.

He waits though. For more than fifteen minutes. Vogelbaum makes his way on the stage to raise a toast to his daughter and her groom, and he doesn't forget to give Ben a word of gratitude for being here. People cheer and applaud when the lights shine upon him, and he smiles and nods at them. On another occasion, he'd enjoy this to the fullest. His mind, however, is occupied by finding a pretty seductress. Can it be that she left? No, he doesn't think so. Fuck, if only he could distinguish her voice out of the many nattering and yapping voices despite his superhuman hearing. He considers asking Vogelbaum about her later. Maybe the man would be useful to him for once. But he will not have to, though.

The lights of the hall ebb away, save for the ones above the music stage.

A wide grin slips into his lips when he sees her behind the microphone, and their eyes lock for a moment. She gives him a teasing wink.

The little minx, he thinks.

Tender music emanates from the piano and she starts to sing with a silky voice.

The evening breeze caressed the trees tenderly

Damn, he likes that song. And her voice couldn't be more on brand for it!

The trembling trees embraced the breeze tenderly

He feels the said breeze of her cooes and it makes him shiver.

Then you and I came wandering by

And lost in a sigh were we

Ben conjures a vivid image of her sighs of pleasure.

The shore was kissed by sea and mist tenderly

She's the shore, and his mouth is the sea.

I can’t forget how two hearts met breathlessly

Your arms opened wide

And closed me inside

You took my lips

You took my love

So tenderly

A loud applause erupted from the guests when she finished, and Ben found himself amongst the riveted clappers.

God fucking damn.

Ben knows a lot of singers, hell, he works with them sometimes. But never has he ever heard such a mellifluous voice like this one! How come he hasn't known of her before? A new face, he guesses. He wonders if Legend knows her.

Ben stops clapping as his conversation with Legend that afternoon flashes through his mind. That's it.

Shortly after the wedding, Ben heads back to his quarters in Vought's tower, impatiently dialling Legend's number.

“That sappy song you wanted me to do—” He says right away.

“Well, good evening to you too,” Legend drawls from the other end, “As happy as I am to hear that, Ben, but I'm kinda fucking tired to talk business right now. Despite my marvellous traits, I'm still a human.”

“I'll do it.”

Soldier Boy could hear Legend switching the handset of the telephone to the other hand. And before the latter says anything he proceeds.

“Only on one condition...”

🦅 Next Chapter: A New Window.

🦅 Somewhere In Your Heart Masterlist.

🦅 Soldier Boy Masterlist.

Taglist: @thebiggerbear, @zepskies, @deanbrainrotwritings, @deansbbyx, @deans-spinster-witch

@venus-haze, @kaleldobrev, @k-slla, @ketchupjasmin...

[ifhybutilovechu]

Day 25 : humiliation + Day 26: public

ft . Onyankopon

You and Onyankopon were getting ready to go to a party , he watches through the mirror as you do you makeup. You spot him ad raise a brow but he just shakes his head .

As you get finished with you makeup you put your dress asking him to zip up the back , while he does so he peeps you outfit the shortness rubbing him the wrong way "This a little short ma" he whispers in you ear and you scoff playfully thinking he's joking "Boy bye" you say and walk off . Little did you know he was dead serious .

strike 1

he counts in his head as you put on your jewelry "Ok baby I'm done , you ready?" you ask and he nods. On the car ride there you take multiple pictures and tiktoks the short v neck leaving little to the imagination .

When you guys make it there you immediately give him a kiss before rushing off to find the birthday girl he was shocked you didn't even say bye 'strike 2' , your best friend Sasha . "Heyy bitch! you yell while running to give her a hug she so gladly returns ."You finally made it!!" she exclaims before handing you a shot you gracefully take . Y'all immediately make it to the dance floor and she caresses your waist and you grind on her playfully .

You turn around and start throwing it back on her and she catches it all , smacking at your ass while your short dress starts coming up . People start to crowd around cheering and recording , all types of hands coming to get a grab .

Onyankopon and his friend Connie get some drinks as they sit and reconnect . "How u been" Connie asks and Ony sighs "I feel like my girl been trying me lately" he says and Connie burst out laughing "I'm so happy it ain't just been me , Sasha been pushing all my buttons ." As they talk they hear the party getting louder and come to check it out . They walk to the middle of the circle and Onyankopon can feel his blood pressure getting high . You and Sasha shaking ass for the whole too see .

"Ah fuck nah" he hears Connie whispers before he reaches by his waist band and starts shooting into the air . Everybody scatters and before you and Sasha could run off to they grab y'all .

As you ride home you text Sasha trying not to make eye contact with Ony .

You : Girl we so fuckedd

Sasha : yes I'm almost home , shivering in my boots

You : Deadass , shit gotta go

Sahsa : I'm praying 4 u

"Put that phone down" Onyankopon tries to say as calmly as he could and you quickly turn it off. "So?" he asks and you don't answer turning away and you can see him nod his head in the corner of your eye "Aight"

He parks the car and your heart drops notices it's a parking lot. "Get to the back" he says coldly and you immediately crawl back and he presses a firm smack to your as causing a squeak . He turns you around pressing your face into the mattress and pulls up your dress and notices you have no panties on. He reaches his hand back before landing a harsh slap on your ass . You groan and leap forward but he just pull you back , this continues until you ass is red and sore .

"Fuck!" you yelp a tear falling from your eye . He swipes his thumb over your cunt feeling your wetness . "You like that , everyone looking at what's mine? he asks and you shake your head and he smack your ass . "I cant hear you" he says as you whimper "no.."

He lines his thick cock up with your entrance before ramming in. You moan and unconsciously move away for his brutal thrust , he grips your hips and locks you in place "Fuckk , baby I'm sorryy" you beg as your drool pools onto the leather seats . "You too late baby" he says before smacking your eyes "Now throw that shit back on me" you try your best but as you watch someone walk by your trust in the tinted windows didn't seem so high anymore , you smack your head at his stomach trying to push him out. Tapping on his stomach to signal him

"Don't focus on them look at me" he whispers into your ear , gripping on your neck. You throw you ass in circles on his cock and he groans "Fuck baby just like that... you gon catch this nut" he asks "Yes pa..ooh shit!" you say clenching around him as you get butterflies in your stomach . Your hands smacks at the fogged window and tears flood out your eyes , he tightens his grip on your hips to pound into you become you cum all over him . He watches the white ring appear around his cock and groans . thrusting again before cumming deep inside. He looks at you messy makeup and fuck up hair , hearing the squelch from the cum dripping out you hole.

"Maybe you won't act up when you can't go out with a baby on your hip?"

[dvchvnde]

excerpt; best friend's dad | John Price x Reader infidelity. age gap.

He breaks your heart in Greece. Cuts a jagged line down your middle. Spills your wet, sticky blood over the Naxian marble outside of the Temple of Apollo with just a handful of words.

(fitting, you find: you've always considered your aimless pursuit to his heart some bastardised delusion akin to Icarus chasing the immovable sun—)

And you suppose it's kind. Or as gentle as a man like him could ever let himself be. Still gruff, surly. But you've always loved the sound of his voice, haven't you? That sarky growl reminding you of classic muscle cars, American-made; the low, gritty purr of an old Mustang. Enough to make you shiver, even as he's shaping it around these awful, cutting words. It makes you heart flutter, enraptured as he speaks like he's ripping a bandaid off.

Except that now that wound is being filled with salt. Acid. Cauterising itself from the friction burn when the gauze is wrenched off your skin. A permanent scar right in your sternum. A gaping hole spilling all the ugliness out. You wonder if he cares that it's being slashed across his shoes—no sandals, he griped when you teased him in the airport; I hate the feelin' of sand between my toes—that this madness inside of you is finding a home on the hot pavement, rotting under the summer's sun.

"m'thinkin' about marryin' her."

The her in question is ten years older than him. Pettily, you wonder if this is to compensate for the fact that he's nearly two decades older than you. An obscene age gap, you know. But—

It's Price.

Your best friend's dad. The man you've been in love with since you were sixteen. Falling all over yourself after a dumb boy broke your heart, and he offered to drive you home, silent the whole way there before he stopped, a block away from your house, and told you that boys weren't worth your time. Boys. Boys—

Not men.

Foolishly, you let yourself hope. Let yourself become the very thing they talk about in TikTok videos lambasting age gaps and silly little girls who let older men run them into the ground. Why would a man his age have any reason to be interested in a girl yours? Sickening. Disgusting. You're being lead stray, groomed. But you clung to it still, even as you thumbed through the comments on those videos and found pieces of yourself lying among the rubble.

You've always known what they say about girls like that. And you were just delusional enough to believe that you were different somehow.

And now—

"Gettin' older," he grouses out, and you wonder if she finds the ornery lilt to his cadence as comforting as you do. Or if it rubs her all the wrong ways. "Might be time to settle down."

Shamefully, you wish he'd say, but maybe you can convince me otherwise, climb into my lap, and eat this decision from between my teeth until all I see when I open my eyes is you.

But that's not the John Price you know. Mr Price. Single dad. Widower. Untouchable.

Mr Price who sees you for what you are—smarter than them, he'd said when you broke down in his Bronco after a softball game where everyone, your best friend included, went to an afterparty that no one invited you to.

Quiet, thoughtful, even when you spent the evening afterwards (the fight hashed out between your best friend and you; i'm so sorry and me too) thumbing through old vinyl records he kept in his basement, listening to the classics that kids your age just didn't understand, so why the fuck do you?

Weekends spent bonding over golden cinema (movies just ain't what they used to be; there's no romance anymore, it's all so—vapid; you don't talk like a kid; i've never considered myself one, do you? he didn't answer. you didn't expect him to). Listening to music older than your dad. Niche jokes and texts that read like I saw this and thought of you.

Your fault, of course, for thinking you could trick him into loving you if you played your feelings through Johnny Cash, Vashti Bunyan, Fleetwood Mac, and Smokey Robinson. An impossibility you know now.

Mr Price who knows you. Who sees through the thin skin you wear and into the heart, the core of you. Who must have known since you called him in the pouring rain to pick you up when you got too drunk to drive home. A house party in the suburbs. Waterlogged flats he told you to toss.

Said nothing at all when you apologised with your head pressed against the foggy glass. You never told him that your sorry, Mr Price was for kissing a boy and wishing it was him.

But he must have known.

open book. pages spilling out. silly little girl with your heart cupped in your palm—

So he knows. Has known. Hindsight says this is him letting you down gently before you get any ideas about forever with your diploma tucked into your chest like a shield. A trip to Greece with your best friend and her dad to celebrate the rest of your life looming over you like a thundercloud. Your eye slanting sideways, glancing yearningly back at him.

sorry, but no. look the other way—

And you think fine, fine, whatever, so long as this doesn't hurt anymore—but what comes out is, "oh."

What follows is this:

He says he's thinking about marrying her with his hands tucked tight under his arms. He tells you he wants to settle down with his chin tucked against his chest, four lines rucked across the pinch of his brow. An emphasis, perhaps, on just how serious he is.

You taste salt in your throat. Sand between your toes. The sun blisters against the thin straps of this pretty blue dress that match the melting sapphire of his burning gaze. It's heatsickness, maybe. Or just all the years of want building and building, festering and growing, until it can't climb any higher—forever reaching for god that won't spare you a glance—and—

falling down around you. wings of beeswax and bird feathers.

Solemn, he says, "it's what I should do."

(i saw this and thought of you—)

Your fingers knot into the soft cotton of his dress shirt, pulling the fabric taut between your knuckles until it peels back from the seams, curling between buttons.

You've had too much to drink. Whiskey sour. Scotch neat. Somewhere along the walk to the temple, you snatched a puff of his cigar, the nicotine blooming between your teeth. Head full of cotton too thick for you to think. To retreat.

In the morning, when he refuses to look at you, you'll blame it on the drinks. On the sun. On being young and dumb and untouchable under the Greecian sky.

Daddy issues, you can shrug. You have the diagnoses from every single TikTok psychologist embedded between your teeth. See, mine never loved me and now I'm taking it out on you—

But right now, you kiss him.

Or maybe—

Maybe he kisses you.

It's a mess in your head. Everything turned upside down, all askew because when your lips touch his, he shudders. His chest rumbles under your fingers, expanding with the sudden inhale as he breathes you in. Deep. Takes you into his lungs—all salt-slick, and sunburnt—and groans low in his throat, all want. All heat.

He should push you away. He's your best friend's father. Two decades older than you. Dating another woman who's so far removed from the person you are that she might as well be a different species. Mature. Stoic. Poised. Graceful.

The perfect antithesis to you.

Everything about this must be ringing shrill in his ears: abort, abort, do not engage. He should push you off.

And he does.

After a moment of your greedy, unpractised kisses pepper along the bristles hanging low over his lips, he makes another sound. Angry. Whitehot. His hands slip free from the damp prison of his armpits and latch tight onto you. Thick, hirsute fingers curling over your upper arms, and pushing, shoving—

Your back hits the marble pillar. The air in your lungs punched out.

But when you try to siphon more balmy air into them again, you find an obstacle in your way.

His mouth.

Searing, blistering. Slanting hungrily across yours, devouring. Intense, dizzying. Your head cracks against the wall when he shoves his thigh between the silken softness of your inner thighs, blanketed by the dress that made him swallow when he first saw you in it, eyes darkening like a storm.

(bit short, ain't it? he'd groused, and your friend slipped her hand into yours with a huff. stop being such a dad, dad—)

It slots there now like it's owed the right. Thick thigh spreading yours apart on a gasp, a groan. Corded muscle pressed taut to the seam of you that burns hot. Melted wax. Dripping against his leg. He must feel the way he liquifies you, turns you into putty. It drags a sound his chest. The misfire of an engine.

"Fuck," he breathes, all teeth. Salt. He should be saying, no, stop. go back to your hotel room, and we'll pretend this never happened, silly girl. But he pulls you closer instead, his hand looping around to cradle the back of your tender head in the cup of his palm. A small comfort as he delves his tongue between your teeth. "Makin' me lose my goddamn mind—"

The words are growled against your mouth. You taste the tobacco-smoked fury between his teeth when they sink into your lower lip. Angry, maybe, that you're making him do this. That you had to be who you are, and despite that, he kisses you like you're not.

"Price," you whine, arching into his chest when he pulls at your bottom lip still caught between his teeth. Skin tender, bruised. He ruts into you at the sound, nearly purring. You feel it then. The hard press of his thickening cock against you. Mindlessly gyrating against your hip. The turgid length proof of his desire. His want for you. All you. "Please—"

He folds himself over you. Tucks you into the bracket of his chest, his arms. His fingers are iron bars on your skin, holding you tight to him. Unwilling to let go. His hand on your crown; his fingers gripping your thigh, hiking it up his waist. It's good. Better than all of your meagre fantasies combined. You've wanted this since you knew what want was. When he wandered into the kitchen the morning after a sleepover with a towel slung loose around his hips, his hand scrubbing the damness from the wet tangle of his hair, spilling them down his neck where they disappeared into the thick bed of hair on his chest, his belly.

He paused in the doorway when he saw you sitting at the island, eyes wide and drilling holes into his chest.

"Shit," he'd cussed, gruff and mean with sleep. "Didn't think—"

But you did. Over and over again. With your face pressed against your pillow, fingers shoved into the sticky wetness leaking out of your cunt. Thinking of him. Wrong. Wrong. Terrible—

Dad bod, your friend said with a cluck of her tongue that afternoon. And you feel it under your fists as he heaves. As he eats you alive, whole. Because kissing John Price, Mr Price, is a whirlwind. A maelstrom.

He devours. He conquers. He owns.

He licks into your mouth, petting over your tongue, your teeth, until you can't remember anything else except the tobacco and whiskey tang of him. Heady. An elixir you want to sip from for the rest of your life. Damn him—

He tells you he's thinking about marrying someone else. Then whispers, ash-soft, against your chin that he can't get enough of you.

Grunts, "you need to go," as he sinks his teeth down, hard, into the throbbing skin of your pulse. Laying claim as he slowly comes to.

The coarse hair of his beard rubs your flesh raw when he buries his face into your neck. You can feel the thunder of his heart against the knob of your wrist. The heat of his skin burning through you.

"Fuck," he rumbles again, and you know this time it's for good. Ironclad. But the remorse is paperthin. "Shouldn't have done that, should have—"

"I want you," you whisper through bruised, kiss-bitten lips. "I want you so bad. I loved you since I was—"

"Don't."

The sweat beading along his hairline smears across the naked arch of your shoulder and neck when he moves; a shallow shake of his head. Muted and small. Heavy with reluctance.

The man who meets you when he pulls back is frowning with wet, red-stained lips. His eyes are hardened sapphire reinforced with unbreakable obsidian. There's no inch to move. No cracks to squeeze through.

"This—" he swallows. You hope he tastes you still. Whiskey sour. Scotch neat. The drag of his cigar, the one he coached you through, scoffing when you choked, when you cough. You hope he runs his tongue over his teeth and tastes nothing but you. "This shouldn't have happened."

You don't say anything. Can't. The words are staining his lips.

You nod, slow. Cautious. He tells you he's marrying someone else. Thinking about it. Says this shouldn't have happened—

But he holds you like he can't bring himself to let go. Fingers clutching, clenching tight around you. Possessive. Greedy, even he as he slowly unspools from around you. As he pulls away, scouring his hand down his face with a deep, ragged inhale. Rough, worn fingers digging into his jaw until the knuckles under a dense cropping of umber hair turn white, nails pinking under the strain.

"This isn't—"

You nod again. Soft and slow, but you let your tongue flicker out, chasing the smoke drying on your swollen lips. It stings. The burn makes you think of him. Of his hot, heavy hands on your skin.

His eyes drop down to follow the slip of red that teases out between your teeth, blackening as they trace the new wetness left behind. You can feel him twitch against your thigh.

Your name is a broken snarl trapped in the thick of his throat. You've never heard it like that. Never. It does something. Lights you up from the inside out. Supernova in his arms. Icarus burning, crashing down to earth—

Catch me, Apollo—

He pulls away instead. Detaches from you with a heavy groan, as if the distance that now sits between you hurts him just as much.

The silence is broken by the sound of the crowd just beyond the pillar. You can see the moment it settles over him in the flattening of his eyes, the erasure of all affection that bloomed bright in blue. The terse set to his shoulders. The distance, the space, that grows and grows and grows—

He clears his throat. Mr Price once more. Untouchable. Off-limits.

"You should go," he says, and there's not an ounce of give in the rough flatline of his voice. Fixed. Firm. "You should go back to your hotel room. Come on. I'll call you a taxi."

"And you?"

He sucks in a breath through his nose, nostrils flaring. "Don't worry about me. Just—go back to the hotel room. We can—we'll talk in the morning."

"Where'd you?" She asks when you crawl into bed, the starchy sheets rubbing against your sunbitten skin.

There is a deluge of things you want to say. Things like—

I'm sorry. I love him. I—

can't let go.

"I think I just got my heart broken," you say instead, and wonder when the tears are supposed to come. At the wedding, maybe. But right now, you just feel numb. Empty.

The bed creaks when she rolls over, facing you in the dark. "Really? Didn't know you were, you know, foolin' around with anyone."

"I wasn't. It's—" your dad. But you can't say that, can you?

There's something painfully nostalgic about loving a man you're not supposed to want. A man who cannot, should not, want you back. An unrequited love in a foreign land. Unconsummated in the summer's heart. Sticky, bittersweet heartbreak.

Or, that's what it's supposed to be.

They are not John Price, though. Your best friend's dad. And they didn't kiss you back—

But he did.

And you think it's the worst thing he could have ever done.

[ronearoundblindly]

No pressure at all! But I had an idea for your ‘how would the Cevans characters react’ I’ve loved every installment of this so far 🥰🖤🥰

How would they react if reader was having an off day and for some reason couldn’t get off so she faked having an orgasm in bed.

Is this because of @cevansbrat0007's Ari fic? (which is great, go read that, but I feel like I've seen a surge in this trope since) Because, see, this is very interesting to me, and I really hope you've read other stuff of mine before, nonnie. I don't write everybody as a perfect gentleman...

Warnings for various levels of spice since we are, in fact, talking about orgasms, duh! MINORS DNI. See my Light Masterlist for all-age friendly fics!

James Mace

Ok, I'm not sure it would get so far as for you to actually fake it. Mace is a slow, steady, deep kind of lover. He'd realize you aren't getting anywhere or building up to it pretty quickly, all things considered, and he would make you talk to him while he continues foreplay/touching you. Pretty sure he just wants to be attached to you in some way while you have time together...

Curtis Everett

Curtis gets very intense when he senses you're holding something back, like predatorily intense. Uses his body to cage you in, constant eye contact, probably even pinching/tickling you until you confess.

He doubles down. You fake one; Curtis forces two out of you in return.

Jimmy Dobyne

Shockingly, Jimmy would be super upset if you faked an orgasm with him. (There is one caveat to this: IF HE FINDS OUT.) Jimmy is a straight-forward guy who doesn't enjoy dating games. You aren't into sex right now? Fucking say something. He's horrified by the idea you would just lay there and take it or whatever because what the fuck???

He's got simple rules. If you don't like something, tell him because he can handle himself for one night/a little while or he'll happily do something different. If you never want something he does, then you two shouldn't be together. That's it.

Sex is an important aspect of your relationship, but it ain't the whole thing. Tell him to piss off, or ask for a quiet night of holding each other. Do not lie, cheat, or steal. You lied about being satisfied, you cheated him out of the chance to actually give you what you needed, and you stole his confidence that he recognizes your body's signals. Yes, Jimmy sorta makes it about him, but that's mostly because he feels helpless and a little dirty.

Johnny Storm

Existential CRISIS.

Have you ever faked it with him before? Have other women faked it with him?? Is this a common thing??? Hot shot goes into full-meltdown mode, and unsurprisingly, you end up kinda lost in the narrative there, soothing him instead of yourself.

Oddly enough, you two do end up closer from the experience though because Johnny realizes that he very much values trust and honesty, whereas before he would have thought plain ol' fun the most important thing...

Jake Jensen

Jakey, my beloved, clueless noob... He doesn't really know what to do. He asks a lot of questions. What's wrong? What can he do? What do you want in this moment? Should he have done it differently? Do you need more? Something else? Was it him?

For a dozen times after, he'll ask if that one was real or fake. He's touchy about it, but 90% of his concern is just that you are actually happy. He puts in quite a bit of extra effort for a while after, too.

Lloyd Hansen

I am a broken record when it comes to Lloyd: he does not care. At best, he'd be torturing you to come for his own pleasure. At worst, well, he's there to get off. You don't need to.

If by some magical scenario Lloyd does give a fuck about you or your feelings, I think he'd expect you to take what you needed from him to climax. Otherwise, it's not really his problem.

Ari Levinson

Depends on his own mood for sure. When Ari is stressed or tired, he tends to turn inward and focus on his own feelings, not purposefully ignoring you but still. It reads like he didn't/doesn't notice and just continues on with sleep/the normal routine. If he's got the emotional, energy bandwidth to talk it out with you, he absolutely will. Don't take any offense. Sometimes he's muddling through like you.

Ransom Drysdale

Has no idea. Probably doesn't want to have an idea. Unless it becomes a regular problem, he's just gonna let it slide. He won't bring it up if you don't.

Steve Rogers

On the surface, Steve looks concerned and listens to your reasons for faking, but honestly, on the inside, he hates the idea that you felt the need to. Steve will easily forego sex in favor of literally anything you want to do, so to let it get all the way to love-making and apparently suffering through till he's finished? It makes him a bit sick. He'll get more more restrained and cautious in future, all for want of you never faking again.

Bucky Barnes

Feels like a huge failure as a partner. Spends a good portion of the conversation having you promise to communicate with him better from now on. This is from a man who has so many things going on in his mind that Bucky is often derailed from pleasure/enjoyment during sex. He's just very triggered by the darndest things, and you've been so understanding. Why can't he be that for you, too?

Thank you for asking!

A/N: I know these are a bit short. Let me know if there's one or more you'd like expanded on, but thank you for reading!

[Main Masterlist; 'Who Would...' Asks; Ko-Fi]

[lowkeycasanova]

you ain't my boyfriend, i ain't your girlfriend

Based on the song "Boyfriend" by Ariana Grande & Social House

masterlist

——————————————————————————

“Do you think anyone in the friend group is dating?” Lydia inquired while you threw on an oversized shirt over your swimsuit.

You raised a brow. “I mean, Jett and Samantha.”

“I already know about them.”

"Well...no? Why?" you asked.

"I don't know why, but I feel like Vinnie and Julia have something going on."

That got your attention.

"Huh?"

"I mean, I could be wrong. I just see them together a lot it seems, so I wondered." She shrugged.

"Well-" you started. "They haven't even known each other that long."

"True. Just a thought."

You both went from your spot in the guest room across the hallway to Vinnie's room to call him downstairs.

Upon arriving, you hear laughing from two people. You didn't think anything of it until you saw Vinnie and Julia side by side on the bed, him showing her a something on his phone and she's the main one laughing.

"Hey!" Lydia greeted. "We were just trying to get everyone downstairs. Jett is firing up the grill as we speak."

"Cool, I'm sure my sister is looking for me anyways." Julia stated and got up from the foot of the bed."

She made eye contact with you and you gave her a closed mouth smile. She walked away with a little attitude in her hips and you felt your chest twist up when you saw Vinnie's eyes follow her out the room.

Why would Lydia put that thought in your head? If you hadn't already disliked the idea of them together, you surely did now.

Vinnie followed you both downstairs. Jack had planned a get together with all the friends... just because. There was even a water slide in the backyard.

These people could be so extra, but they were fun regardless.

You mingled around, talking to friends and saying hello to any new people. Every once in a while, you'd see Julia standing next to Vinnie, recording him for whatever reason. You felt yourself getting hot and didn't even realized you eyed her up and down until after.

Anyways.

A few minutes later, you met up with Evan in the backyard by the pool, a friend you met through Vinnie, but didn't know all too well yet.

"Hey!" you greeted him and brought him into a hug. "How have you been?"

"I've been good." he smiled.

"You just had a birthday right?"

"Yeah!" he smiled wider like he was happy you remembered.

"Well happy belated." you said and gave him another hug. "Sorry I couldn't be there."

"Thanks. It's cool though." he hugged you back.

You two began to catch up on things that recently happened in your lives since the last time you saw each other. Which was a while ago. He's so nice and easy to talk to. You wonder why you never really talked that much to each other before.

What you didn't know, was that Vinnie was observing the entire interaction.

He was sitting on top of the table a few feet away, talking to Jordan when seeing you with Evan started to distract him. He was looking past Jordan and subtly leaning forward to get a better look, nearly missing every other word he was saying but trying not to seem obvious.

(Refer to the picture I used)

And if looks could kill, Evan would be done for.

****

You were in the kitchen sipping on your drink when Vinnie approached you, and leaned against the counter with his arms causally across his chest.

“Hey.”

You gave him a nod back.

"What are you doing over here by yourself?"

"Got me a drink." you gestured to your glass. Sometimes you got so nervous around him that you couldn't even look him in the eye.

Vinnie glances over at the people in his line of sight and he gets a glimpse of Evan walking across the room.

"There go your boyfriend." he uttered, trying to hide that proud smirk on his face knowing he probably hit a nerve.

"Huh?" you quickly turned in his direction.

He dipped his head down by your ear and you swore you could feel his lips graze it. "Evan." he simply stated as if he wasn't annoyed by the idea.

You hated how cheeky he was being. You heard him perfectly fine.

"We're not dating." you revealed in defense.

"Well it's obvious that he wants to hit. It's embarrassing actually."

You rolled your eyes. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

Then you remembered a someone who'd been by Vinnie's side since she got here.

"Why are you talking about me? What about you and Julia?"

Now it was his turn to get defensive.

"Me and Julia?? Who told you that?"

"A little birdie told me." you shrugged.

"We don't have anything going on. I mean, she's cool and all but I don't know her like that. And she's more of Payton's friend than mine."

"Hmm," you said in response as if you weren't convinced.

Vinnie scoffed. "Whatever. It's not like you and I are dating anyway."

"Yeah, so lets just drop it." you agreed.

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Good."

"Good."

He was about to say something else but your stubborn ass wasn't about to let him have the last word.

You finished your drink in one swing before stating, "excuse me" as you put the glass to his chest and he grabbed in on instinct to not let it fall as you let go of it before making your way to the backyard again.

You both smirked behind each other's backs as the bickering made you like each other even more.

[repulsive-manwhore]

THE 10 BEST VIOLENT JAMES DEEN PORN SCENES (in my opinion)

when it comes to male porn actors, there's none i look up to or attempt to mimic more in the bedroom than James Deen. he is simply porn's "golden boy." the way he talks, acts, carries himself, and (of course) fucks in every rough scene he stars in is what i aspire to be. picking only 10 of his craziest documented sexual endeavors was difficult, but i think i've got a good list here. so without further ado, here it is, the 10 best JD scenes, in my humble opinion. go on, google is free, have some fun while you read. ❤️

Whore Wife (Cherry Torn, Kink™) - classic gangbang scene which is conveniently also where my header image is from.

Extreme Anal Queen (Adriana Chechik, ANALIZED.COM™) - rough bathroom anal scene. doggy over the sink is my favorite part. there's also a toilet involved. nasty stuff.

Pornoromance (Lia Lor, James Deen Productions™) - this scene has it all. any scene fully produced/released by the man himself is a good choice, this one is a cut above though.

Pornstar Punishment (Ashli Orion, Brazzers™) - schoolgirl scene. you'll notice there's a "fuckpig" element in most or all of these but this one especially, so much at times that some versions cut out some of the facial play/humiliation. i guess Brazzers wasn't rocking with it lol. if you can find one with the full footage, save that shit for real, cuz i ain't giving you it lmao.

Ravished By The Wrong Man (Lia Lor, Kink™) - second entry in this list with Lia Lor, this time with bondage. if that's your thing, then just like the last one, this too has it all. ropes, ball gags, i think a taser gets pulled out at some point? yeah.

BANG! Casting (Yhivi, BANG!™) - god, where do i even begin? the best chemistry on this list. Yhivi is absolutely adorable and she's having the time of her life in this scene getting used like a ragdoll. just violence, a couch and smiles. my personal fav.

Casey Calvert: Show Me Rough (ANALIZED.COM) - shifting over to the reality aspect now, from staged scenes and radical angles to camcorder vlogs and single recording positions. still hot as fuck. starts out with a great convo, then goes 0 to 100 seemingly almost out of nowhere.

James Deen's 7 Sins: WRATH (Carmen Caliente, Carmen Callaway, Dani Daniels, Delilah Davis, Janice Griffith, Jessica Ryan, Sadie Santana, Shay Ryan, Trinity St. Clair, Vyxen Steel) - i mean, i think the title and the cast list explains enough.

The Slutmother (Kelly Divine, Brazzers™) - another classic scene from the days of old. Deen really laid the hammer down with the face slapping in this one, which is funny bc it's a Godfather parody. don't know why he went so hard for something so comedic, but i love it.

"BANG! Casting" (Abella Danger, BANG!™) - struggled with this last slot but had to throw in another casting couch banger. this one is a doozy. i like the Yhivi one more because she's much more submissive/less aggressive than Abella is here but i mean jesus, this bitch gets trashed and thrashed in this one. there's a part where he chucks her into the wall and i laughed the first time i watched it. nasty, just nasty.

HOPE Y'ALL GET A KICK OUT OF THIS ONE YOU SICK FUCKS. ENJOY.

[babygirlspurgeon]

aka welcome to the minnesota wild as shania twain songs! this is a many months long passion project @alshaverpressbox and i have been pecking away at but here on the eve of a fresh season we are ready to share! 

daemon hunt - man! i feel like a woman!

i bet you’re wondering how this all started….. mr hunt mentioned this was his karaoke song and well, it spiraled into the rest of this. we thank you for your service sir 🫡

wild fans - you’re still the one, i’m holdin’ on to love (to save my life)

love is stored in wildblr ❤️

jon merrill - i ain’t no quitter

is he the best at hockey? no but he is for mullets & gays <3

jake middleton - you win my love, party for two

there's no speed limit/just go faster, faster, don't be slow/rev it up, rev it up 'til your engine blows (please watch this music video with him in mind i beg)

brock faber - rock this country, no one needs to know

i just know he also screams the minnesota mention in rock this country. also was sad to realize months too late how good of a brock for calder song it is

matt boldy - the woman in me (needs the man in you)

i'm not always strong/and sometimes i'm even wrong/but i win when i choose/and i can't stand to lose

joel eriksson ek - honey, i’m home, gonna getcha good, giddy up

most persecuted girl in the world who deserves a good foot rub and a lil snack

marcus foligno - i’m not in the mood (to say no), party for two

ain’t no need to plan it, jump right in and jam it also yes party for two is for both middsy and moose and they’re singing it to spurge. they're cool fun guys who bring the party what more is there to say?

marat khusnutdinov - ain’t no particular way 

welcome to minnesota get loved bitch

marco rossi - up!, i’m jealous 

nice young man who’s persevered with mild antics for his goalie that he’s totally normal about

zach bogosian - you lay a whole lotta love on me

beefcake..... i can feel your body tuggin' gently on my mind/stirring up a feeling i thought i'd never find

jonas brodin - love gets me every time, don't be stupid (you know i love you)

really need to hear “i gol’ darn gone and done it” come out of this man’s mouth Right Now

liam ohgren - wanna get to know you (that good)

don't wanna miss a minute/wanna be right in it/do everything you're doing/go everywhere you're going

marc-andre fleury - legends never die, when you kiss me 

feel very normal about our record setting goalie really really liking us

jesper wallstedt - thank you baby (for makin’ someday come so soon)

he's here........

filip gustavsson - what a way to wanna be!

giving "android in the group chat" giving nobody’s perfect by hannah montana

mats zuccarello - you've got a way

when your hockey soulmate shows up and your career revitalizes.....

ryan hartman - whatever you do! don’t!

hartzy is soooo normal about kirill as we all know

jared spurgeon - any man of mine, from this moment, come on over

i do indeed give my hand you with all my heart.....

declan chisholm - white claw

so when he calls/say fuck it all

freddy gaudreau - i won’t leave you lonely 

soft song..... soft man....

marcus johansson - c’est la vie

hold tight, it comes right eventually

jakub lauko - (if you’re not in it for love) i’m outta here

passing this vibe check with flying colors btw

kirill kaprizov - she’s not just a pretty face, that don’t impress me much

she's got everything it takes, and yeah she thinks you're alright but that won't keep her warm in the middle of the night.... he is That Bitch

nordy - juanita 

nordy save us, save us nordy

billy g - whose bed have your boots been under?

you never know with that bitch...

gone but never forgotten (affectionate and derogatory)

mason shaw - forever and for always

and there ain't no way/i'm letting you go now

charlie coyle and jason zucker - when

zoyle will be reuninted one day right? right????

brandon duhaime and connor dewar - in my car (I’ll be the driver), if it don’t take two

if i'm not with you/no it ain't worth goin' through/if it don't take two

matt dumba - it only hurts when i’m breathing

do i think about dumbs talking about how he and jimmy wanted to be around til the reds came back all the time? perhaps

dean evason - i ain’t going down

her smile got me through the years/dried away the tears/it filled me with hope

pat maroon - is there life after love?

answer: there is not life after love. at least not for patty "chicago" maroon

kevin fiala - nah!

yeah, that's it (that's all), we had fun (we had a ball)/it was good while it lasted, but now i'm past it

parise and suter - ka-ching

dig deeper in your pocket, come on, i know you’ve got it <- them to chuck fletcher

[mattslolita]

dangerous woman - m. sturniolo

black!fem reader x matt, alcohol, drug use, swearing, enemies to lovers, eventual smut

do not interact if you're a minor!

"all girls wanna be like that, bad girls underneath, like that."

he was her brother's best friend.

that's the only reason why she had to tolerate him, unfortunately — if it was up to her, imani would have murdered matthew sturniolo a long time ago. well okay, maybe that was too far — but seriously, he really just got on her nerves that much.

even now, she knew matt and his two brothers ( who she got along with! ) chris and nick were coming over their house so that they could all get ready for a party they were going to later.

imani was in her room playing her music, her brother jordan in his own room doing the same thing. kitty kat by megan thee stallion was playing in the background as imani sat in her vanity doing her makeup.

she had picked out a cute, black body suit which hugged her curves tightly, along with a matching pair of black boots that barely elevated her an inch taller ( of course, jordan still towered over the girl, something he'd never stop teasing her about ).

a ringing of the doorbell sounded, but imani was too busy applying her lip combo to notice. "yo mani, get the door!"

"bro, you're right there!" imani shouted back, "get it yourself!"

"you bein so difficult, just get the damn door!" jordan yells back to imani.

the girl groans and almost slaps her makeup down as she stood up from her vanity and smoothed her body suit out, beginning to walk downstairs towards the front door.

when she opened the door, she was immediately greeted with her favorite triplet, nick. she grinned widely and squealed, holding her arms out for him to hug her.

"come inside, you comin up to my room!" imani said, rushing the oldest triplet inside.

"did you forget about us, mani?" chris teases the girl, causing her to roll her eyes playfully as her eyes land on him.

"boy get yo dumb ass inside," imani said, and chris laughs and shoves imani playfully as he walks inside.

imani is then greeted with the smug smirk from the second oldest triplet — matt stands there with his arms folded across himself, shamelessly checking imani out which causes the girl to roll her eyes and cross her arms across her chest as she glares at him. he was wearing some black cargo pants and a black shirt with his signature chain dangling from his neck — imani hated to admit it, but matt was so insanely attractive.

"hurry up and get inside before i change my mind," imani mumbles under her breath, turning away from matt, who's quick to follow behind the girl.

"aw what's wrong, you not excited to see me?" matt whispers in imani's ear, creating a warmth to spread between her legs.

"boy, please," imani replies sarcastically, hurrying towards where nick was about to go up the stairs.

the girl is quick to walk up the stairs alongside her best friend, failing to notice the way matt's eyes shamelessly widened at the sight of imani's fat ass and the way it bounced with each step she took up the stairs.

she pulled nick into her room and quickly shut the door behind her, going back to sit in her vanity chair — nick flopped down on her bed and reached for her elfbar, taking a hit from it then throwing it back down. "okay, you look so good girl!"

"thank you nicky!" imani grinned at the boy in the mirror, going to finish her lip combo, "i'm so excited for the party, i need to shake this ass!"

nick laughed as come outside by city girls began playing throughout the room — the brownskin girl's eyes widened, and she stood up and began dancing her way towards nick, who started hyping her up and recording her.

"bend it over, bust it wide, i got a bitch scared to come outside," imani and nick rapped, whilst the girl began dancing, "i ain't bonnie, fuck clyde, you want a rich bitch? swallow yo pride!"

imani starts full on twerking at the point, nick hyping her up ( he even started shaking his ass since imani taught him a while ago ). both the best friends are so caught up in the song and dancing that they don't notice imani's door open slightly.

"hey guys- woah! i did not need to see that," chris said, shielding his eyes from the scene that was playing in front of him. "nick, were you throwing it back?!"

both nick and imani die of laughter, whilst chris stands there and shakes his head, just as matt pops inside the room as well. "if you're done, we're ready to go."

imani immediately rolls her eyes and throws him a glare, crossing her arms over her chest once again as she feels him staring at the small exposed cleavage on her chest.

imani goes to grab a few things ( mostly just the elfbar ), and she and nick quickly walk downstairs, jordan, matt, and and chris following behind them. when they walk outside, they see that matt's car is already parked and waiting.

imani wonders where she's gonna sit, if she's gonna have to deal with matt while she's in the passenger seat.

when they arrive at the party, alcohol and weed are the first things to enter imani's senses as she links her arm with nick's when she gets out of matt's car.

nick squeezes imani's arm in anticipation, causing the girl to giggle as they looked at each other. "let's shake ass again, since we got interrupted before!"

"you already know!" nick agrees as both he and imani quickly make they're way inside, their friends close behind them.

chris sees a friend he knows and immediately walks up to them and daps them up — jordan and matt see friends of their own, going to chill with them as well.

matt watches as imani and nick, still arm in arm, greet their own friends who are in the middle of the living room — imani's laugh was the only thing he could focus in on, as well as the way her body was already beginning to move to the song that was playing.

matt watched as her friend gave her a cup filled with alcohol, which imani downed with no problem — he shook his head as he watched her, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at her.

matt couldn't deny his attraction towards his best friend's younger sister — who wouldn't be attracted to imani? she was so beautiful, the way her brown skin glistened and how perfect her body was.

of course, her body wasn't the only thing he liked about her ( but it was definitely his favorite ). matt knew that imani would never indulge in the boy, which he couldn't blame her, either — matt got around pretty good, girls came too easily for him.

and that's what he loved about imani — the only girl who wouldn't give him an ounce of attention, a challenge. matt was never one to back down from one.

so as he watched imani as she begin dancing with her friends and his brother, matt couldn't help but have his attention solely fixated on her for the entire night.

grins knowingly😏😏

[grigori77]

Reasons to LOVE Dungeons & Dragons: Honour Among Thieves

It's brand new in cinemas, so there are still plenty who ain't seen it, so if you're among 'em best skip this and just GO SEE IT, it's SO well worth it, genuinely it's one of the best new movies I've seen so far this year. Hope you love it as much as I did!

So, yeah, there you go - SPOILER WARNING, FOLKS!!! If you don't wanna get spoiled, RUN!!!

Still here? Okay, here we go then ...

This really is, UNAPOLOGETICALLY, a comedy. I mean yeah, this is a classic fantasy action adventure in the Willow, Krull or Ladyhawke mold, but it is also very enthusiastically POKING FUN at the classic conventions of the genre ... albeit CLEARLY done with great affection and love for the material, as only the best lampoons can be. So this is more The Princess Bride or Galaxy Quest than Your Highness or Spaceballs ...

Chris Pine is ALWAYS at his best when he's being FUNNY, so he is PERFECT here. Edgin is most definitely a bit of a douchebag, but he's the sweetest, most lovable douchebag you'll ever encounter.

Holga. Literally just EVERYTHING about Holga. She's my favourite character in this, this REALLY IS the best role that Michelle Rodriguez has EVER HAD, if you ask me. She's a total badass, a truly AMAZING FIGHTER, but I love that despite her dour demeanour she's actually quite sweet, gentle and really a great innocent in many ways. She's an absolute cinammon roll and must be protected at all costs.

OH MY GODS!!! All the easter eggs, SO MANY easter eggs ... FAR too many to count throughout, all the references and nods and winks to the game itself, all the spells and races and creatures and stuff ... but I love how the movie NEVER beats you over the head pointing any of it out, it just lets you enjoy it. So the proper fans will get a huge kick out of spotting it all, but casual viewers will just enjoy it as rich worldbuilding colour and flavour.

Seriously though, it's a D&D fan's DREAM!!! Not just the mimic, or the owlbear, or the gelatinous cube! SO MUCH to spot ...

Justice Smith's Simon gets THE CLEVEREST and best introduction in the film, I love the theatre scene, he's SO BAD at this while also simulataneously being really great. Totally sums up this gloriously clunky hot mess of a sorcerer ...

the opening is GENIUS, totally sets the movie up as it means to go on - the parole hearing is a brilliant comedic take on the scene-setting infodump which is brilliantly carried through in the way the movie delivers exposition in a fun way or just lets you absorb it through what's happening in each scene. This is the perfect, TEXTBOOK way to do it.

"That is one pudgy dragon!" LOL

Doric. Just EVERYTHING about Doric. Sophia Lillis' tiefling druid is a wonderful diminutive little action hero, so fiesty and capable. I love her. It's just a shame she's not primary coloured, I'd have loved it even more if she'd been blue, or red ...

The Wildshape Escape! XD Yeah, I love that, that's THE BEST set-piece in the whole movie, definitely, when Doric gets cught out spying and has to shapeshift on the fly to get away, and it all plays out in one immersive single shot that just leaves your heart in your mouth ...

Oh, the Speak With The Dead montage, that is comedy GOLD. Funniest scene in the whole movie. And with added payoff at the end! XD

Rege-Jean Page's Xenk Yendar. Oh boy, that paladin is something else. I love how LITERAL he is, he's like Drax in GOTG but much more intelligent. Y'know when Holga says: "You're not a lot of fun, are you?" to him? She's so wrong. I just wish there was more of him in this ...

The heist! Oh, the heist! So good ... the portal trick, it's great, love the way they did that, and then that HILARIOUS bard illusion distraction - Pine skipping the song like a broken record was just chef's kiss!

That wonderful wibbly-wobbly illusory reality thing whenever Simon tries to atune to the Helm ... wow, that is some spectacularly trippy shit. Granted, twice is fine for terms of pacing, but I could've done with a few more scenes of that, it's fascinating.

Hugh Grant really has just become a MASTER at playing smarmy, slimy duplicitous gits now, hasn't he? Forge is a reprehensible prick and I love it.

I love how they made Bradley Cooper a halfling for his cameo. They're never gonna let him live down the fact that he's now probably best known for playing a two-foot-tall talking racoon so forever after he will be a Short King.

Wow, Daisy Head's Sofina is a CRACKING villain, she's just SO CREEPY!!! I love how coolly menacing she is, a brilliant dark necromantic wizard that just makes your skin crawl. Especially at the end ... IS SHE a lich? Is that what they were doing there?

That whole big action climax, the showdown in the city centre is FIRE!!! It's so amazing, so brilliantly dynamic, with EVEN MORE great easter eggs! Simon and Sofina having an insanely awesome "arm wrestling" bout with Mage Hand versus Earthen Grasp (I think that's the spell, couldn't be sure), oh my gods! So cool ... and then the way they neutralised the threat! Brilliant.

Chloe Coleman's Kira is an absolutely adorable delight, and I think she's ENTIRELY JUSTIFIED in how pissed she is at Edgin for abandoning her. It makes the payoff when they finally make up so much better.

And that resurrection scene at the end? Yeah, sure, I saw that coming a mile off, but it was so well done, and they played it so well, that it was still SUCH a powerful scene even so. Just perfect.

Seriously, they just did this whole thing SO PERFECTLY. It's visually STUNNING, really it just looks AMAZING, and the action sequences are BRILLIANT but always feel entirely necessary for the story, which is how you want to do it. Best of all, though, is THE PACING!!! This is such a quick, breezy film, it just barrels along at a spectacular clip, so it never drags. Mark Kermode is right, even though this is two and a quarter hours long it doesn't FEEL LIKE IT, it feels like a super-trim 90-minute movie.

And it ties everything off nice and neat, too. Sure, there are definitely possibilities for the future, going forward if they make more, but if the movie DOES tank then it's fine, because this really does do a great job about feeling self-contained and telling its own complete story, so if we DON'T get more it won't be too big a disappointment ...

[theplottdump]

Diego: Well now- I was possibly startin' to suspect that maybe I burnt myself on the old iron for nothin'. I'm mighty glad to find out I was wrong.

Kate: No holes? Diego: Not a single one that ain't where it supposed to be. Kate: Well that is impressive.

Diego: We may not be havin' the greatest track record with first or second impressions - Kate: - or third. Diego: But I got a good feelin' that tonight might be the one we finally get right.

Diego: Now Miss Kate, I got a hunch that's gonna require some thorough examination.

The Cowboy guided the Secret Agent's hand into the air, throwing her into a playful twirl- studying intently as he gave a thoughtful once over, before his face finally twisted into a wry smile, seemingly having come to a solid conclusion.

Kate let out an involuntary laugh as she saw his face deep in mock thought, spinning back to face him again.

Kate: What is it?? Diego: Yep. It's official. Kate: 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵? Diego: I think I miss the hat.

Kate: You're hilarious. Diego: And the lil' matching riding pants- please tell me you didn't toss em. Kate: I'll toss you if you're not careful. Diego: That a promise?

Kate: 𝘞𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘸𝘣𝘰𝘺. I can still leave you here alone. Diego: Well then I guess you'll be havin' quite the sense of humor if you're thinkin' I'm about to let you go anytime soon.

Diego: But if you'd let me finish detailin' my observations- I wanted to say that I suspect this may be one of the finest dresses I've ever seen on quite possibly the prettiest girl I've ever met.

And I for one, would love to buy it a drink.

[sixthsensewulf]

I think people are forgetting in the whole discussion against the Rat Grinders.

That Porter and Jace are pretty much the major villains here. The big bad. So their damage and health output will be slighter more the challenge against the Bad Kids.

The Rat Grinders are not. But also The Rat Grinders ain't level 20 they just have access to level 20 abilities, is what I grabbed from last week's AP. I could be wrong on that.

This fight is like the previous fights in FH. Like yes the bad kids are clearing the house rn with the Rat Grinders but also doing some shenanigans with Porter and Jace to literally make sure that they (The Bad Kids) are not bunched up around a Sorcerer and Barbarian.

Story wise : am I slightly disappointed that the Bad Kids ain't trying to convince The Rat Grinders to stop? No. . Like take the fucking finale in Neverafter.

The team literally were killing the fairies as well as attacking the Hand and the Stepmother. .. Like literally this fight feels similar to that fight.

Ally being on healing this time rather than spell casting. They didn't try to convince the fairies or the Princesses (apart from Mira and Elody since they did have a stronger connection) to join their side. Apart from the Orange Hat shenanigans.. it was a serious fight, story wise as well as strategic wise.

Back to FH. .unless I missed it... The Bad Kids ain't figured out a way to solve the rage crystals right? Like Lydia (Ragh's mom) was in a rage because of a different god in a gem in her chest. That the bad kids solved. Like they didn't stop things from happening during Frosty Fair, only Grix. The soil problem was still there. The only leg up they had was the name Ankarna and the connection to Cassandra as well as the non corrupted realm is in Fig's recording studio.

Like if the Rat Grinders weren't going nuts towards the Bad Kids. They wouldn't even be on the Bad Kids radar. It's like a high school movie right like for example Mean Girls. The popular kids don't see the nerdy groups unless somehow they combine or clash.

The fight would be the same. Like oh 6 teenagers are helping you to destroy the world. Okay... You are going down.

Like honesty story beat wise... The Bad kids know that the Rat Grinders ain't at fault pre rage crystal right. So yeah they might bring them back up after solving everything. Kipperlilly however HATED RIZ since Freshman Year. .we know that. KLCK wanted Riz's life / backstory during freshman year. Because of what we found out from Jawbone. She was already angry at the Bad Kids pre rage crystal.

[romanarose]

The Bikeriders as a metaphor for bisexuality

Now I ain't saying this was intentional because I'm pretty sure it's not but this is how I read the struggle between Johnny and Kathy for Benny just feels like Benny's internal struggle between homosexuality and heteosexuality, how neither of it fits him so he was always walking that line.

For the record Im speaking in terms of binary gender because this is just a simple movie theory. I am well aware of other genders but this is just how I see it.

Spoilers below

Kathy tried to get him to leave, he wouln't do it. It's like he wouldn't let go of that same/sex attraction, the queerness, the subversive side of him.

Johnny never tried to get him to leave Kathy for him, but his pull comes in the two times he tried to get Benny to take over the club. Benny refused, because that full commitment to the club, the lifestyle, would be rejecting the other side of him.

He didn't want to choose. he wanted to just be himself. I think his happiness came in accepting that.

Benny didnt give up riding because Kathy made him. He gave it up because Johnny was dead and that broke him. He was ready to settle down. Benny didn't choose "being straight", I think in his crying, his finally crying he and Kathy new what Johnny was to him and I think Benny accepted who he was. Then he was happy with Kathy, because he did love her. I think she was wrong that he didn't miss it. I think he did. But I think he misses it in a sense that we as people will always long for the past.

Another way I see it is that yes, he's happy. Yes he has a good life. But Maybe he was always going to end up with Kathy as the "settling down". Johnny didn't equal settling down. I think a lot of times, especially back then, homosexuality was viewed as a phase, like the trope of college girls going through a "gay phase" or concepts of homoerotic military men secluded from women. That its something you do for a while then you "grow out of it." But thats not how it really works. I stand by that Benny loves Kathy and is happy at the end.

He smiles, which is rare for his character. He's smiling when Kathy isn't looking, so he's not performing for anyone.

But I think when you look at it in the context of the time, she was the option if he wanted to settle down. That, as bisexual people, maybe you have some crazy times in college but then you find someone in a heterosexual relationship and settle and try to put that behind you. It doesn't mean he's not happy, as bisexual people in straightpassing relationships are happy. It just means, when the motercycle sounds echo for him, he still thinks about the past. the what if.

And thats just a human thing to do.

I saw The Bikeriders on Saturday and then twice, yes twice today (sunday). I was bawling at the end the last two times when the bisexual metaphore theory came to me. I read Benny as bi right away.

Johnny is said to have gotten his inspiration from Marlon Brando. Bando has talked about being bisexual. Another famous name and face of Brando's era was James Dean. Although Dean was more a car guy in the end, he was deffinetly into motercycles. Dean's sexuality is speculated but many close friends say he was bisexual.

I think it would be almost impossible not to have homoerotic subtext with this sort of thing if the movie was true to inspirations of the era. I don't know how you can watch it and think benny and Johnny dont want each other.

Personally, I don't think Johnny was bi, I think he was gay. I think because of how little emphasis on his wife there was, how she never quite seemed to get him, not in the way Benny got him, I think he was gay. I think he married and had kids because thats what you did.

Anyway all this to say I fucking love this movie. At first watch I wasn't a fan of Austin butlers performance but now I get it. Wow. I get it

I know its not anyone intention making the movie for it to be a metaphore for bisexuality but I can just see it see clearly.

This came out during pride month for a reason

[blvckentropy]

WARNING LONG RANT!

Okay so I've been sitting on Drake so called "diss track" and I still declare it as the biggest CONTRADICTING ASS track ever. Like I get die hard Drake fans gone be like he won regardless but he hasn't because he made several deep holes in his argument. Granted you probably don't give a damn and that's fine. Overall, neither do I but some of you got so blinded and hyped by his one-liners and his flow that you ain't peep what he really said did you? Ngl, had me sitting here like a was crazy for a minute. Now correct me if I'm wrong cause I also had to fact check myself, but these are the lines that got me like now wait wait....

You said, "The ones that you're gettin' your stories from, they all clowns" just to say "We plotted for a week and then we fed you the information".... which one is it? Are you calling yourself a clown or the ppl you sent the info. to? I'm perplexed.

"What about the bones we dug up in that excavation? And why isn't Whitney denyin' all of the allegations? Why is she following Dave Free and not Mr. Morale? You haven't seen the kids in six months, the distance is wild Dave leaving heart emojis underneath pics of the child"

First and for most, what is your obsession with this woman? Also are we in high school? Why we worried about someone follow count and/or who following who? She a grown ass woman like she can't have male friends. Plus, if irl she with Kendrick every day, why does she need to? And if Kendrick aint worried about, why are you? You caught up in finding out if that's her real bd but where are your evidence? If Kendrick has to, you do too. Childish.

BUT THIS IS WHERE IT GOT DISRESPECTFUL!

"This Epstein angle was the shit I expected TikTok videos you collected and dissected Instead of being on some diss-direct shit You rather fucking grab your pen and misdirect shit My mom came over today and I was like, "Mother, I—, mother, I—, mother—" Ah, wait a second, that's that one record where you say you got molested"

"This about to get so depressin' This is trauma from your own confessions This when your father leave you home alone with no protection, so neglected That's why these pedophile raps and shit you so obsessed with, it's so excessive"

"Touch My Body" by Mariah Carey play, you probably start reflectin"

This whole verse was a misinterpretation of Kendrick's song "Mother I Sober" which I had to educate myself with. Long story short, the song is about his mom SA and how she thought he was by his cousin even when he told her "no" and it forms a bigger picture to his overall family trauma as a whole and so on. So not only did you Mr. " You gotta learn to fact check things and be less impatient" if that ain't the biggest pot calling the kettle black idk what is. You got it wrong (Kendrick pretty much explained it) then double down on borderline prob over the line atp disrespecting his mother and all and every victim of SA? We victim shaming now?

I never been with no one underage, but now I understand why this the angle that you really mess with Just for clarity, I feel disgusted, I'm too respected If I was fucking young girls, I promise I'd have been arrested I'm way too famous for this shit you just suggested

*Slow claps* Congratulations you played yourself. What in the fuckery? CURRENTLY....DIDDY DOODLE BOB HAS ALLEGATIONS RIGHT NOW AND HE'S MORE FAMOUS THAN U. And don't get me started on the list....umm...you literally just named one (If you still bumping R. Kelly, you could thank the Savior)

"Only fuckin' with Whitneys, not Millie Bobby Browns, I'd never look twice at no teenager" but you'll look once? Also, someone que up the video with him on stage w/ a 17-year-old. He and I quote "Why you look like that?" "You thick. look at all this" Then kiss her all over her face🤔 Sir a kiss on the cheek or forehead would suffice but I digress.

And correct me if I'm wrong, I believe the only reason Kendrick hasn't even the touch the "beating allegations" is because he covers all that in both Mr. Morale and Mother I sober? If I'm correct, then you basically didn't tell us nothing that hasn't been said on him. Plus you also not fact checking. Where's of your proof? I would think someone with the upper hand would have laid down evidence that you mastermind...oh wait...was Kendrick right along? Now you look like the goofy on defense. Like do Kendrick even have to say anything?

Bruh, but the funniest part on it all. You acting like YOU DIDN'T ASK FOR THIS. YOU DROP A DISS first wanting him to response and now you trying to make it seem like you didn't? My guy, if your actions alone here isn't a manipulation master class. Chileeeeee