#because it's about people! and relationships!

[mofsblog]

"This is some gay shit" Good. Silly. Fair enough. Doesn't inherently invalidate other interpretations of the relationship. Honestly yeah, it is kind of gay regardless of their canonical relationship status

"There's literally no platonic explanation for th-" WRONG!! KILLING YOU WITH AMATANORMATIVITY KILLING LOBSTERS 🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞

[goldfades]

HOTTEST COUPLE IN THE ROOM ───JB⁹

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 2.5k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | requested! -> "Joe x Dallas cowboy cheerleader reader"

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | reader is kinda perceived as bitchy, and not a cookie-cutter dcc. lots of a banter, leads to relationship.

⟢ ┈ 𝐞𝐯'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | my new fav thing EVER

The bass shakes the floor beneath your heels, the scent of top-shelf liquor and expensive cologne thick in the air. The postgame party is exactly what you expected—too many people, too much noise, and a lingering sense of competition that doesn’t quite fade even after the game’s final whistle. Cowboys and Bengals players mix like oil and water, good-natured jabs tossed between sips of whiskey, the occasional laugh laced with something sharper.

You don’t want to be here.

But when the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders make an appearance, it’s not optional. It’s PR. It’s “team camaraderie.” It’s smiling through gritted teeth while some dude in a suit with more money than personality tells you how impressive it is that you can do a perfect high kick in full glam.

You adjust the hem of your dress, shifting against the leather couch tucked in the VIP section. It’s not that you’re bad at playing the part. You just don’t fit the mold the way you’re supposed to. The other girls—prim, polished, always camera-ready—glide through the room like they were born for this. You, on the other hand, are already toeing the line of “too much.” Too opinionated, too unpredictable, too unwilling to be anything other than exactly who you are.

And yet, you’re still here. Because when you dance, they shut up about the rest.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show,” a voice drawls beside you, cutting through the music.

Your gaze shifts, locking onto the last person you expected to seek you out tonight. Joe Burrow.

His suit jacket is slung over his arm, the sleeves of his crisp white button-down rolled up just enough to give him that effortlessly put-together look. He’s got that half-smirk that’s made him a social media obsession, and yet there’s something else in his expression—curiosity, maybe. Amusement.

You raise a brow. “Didn’t think you knew who I was.”

“Oh, I know who you are.” His eyes flicker, something sharp and knowing in them. “Hard to miss the cheerleader who doesn’t play by the rules.”

You tilt your head, feigning offense. “I play by the rules.”

Joe huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Nah. You don’t. You just make it look like you do.”

And there it is. The first crack in the game, the unspoken understanding settling between you like a drawn line in the sand.

It should be nothing.

But somehow, it doesn’t feel like nothing.

You lean back against the couch, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, the other toying with the rim of the drink you don’t actually want. The ice clinks softly as you swirl it, eyes flicking back to Joe, unimpressed but not entirely disinterested.

“Wow,” you deadpan. “Joe Burrow knows my reputation. I guess I can retire now.”

Joe huffs a quiet laugh, the kind that barely shakes his shoulders. “Just saying, you don’t blend in.”

You lift a brow. “Neither do you.”

His smirk deepens, just a little. “Difference is, I’m supposed to stand out.”

You roll your eyes. “God, you’re worse than I thought.”

Joe blinks, feigning offense. “Worse?”

“Yeah.” You tilt your head, taking him in. “I figured you’d at least let me get a word in before pulling the ‘I’m Joe Burrow’ card.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

The smirk on his face falters just a fraction, like he’s recalculating his approach. He came over here thinking he’d charm you with minimal effort, just like he probably does with every other girl in this room. You can’t blame him. You’re used to guys like him—ones who assume that a few smooth lines and a good jawline will be enough to win you over. It’s exhausting, really.

Joe, to his credit, seems to pick up on it quickly. He shifts his stance, dropping the easy arrogance just a notch, watching you like he’s trying to figure out a new play mid-game.

“So, you don’t like football players,” he guesses.

“I never said that.”

“You don’t seem impressed.”

“I’m just not easily impressed.”

Joe clicks his tongue, shaking his head like he’s been personally challenged. “Tough crowd.”

You let out a short laugh, finally taking a sip of your drink. The warmth spreads through you, smoothing the edges of your already sharp tongue. “Look, I get it. You’re Joe Cool, media darling, golden boy, future Hall of Famer, blah, blah, blah. But none of that tells me who you actually are.”

Joe’s quiet for a beat, like he wasn’t expecting you to cut through the bullshit so quickly. Most people don’t.

He studies you. “You wanna know who I am?”

“I wanna know if you can hold a conversation that doesn’t involve your highlight reel.”

Joe grins, shaking his head like you’re more trouble than he bargained for—but not the kind he wants to walk away from.

“Alright,” he says, leaning in slightly. “Let’s make it fair. Since you’re so uninterested in my career, how about I ask about yours?”

You narrow your eyes. “Go for it.”

He tilts his head. “You always wanted to be a cheerleader?”

You pause for a fraction of a second. It’s not a bad question, but it’s not the usual small talk either. It’s got an edge to it, like he’s actually curious.

“No,” you admit. “I wanted to be an astronaut.”

Joe snorts. “Serious?”

“As a heart attack.” You smirk. “But apparently, NASA frowns upon people who talk back to their instructors.”

Joe laughs now, really laughs, and it does something to his face—makes it lighter, less perfectly put-together. It’s a nice look on him.

“So, you settled for the next most intense program?” he asks.

“Something like that.” You glance around the room, at the Cowboys players, the other cheerleaders, the high-profile guests all schmoozing and clinking glasses. “DCC is its own version of NASA. Just with more hairspray and stricter calorie counts.”

Joe hums, considering that. “And yet, you don’t seem the type to take orders.”

You shrug. “I don’t. But I’m really, really good at what I do.”

His gaze lingers for half a second too long. “Yeah,” he says, low and thoughtful. “I bet you are.”

There’s something about the way he says it that makes your breath catch for just a second—not because you’re flustered, but because it feels like he actually sees you, past the sequins and forced smiles and PR obligations.

You tap your nails against your glass, breaking whatever was starting to settle between you. “Well, congrats,” you say, all light and teasing again. “You managed to hold a conversation without bringing up your own stats.”

Joe grins, lazy and triumphant. “And?”

You take a slow sip, watching him over the rim of your glass. “You’re not completely insufferable.”

Joe laughs, leaning back into the couch. “I’ll take it.”

The first date wasn’t supposed to happen.

At least, not in your mind.

But Joe had this way of slipping through the cracks of your carefully built walls, catching you off guard in a way that wasn’t annoying, but intriguing. So, when he had looked at you across that crowded party and said, “One drink. No football talk,” you had rolled your eyes, but ultimately, you had agreed.

One drink turned into three. A post-midnight drive through downtown. A completely ridiculous bet over who could name more obscure 90s songs (you won, obviously). And then, somehow, a second date.

And that was the real surprise.

Because by then, you figured you had him pegged. Star quarterback, smooth operator, probably used to women falling over themselves to impress him. But the Joe you saw away from the cameras, when it was just the two of you in a dimly lit hole-in-the-wall bar or sprawled out on his couch, eating takeout straight from the boxes, was different. He was easy in a way that felt familiar, like a song you hadn’t heard in years but still knew all the words to.

And he got you.

Most guys would tense up when you made some sarcastic comment, unsure if they should be amused or offended. Joe just smirked and shot one right back, quick and sharp like one of his passes. The banter was effortless, the chemistry undeniable, but it never felt forced.

It felt like you’d known him forever.

Which was dangerous.

Because you weren’t supposed to like him this much.

But a few months flew by before you could think too hard about it.

One minute, you were rolling your eyes at him in a Dallas bar. The next, you were sneaking glances at your phone in the middle of DCC rehearsals, trying not to smile at whatever nonsense he had just texted you.

Then came the flights.

You found yourself booking tickets to Cincinnati more often than you’d ever expected, trading in your Texas sunsets for the sharp chill of Ohio air, showing up in his city like you belonged there. And the crazy part? It never felt inconvenient. You had never been the type to rearrange your schedule for a guy, but with Joe, it was different. He made the effort too—catching flights to see you between games, showing up unannounced just to grab dinner, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

It should’ve been overwhelming, but it wasn’t.

Because nothing about Joe was ever boring.

You’d expected the excitement in the beginning—the flirty back-and-forth, the teasing, the lingering looks that stretched longer than they should. But what you hadn’t expected was the way he made everything feel lighter. How he made you laugh when you were dead on your feet after an exhausting game day. How he somehow always knew when you needed to talk and when you just needed to sit in comfortable silence.

And yeah, the tension was there. Always.

You weren’t blind, and Joe sure as hell wasn’t either. There were moments—when his hand lingered on your lower back a second too long, when you caught him watching you with that unreadable expression, when he pulled you into a hug that felt like it meant something more.

But neither of you pushed it. Not yet.

For now, it was enough to just exist in whatever this was.

And, for the first time in a long time, you weren’t in any rush to define it.

The New York City skyline stretched high above the venue, lights twinkling like they were in on the secret that tonight was something different.

Joe didn’t hide you.

He hadn’t from the start, really, but there was a difference between showing up for each other in private and standing next to him now, his hand resting low on your back, his fingers pressing into the fabric of your dress like he wanted everyone to see exactly where you belonged.

And you?

You looked good enough to ruin a man’s career.

Your dress was the kind that turned heads—sleek, with just enough edge to remind people that you weren’t the typical quarterback’s girlfriend. Joe wasn’t intimidated by it, wasn’t the type to shrink when his girl demanded attention. No, if anything, he was thriving on it. Walking into the party with you on his arm, chin high, like he knew for a fact that you were the hottest couple in the room.

And you were.

It didn’t matter that the place was full of some of the most famous athletes in the league, that models and influencers and A-listers milled around with expensive drinks in hand—no one looked as good as the two of you together.

Joe left you only once, leaning down to murmur, “Gonna get us a drink, don’t go too far.”

You weren’t worried about being left alone. You’d been in these rooms before, could handle yourself just fine.

But apparently, someone didn’t get the memo.

The moment Joe was out of earshot, a presence settled beside you—too close, too confident.

“Damn, haven’t seen you in a minute.”

You already knew you were going to hate him before you even looked.

And sure enough, when you turned, there he was. A Cowboys player, one you’d interacted with just enough to know he was exactly the type you had no patience for. Cocky in a way that wasn’t charming, self-important in a way that made your skin itch.

You barely had time to open your mouth before he bulldozed on.

“So, what, you finally got tired of playing in the kiddie pool and upgraded?” He grinned, not even waiting for you to respond. “Figured it was only a matter of time. The whole ‘untouchable cheerleader’ thing was getting old.”

You smiled. Smirked, really. Because this? This was amusing.

He thought you were flustered. Thought you were scrambling for a way out.

Like you hadn’t been shutting down men like him since the first time you ever put on that DCC uniform.

“Oh, yeah,” you said, voice smooth as silk. “Joe’s an upgrade, alright.” You tilted your head, eyes dragging over him in an exaggerated once-over. “But considering what I was working with before, it really didn’t take much.”

His smile flickered, but he was too stubborn to let it go. “C’mon, you don’t have to pretend with me. I know you, remember? Back when you were just another Dallas girl trying to play hard to get?”

You actually laughed at that.

Not a fake, polite one. A real one. Because this was just sad.

“Wow,” you mused. “I’ve gotta give it to you, you commit to the bit. Most guys would’ve tapped out by now, but you? You’re still going. That’s dedication.”

His jaw tensed just slightly. “I’m just saying, no need to act all high and mighty. We both know you used to—”

“Used to what?”

Your voice was still sweet, still playful, but the underlying steel was there. And when you took a slow sip of your drink, watching him over the rim, it was clear you were letting him dig his own grave.

Before he could figure out how to claw his way out, a shadow loomed beside you.

Joe.

But not in the swooping, Oh no! My girl is in distress! way.

No, he was calm. Casual. Like he had all the time in the world. His presence alone was enough to shift the energy in the conversation, but you didn’t even acknowledge him yet. You wanted to see just how long it would take for the guy in front of you to realize he’d lost.

Turns out, not long.

Joe didn’t say anything, just leaned slightly against the bar, watching with mild interest. But the weight of his presence alone did something to your uninvited guest—made him shift uncomfortably, made his easy confidence crack just a little.

And that? That was satisfying.

“I was just catching up with your girl,” the Cowboy muttered, backtracking so fast you almost wanted to laugh.

Joe didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah?” He glanced at you, finally acknowledging you with a knowing smirk. “You having fun?”

You took another sip, grinning. “Oh, loads.”

The guy beside you tensed. “I was just—”

“Leaving?” you supplied helpfully.

His mouth opened. Closed. Then, without another word, he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Joe chuckled, finally handing you the drink he had left to get. “You were having way too much fun with that.”

You shrugged, taking a sip. “Can you blame me?”

He shook his head, draping an arm lazily around your waist, pulling you in just slightly. “Guess not.”

And the night went on.

Just you and Joe. The hottest couple in the room.

[gracieheartspedro]

Cherry Stems

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 3.1k

description: eddie rejects your advances because his friends are around. so you use them to your advantage. piss eddie off and maybe you'll get what you want. maybe.

warnings: MDNI! 18+ only pls, age not specified but i imagine eddie/reader are 20+, porn without much plot, major teasing, reader is a brat, mentions of eating food, reader has no food aversions, nicknames, reader is flirting with eddie's bandmates, jealousy, possessiveness, name calling, face grabbing, eddie is lowkey a dom, unprotected p in v, fingering (vaginal), oral fixation, eddie puts his fingers in your mouth a lot, reader gets off on being bullied, orgasm denial, cum play, cum eating.... think that's it.

author’s note: hi i wrote this in one night. i am a whore for eddie, what else can i say. i'm also down to take requests, so if you see this, hey, send me an ask. maybe i'll cave and do some. as always, thanks bestie girl @amanitacowboy for helping me with this. let's never forget how much of a whore we are for this man. it keeps me (in)sane <3

Eddie had been teasing you all night and it was really starting to get to you. 

After a pretty electric performance at The Hideout, Eddie and his friends decided that they were hungry for some burgers from the empty Shiny Diner nearby. You had already had enough of Eddie’s shit at this point, so as soon as you sat next to him in the big half moon shaped booth, you knew it was game on. 

From eyeing you while he sang filthy lyrics from the stage, to the way he was working his hand up the hem of your dress when you sat at the bar, Eddie was truly being a menace. When the band got loud in the car on the way to the diner, you decided to make your move. You had rested your hand on Eddie’s crotch while sitting in the bucket seat next to him. While Eddie loved giving a good show, he was not keen on letting his friends see you in such a way. So he brushed your hand away and gave you the ‘not now’ eyes. 

You were for him and him only.

It aggravated you to no end, watching him rejoin the conversation with the guys, while you crossed your arms in disappointment.

But you were going to push some buttons tonight. You were going to get him back.

Gareth, Jeff, and Grant were all very sweet boys. Each of them have never been nothing but respectful of you. Gareth had known you longer than Eddie and he was actually the one who introduced you two. Jeff was usually a know-it-all, but he never dared question anything you said. And Grant… he was just quiet. Always following along with the antics and very well mannered. 

While you respected all the boys back, you also knew they found you attractive and that you could take advantage of that. After one specific smoke session together a couple months back, Eddie asked them all if they had a crush on you. He only ever said things like that to make them squirm. Teasing each other was the way they showed their love for one another. He also liked to remind people that they never stood a chance with you. And they all said that of course they found you pretty, but they would not dare go after you. 

Well, for one night only, you would give them believe they had a chance. Just to piss off Eddie. 

You had done this before. A year into your relationship, you had unintentionally made him jealous and it led to the most mind blowing sex of your life. The sex was so memorable that you do not even remember how you made him jealous. 

You needed that just about now. 

You were the only group there along with the waitress and line cook, so you were not worried about making a scene. You game plan how you were going to achieve such a feat as you scan the diner menu. You already knew what you wanted, but spotting the milkshakes on the list of drinks, a light bulb went off in your brain. 

The older waitress took down the boy’s order while you sat quietly staring at the menu. When it came down to you, you look up at the white haired woman and smiled. 

“One chocolate shake, extra whip cream and cherries, please.” You hand her the menu and glance over at a confused Eddie. You usually got a Dr. Pepper and a cheeseburger value meal, hold the lettuce. 

“Not hungry, baby?” He asks, reaching out for your black painted nails. You slide your hand away, acting like you are reaching for something in your purse. 

“Just wanna try something new.”

You pull your lipgloss out, still not looking over at Eddie. You twist off the top, placing the applicator on the middle of your bottom lip as your eyes flicker over to Grant’s. He is not paying much mind to anything, his eyes looking towards the window behind you. When he takes note of your gaze, he finally looks at you. 

You swipe the gloss across your lips, smirking devilishly. 

“What did you get, Grant?”

He thinks for a beat, realizing even he forgot what he ordered. “Uh… BLT with onion rings.”

You smack your lips together, rubbing your top lip on the bottom one painfully slow. 

“You gonna share your onion rings?”

He was not expecting the question, his lips curling upward before he chuckles. You can feel Eddie’s body stiffen as you ask the question. 

Grant nods, though, “Of course. You can have some-” “Baby, you’re not gonna eat his food.” You shoot a glare at Eddie, tossing your gloss back in your pocketbook. “Grant said I could, so… yeah I am.”

Eddie’s eyes search yours, trying to figure out what you are trying to do. You disguise your pleasure at his curiosity, rolling your eyes and pointing your attention at Jeff. He’s positioned right next to Grant, fiddling with his fingers. Before you can press him with a question, the waitress comes and puts down your drinks. She’s missing your milkshake. 

“That’ll be out in just a moment,” She says, grabbing her tray as she returns behind the counter, seemingly preparing your shake. You watch Jeff fiddle with his straw wrapper and you finally decide to bother him next. 

“Is that Dr. Pepper?” You ask, already knowing the answer. Jeff always got Dr. Pepper, just like you. It’s something you two bonded over often. He just nods, taking a sip of the bubbly beverage. You look over at the waitress quickly, seeing she’s still fiddling with the milkshake blender. 

You grab Jeff’s ice cold glass, your eyes glistening with innocence, “You mind if I have a sip? I’m parched.” And of course he’s too confused to say no. You pull the drink over and once it crosses to your side of the table, Eddie’s hand presses into your bare thigh. You do not react, taking Jeff’s straw into your mouth and sucking in a big sip, your eyes never leaving his. Once you pull the plastic away, you smirk. 

“Thanks, hun.” You push the drink back to him slowly. His cheeks heat up instantly when he notices your lipgloss on the tip of the straw. Eddie’s hand only squeezes more, trying to get you to look over at him. 

He wanted your attention so bad, his body curving closer to you. You can feel his gaze stuck onto the side of your face. 

Before anyone says anything else, the white haired lady returns with your chocolate shake. You giddedly grab the glass and stuff a straw into the frozen drink. 

You use your tongue to toy with the end of the straw, pulling it into your open mouth. Your eyes flicker away from Jeff and take aim at Gareth, who’s seated right across from you. Since he’s known you so long, you can already read on his face that he knows what you are up to. He may be a nice guy, but he too loves to fuck with Eddie. 

He was going to help you in whatever way possible. Instead of you initiating conversation, he speaks up. 

“Chocolate, huh? Thought you’d like vanilla.” Your eyebrow quirks up. You know Eddie’s face is bright red next to you. The heat radiating from him is pressing into your shoulder and thigh. 

“You got me pegged as a vanilla girl? That’s a bit offensive, Gare,” You smile, calculating your next move. You look down at the pile of whipped cream on the top of the shake. You drag your pointer finger across the top, gathering the cream all around it. 

You hear Eddie whispering beside you. “You better fuckin’ not.”

You smile, bringing your finger to your lips, not peeling your eyes from Gareth. You know the tension is palpable because Gareth’s smile is only widening when you lick the cream off your finger. 

The other guys are gawking at you at this point. You were putting on a show and they could not even fathom that it was happening before their very eyes. 

Gareth finally says something, nodding at the milkshake. “And extra cherries?”

“Gareth-,” Eddie’s voice fades over yours. 

“Oh yeah! You know I can tie the stems with my tongue?”

Eddie’s rings are going to be imprinted on your leg with how tightly he’s gripping onto you. You grab one of the cherries, getting your fingers covered in more whipped cream. You lean your head back a bit, your nose facing the old tile ceiling. You drop the cherry in your mouth, stem up. Tilting your head back, facing Gareth, you pull the cherry off the stem between your teeth. It’s unbelievably sensual the way you chew the red fruit. 

You show each of the boys the stem, even Eddie. When you glance over at him, you do not believe you have ever seen him so annoyed. He’s not hiding it well. You drop the stem on your tongue, returning your gaze over to Gareth. 

You roll the stem around, using your teeth slightly to do the stupid party trick you learned in 10th grade to impress a boy. It’s not impressive when every hot girl in school could do it, too. But nonetheless, it was something you could do to layer on the eroticism of the moment. 

When it’s tied, you contemplate taking it out of your mouth and showing it off. Maybe even drop it in Eddie’s hand. Instead, you decide to just extend your tongue out and show the stem on the very tip of your tongue. 

The color drains from Eddie’s face. It’s the end of the show for him. 

He grabs your forearm, ripping you out of the booth. You look back at Gareth, who’s still smiling, all the while Jeff and Grant look even more confused.  

When the fresh air hits you when he slams the glass door open, you flick your head to the side and spit out the stem in the gravel. His grip is so tight around your arm as he drags you to the van. It’s parked on the far side of the lot, occupying a spot that’s backed up to some woods. 

“What is wrong?”

Asking such a question only pisses him off further. Once you reach the van, his left hand flings the side door open. He practically tosses you onto the shag rug that lines the very back of the vehicle. 

“Are you fuckin’ with me right now?” His voice is intimidatingly deep.

Your legs hang out while Eddie stands over you, his hand resting on the top of the van. The back of your knees feel the sting of the frayed metal that hinges the door shut. You swallow, contemplating if you should continue messing with him. With the way he’s looking at you, you felt that this was not going to lead to the jealous sex you two had before. He’s actually angry. 

“You pushed my hand away when I wanted you earlier.”

Your voice is so small and unsure. His eyes narrow at you, his mouth slightly ajar in complete disbelief. The silence hanging in the air makes your heart rate increase. 

His mouth closes and you watch his jaw clench, “So you flirt with my friends right in front of me? Even when I explicitly said you better not.”

With his free hand, he swats your bare leg as you squeeze your thighs together. “Answer me.”

You watch the red mark appear on your flesh and decide to keep playing into the game. You had nothing to lose. If he’s actually angry, you could always have amazing make up sex instead. Eddie could not stay mad at you for too long. 

You shake your head, lifting your chin up in defiance. “All I did was tie a cherry stem.”

He does not accept that answer, slapping your thigh harder this time. 

You knew then that you had him where you wanted him. His eyes were giving him away. His pupils dilated as soon as he realized that you did not yelp at him slapping you around. 

Your eyes widen, watching him jump into the van beside you and dragging you back further. He slams the door, rattling the hunk of metal. The only light being let in is from the front windshield. A hazy warm lit streetlight only lights up Eddie’s face as he’s pining you to the ground. 

He positions himself between your legs, pushing the back of your thighs up with his knees. The skirt you chose for the occasion was pretty flowy, so it slid up your hips as soon as he props you up. “You want to act like a whore in front of my friends? All ‘cause I slapped your hand away earlier?”

His voice does not even sound like his. You hear the jiggling of his belt as he asks you the question. But the more twisted Eddie was, the more aroused you felt. You were drawn to him the first moment he teased you and bullied you a bit. You got off on him being callous. 

“Words. Now.”

You look down between your legs and see his cock springing free from his boxers as he shoves them down his thighs. You groan, the pulsating at your core coinciding with your heart rate. “Wanted to get your attention.”

He smacks your inner thigh, painfully close to your pantyline. You moan at the action, propping yourself up a bit more on your elbows. You watch as he carefully drags his pointer and middle finger under the hem of your lace. He smirks to himself, “That’s not what I fuckin’ asked.”

His fingers dip under your underwear, gathering the slick between your folds. You throw your head back, unable to hold back the sob as he spreads you open. You were putty in his hands, always bending to him. “Yes, Eddie.”

Your response leads to him sliding his fingers inside your cunt, a wet squelching noise filling both your ears. Your back thuds against the rug as your muscles give out under his touch. He fucks you with his fingers, the look on his face unreadable. He usually takes his time with foreplay, but this was different. He was testing how far he could take you in a limited amount of time. You were in a parking lot with his friends less than 500 feet inside, he could not take his time torturing you. 

His fingers retract from your pussy, gripping onto the lace of your panties and tearing them down your legs. When he sits back on his heels, you watch his long cock bounce with his movements. It sends a smile across your face. When he zeros in on you again, he tilts his head to the side. 

“I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t talk anymore.”

It makes you giggle at first, unsure if he’s really being serious. But when his face does not twist up into a smirk like it usually did, you realize you were in trouble. He takes ahold of his dick, leaning forward onto you. Your mouth falls open as you study Eddie dragging his tip between your slit, gathering as much of your wetness as he could. 

He sinks into you, raising your hips a bit to meet him straight on. The stretch is always overwhelming for you at first. You and Eddie fucked at least three times a week, but he always made you cum before shoving his cock deep inside you. Stretching you out for a couple minutes with two fingers is not enough for you. He hisses when he pulls back, his hands grasping onto you for dear life. 

He wastes no time setting a bruising pace. There’s no build up, he is simply taking his annoyance out on you. You are reaching out to anything around you, trying to find something to hold onto as he rams into you. You find a sweatshirt nearby, squeezing it as tight as you can as you breathe out to relax your pelvic muscles.

“Eddie, please-” You try to say, throwing your head forward. He shifts your hips a bit more, opening you up wider. As he does that, he rakes his hands upward, pushing your skirt up higher to your belly button. He shakes your head to your pleas. 

“Eddie, please.” He mocks, relocating his hand to squeeze your cheeks together. When your jaw unhinges, Eddie inspects your tongue as he drills into you. “Put my fingers in your mouth.”

“Ed-”

He sandwiches your face harder, cutting you off from being able to say anything. He fills your mouth with the two fingers that were plunging inside of you earlier. The taste of your own arousal is still present on his fingers as you swirl your tongue around the digits. You mewl as he grinds his pelvis into your clit. “Shut up,” he orders, his face centimeters from yours, “Now suck them while I fuck you.”

You have no way to talk back, so you do what he says. You hallow your cheeks out, lathering all your saliva around his fingers. The build up in the pit of your stomach only gets more intense when Eddie hoists your leg up over his shoulder. You clench around him, tears pricking your eyes as you vibrate his fingers with your moans. 

“Do not fuckin’ cum yet,” He warns, pulling his fingers in and out of your mouth. His hips are faltering as he chases his own climax. Your body feels like every nerve ending is about to implode under the pressure of you holding back your orgasm, and Eddie can sense that. He drags his fingers out from your lips, rubbing your own spit into your lips. He grabs your jaw with the same hand, pulling your face closer to his.

“Say you’re mine. You’re only gonna be mine.”

You nod, knocking his forehead slightly. “I’m only ever gonna be yours, Eddie.”

With your foreheads touching, you watch as he falls apart inside you. 

And with three vicious snaps of his hips, he spills his seed deep inside you. He does not let out a sound. His mouth is agape as deep heaves fan your face. 

When he finishes, he slides his cock out of you and sits back on his knees again. Him exiting your body is so frustrating, you want to scream.  

He uses one arm to hold your one leg back as spit covered fingers swipe up your cunt. His spend is leaking out of you and you know if he works his usual magic, you will cum in 30 seconds. 

“Please, Eddie. Please let me cum.”

He smirks villainously, “Why should I let you, hm?” He spreads your pussy lips, getting a good look as his cum dribbles down to your asshole.

You are getting desperate. You never had to beg Eddie to cum, ever. He was always so generous. 

“I promise I’ll be good. Please, please.” He chuckles dryly before sinking his fingers back into you. “Fine. Since you asked so pretty and promised to behave yourself.”

His fingers scissor into you, that familiar burn in the pit of your stomach returning. As his two fingers make work at your entrance, his thumb swipes your clit in meticulous circles. His bottom lip is tucked under his top teeth, watching you fall apart on his fingers. You are practically chanting his name as he brings you to your peak. 

When your chest heaves, finally relaxing from your orgasm, Eddie slides his digits out of you and brings them up to his plump pink lips. He licks them clean, just like you did with the whipped cream earlier. 

“Hm… Don’t see how Gareth thought you were a vanilla girl,” He states, smiling sinfully at you. “You, my dear, are a fuckin’ vixen.”

-

tags of friends who may like this idk (if you wanna be tagged in the future, just lemme know <3):

@hockeyhughes @pedgito @mediocredreams @the-unforgivenn

[heartsriki]

FOR YOUR EYES ONLY ⌇편지

pairing ᝰ ni-ki x fem!reader — featuring.. jungwon | word count: 2200+

⌇ … warnings & genre ↺ highschool au!, fluff, misunderstandings, sunshine x grumpy.

synopsis — After seeing your tiny crush nishimura riki sneak something into the confession box you just had to investigate.

lee's ₊˚⊹ ᰔ comment ┊guys I swear ill make a non highschool au with riki soon... I couldn't help myself.. anyways its FEB!! can't wait to write valentines themed fics!

Finally.

It was your favorite month of the whole year.

You worked as a library assistant at your school—not because you particularly loved the job, but because it was better than joining a club.

Well… that’s what you told people.

In reality, you had a secret gig.

Tucked away in the most secluded part of the library was your confession box—a simple, unassuming container where students could slip in anonymous notes pouring out their feelings.

It started as something just for you. A place to vent when things got overwhelming. But then, he found out.

Jungwon.

You had no choice but to let him in on your little secret, and somehow, he became your best friend. Over time, word spread, and people started using the box themselves. What once held only your thoughts turned into a place where students whispered their love stories into folded pieces of paper.

Only Jungwon knew you were the one behind it.

And now, February had arrived—the holy grail of confessions. Sure, people submitted notes year-round, but around Valentine’s Day? The numbers spiked.

You weren’t going to lie. You loved it. Not just the thrill of reading them (and occasionally sharing the best ones with Jungwon, who never breathed a word), but the idea that you were helping people express what they were too afraid to say out loud.

So here you were, stationed at the front desk, pretending to browse book requests on the computer when a group of girls giggled their way to the back of the library.

Your eyes flickered toward them, amused. Definitely not because you were excited to read their confessions later. Nope. Definitely not.

Then, moments later—he walked in.

Riki.

The second you saw him, your instincts flared up. Suspicious.

Riki never stepped foot in the library. He barely did his assignments, let alone read for fun. So why was he here?

You watched, careful not to make it obvious. He glanced around, acting almost… nervous? And then, without a word, he disappeared into the back.

Seconds later, he reappeared from the other side—hands in his pockets, expression unreadable, walking out as if nothing had happened.

Your breath hitched.

No way.

Did Nishimura Riki just put a confession in your box?

Your hand scrambled for your phone. You had to tell someone.

You:

JUNGWONJUNGWONOMG

PLSPLSANSWERLOOKATURPHONE

Wonnie:

Ok what the hell

What is it?

You:

You are NEVER going to believe who just slid into the back of the library.

Wonnie:

Is it Jake again? Poor guy

Maybe Jay? Idk tell me

You:

Nishimura… Riki…

Wonnie:

… Fr?

Maybe he confessed to you?

You:

Right, totally.

Wonnie:

Think about it.

And you did think about it.

You and Riki had a… relationship. Not exactly a friendship, but not total strangers either.

You first met in detention.

It was your first time there, and you had no idea what you were supposed to do. So, naturally, you turned to the guy next to you—the one with his headphones on, slouched in his seat like he owned the place.

Curious, you tapped his shoulder.

He flinched, looking caught before turning to glare at you. “What?”

You blinked. “How did you sneak those in? Can I listen too?”

Before he could answer, you asked another question. “Wait, also—what are we supposed to do in here?”

His face twisted in disbelief. “What do we do in detention? You sit here. Now be quiet before—”

“Mr. Nishimura, sneaking electronics in again?” The teacher’s voice cut in, hand outstretched.

Riki groaned, slumping back in his seat before begrudgingly handing over his phone and headphones.

When the teacher walked away, he snapped his head back to you, eyes burning with betrayal.

You swore he glared at you for the rest of the day.

Ever since then, you tried to make it up to him—with snacks, lunch, even passing him worksheets to copy. Eventually, after weeks of bugging him, he forgave you.

Kind of.

Even now, he still acted so indifferent.

Whenever you waved at him in the hallway, he looked away. When you invited him to sit with you and your friends, he ignored you. Even when you walked beside him, talking about anything and everything—he barely responded.

At first, you assumed he was just bad with people. But then you saw him with his friends—laughing, joking, talking.

So why was he only like this with you?

Eventually, you gave up.

You distanced yourself, refusing to waste energy on someone who clearly wanted nothing to do with you.

But then, every now and then, you’d catch him staring—or see him approach you, only to hesitate and walk away.

It was confusing. Frustrating. You told yourself you didn’t care anymore.

Until the school trip.

It had been late at night when you were sent to fetch supplies from the shed—a small, isolated building at the edge of the woods.

You weren’t scared, but walking alone with only a flashlight wasn’t exactly comforting.

By the time you found everything, thunder rumbled outside. Moments later, the skies opened up.

Heavy rain. Lightning. The kind of downpour that turned dirt trails into slippery nightmares.

Running back wasn’t an option.

So, hugging your knees to your chest, you sat in the shed—silent, alone, trying not to cry.

Minutes passed. Then—

The door burst open.

You jumped, heart nearly stopping—until your eyes locked with his.

Riki.

He stood there, soaked from head to toe, breathless, his curls sticking to his forehead.

Did he… run here?

He didn’t speak. Just stared for a moment, like he was checking if you were okay, before stepping inside and sitting next to you.

“Jesus,” he muttered. “You’re helpless, you know that?”

You blinked, then let out a soft, teary laugh. He was trying to act tough. But he was clearly worried.

Neither of you spoke after that. You just sat there, listening to the storm. Well, you spoke—rambling like you used to, and for once, he didn’t seem to mind.

By the time the rain cleared, something between you had shifted.

And now, months later, here you were—staring at an empty confession box, knowing Riki put something inside, yet not finding his name anywhere.

Jungwon’s voice pulled you back.

“I knew I’d find you here.” He smirked. “Anything good?”

You forced a laugh, trying to mask your disappointment. “Yeah, some interesting ones. Oh—Minji completely dropped her last crush and moved on to a new one. Isn’t that crazy?”

Jungwon squinted at you. “You’re looking for Riki’s, aren’t you?”

You groaned, immediately dropping your head onto the table. “I’m pitiful. Don’t look at me.”

Jungwon laughed, dragging a chair out and sitting across from you. “You’re not pitiful. Just mildly down bad.”

You groaned, keeping your forehead against the table. “But I know he put something in there. I saw him! I was so ready to read it, but it’s like—poof!—nothing!”

Jungwon tapped his fingers on the table, thinking. “You sure he actually put something in the box?”

You lifted your head slightly. “Of course, I literally watched him sneak in.”

“Then…” Jungwon grinned knowingly. “What if he took something out?”

That made you pause. You sat up straight, eyes wide. “Wait… What?”

“Think about it,” Jungwon continued. “If he put in a confession and realized he wasn’t ready, maybe he took it back.”

Your mind raced. That… actually made sense. But why would Riki take it back? And more importantly—who was he confessing to?

The thought made your stomach twist, and you weren’t sure why.

Jungwon smirked, clearly enjoying the sight of you struggling. “You could just ask him, you know.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, right. ‘Hey, Riki! Weird question, but did you happen to steal a confession from my box?’”

“Why not?” Jungwon shrugged. “Or are you scared of the answer?”

You opened your mouth, ready to deny it, but the words never came. Were you scared? The idea of Riki confessing to someone else made your chest feel tight in a way you weren’t ready to unpack.

Before you could respond, the student council room door creaked open again.

And there he was.

Riki stood in the doorway, hands shoved into his pockets, his hair a little bit above his eyes which flickered between you and Jungwon before settling on you.

Jungwon raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of you. “Welp. That’s my cue to leave.” He patted your shoulder before slipping past Riki, whispering a quick, “Good luck,” on his way out.

The door clicked shut. Silence.

You swallowed. “Um… Did you need a book or—”

“I didn’t take it back.”

Your breath hitched.

Riki sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “The letter. I didn’t take it back.”

Your heart was pounding now. You tried to keep your voice steady. “What do you mean?”

His gaze dropped to the floor. “I put it in there without a doubt, I think… someone else removed it. Maybe it was a sign not to confess to you.”

You.

Your throat went dry. “It was… for me?”

Riki let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Obviously.”

You blinked. “Obviously? What do you mean obviously? You ignore me ninety percent of the time!”

He huffed, looking almost embarrassed. “I don’t ignore you.”

“You literally pretend not to hear me half the time!”

“Because I don’t know what to say!” Riki finally looked at you, frustration and something else—something softer—lingering in his expression. “You drive me crazy, you know that? You talk too much, you’re way too nosy, and you never leave things alone. And somehow, I—” He stopped, exhaling sharply. “I like you, okay?”

Your brain short-circuited.

Riki rolled his eyes at your stunned silence. “This is embarrassing.”

You snapped out of your trance. “Wait, wait. Back up. You like me?”

He groaned, turning toward the door. “Forget I said anything—”

You grabbed his sleeve before he could leave.

He froze.

Slowly, you grinned. “You like me.”

Riki’s ears were turning red. “Shut up.”

You laughed, warmth bubbling in your chest. You never thought you’d get anywhere with him, and yet—here he was, out of breath looking at you so fondly, confessing in the most Riki-like way possible.

February was definitely your favorite month of them all.

BONUS 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The moment Riki stepped into the library, he knew he was making a mistake.

This wasn’t his scene. He didn’t do books, didn’t do anything that required more effort than necessary. But here he was, standing in the one place he actively avoided, shoving his hands deeper into his hoodie pockets as his eyes flickered toward the back.

He could feel your gaze on him.

You were always watching him.

Not in a weird way—more like you were constantly trying to figure him out. Always with that curious glint in your eyes, like he was a puzzle you were determined to solve.

He hated it.

No, that wasn’t true. He hated that he liked it.

And now, as he made his way toward the confession box—the stupidest thing he’d ever been a part of—he was hoping you weren’t paying too much attention.

With one last glance around, he slipped to the back, pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket, and dropped it inside.

Then, without missing a beat, he walked out through the other side, playing it cool.

It took everything in him not to look back.

He could already picture the way your brain was short-circuiting, the way you were probably grabbing your phone to text Jungwon. You always told him everything, after all.

Riki swore under his breath as he left the library.

He wasn’t even sure why he did it.

Well.

That was a lie.

He knew why.

It was because of you.

Because you confused the hell out of him.

You were supposed to be annoying—loud, persistent, way too nosy for your own good. You were supposed to be someone he could easily brush off, like he did with everyone else.

But you weren’t.

Because no matter how many times he ignored your waves in the hallway, you still smiled at him. No matter how often he shut you out, you never stopped trying.

And then you stopped.

You finally gave up on him.

And for some reason, that made his chest feel too tight.

Ever since that night on the school trip, when he found you curled up alone in the shed, it had been harder and harder to act like he didn’t care.

That night, when he heard you were missing—it was like he could imagine you with red eyed, shoulders shaking—he couldn’t stop himself.

Didn’t even think.

He just ran.

Ran straight into the storm, through the rain, barely able to see a damn thing—but knowing exactly where he was going.

When he finally got there, when he saw you small and fragile under the dim light, something in him cracked.

He never wanted to see you like that again.

But he didn’t know how to tell you that.

He wasn’t good with words. He wasn’t good with feelings.

So he wrote it down instead.

It wasn’t a confession, not in the way you expected.

But it was something.

Something for your eyes only.

Something he thought you would have found by now.

So when he walked passed the student council room later that evening, seeing you and Jungwon hunched over the pile of notes, he knew immediately.

You hadn’t seen it.

Because if you had, you wouldn’t be looking for his name like he overheard.

And now, as both your heads snapped toward him, your eyes wide and startled—

Riki sighed, stepping forward.

…You took it, didn’t you? He thought looking straight at Jungwon.

Because if you didn’t find his letter in the box…

Then someone must have.

What was Jungwon playing at?

What happens next? Click (optional)

[strwberri-milk]

Could you please give headcanons on how LAD men would react if MC is non-jealous? Like they got hit on but MC isn't bothered or phased just stand there n watch the whole thing unfold (you can say Mc is amused at the attempt or smug about it cuz it shows that she had good taste in men) sry if my english is bad

im assuming that this is what youre referring too so ive put them both into one request lol

Zayne doesn't really mind it. He likes that you aren't jealous because he wants to be with someone who's secure in his relationship considering how late his hours are and how he can't be around as often as he would like to be. Knowing that you're more than fine with him focusing on work those days where he really has to focus and can't see you.

He doesn't get hit on too often because of the slightly chilly demeanor he has. People tend to leave him alone, especially with how obvious he makes it that you're dating him by the way he holds you. However, whenever people do try it he's glad that you don't mind it. He doesn't want you to think that he has eyes for anybody but you, even if a very very small part of him his curious to see what your protective side might be like when it comes to him.

When someone starts to insult you is when he starts shutting things down. He's telling them to stop saying things like that because there's no way he'd fall for their weak attempts at manipulation and will honestly start trying to walk away. If you stop minding your own business and start paying attention to him he'll try to guide you away to prevent you from hearing something nasty being said about you.

You gently shush him, smiling to yourself as you listen to the person rant at you. You know that Zayne doesn't want you to draw attention to the two of you so you let them complain before asking them if they think behaving like a child is really how you find a man that's as accomplished and sophisticated as Zayne. You don't really need to say much anyway because they can see how Zayne looks at them with a mild irritation for how they've interrupted your day before simply bidding them a goodbye. They're stuck trying to figure out how to reply to your words, forced to confront their childish actions.

If they decide to continue, following you around and shouting obscenities at you then you simply tell them that they look pathetic begging for him like this and that everybody around you is laughing at them. Public shame is a strong deterrent and they're forced to leave you alone. Zayne doesn't say anything but he does press a soft kiss to your cheek, not wanting to be too affectionate in public with how many eyes are on you but he's also very proud of how you can easily stand your ground.

Xavier likes knowing that he's yours but he also doesn't care too much for giant overt displays. He likes the subtle ways you show your his and he can show others that he's yours. It shows in the subtle way the two of you speak of how intertwined your lives are, just how casual the two of you are with each other. There's this implicit understanding that's shared between the two of you that just makes it seem like you two have been married for thirty years.

He doesn't mind that you aren't jealous over him but he also sometimes wants to see you being possessive over him. He likes seeing how your eyes flash and how you slide yourself next to him. You'll kiss his cheek and smile at him before asking who his new friend is. He typically doesn't entertain conversations with people who aren't you but he's much more subtle about it. People don't notice that he's not checked into the conversation until they suddenly realise he's quiet not because he's listening, but because he's fully just on his phone or started to leave when they looked away from him.

He doesn't get hit on often but when he does it's because people see him as an easy target. They think that he's chill and would be receptive to getting their number when it's totally the opposite. He doesn't even look at people who try to flirt with him, immediately pulling out his phone to text you to come find him faster because people are trying to get his number.

You show up quickly as soon as you hear them telling him how clearly, you don't care about him if you've just abandoned him like that. They're claiming that if you really loved him as much as he says he does then you wouldn't have left him alone like that. They start going on and on as you approach, tapping their shoulder as you gently push them aside to perch yourself on Xavier's lap. He doesn't expect it but he welcomes in anyway, happily returning the soft kiss you give him.

You totally ignore the person flirting with him, rolling your eyes as you tell them that Xavier hates it when people just prattle on and on about nothing like the way they're doing right now. You don't even let them get another word in as you tell him that you're tired and wanna go home now - your day was ruined by them and you didn't feel like staying out anymore.

He likes how you basically just totally shut them down without a second though, standing up with him and taking his hand. The two of you just fully ignore them, heading home as Xavier tells you he likes it when you do things like that.

Rafayel loves being obvious about how much he loves you. He's constantly hit on at parties and generally when he's in an okay mood he won't be as openly hostile about rejecting advances if Thomas begs him not to. He feels bad for the guy sometimes, knowing how difficult he can be to work with but not bad enough to actually be fully nice to everyone at events.

He wishes you were more openly jealous around him, recounting some stories specifically in hopes of getting a rise out of you. He doesn't want to like, actually hurt your feelings but he does want to see you pout and get a little clingy if possible. You know that that's his goal whenever he tells you about another socialite hitting on him and you entertain him by being dramatic in response, Rafayel lightly pouting at how you aren't taking him seriously but he also knows you're doing that because you love him.

When someone is genuinely trying to flirt with him and tells him that you aren't even rich or famous enough to be around him your first response is to just let him deal with it. He's very good at rejecting people but you feel bad when he meets your gaze from across the room, a pleading look on his face as he tries to convince you to come and rescue him. You decide to take pity on him and head over, trying to tell the socialite to back off. They just start to get in your face, telling you that you have no business acting the way you do, going off on you.

You just sigh and tell them that it doesn't matter how much they beg Rafayel doesn't like them and has personally told you himself how much he can't stand these parties because of people like them. You make it quite pointed that Rafayel hates these events and that if it were up to him, he wouldn't be here especially with them. Rafayel doesn't even need to say anything as he just stands behind you, arms around your waist as he just nods in agreement with your words, giving you a kiss as the other person finally gives up and fully leaves the party, embarrassed as everybody started staring at the argument that the two of you were having. The confident demeanor you have while Rafayel drapes himself off of you has everyone chuckling to themselves at how shameless the other party is, unfortunately staining their reputation as someone desperate to climb the social ladder.

Rafayel basks in the attention you showered him in and how hot he thinks it is that you made it so obvious you're his. You never left his side for the rest of the evening and he had fun introducing you to literally everyone. He'll ask you to do it more often if you can, totally obsessed with how you handled the situation so easily.

Sylus is pretty okay about the fact that you don't show any jealousy when he's flirted with. People are usually too scared of him to flirt with him anyway. Internally though, he also does want to see how you'd react when jealous. He doesn't do anything to trigger it but clearly, he doesn't really have to. Sometimes, he might make light jokes about how you don't get jealous because you know he has nothing on his mind but you. You don't have the heart to admit the fact that you know he's obsessed with you, but you also love knowing that he is. He makes it so obvious but he isn't even aware of how obvious he is about loving you, constantly spoiling you in every way.

He doesn't often attend events but he had to this one time, leading to people falling all over themselves to try and get his attention. You know that he can take care of himself but you also can't help the possessive streak that you feel at someone trying to take away something that's yours. He was having the time of his life /s avoiding everyone or making snide remarks as people try to steal his attention from you. You were trying to socialise with some people on his behalf, wanting to be friendly when you saw just how crowded he was with people trying to flirt with him.

His eyes follow you as you come to him, beginning to tell people off for acting so desperate around him. You remind them that Sylus chooses only the best and unfortunately for them, that so happens to be you. He doesn't say anything to you as you continue to tell people off, watching you with amusement in his eyes. You don't even feel his gaze as people weakly try to retaliate against your points, leading to you proving how wrapped around your finger you have him. He barely registers what's happening until he's delivering a plate of food to you, gazing at you with a soft expression that nobody's ever seen on him before. It makes it pretty clear that he won't ever see anybody that isn't you and shuts them up - if their egos aren't already decimated by how crude you were in calling out the desperate behaviour.

He'll tell you later as the two of you are getting ready for bed how flattered he was to have all of your attention on reminding people how much you love him. That overt display of affection is one he wants, obsessed with being shown in definitive ways just how much you love him.

[vinocean22]

20 Things Spanking Fetishists Have in Common

Sweet Tea

Spankos are soulmates. The fetish hardwires our hearts and minds in remarkably consistent ways that aren’t usually apparent to others, so it’s always a bit magical when we chat. “Holy shit, you get me.” I still find it shocking how much we have in common. Can you relate to this list?

1. We’ve been like this for a very long time.

“I’m a lifelong spanko.” This is common in our community and not all that surprising, as most fetishes are formed during childhood. The vast majority of spankos I’ve met have either been this way for as long as they can remember, or can pinpoint a specific age in childhood when they became preoccupied with thoughts of the act. I can’t personally remember any point in my life when spanking didn’t fascinate me and captivate my attention.

2. It’s not a choice.

For many people, spanking is a kink. They enjoy it and find it sexy, but don’t necessarily consider it a requirement for a good time. For those with the fetish, however, spanking is a need rather than an option. Some of us can appreciate and enjoy other BDSM-related activities like bondage or wax play or needles, but spanking is central to our sexuality. This thing lies at the core of our soul and we couldn’t get rid of it if we tried.

We looked up the word ‘spanking’ in the dictionary as kids, not once but multiple times. This also applied to related words like ‘paddle’, ‘switch’, ‘flog’, ‘discipline’, or ‘punish’. We knew their meanings, of course, but the act of reading the definitions was exciting—arousing, even—though we may have been too young to conceptualize the feeling as sexual. If we studied a foreign language, we sat in class and wondered in the back of our minds, “But what’s the word for ‘spanking’?”

(Is this common with other fetishes? Did foot fetishists look up the words ‘foot’, ‘high heel’, ‘stocking’, etc. at the library, bashfully looking around to make sure no one else would notice? I wonder…)

4. We have, uhhh, ‘issues’ with being around it.

Non-spankos can talk about spanking like it’s nothing, but that’s not the case for people with a fetish for it. We may turn bright red when the topic comes up in conversation or feel the need to leave the room when spankings happen in movies or TV shows. For some, this is because the idea triggers intense arousal, even more so than if straight-up intercourse were playing onscreen. For others, it’s simply too intimate and embarrassing to think about unless we’re by ourselves or discussing it in the context of a sexual encounter. When I was a kid and friends publicly proclaimed, “My mom spanked me yesterday!” I felt absolutely mortified. “How can anyone talk about THAT so casually?”

5. We think about it a looooooot.

Some researcher folks have claimed we all think about sex an average of 18-35 times a day. The fetishists I know think about spanking at least this often if not more, frequently daydreaming about the smacking of butts. A fetish is, by definition, a meticulous obsession. We live and breathe it, and never run out of things to say when chatting with other spankos. We want to meet people like us and TALK about it in detail, even if we never end up playing together. It’s our favorite means of connection.

6. Our fetish has caused us hardship.

“Do you feel like your fetish is a curse?” I’ve seen this asked quite a bit on spanko forums. Most of us had to navigate a number of challenges while growing up with this thing. We felt shame, embarrassment, and isolation after realizing how different we were, and may have worried we were crazy. Our relationships with non-spankos have likely been riddled with intimacy problems because we can’t relate to each other sexually. No matter how kinky or open-minded our partners are, they’re unlikely to understand us unless they have the fetish too. As a result, many spankos become pickier over time, ultimately refusing to date those outside of their orientation. “I’d rather be single than with someone I can’t share this with.” Until we find our people, it’s a lonely world.

7. Spanking takes priority over sex.

Every spanko I’ve ever met has put spanking at the forefront of the itinerary. It’s satisfying in its own right for a lot of folks, whether or not other sexy stuff occurs before or afterward. Some spankos identify as asexual, eschewing intercourse entirely because it doesn’t interest them in the same way discipline does. Others are extremely sexual people who focus on spanking as the main course or frequently indulge as an extended form of foreplay. This is an example of why we might experience difficulty finding balance with non-spanko partners. By the time they’re ready to move onto something else, we’re just getting in the zone.

8. It’s on our mind when we orgasm.

One of the first times I had sex with another spanko, I was blown away by the level of telepathy between us. I closed my eyes and fantasized as he licked my clit. He suddenly paused and smiled. “You’re thinking about having your pants pulled down, aren’t you?” I mean fuck, of course I was, but how did he know?! With a bit more experience in the community, I realized many if not all spankos think about it while they’re getting off. The moment thoughts of discipline enter my mind I’m aroused, but I cool off just as quickly if my focus is drawn elsewhere. If I didn’t think about spanking, I’m not sure I’d ever climax.

9. Most of us have tried switching at least once.

Some spankos like to give and receive in equal share, but many have a preference toward being spanker or spankee. I’ve noticed, though, that even the most stubborn of us who proclaim, “I don’t switch!” have tried a taste of the other side out of curiosity at some point. It makes sense to want to learn all angles of the equation. I’m in favor of the idea that everyone benefits from switching. Understanding what our partners experience makes us all better lovers.

10. We want spankings to feel as ‘real’ as possible.

Often, spankees want to cry. We want to be held down and ‘made’ to take it until our spanker is done, no matter what we say or do. This makes the experience feel more real, as if we’re truly being punished by an authority figure and have no choice in the matter. Once trust has been established, some spankees will afford their partners blanket consent and opt not to use safewords. (I don’t recommend this route with anyone you wouldn’t trust with your life. There are oodles of legitimately fucked up people out there masking their abusive tendencies as BDSM. Vet your spankers well, ladies and gents.) This all exists to enhance the pleasure of the fantasy, but isn’t an invitation to violate limits. We want our spankers to be perceptive, taking us just far enough to inspire tears and provide release, but not so far as to genuinely break or traumatize us. Finding this balance is an art form that requires empathy, intelligence, communication, and skill.

11. We all have our preferences.

What implements do you like? What are your favorite positions? What kinds of spankings are your favorite to give? Bruises or no bruises? How long do you like to go for? What kinds of behavior would earn a spanking from you? These are the sexy deets we discuss when we chat, and our answers say a lot about our personalities. It’s rare for a spanko not to have feelings about such things. More often than not, we have specific reasons for liking what we like.

12. We enjoy associated activities.

To state the obvious: spankos love butts. LOOOOOOOOVE them. Naturally, we tend to enjoy other ass-focused activities in conjunction with spanking, like anal play, doggy-style sex, enemas, thermometers, and between-the-cheeks ‘inspections’. Many of us also dig other punishment-related activities traditionally associated with spanking, like corner time or writing lines. “I will not behave like such a sassy little brat. I will not behave like such a sassy little brat…”

13. For us, spanking is its own category.

I’ve noticed a desire in the spanko community to distinguish what we like from the greater umbrella of BDSM. Clearly, spanking incorporates elements of discipline, D/s, and sadomasochism. However, what most of us mean when we mention our fetish is far more specific. We’re not talking whips, dungeons, or shibari. We’re talking traditional, domestic bare-bottom OTK punishment with hands, paddles, belts, wooden spoons, bath brushes, and other goodies found in the home. It’s a comforting, parental, for-your-own-good type of vibe wherein we call our partners Mommy, Daddy, or other titles that convey nurturing familiarity. Very different than, say, having a cold ‘master-slave’ dynamic in a relationship, which tends to be a bit too much for our taste.

14. We love every stage of the process.

A non-spanko might solely imagine the physical slapping of cheeks when we refer to our love of spanking, but that's not the long and short of the matter. Spankos adore the entire arc of the narrative. The misbehavior that led to the spanking. The threats and anticipation. Getting into position. The warm-up and removal of each layer of clothing, all the way until the spankee’s bottom is bared. The swats, first with hands, then a variety of implements. The communication surrounding lecturing and admonishment. The catharsis of tears. The slow tenderness and beauty of aftercare. The closeness the ritual inspires. The intimate drama of this entire process is deeply satisfying.

15. We distinguish between different kinds of spankings.

What is the purpose of the spanking being given? Punishment? Maintenance? Stress relief? Eroticism? This detail is important to us, for it influences the style in which the spanker spanks. Sexual spankings often involve caressing of nether-regions and start off somewhat softly, building in strength at a comfortable pace throughout a drawn-out warm-up period. Punishment spankings embody an entirely different space. They are meant to be intense, painful, and challenging to endure.

16. We watch a lot of the same porn.

My closest spanko friends and I send each other links to videos every so often. “Have you seen this one?” A lot of the time the answer is yes, for we’re drawn to the same spankers, spankees, and couples who create our favorite content. Spanking vids with a glitzier, more porny atmosphere tend to be lower on the ladder than amateur, traditionally domestic ones. Again, we want it all to feel as real as possible. The “we shot this at home while punishing actual misbehavior” setup provides more satisfaction.

17. We don’t usually watch our porn with non-spankos.

Back when I used to date vanilla and guys would ask, “What kind of porn do you watch?” I would lie and pretend porn wasn’t my thing. This is because I knew that what I watch would likely bore them. A clip with fifteen straight minutes of nothing but spanking, sans sex, would likely make a lot of people’s eyes roll back into their sockets. “So monotonous!” Once I started dating spankos, however, I found much joy in sharing, knowing we could relish each and every moment together.

18. We all want a house out in the boonies.

Ask a spanko about their goals for the future and many will answer, “I want to buy land.” This is because our activity of choice is LOUD and has the potential to disturb nearby neighbors. Nothing ruins a good time like a visit from the fuzz. The begging, screaming, and crying… they are cleansing to our souls and we wish to do them freely. It’s countryside living for us, boy howdy.

19. We’re very romantic people.

It comes as no surprise that many spankos are traditionalists. We often relish old-timey acts of devotion like marriage, opening doors, buying flowers, and cooking for our partners. Many are monogamous and like to wait to have sex until deep bonds of commitment are set in stone. Spanking is an extension of this attitude toward intimacy. We’re so deeply devoted to our partners that we refuse to turn our backs on their misbehavior, laziness, procrastination, or feelings of guilt. Instead we stay, face them, and do what must be done to help them deal with their problems, following up with plenty of aftercare involving sweetness and reassurance. Squeeee.

20. We speak the same love language.

For partners with a consensual domestic discipline dynamic, spanking is an act of love. It’s an intimate ritual centering on a potent giving and receiving of attention. A means of setting aside time to converse and communicate about the challenges of relationships and everyday affairs. A tool for strengthening the bond and balancing the energy between spanker and spankee. A way of helping one another feel “right” and “natural” in a world that so often feels like it’s tumbling off its axis. In nonconsensual or manipulative contexts, spanking is abuse. Between those of us who crave it from one other, it’s the highest form of affection.

Granted, these are solely my thoughts based on my own observations and experiences.

Anything to add, spankos?

Reach out, I'd love to hear you : https://www.the-rose-moon.com/post/20-things-spanking-fetishists-have-in-common

[kisssukuna33]

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always have you over at his house the night before an important match. It helps with the stress he says.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always put on a TV show before you two settle into the couch for cuddles. Usually the cuddling session is a mix of him relaxing against you as you ask him questions about the match tomorrow.

"You packed an extra pair of shorts this time right? Remember what happened last time"

"yeah I did"

"Did you iron the clothes?"

"Uraume took care of it"

"That new protein shake your nutritionist recommend, Did you take it?"

"Already did"

"What about the snacks during the game tomorrow? did Uraume-

"oh my god baby relax, it's all taken care of"

He says in somewhat of an annoyed tone as he pulls you even closer to his chest, tightening his grip around you. But deep down he loves it when you are concerned about him like this.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who insists that having a good time before the match tomorrow isn't a problem to him but you reject the offer firmly because you know how Sukuna gets whenever you two started something.

It always ends up dragging for hours so no, your bf needs his beauty sleep for tomorrow.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who pouts slightly when you say no to him but decides to settle with the short make out session instead, better than nothing he thinks.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who teasingly steals few touches from your sensitive areas, clearly trying to rile you up but stops after seeing the glare you gave him.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who never seems to be the type to get much nervous before matches. Because of his Overconfidence? His never ending Ego? maybe. But his ability to stand strong in situations like this always makes your heart flutter.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always makes sure you get the best VIP seat to his match, You always need to be in the front lines where he can see you from clearly when he beat up his opponent back to his ancestors.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always find a way to bring you up in the Media press. Sukuna is widely known by the audience for being a down bad "simp" for his girlfriend as well as a complete disaster for his opponents.

"Mr Ryomen, Do you know there's a whole talk in the internet about you being a simp for your girlfriend? What do you have to say to people who spread things like that?"

"Keep spreading the truth I guess. The internet definitely needs it more"

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who hurries back to his changing room and jumps straight into your arms. Despite your constant nagging for him to get patched up first.

"Baby did you saw the jab-cross I threw before he hit the ground?"

"Yeah it was Amazing Ryo!"

"I did good than the last match, didn't I?"

"Yeah you always do"

"Then I deserve way more than that cheap kiss you gave me earlier don't I?"

"Get patched up first you freak, Uraume's waiting"

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who lets you both into his house as he holds your waist with one arm. He let go of your waist as he makes his way for the bathroom while murmuring something about showering first.

As he started to shower you turn on the tv with the intention of seeing the live match you saw today in the digital screen. And it immediately cuts to a interview Sukuna did just right after winning.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who seems enthusiastic as ever talking to the reporters about the match he did and the opponent he beat. Not long after he adds a little appreciation from his part.

"My manager Uraume helped me with a lot of stuff so I truly appreciate them. Also my girlfriend stayed up beside me every night when I practiced and supported me in everything, this win is hers as much as it is mine."

"if you're watching this I love you baby"

A warm feeling start to take over your chest as you hear his words. The man who's appreciated and idolized by millions saying these things so casually to you, you still can't get your mind around it.

Then the reporter use his luck to ask a risky question one more time.

"it's look like you two have a great relationship together, what do you think about marriage Mr Ryomen?"

To that question Sukuna doesn't respond but instead returns a well knowing little grin as he waves off the interview.

"Tch why did they ruin the moment by asking that, now it looks like he doesn't want to marry me" you said to yourself.

Just as you were about to leave to the kitchen to grab a snack, something shining inside the closet that Sukuna forgot to shut earlier catches your eyes.

Hidden by the cloth piles it was a little jewelry box that had familiar initials on top of it.

It was none other than yours and Sukuna's.

Wait..

No that can't be, Yeah maybe this is the earrings he wanted to give you before.

But much to your surprise the box opened up to reveal a gorgeous wedding ring. A big diamond you sure costed atleast 5 six figures alone sitting on top of it. Inside the ring you and Sukuna's initials were carved into it making it seem even more special to your eyes.

Your heart is jumping from excitement and happiness, everything about your life is starting to get better and better and you can't help but thank Sukuna for it.

You don't want to ruin the surprise he planned for you of course. So you put the box back to it's place and sit on the bed till he's done showering patiently but the stupid smile you had since earlier didn't left your face for once.

"Alright I'm done showering let's slee- what's with you?"

"What's with me? nothing Ryo"

"You're are smiling very creepily woman"

"Ryo that's mean! My smile is not creepy!"

"Yeah whatever come here, freak"

Sukuna says as he drags you closer to his side of the bed while turning off the bedside lamp at the same time. Your bodies intertwine with each other like it was always meant to be. Sukuna's hands wrapping around you as he buries his face into your neck.

"Ryo?"

"hmm"

"I love you"

You can feel a small smile tugging at his lips.

"I love you too princess, more than anything"

Boxing Kuna is my favorite <33

No grammar checks though sorry :/

[angelltheninth]

When Arcane Men Get Jealous

Pairing: Viktor, Jayce, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Finn, Marcus, Loris, Steb x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, jealousy, possessive behavior, being protective, kissing in public, biting, holding hands, public display of affection, canon typical violence, suggestive

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Would die if they were jealous over me. Melt into a puddle. Gone.

When Viktor gets jealous he gets a bit more withdrawn than he usually is. Not that he was ever a social butterfly, however he was always more open and happy to talk when it was with you. So his behavior is odd, he even seems to get quieter whenever you walk into the room. Like he's trying to remove himself from you with silence.

"I am not avoiding you. Look, there has been a lot to do for the past week, I'm sorry if you got a bad impression but I was simply busy. If you want more company, go ask Jayce, or Skye, I'm sure they will be more than happy to entertain you, darling."

Viktor is short with his answers, saying as little as possible to minimize the amount of time he spends talking to you. Not because he doesn't want to talk to you, he loves talking to you, but if he keeps talking there's a chance he might say something he's going to regret. And end up hurting you.

"There you go again with these ridiculous accusations. You won't leave it alone will you? So now it's my fault that your project is running late? I would have been happy to help but someone was too busy talking with... you know what, nevermind. You're right, we both have a lot to do, so let's just drop this conversation and focus on work."

If you keep getting in the way of his work, Viktor will eventually come to a breaking point. Him not being able to work is only adding to his emotions, and he's never been the best at dealing with them. While he doesn't exactly yell at you, it's very rare that he ever raises his voice there's a notable frustration in his words, and pain, fear that you'd leave.

"If I'm being so unreasonable then leave. Go. Have fun. I know it's not idea to be cooped up in the lab all the time. There are so many more things to do out there. if you... want to go with other people I suppose I can't stop you, nor can I stop my own jealousy. How am I being even more unreasonable? I know you wouldn't leave me without talking about it. Look... I do not... want you to leave, working is more fun with you. But am I truly all that you want? Me? This lab? Because you're all I want. All that I can think of."

When Jayce gets jealous he keeps invading your personal space when you're around the person or people he's jealous of. His behavior is nothing innapropriate or pushy. It's just his arm around your waist, just him bringing you that drink you wanted, just him bragging about you a bit too loud and saying how much he loves you.

"You really are great, babe. How in Runterra did I ever find a beauty like you huh? What's that bashfulness for now, I always praise you, and I'm never gonna stop. You're my girl right? I can be a proud boyfriend and talk you up every once in a while."

Physical affection a big deal to Jayce and a way he shows he cares but also a giveaway to his jealousy. He holds your hand longer, his eyes flicker between you and the one he's jealous off, his smile is a bit more nervous when he has to leave you alone. Then there are his kisses, not as gentle, not a little, quick peck on the edge of your lips but a real kiss, lips pressed against yours until you let him know you need air.

"Got a bit carried away there. Ah, sorry, I can't resist you sometimes. All the time. Do you expect me to when you wear lipstick like that? Makes your lips look like they're made to be kissed. By me specifically. I'd kiss you all night long, for the rest of our lives and never get tired of it."

Jayce keeps denying that he's jealous when you bring it up in a teasing way. Logically there's no reason to get jealous, everyone knows your relationship is doing great, in fact you're hardly ever fighting and even when you are it doesn't last too long. How does he turn that part of his brain off? How can he not get jealous when all those people look at you the way he looks at you?

"They're always looking at you. How can you not notice? It's so obvious. You don't notice because... you're only looking at me? That doesn't even make sense! Of course they're looking, you're breathtaking everywhere you go. I just hope that wherever you go, you'll always take me with you, because I want to be by your side forever."

Ekko often jokes about being jealous so you don't pick up on him actually being jealous. A little jealousy is fine but not when it's getting in the way of his missions and operations with his team. He'd been a bit distracted in the past, by one of the Firelights flying too close to you, so he pushed his way between you two.

"It was the formation! Which you would have remembered if you weren't too busy chatting. Come on, Firefly, get your head in this. Otherwise you're gonna make your leader jealous. Wouldn't want that right? What if... what if you get demoted for it? Hey! Ow! I wouldn't demote you, who would listen to all my plans?"

When you have free time together Ekko makes sure to spend as much time with you as possible. If you're together all the time there's less chance that someone else will swoop in and flirt with you. He would never describe his behavior as being clingy, all he wants is to spend free time with his girlfriend. That is perfectly normal behavior.

"What do you say we go out to get some food? We don't have to spend all our time here. Not like the tree is gonna burn down if we're away for a couple of hours right? Besides it's been a while since it was just you and me all alone. Miss being alone with you. Don't you miss it too?"

If the person he's jealous of ever puts you in danger in any way Ekko will go off on them. Harder than he scolded others in the past. He might let some of his jealousy show then, but he storms off, well flies off before you can talk to him. As much as he wants to be alone he also makes room for you on his hoverboard when you float down next to him.

"Shouldn't have went off on them like that. I know, you don't gotta say it, I'll say I'm sorry. Let cool off a bit. You'd think that if they were flirting with you that much they could have been looking out a bit better. I'm always looking out for you. Maybe a bit too much. Sorry if I've been weird about it lately. Would you forgive me if I took you on a romantic hoverboard ride?"

No one wants to piss off a big man like Vander by flirting with his wife. Everyone values their life and their bones too much. But... they stare at you. Quite openly actually. You see it, and you bet he sees it too. He sees everything that's happening at his bar and he won't stand for someone ogling his wife, even if he has to get aggressive about it.

"It's my damn bar, I've got the right to break the table with their heads when they're looking at ya like that. Tell ya what, a lot more people would avoid this place if I started beating up every asshole that looks at ya wrong. Only reason I don't is cause I don't want ya to be mad at me after."

He hasn't banned anyone from his bar in a very long time. Vander knows he tolerates a lot, this is Zaun, and some people don't have the best manners, that's not exactly their fault. But on the other hand if they start something with him then he will finish it. When he tells them to stop looking at you like you like you were one of Babette's workers and they get in his face he will pick them up and throw them out.

"Bastards had it coming. I tried to be nice, then they had to go and call ya names. Ain't no way in hell I'm gonna let anyone insult my wife. Not here, not on the streets, not anywhere. I went there and I wanted to talk to them, tell them to fuck the hell off, they were the ones who started getting violent. So I responded in kind."

Vander calls you over to the bar a bit more often if he sees a particular table is trying to monopolize you. He carries some of the drinks over, the food plates too, or he simply walks up behind you when one of the guys is getting flirty. Seeing his imposing, huge frame behind you, his muscles bulging, is enough to get most to back off you.

"See, darlin', I can talk things out just fine. When people are being smart about it that is. Might have to stop selling so much booze in this place, then they won't be so bold with ya. Ya are a pretty sight, I can't say otherwise. But ya are a pretty sight for me, not them, ain't that right? Mhm. I know, I'm all yer's too."

Silco never ever says he's jealous of anyone. He is the most powerful man in all of Zaun, everyone is scared of him and with good reason. As the Eye of Zaun he knows when people are looking, talking too, and might even try to touch you. Those people are often payed a not so nice visit by his men.

"I did hear about that gang, yes. It's very unfortunate that they don't know how to keep their noses where they don't belong. It's not that big of a loss on our end. There are a hundred people who can do their work, and better. All that matters is that they won't even have to think about not touching you again."

He rarely has to get his own hands dirty when he gets jealous. All it takes is him saying who the target or targets are and he makes them dissapear from Zaun. That doesn't always have to be deadly, but if they're really dumb it is. If Silco feels that you're in some kind of danger then he will keep you close by. He tries to distract you from seeing he's jealous.

"All I'm saying is that we could take a break from work. Sevika and Jinx can handle a week of it. And you and me can lock ourselves up in our home and not come out. The bedroom works perfectly fine too, if you'd rather spend our time in there. And what is it that I'm doing, darling? Jealous? You are an observant one. I wouldn't want you any other way."

The only time Silco will threaten someone in person is if that someone is bold enough to flirt with you in front of them. He can scare people within an inch of their life just by talking to them, he's not just a good businessman, and some people tend to forget that. He has Zaun in the palm of his hand, and everyone in it.

"He did not actually piss himself. Did he actually. Hm, I wasn't look at him anymore to be honest. He was spineless, surprising given he talked to you like he did. Guess he was thinking with his other head a bit too much for his own good. Why are you looking at me that way? Ah, I see. Looks like someone enjoyed watching me put a scumbag into his place a bit too much."

Since Finn isn't someone who would take anything lying down he will be damned before he sees someone coming onto his woman and not do anything about it. He might have a certain charm about him but that doesn't mean he's not ready to makes heads roll the moment when someone crosses any kind of line with you. Imaginary or otherwise.

"Hah, did you see that doll? As soon as I threw one punch he went down. All his buddies ran like rats. Left him all alone there. After all that tough talk and he couldn't even defend himself. Serves him right. He's lucky all I did was break his nose when he flirted with you. I wasn't even that far away."

Finn will make out with you in front of who ever he is jealous of just to prove a point to them. And while he has you moaning, has your head buried against his neck and your body running hot he will look at the other person and stick his tongue out at them, right before making a V with his fingers and putting his tongue between them. He's vulgar but it gets the point across very well.

"All these people looking at what's mine. Now, I can't have that right? I love that you're showing off your body, it's a great body, you know how much I love it. But sometimes I want to keep you away from prying eyes. And if I can't the least I can do is give them a show. Make them know I'm the only one who can touch you."

His jacket is a signature part of his outfit, but Finn will let you wear it. Hell, he will walk over and drape it over your shoulders while not even looking at whoever you're talking to. Sometimes they're not worth looking at when he can look at the pretty way you blush as you touch his hand that's lingering on your shoulder.

"Thought you looked a bit cold there. Keep this on all night. Later on I'll help you warm up my way, a much more fun way. Don't even worry about your perfume getting all into this, love having your scent all over me. And by tomorrow you're gonna be wearing all of my marks."

There are a lot of people in the Enforcers who tease Marcus about having such a pretty wife. He knows you're pretty, but he doesn't like that the department is noticing it so much as well. Not that there's any way for him to hide it, or that he wants you to hide it, that would be a real crime.

"I was not pouting. That is so childish. I was glaring at them. Well, they were the ones who stared first. You visit me at work, like that's such a big deal. We're married, honey, I pick you up from work too. Why is it such a big deal here? I think they're just trying to get a rise out of me."

Won't deny that he's feeling jealous or shy away from showing it. When Marcus notices any of his men flirting with you he makes them work extra hard that day, he gives them more paperwork, something that everyone hates there, or assigns them to the toughest jobs that he knows will take them days to complete. He can't help but chuckle when you visit again and they're too tired to flirt with you, they just say hello.

"What do you mean I'm picking on them? Of course not. You know how hard it is to deal with all these extra cases. Someone has to take on a few more. No, the fact that it's the same Enforcers who gave you flowers that one time has nothing to do with it. You think it does? And do you have evidence of this accusation?"

Marcus isn't shy about kissing you in front of the whole department. If that's what it takes to send them all a clear message to back off. It's always perfectly chaste kisses, but he does make sure that everyone hears him say he loves you when you leave. He smirks when eyes turn to him and he wishes them all a good rest of their day.

"Now you call me petty. All of these accusations and you still don't have any evidence. That's not a very good way to have a case. You've been keeping count have you? Oh. You... actually have been keeping count? I'm guilty? Fine, you got me, you got me. Maybe... that was a little petty of me, but I'm not sorry."

Every time Loris is jealous it's almost impossible for him to hide that fact. He's a big guy, nothing about him is easy to his, not even his emotions. And he's loud, so every time he huffs, mumbles something, or grunts you hear it. Your eyes meet and he looks away, his hand grasping yours and running his thumb over the back of your hand.

'They were staring at you a bit too much for my liking, pretty girl. If they were as tough as they pretend they were they should have held their ground more. Proves they were all bark and no bite. People like that really get on my nerves, and then they talk to my girl like she's single."

Loris invites you to have lunch with him quite often, even more often when he gets jealous of someone who works with him. Dealing with them in any other way would be unprofessional of him, and might get him in trouble. This way he gets to avoid that, avoid them, and spend a nice lunch date with you. No matter how you look at it he's the real winner here.

"Looks so good. But if you keep looking at me like that I might get hungry for something else besides the food. Just try shifting the blame on me when you know exactly how you're looking at me right now. I wouldn't risk it at work, but... if you showed up with a few hickeys on your neck it might get the rest of the department to stop flirting with you."

As much as he tries to make his jealousy go away it's not easy. Loris knows he should be an example for others, after all he had been an Enforcer for a long time, he can't just let his emotions get the better of him. Hard to keep those emotions down when they concern you. If nothing else works he will intimidate people. Easy enough for him. But he would rather that be a last resort.

"If he wasn't ready to throw fists and words at me then he shouldn't have thrown flirty words at you. He should be able to back himself up if he's gonna be saying stuff like that. All I did was pick him up and throw him outside. Hey, I might get in a bit of trouble for it, but at least he'll leave you alone from now on. I'd risk my badge for you if I have to, you know that."

Since he is the quiet type Steb shows his emotions and jealousy is one that he works hard to surpress. Every time he notices that someone is standing a little too close to you he walks over and looks at you, lovingly, then he looks at the other person with a glare, a deadly one. All the while he's standing shoulder to shoulder with you.

"Come now, angelfish, they weren't even worth your time. We both know they only had one thing in mind when they were talking to you. I could see it in their eyes. I don't appreciate that they looked at you like that. And I know you don't either. So I felt like I had to step in."

He is very physical with his jealousy. Steb lets his eyes and touches linger a few moments longer when he wants to make a point to someone. While he knows you don't hate it he also doesn't want to come off as too jealous or too possessive over you. You can take care of yourself and he loves that about you, he's watched you put people in their place often, but there are times where he can't hold himself back.

"I could feel your fingers interlocking with mine. You wanted me to stand close to you when they weren't leaving you alone. Would you have raised your voice if I hadn't walked over? It would be amusing to see it. But I think those kisses we shared also sent an equally powerful message. You didn't have to bit me though."

Steb nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck when he's feeling really, really jealous of someone. He makes it look less possessive than it is, pretending like he's overhearing something you have to say, and then pushing himself just a little bit closer. His cold lips make contact with your neck, sending shivers down your body before he brushes your lips with his thumb and leaves with a smirk.

"That ought to be enough. I could have done more but marking you in public might have been a step too far. We can enjoy things like that in private however. I enjoy being close to you in any context, and if it makes others realize you're not looking for anyone because you've already got a man then I enjoy it even more."

[spentgladiator]

I love Valentine's Day. I'm a server, and have been for many years, so I get a peep into many different relationships and the thing about Valentine's Day in particular is.

Couples that dont go out together anymore, don't spend time together anymore and don't really like each other any more still go out on Vday because of the obligation (she needs to be able to tell the girls he took her to a nice dinner to keep up the facade of a happy marriage, he needs to say he did something or else the cute girl at the office who asks what he and his wife did might think he's an asshole) and those are the couple's you can spot a mile away.

They're usually in the 40-60 range but not always, when the kids are young they can feasibly get away with not doing something because they can't find a babysitter or equal excuse, so the kids are grown enough to have one stay home and mind the others. The body language will be stiff, rigid and deeply uncomfortable, as though they are sat across from some kind of creature or perhaps a beast. One or both will likely be looking at their phone a lot more than you would expect a couple at a romantic dinner. The conversation will be sparse, unemotional, very logistics based rather than anything intimate or emotional. They'll be "dressed up" like a business meeting, nothing sexy or fun and the vibes within fifteen feet of that table will be RANCID.

Any other night of the year and these people would be holed up on opposite ends of the house keeping themselves occupied, maybe she's out with some friends and he's practicing his golf swing on a simulation somewhere idk what straight men do honestly. They are strangers to each other, worse yet, strangers with BAGGAGE. they will both be totally impervious to your charm and attempts at being friendly and warm to lighten the mood, (alternatively, she will cling to you like a life vest as a source of any positive interaction, her eyes screaming 'please can I just hang out with you instead')

You wonder if you even need to put ice in their drinks cause with how cold they both are it's likely the drink would freeze in their hand anyway.

As for how these two make it through other special occasions - other people. Think about it.... Christmas brings children and relatives and friends, birthdays, Holidays, they never have to spend that time alone together. Valentine's Day stands out as a time when just the two of them HAVE to do something, lest they admit to themselves and each other that the love between them had died long ago.

This couple is not special. I see a few of them every Vday, you just have to try your luck if you wanna spot them. I recommend hopping, drinks and appys at one spot, main course at one spot, dessert at another to maximize your chances at spotting one. Just make sure you call ahead and book your tables!

[ghostlythinglady]

Been rereading CSM lately and I'm starting to notice a pattern here. Some of the people who have caused the most pain aren't the ones that despise Denji, but the ones that idealize Chainsaw Man. Makima and Barem both describe themselves as Chainsaw fans and were ultimately willing to kill Denji's loved ones if it meant they could bring Pochita back, without much consideration for the well being of Denji or the people they were killing as long as their larger goals were realized. Fumiko is obsessed with him to the point that she doesn't seem to even think of him as a person. Stalking him, molesting him and at one point even asking if she can collect his hair when Denji gets dismembered. Yuko went on a killing spree because she saw Chainsaw Man as a paragon and wanted to emulate him in her own twisted way and lashes out when he doesn't approve of her actions

Haruka was jealous Chainsaw Man's popularity to the point he impersonated him for his own gain, with little thought put towards how this would affect the real Chainsaw Man or what to do if he got caught. The Chainsaw Church treat's the image of Chainsaw Man as a messiah figure to be worshiped only to replace him with an imposter once the real one doesn't live up to their expectations. You could even extend this to characters like Katana Man and Yoru. Both are people who have built up Chainsaw Man as a nemesis figure to the point that there willing to toss everyone close under the bus if it means they get to be the ones to kill him. By contrast, many of the people Denji has the most positive or at least neutral relationships with are all people that hated and/or tried to murder him the first time they met. Aki, Power, Asa, Kobeni, Kishibe. I feel like the author is trying to make some larger point about parasocial relationships and the dehumanizing effect of fame.

[pshbites]

FOOLS ━ pjs

pairing : bsf!jay x fem!reader genre : friends to lovers, pure FLUFF!! warnings : none but erm not proofread! synopsis : 2 fools in love, who have no idea the other wants them wc : 1k a/n : yes this is inspo off of fool by nct 127, i love naming things after songs #sorry

if u enjoyed pls like & reblog, feedback is always appreciated!!

“would you just shut up” jake groaned out, glancing over at jay once more. ever since jay admitted he had a crush on you, his best friend, he’s been insufferable according to his friends. jay furrowed his brows, “what! i’m not even talking about her” he groaned out, making sunghoon scoff in amusement. “you mentioned that place that you want to take her to, like five times.” he sighed out, picking at his lunch in front of him. 

the history between you and jay wasn’t exactly.. ideal. the two of you had been friends since you were 12 years old and encountered many things together such as the time your braces got caught on a loose thread in jays shirt, or the time jay fell off his bike because he wanted to prove to you he could do a wheelie. all in all you two had stuck with each other through everything, including your relationships. 

jay never admitted it but he had developed a crush on you towards the beginning of college, that stupid saying that people really change in college or something was deemed to be true. he started getting annoyed by the encounters you would tell him about, wondering why you let stupid boys treat you like that when he was right in front of you. he thought he wasn’t obvious about it but when he finally told jake and sunghoon about having a crush on you, the two of them acted like it was a normal tuesday. 

“okay i did not say it five times” jay rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair and jake and sunghoon gave each other a look, both of them sighing. “yeah man whatever” jake mumbled, making jay roll his eyes once more. he looked around the dining hall and his eyes landed on you, sitting with your two friends telling them something dramatically. you were talking with your hands again, which made jay smile. he loved when you did that it was so cute. if only he knew what you were talking about so passionately.. 

“honestly my theory is that he’s as equally obsessed with you as you are him” karina shrugged, popping one of winters fries in her mouth, making her slap her hand away. “that’s not possible” you sighed out, leaning back in your chair now. “yeah well..” as karina spoke, you looked in his direction, thoughts clouding your mind. you always had a small thing for jay ever since you were little but it was embarrassing to admit. those feelings halted when jay started getting in relationships which made you get into relationships to get his attention, but it never worked. 

now here you were, in your second year of college still pining for the boy you wanted when you were 13. “yn? are you paying attention.” karina waved her hand in front of your face, snapping you out of it. winter looked towards jay then you and laughed slightly. “she was too busy making oogly eyes at him” she said, making you slap her hand. karina groaned out. “it was not oogly eyes!” you retorted, rolling your eyes at winter. 

“there’s actually no hope for the two of you” winter sighed out as you three got up, going to put your plates away. “he doesn’t like me back, i’ll get over it” you sighed out, placing your place in the box and following karina and winter. “you’ve been saying that for years but okay yn” karina shook her head, laughing softly. as the three of you walked out of the dining hall you saw jake, jay, and sunghoon standing there. 

of course jake started up a conversation, now the six of you were walking as a group with you and jay lagging behind. it was quiet between you and jay, only the crunching of the leaves could be heard. jay glanced at you, smiling softly at the way you stepped over the leaves so you could hear the crunch of them. you had always loved doing that even when you were younger.

it hits jay now that he knows you, more than you may know yourself. because of him knowing you so well, that's why he fell for you in the first place. you were like a breath of fresh air to him, you always knew how to talk to him and make him smile, you also knew him inside and out and jay knew this.

but you were almost too good for him, after all you were a goddess in jays eyes and he was just a fool. what could he do? he knew confessing to you was a gamble because it could change the entire trajectory of your relationship, for the better or the worse. jay snapped out of his thoughts and cleared his throat.

“so.. what were you guys talking about? you kept moving your hands around dramatically” jay laughed a little as he finished the sentence, you rolled your eyes and elbowed him playfully. “none of your business” you mumbled back, making jay smile. 

he looked to you and smiled at your softly flushed cheeks, the way your nose was pink because of the fall breeze. “you wanna go to the diner tonight?” you looked to him, smile clear on your face. “i thought you were busy tonight?” he thought about it for a second then shook his head. “not anymore” he smiled softly. “okay, i’ll ask winter and rina.” you said and jay furrowed his brows. he hesitated before speaking. “no like, just us” he said, sounding a little uncertain. 

now was the moment, jay thought. the moment he had been waiting for, for ten years now. he knew you wouldn't want a really fancy date, so instead he opted for something a bit more you, something you were comfortable with. after all, everything he did was for you, and only you. so here it goes.

“no like, just us” he said, sounding a little uncertain.

you fully stopped walking causing jay to stop walking as well, forgetting about the group in front of you. “are you asking me out on a date park jongseong?” you furrowed your brows, looking in his eyes for an answer. there was no way he felt the same. “i.. uh you know if you want it to be?” he stuttered out, shoving his hands in his pockets. you smiled at his nervousness, the way he tried to act all cool about. “okay, are you paying? because you know a real gentleman pays.” you said playfully, the two of you resuming walking again. 

“is that even a question? of course yn” he sighed out, a little less nervous now. “well then yes, i’d love to go out with you jay” you smiled, looking at him. he smiled as well, the blush on his cheeks evident. “c'mon lovebirds! let’s go!” jake called out, his voice a little far in the distance. you giggled softly, making jay softly elbow you. karina’s theory was more than right.

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© all rights to pshbites 2025. please do not copy, translate or repost my works

[lovecla]

FAVORITE KIND OF NIGHT ; HUGHES, SLAFKOVSKÝ

PAIR jack hughes x fem!reader, quinn hughes x fem!reader, juraj slafkovský x fem!reader, ex-cole caufield x fem!reader

SUMMARY when you found out your boyfriend of two years had been cheating on you the entire time, you do what every girl does when they get cheated on: you fuck his best friends.

WORD COUNT 5,5k

WARNINGS taboo content, cheating, foursome (f/m/m/m), p in v, unprotected sex, degradation, mention of stomach bulge, creampie, double p in v, rough sex, manhandling, dirty talk, humiliation, subspace, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), gagging, dacryphilia, brief aftercare.

FROM ME TO YOU my loves, listen to your clara very carefully: if you do not agree with ANY of what’s written here, please consider not reading. this is just a silly idea i had a few days ago and i wanted to write about it. i have zero intentions of offending anyone: this is pure fiction! none of this is real! anyways, thank you @cyberhughes for listening to my naughty thoughts about this plot and for having my back. love you juni baby, this one’s for you <3 and for those who are still here, have a nice reading!

𖧷

on that lonely night, said it wouldn't be love

but we felt the rush (fell in love)

it made us believe it was only us

THE THING about being a hockey girlfriend is that you will, most certainly, get cheated on.

When you first heard that, you thought it was just bullshit— not all men are the same and all of that. Some people were just unfortunate to have shitty boyfriends, but not you.

Or at least that’s what you thought before watching a viral video of your boyfriend of two years kissing three different girls at a party.

The video was blurry, and maybe if you were a little bit more naive, you wouldn’t have noticed that the man eating those girls’ lips was, in fact, Cole Caufield, the man you swore to be the love of your life.

“Maybe it’s not him, Y/n,” your friend said, voice soft and gentle, as she put your phone down and locked it. “Cole wouldn’t do that… right?”

Right, you want to say. Of course he wouldn’t do that.

But you can’t. You can’t bring yourself to lie and betray your own trust. You sat there, on your couch, thinking about what you were going to do.

Your relationship was public, Cole had already posted pictures of you several times over the years, but now, so was the fact that he cheated on you with not just one girl, but with two more.

Now, everyone knows that you got cheated on, and that you weren’t an exception to the Hockey rule.

“‘s okay,” you sniff, cleaning your nose with your sweater’s sleeve. “It’s okay.”

It wasn’t, really, but what else could you do?

Truth is, even though you love— loved?— Cole a lot, you had been feeling a little bit weird. Cole didn’t seek you anymore, he didn’t look at you the same way he used to do when you first started dating.

You thought it was just the fact that he was tired and feeling responsible for his team’s recklessness, but clearly, it wasn’t just that.

Days passed after the terrible, awful video, and even though you hadn’t spoken to Cole in probably two weeks— he was away and you couldn’t bring yourself to answer his texts—, you wanted to break things up with him in person.

“Why would you do that?” Your friend asked over the phone, and you sighed.

“Because I’m better than he is,” you say. “And because I need to get closure.”

“I guess you’re right,” she sighs, and then she’s quiet for a few seconds. But, “I need to tell you something.”

“What?” You ask, rolling to your side. “What is it?”

“There’s going to be a party at Zegras’ place tonight,” she says. “Heard Cole shit ass is going.”

“Who told you that?”

“I was talking to one of his new buddies, and he invited me to the party. Said I could go if I kept my mouth shut to you,” she scoffed. “I thought about telling him to hell and then telling him to fuck himself but I thought it might be more useful to pretend I wasn’t going to tell you anything and then tell you everything.”

You chuckled. “Yeah. We’re going, then?”

“We so are going,” she giggles. “I’ll bring the eggs.”

“I’ll bring the flour.”

𖧷

THE PARTY looked more like a frat party than anything, which lowkey disgusted you.

You knew the majority of the players were young and still in their teenager mindset, but whenever you went to a party, it usually had more decorum than whatever this was.

The music was so loud you couldn’t hear your friend talking next to you. People were grinding against each other like they were in heat and ready to fuck in front of everyone, and the room had a strong smell of marijuana and cheap beer.

You rolled your eyes but focused on your reason to be there: find Cole, break up with him and maybe even embarrass him in front of all of his friends.

You tried to warn your friend about where you were going, but since the music was too loud, you just signaled to the door on your right. She nodded, and you moved around the room, feeling with your feet the way the floor shook with the song’s thrumming.

Fortunately, you didn’t have to walk much. Cole’s stupid ass seemed to have forgotten to close his room’s door, and now you were staring at the 5’8” man you thought was going to be the father of your kids, kissing another girl.

“So, this looks really fun, huh?” You said, closing the room’s door, and suddenly, all of the eyes were on you. Cole’s included.

“Y-Y/n, what,” he stutters, removing the girl from his lap and getting up. “What are you doing here, baby?”

“No, what are you doing here?” You cross your arms in front of your chest, feeling yourself start to burn with anger. “Weren’t you supposed to be in New York?”

“No, you see—”

“Is your name New York, sweetie?” You ask the girl who was previously kissing him, who looks like a scared, little kitten. Little does she know you’re not going after her— you couldn't care less about her. “Uh, I guess not.”

There were at least eight other people in the room, sitting there and goofing around. But now, all of them looked like they would pay a hundred thousand bucks not to be in Cole’s shoes.

“Y/n—” he tries again, reaching for your arm.

You step back, flinching away from his touch. “Don’t fucking touch me, Cole. You’re fucking sick. I hope y’all have fun,” you hiss, turning around and heading towards the room’s door again. You look over your shoulder, watching Cole’s sorrowful face. “Enjoy as much as you can, darling. I know his dick won’t make you happy.”

You leave the room with fast steps, not before hearing Cole’s so-called friends laugh out loud with your words. You could feel yourself burning with anger, which made you happy. You thought you were going to feel destroyed, sad and depressed when you confronted him about the fact that he cheated on you regularly.

But after seeing his pathetic expression and actions, you realised you weren’t the one who should be feeling that way.

Your legs were moving on their own, and when you noticed, you were on the second floor, barging in another room, opening its door with full strength.

Only to blush even more, this time not with anger, no.

“Oh, hey there, Y/n. Where’s the fire?”

Jack’s sarcastic tone made you hold the door’s handle tighter, and when you looked around, you felt like a fish out of its tank.

The room was poorly lit, only the yellow light from the lamps reflected on the dark walls of the room, making the environment seem more intimate than it really was.

There were sofas along the room, and low music was playing, probably coming from one of the cell phones.

Because not only Jack Hughes was there, but his oldest brother, Quinn and Juraj Slafkovský.

You didn’t even know Quinn and Jack got along with Slaf, yet there they were, sitting and chatting with each other like they weren’t all rivals during the weekdays.

They laughed with Jack’s little remark before Quinn said: “You can come in, we don’t bite.”

“Unless you want to.” Juraj was the one who said this, to your ultimate surprise, and you rolled your eyes, doing as they said and getting in, closing the door behind you.

“Dude, come on,” Jack laughs. “She has a boyfriend.”

“Not anymore,” you say, for the first time since you opened the door. You eyed the drink cart in the corner of the room, taking full steps towards it and opening the first bottle you say. Whiskey. Great. “I just broke up with Cole, actually.”

There was a second of silence before you heard some clapping behind you, which made you turn around and stare at the grown men sitting across the room.

“What’s this clapping for?” You ask.

“It was about time, Y/n, what the hell,” Juraj says. “Guy’s been cheating on you for months.”

“And you guys didn’t think of, I don’t know, maybe give me a heads up?” You ask, sarcasm pouring out of your mouth while you pour the alcoholic drink in the glass sitting on the wooden surface. Then, you walk until you’re sitting beside Quinn and Juraj. “Would’ve been nice.”

“Sorry,” Quinn says, poking your shoulder. “In my defense, I wasn’t around enough to know he was cheating.”

“In my defense,” Jack starts. “I don’t like him.”

“In my defense,” Juraj finishes, opening his legs and resting his arms behind his head. “I couldn’t do it, because I would’ve been called a homewrecker.”

You almost choked on your drink. “What?!”

“You know I’ve been wanting to fuck you for ages now,” he sighs, like he’s tired of saying that; like he’s been saying that for a long time now. “But you can’t exactly fuck your homie’s girlfriend, can you?”

“Word.” Jack says, leaning forward to fist bumping Juraj. Quinn only chuckles and you can’t believe your eyes.

You’ve known all of them for basically the same amount of time, and you liked them a lot. Jack was a little, teasing shit, way too different from Quinn, but he was funny and so were his brothers— hanging out with them was always fun.

Quinn was private but sweet, probably one of your favorite people in the league. His soft spoken demeanor had made its way into your heart and was now stuck there, for the rest of your life, probably.

And Juraj was an old friend, someone you knew even before you started dating Cole— he was the reason you and Cole got together in the first place.

So hearing that one of your closest friends wants to have sex with you is weird, especially because he had just confessed that in front of two other men.

You stare at them, incredulous. “What are you even talking about?”

“Come on, Y/n, you can’t be this oblivious,” Jack grunts, and you tilt your head, confused. “You didn’t notice the way he looks at you?”

“Fuck you, Hughes,” Slaf curses, giving him the middle finger. “Like you’re one to talk. Everyone knows you’re head over heels for her and you know which head I’m talking about.”

Quinn laughs like what Slaf said had been the funniest thing he’d heard in a while, while Jack simply shrugs and looks at you with expectant eyes.

“You are all drunk. That’s the only explanation I can find,” you say, still choosing not to see what is right in front of you. “And I’m about to be the next one.”

You took just one sip before Quinn wrapped his hand around your glass and took it out of your hands. You were about to complain and ask him what happened when he shook his head, clicking his tongue. “We are not drunk, Y/n. And we don’t want you to be.”

“What? Why not?” You ask. “I promise I’m not that type of person who talks about their love life when they’re drunk. I might talk about Tik Tok memes, though.”

“That’s worse than talking about your shit ass love life,” Jack murmurs and you turn around to look at him with angry eyes. “What?” He asks, grinning, with his hands in the air.

“It’s not my fault I can’t find the right guys,” you sigh, resting your head on Quinn’s shoulder like you’re used to doing. “Why do men suck?”

“Not all of them do, sweets.” Quinn says, placing his hand on your naked thigh, making you blush faintly.

“We don’t.” Juraj murmurs beside you, and you hum.

“Well,” you say, measuring your words. “Unfortunately, I can’t have any of you. So, yeah, I still have the same problem.”

“Who said you can’t have any of us?” Juraj says, and you lift your head, furrowing your eyebrows at him. “Or even better, all of us.”

There’s a beat of silence. The room is suddenly too warm for you, and even if you’re just wearing a skirt and a crop top, you still feel yourself starting to get sweaty.

The song is still playing, an unknown melody reverberating through the room, and what once felt big and spacious suffocates you now.

“You guys. You can’t be serious… right?” You ask, looking at each and every single one of them in the eye.

Jack is the first one to break the silence. “Come on, Y/n. Haven’t you ever thought about us like that?”

You can feel their eyes on you as you think of what to answer. You can’t say you haven’t— that would be a lie. You were loyal to Cole and you loved him, but you weren’t blind.

And now that you’re really thinking, these guys hadn’t been particularly sleek either; Jack with his obsession with calling you pet names, Quinn finding any and every excuse to touch you whenever you were in the same room and Juraj eye-fucking you from afar while you cuddled with his teammate.

So yeah, you have wondered about it before, but it all sounded so insane you didn’t think about it twice. The odds of all four of them liking you were pretty low, so why bother fooling yourself with these kinds of thoughts?

But now, you were sitting in the same room as them, with Juraj’s arm touching yours, Quinn’s hand running up and down your leg, and Jack’s eyes on you, like you were a prey or something similar.

“We can’t do that,” you whisper, trying your hardest to hold onto that single piece of sanity and morals you still had. “You guys are insane. Jack, Quinn’s your brother.” You reason, expecting to knock some sense into them.

Quinn squeezes your thigh slightly. “It wouldn’t be our first time.”

“Besides, it’s fine because we’re not going to fuck each other,” Jack says, like he’s telling you the sky’s blue. “I’m going to fuck you.”

“We are going to fuck you,” Juraj corrects, and you close your eyes, holding your hands together on your lap, trying to keep them still. “What do you say, chéri?” He asks, getting dangerously close to your neck, his strong, masculine scent making your head spin. His lips briefly touch your neck, the contact so light you wouldn’t feel it if you weren’t hyper aware of your surroundings.

Quinn’s warm, big hand is moving up, up and up, and that startles you.

You get up, panting as hard as if you had ran an entire marathon, and you stand in the middle of the room, surrounded by them. By your friends who had just asked to fuck you.

“I can’t— I can’t do this,” you whisper. “What about Cole, what about—”

“Sweetheart, Cole is probably balls deep inside someone else right now,” Quinn replies, and the others hum in agreement. “If you don’t want it because you don’t want to, it’s fine, you know we’d never force you. But,” he spreads his thighs, the outline of his cock is visible and right there for you to see. You gulp, not sure of what to do. “If you don’t want to do it because you still believe Cole deserves your kindness, then I have to say—”

“You’re being dumb,” Juraj finishes Quinn’s sentence, smirking. “You’ll be crying over one small cock when you have three waiting for you. It’s your pick, really.”

Your head is spinning and you feel aware of your body, which is something you hate. You can feel your arms and legs starting to give in, and to your absolute horror and panic, you can feel your underwear start to get sticky.

You walk towards the door, ready to leave, ready to put this night behind and pretend this was all a fever dream, and never think about this again. But, as you grab the handle, you know you won’t be able to forget this, not even if you wanted to.

So, you stop being a hypocrite, and grab the door’s key, locking the door once, and then twice, before exhaling and turning around again.

All three of them are staring at you, with the same expression; lust. It’s sinful and you are certain that you’re going to hell for this, but as you start to get undressed, right there, in the middle of the room, for all of them to see, you can’t help but feel like what you’re doing is nothing but right.

You remove your crop top, pulling the fabric over your head and dropping it on the floor, shivering slightly when the cold breeze hits your naked skin. You do the same with your skirt, letting it fall around your feet like a river, leaving you standing with only your bra and lace underwear in front of them.

“Fuck.” You hear one of them say, you’re not sure who, the word nothing but a whisper.

Juraj is the first one to get up, and get his hands on you. He’s rough, hungry and not careful at all, something you’re not used to but like it anyway.

His lips are on yours almost instantly, and his hands are holding you down while he licks and sucks your mouth. He tastes like some kind of candy you’ve had before, and your brain is screaming that what you’re doing is wrong, so wrong and that you literally just broke up with your boyfriend of two years not even thirty minutes ago but you can’t stop.

It’s maddening, it’s addictive and you want more.

It gets worse when you feel another pair of hands on your back, unclamping your bra. You hear a soft tud, which you can only assume is your bralette hitting the floor. Then, there are hands squeezing your tits, hands almost as rough as Slaf’s, and it has you moaning inside his mouth.

“So fucking soft,” you hear Jack say behind you as he gets closer, his hard dick poking your ass over your underwear. “Tits so fucking soft for us, baby.”

And he pinches both of your nipples, making you whimper loud and separate your lips from Juraj’s. There’s a saliva string connecting both of you and it makes you feel nasty.

He gives you a brief peck before gently slapping your thighs twice, silently asking you to remove your underwear, which you promptly do. You slide your lace panties over your legs, shyly throwing them away from you.

It’s only then that you notice Quinn staring at you from the couch, half naked with his dick out of his boxers— the thought of him getting off only by watching you makes you squeeze your thighs together, to stop your hole from clenching around nothing.

“Let’s get you wet and ready, alright?” Juraj says, manhandling you around like you were just a toy for him to break, until your back touched the cold, wooden surface of the table sitting in the middle of the dark room. You arch your back, pouting with the coldness and Slaf coos at you. “I’m sorry there isn’t anything more comfortable than this.”

“Like she cares about comfort,” Quinn snorts. “The only thing she’s worried about it’s whether she’s taking one or two cocks in that greedy pussy of hers.”

The humiliation Quinn’s words bring you is almost unbearable, yet it has you dripping anyway. Their laughs, the way they’re all staring at you like some piece of meat makes you feel hot all over.

Juraj lays you down carefully, only to spread your legs open with the same roughness he used before, when his lips were on yours. You yelped, feeling exposed and embarrassed— your bare, glistening pussy was on display for all three of them to see.

“Holy shit,” you hear someone say, Juraj maybe, and you cringe, hiding your face with your hands. “She’s perfect.”

“We’ll see about that,” you hear Jack say behind you and you remove your hands from your face. Suddenly, he’s sliding his pants down, his dick touching his covered abs as wraps his fist around his length, slowly jerking off in front of you.

You’re watching it in awe, even as you stare at him upside down, since your head is hanging off the table’s edge. He smirks down at you at the same time Juraj licks your clenching hole, making you moan for the first time, loud and involuntary.

“Ah.”

“Shit,” you hear Slaf say. “Pussy so fucking wet and sweet. Y/n, you’ll drive me crazy.”

You don’t answer; not because you don’t want to but because Jack places his hands on both sides of your cheeks, squeezing them together until your mouth forms the perfect O and he can slide his entire dick inside it.

He moans noisily as you gag on his long dick. It’s an unexpected feeling, to have your throat fucked like this— Cole wasn’t a big fan of messy, rough blowjobs— but fuck if it doesn’t get you wetter.

Juraj is still working hard on your pussy, licking your folds and throbbing clit, eating it with a loud slurp, the sound of your wetness making you close your eyes with pleasure and shame.

“Your mouth feels so good, pretty,” Jack moans behind you, still holding your head in place while he drags his dick through your throat. Your eyes are wet with unshed tears and you feel your mouth so full it is starting to hurt. “Almost as tight as a pussy.”

It’s overwhelming to try to manage the feeling of Juraj’s tongue and Jack’s cock on you. You feel warm, your hands are gripping the table like your life depends on it, and you can feel yourself start to slip more and more.

“She’s wet enough already,” Quinn states, and the fact that he’s referring to you like you’re not even there makes you whimper loudly around Jack’s cock.

Next thing you know, you’re being manhandled again; Jack’s rough hands leave your cheeks to hold your waist instead, taking you to the nearest couch and laying down with you on top of him.

You’re facing him, those blue eyes never leaving yours. “Y/n,” he starts, his tone gentle for the first time that night. You hum, adjusting yourself on top of him, until you have both of your legs on each side of his body, almost on fours on top of him, highly aware that Quinn and Slaf could see everything. “We are going to be rough.”

“I know,” you whisper.

“I’m not asking for permission, baby, do you understand that?” He talks to you like one would do to a child, using a tone so soft it could put you to sleep, if it were any other situation. You bite your lips, feeling Slaf’s long fingers sliding up and down your pussy, rubbing circles on your swollen clit while Jack speaks. “We are going to be rough. Tonight, you’re nothing but a toy for us to play with, alright? A hole for us to fuck.”

You nod, closing your eyes momentarily as Juraj pinches your clit, hard. He tugs it and it feels like he just placed a clothespin on you. It hurts so. Good.

“I need your words, baby.”

“I u-understand that,” you sob, hot tears running freely down your face as you continue to speak. “I w-want it.”

Jack chuckles, touching your face with care. “It would be so nice if we actually cared about what you want, huh?”

You bit your lip again, suppressing a loud moan. It would be even more embarrassing if they realized how wet you got every time they were mean towards you.

“Bitch gets wetter and wetter every time you say shit like that, Hughes,” Juraj says, and your entire face burns with shame, as you hide it in the crock of Jack’s neck. “Come see this shit, Quinn.”

You tremble as you hear a pair of steps echoing through the room, and without warning, you feel your hips getting lifted, just slightly, at the same time you feel two fingers being inserted inside deeply in your pussy.

You whine loudly, not even feeling pain with how wet you were. His fingers were moving around like you were nothing but a sex doll, making you hold Jack’s arm to steady yourself.

“Look at this tight, little thing,” Juraj says, twirling his fingers around, scissoring them inside you. “Merde. She’s milking my fucking fingers, bro.”

“I can see that,” Quinn hums. “Pussy so fucking greedy she’s taking you without complaints.”

You were about to moan again when Juraj removed his fingers from you, leaving you clenching around nothing, once again. “Let’s start, then.”

After that, it’s hard to tell what really happened. You were thrown around, and suddenly, Slaf was laying under you, Quinn was standing beside you and you assumed Jack was behind you.

You could feel one of them poking their cock through your slit, gathering all your wetness to use as lube. Then, he slowly started to insert it, the stretch making you whimper inside Slaf’s mouth, as he bruised your lips roughly again.

Jack had barely given you time to adjust to his length when you felt Juraj’s tip poking at your entrance too. You gasped inside his mouth, feeling his dick joining Jack’s inside you and.

Oh.

“Fuck, Y/n.”

You opened your eyes, glistening with tears, and stared at Quinn standing beside you, who was looking at you with fond eyes. He chuckles while staring down at you, taking his dick out again and grabbing it with his right hand, running the tip over your mouth.

The salty taste of his precum painting your lips white distracted you momentarily from the fact that Juraj was still trying to put his dick inside you, accompanying Jack’s.

But it wasn’t enough, of course— even if Juraj's thick, long fingers had stretched you, it didn’t compare to having both of their cocks inside you, together.

“Oh,” you heard Quinn coo. “She’s crying. Maybe she can’t take it?”

You shook your head immediately, not even acknowledging how desperate you looked. Quinn put his thumb inside your mouth at the same time Juraj completely bottomed out inside you, making you scream around the brunette’s finger.

“Sh, sh,” Juraj mumbled under you. “Take it, hm?”

The stretch hurt, yet you couldn’t ask them to stop— you felt so full and you swear you can feel them rearranging your guts, reaching so deep inside your body that if you were to look, you’d probably see a bulge in your stomach.

“Holy shit, man,” Jack moaned, dragging his dick slowly until only the tip was in, so that he could slam it back into you again. “She’s so fucking tight.”

“Move, Hughes.” Juraj hissed under you, and after that, everything fell into a pure state of lust.

Jack and Juraj slammed their cocks inside you rhythmically, like they were dancing a well rehearsed dance. Your body jolted forward as they pounded inside you, rough hands— you didn’t know who's— holding you by your waist and pulling your hair at the same time.

Quinn, who had just been jerking his cock while looking at you, decides to take the opportunity and shove his dick inside you, making you gag around his thick length.

“Shit, Y/n,” he moans, throwing his head back. “I’m going to wreck your mouth like they’re doing with your pussy.”

And he wasn’t lying. He tilted your head to the side and thrust his dick deep inside your mouth, until your nose touched his crotch area. You gagged, still not used to the reckless act, but you were far too gone to complain.

The room smelled like sex, lust and sin. The dark walls watched as you laid on top of Juraj’s much bigger body while you took their cocks in two of your holes, with your pupils blown and wide. Your face was destroyed, it didn’t need to be a genius to realize that; your mascara had smudged under your eyes and the tears had spread the black ink almost everywhere.

Your legs hurt, and so did your jaw, but the pleasure was bigger than any pain. You had never felt this dirty, this raw before, but you feared that after this night, you wouldn’t ever be the same; nothing besides them would ever be enough.

“She feels so good,” Jack says, voice filled with need. “She was born for this.”

“Fuck, you’re right,” Juraj says, kissing your neck while you gagged around Quinn’s dick. “Born to take cock inside her tiny pussy.”

After that, you keep slipping and slipping. You come on their dicks at least twice, falling apart each time you feel your wetness coating their dicks.

Your throat is raw, your jaw is hurting, but Quinn is close to his climax, like his brother and Slaf.

Jack and Slaf are the first to come, both painting your walls white with their seed. It’s maddening, your belly feels full of them, but you don’t have time to acknowledge that properly, not when Quinn is also coming deep inside your throat.

You lay limp on top of Slaf’s broad chest, closing your eyes, tired.

But—

“Y/n, hey,” you hear Quinn calling, and you open your eyes, just barely. “Can you stand up, just for a bit?”

“Don’t let it go to waste, baby,” Juraj warns you, and you keep clenching even after they remove their dicks. It’s hard, you feel so open you should be disgusted at yourself but you still try to do as they said.

You feel a pair of hands lifting you, and you sigh, exhausted. They manhandled you until you were laying on top of the couch, head resting on your arms. A rough pair of hands— Jack’s— spread your legs open, leaving you exposed once again.

“Go on,” he commands, and you let it go, feeling their sticky cum pour out of your used, gaping pussy. You sob, feeling dirty.

“Jesus fuck.”

“I think I’m hard again.”

“Lowkey, yeah.”

You collapse on the couch once you feel like there’s nothing left, blacking out as soon as your head hits the leather.

𖧷

YOU WOKE up with a light touch on your cheek.

It takes a while for you to manage to open your eyes, but when you do, you thank whoever decided to put a yellow, warm lighting in that room.

“Hi.”

Jack’s voice brings you back to the present, and you lift your head, only then realising that you were in his lap, fully clothed— with clothes that weren’t yours— and covered with something heavy that felt like a blanket.

You frowned.

“What… what happened?” You ask, looking around. There was Juraj, who was placing a few takeout bags on the table, and Quinn, who was holding an old piece of cloth. “Oh my God.”

It was real. You fucked Jack, Juraj and Quinn.

“Oh my God,” you groan, hiding your face in Jack’s chest.

“I hope these exclamations of yours are because you’re wearing Zegras’ hideous clothes and not because you realized you fucked the three of us.” Jack says, sarcasm taking over his face.

“Why would we do that,” you mumble. “Gosh. That’s wrong in so many ways, I can’t even begin to—”

“Y/n,” Quinn calls you, dropping the cloth on the table— the same table Juraj had eaten you out on— and walking towards you, lifting your chin with two of his fingers. “Did you enjoy it?”

“I— Well— We—” you stumbled over your words, not sure of what to say.

He applies pressure on your chin, sapphire eyes squinting at you. “Answer me, sweetheart.”

“I—” you sighed. “Yeah. I did.”

He smiled.

“Then we’re fine.” It’s all he says, before pecking your lips, briefly. It was your first time kissing him and you secretly didn’t want it to be the last.

“We liked it too,” Jack says once his brother lets you go. He winks at you, smirking. “I’ll never forget the sight of you full with my—”

You put your hand over his mouth, red as an apple. “Okay, alright, shut up.”

He chuckles, taking your hand away and kissing you, exploring your mouth with his tongue, just like his brother had done, barely two minutes ago.

“You guys are no fun,” you hear Slaf’s voice. “In my opinion, we should just keep doing this.”

“No,” you say. “This was a one time thing. We can’t keep fucking each other like this.”

“As I said, no fun.”

“She’ll change her mind in a few days, I just know it.” Jack says under you and you roll your eyes at his cockiness.

“I’m too tired to argue with you,” you say. “I smell Chinese food. Can we eat?”

“Yeah, we should probably do that,” Quinn says, nodding. “It’s late already. Let’s eat and take Y/n home.”

Juraj and Jack agree with just a few more complaints, and while you watch them take turns to feed you, you realize, with shame, that Jack was wrong about one thing.

It wouldn’t take a few days for you to change your mind.

You had already done it.

NHL MASTERLIST.

JACK HUGHES MASTERLIST.

QUINN HUGHES MASTERLIST.

[rosiewitchescottage]

Let's get context here.

When we're talking

'let's get rid of or discourage anyone from reading these books'.

- Reason? Usually because there's some theme that certain people don't want to be known about, or because someone has issues with an author.

100% agreed that this is BAD - Books that talk about slavery, books that talk about The Holocaust.

These should always be widely available, even if they're not very well written, tell the story from an unusual angle or maybe get facts wrong.

All these have the value of getting the subject talked about, and the history studied.

Books that tell m/m or f/f love stories or show a family that simply has two dads or two mums. These books should be available, because whether people approve or disapprove, same sex relationships are a reality.

And as long as they're treated the same way as we'd expect a m/f couple to be, in a book aimed at the same age group, then where's the harm?

Then there's the saga of J K Rowling. You don't like her? You don't want to read her books? Well good news, because you don't have to do either.

But say that no one else should either? Try to erase J K Rowling as author of her own work?

Then don't go expecting to be seen as doing something 'good'.

When we're talking

"These books contain sexual/sexually related words and/or images, which makes them unsuitable for children and young teens. They do not belong in a school library or children's library'.

Then why would anyone have issue with these books being removed from such places?

As far as I know these books can be bought by parents for home use. So they're not getting outright banned.

People talk about children who've been sexually assaulted and needing to talk about what happened to them. And that's important. But I'm still not seeing how all these overly sexual details are necessary.

There's a world of difference between simply naming the body parts where no one should be touching them, especially not grown ups, and using the language of sexual acts!

We can and should be able to name all our body parts, using the right words. And children should know what constitutes a healthy and loving relationship.

But we can help them to talk about violations of this without language that they shouldn't need to know before the middle teens, at the earliest.

And this is NOT supposed to be an anti LGBT matter. This should apply whether a book is showing opposite sex or same sex couples.

As I said earlier. Little children should be able to see families with two same sex parents as well as opposite sex parents, or indeed grandparents.

The issue with 'Grandpa's Pride' shouldn't be that Grandpa has a male partner.

If this was shown exactly the same way that any other grandparents would be. Then I'd be singing a different tune.

Show Grandpa and his partner holding hands and happy, fine. But why the heck do little ones need to see leather BDSM Daddies?! 😡😡😡

[fictionadventurer]

🐵

[inkskinned]

you know, you know. no gods, no masters, no kings on pedestals. everyone is fallible. death of the author. you know! you are balanced about your intake of media - you allow the wiggle room, the grace, the gratitude, the skepticism. nobody above criticism.

but still. a weird gut-punch feeling, something akin to betrayal. you read the article. surprise! an author you love is actually: a serial fucking predator.

well, shit. what now. no, you knew he was a person (all people are), but now you're wondering - what have i overlooked by accident? what messages have i internalized that are strange and cruel? and also, like, what the fuck?

his actions lay a thick glaze on top of everything. like each place is now ruined, opaque in a new way. but okay, fine, you've done this before. you knew better, right? you've been betrayed by many a cherished childhood author.

still, this stickiness. fuck. can you pick up that book again. will you read it to your children. you've recommended it to others - will you ever do that again? and of course, of course, no parasocial relationships. you were theoretically above this kind of sentiment. but the artist informs the art, right.

so it's not something as clear-cut as feeling he owed you, specifically (a stranger) better behavior - just that you kind of, in a distant and odd way... sort of trusted him to do better. it's not like a real trust or something speakable, just the faint hope that the product (good books) was a thin representation of the soul. now it feels like the product (good? books?) was a mask. in some small or insignificant way, your previous support of this person lent them power. your money and your time and your laughter.

and the thing is - you have this terrible, echoing sensation. how many times will this happen? over and over. you find out that the singer you love is actually a predator. you learn over drinks that your favorite high school english teacher is in jail for what he did to her. you listen to the news idly and suddenly discover that a woman you used to idolize has been abusing her kids for an actual eon.

what can you touch without the static melting off. you can't even really complain about it too much (you were supposed to know better, and besides, you don't want the same re-split "it's not your fault, love what you love" basic advice), but now it's here. somehow, it feels like - you let him into your life.

it's not that things need to be pure or an artist has to be like, endlessly perfect, mindful. demure. it's more just this terrible truth that has been replayed through your veins so often it feels criminally vain. power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. did you want any one person to be worth that power?

it's just that he wrote books where he seemed to understand that. he seemed to know about hierarchies and unfair systems and bigotry and privilege. you thought they were books about what it means to struggle. you thought they were about having power and still using it for good rather than for control. he spooned you a narrative of being a good guy, a kind soul. you fucking bought what that fucking monster sold.

maybe that's why they were fantasies, after all.

[lila-kriegerin]

OMG, OP!

I was just about to suggest "Now & Then "

but I saw it in your tags.

I'm so sorry this may look like an unhinged rant no one asked for, but someone has to tell people younger than me what I know, so I spent 2 hours crafting a reply/follow-up/addendum to you post, OP. Please forgive any formatting errors. I tried to keep things simple and engaging but a few things may look a little bit odd depending on what sort of device you're viewing it on. I couldn't take the risk of making all the text too small

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RQLVzTtt2Ws

The biggest problem trying to find similar films is that they often involve at least two of the girls having some kind of relationship to boys causing drama (I'm looking at you, "Sisterhood Of The Travelling Pants "... and others) whereas a film like "Dead Poets Society " is definitely in that pseudo-homoerotic and explicitly homoerotic range of storytelling.

Why do you think "Little Women" was popular for so long? It was the 1oth century literary equivalent with the requisite brush with death and loss so common to an era before even antibiotics existed... and loss and grief still happen today.

It's true that so few are like "Newsies " and "West Side Story ", but DON'T sleep on hits like "Annie" &

🥁 drumroll, please 🥁

Want to guess what was the first obviously gay song featured in a film from Hollywood (after the Hayes Code)?

The First Gay Anthem: Calamity Jane's 'Secret Love'

It's not "West Side Story " because it's a western frontier musical, and they skirted the lines as hard as they could to have a nice Christian young woman fancying a "tomboy": Calamity Jane (who by historical record seems to have favoured women and men).

Though based on American Western folklore, this premise clearly imitated the successful 1950 film version of Irving Berlin's Broadway musical Annie Get Your Gun, about Wild West sharpshooter Annie Oakley.

But instead of a make-over, Calamity Jane gives its tough-gal heroine a powerfully symbolic pistol; her masculine aggression plays with sexual identity through gestures enlarged to the point of farce. And then it goes deeper--into emotional confusion that grows from Jane taking on supposed male habits. Doris Day brings comic overstatement to Jane's complex repression of her own instincts. Like many a closet case, she exhibits a self-defeating willingness to fit into a male-dominated culture. Her tough mannerisms are also designed to protect her hidden, vulnerable emotions.

You have to dig.

Dig deep, and be willing to watch a film with a different spoken language and culture, but there are some parallels.

Consider the Britney Spears film, which I believe is called "Crossroad(s)" in English. [Sorry, I don't have time to look up the title.]

Now— what if there were a film that's something a bit like a lesbian equivalent?

Touch

A Chinese movie produced/sponsored by the sapphic dating app Rela. It follows three girls on a road trip. Chinese language with English subtitles.

I've never, EVER seen any website draw direct comparisons to other films that way, such as:

If you loved "She's The Man" but want it more sapphic (though ultimately thwarted by the producer), you can't miss "Bend It Like Beckham"!

The photo which was posted by OP DOES contain valid points!! (No one is going to treat you "like a man/boy" unless they truly think that's what you are, and society DOES socialise people differently, so: how would a group of teenage girls or very young adult women ever have experiences identical to those in a film like "Dead Poet's Society"?)

Nevertheless, there are some similar films that are comparable:

"Superbad" — "Booksmart".

I decided to hyperfocus trying to think up some equivalents to "Dead Poet's Society".

Here's a quick comparison I spent far too much time on:

If you’re looking for a Dead Poets Society equivalent with mostly female characters, a few films capture that same blend of deep emotional intimacy, artistic passion, and repressed desire. Here are the best contenders:

1. Mädchen in Uniform (1931 & 1958)

This is the OG queer boarding school drama. Set in a strict Prussian girls' school, it follows a young student, Manuela, who falls in love with her teacher, Fräulein von Bernburg. The film is explicitly homoerotic in a way that Dead Poets Society is only suggestive of—there’s longing glances, whispered affections, and a stifling environment that tries to crush individuality and desire. Like Neil, Manuela faces tragic consequences for daring to express herself.

Cracks (2009) — If Dead Poets Society were darker and more explicitly about queer desire, it would be Cracks. This film follows a group of girls at a remote British boarding school under the spell of their charismatic teacher, Miss G (Eva Green, in all her seductive, unhinged glory). When a new student arrives, power struggles and hidden obsessions unravel. It has all the repression, poetry, and tragic queerness you could want.

Heavenly Creatures (1994) — Peter Jackson (yes, Lord of the Rings Peter Jackson) directed this feverishly intense drama about two schoolgirls in 1950s New Zealand—Pauline and Juliet—whose bond becomes so consuming that it leads to murder. Like Dead Poets Society, it’s about breaking free from repression, but it takes a much darker turn. The homoerotic tension between the girls is undeniable, and the fantasy world they create as an escape mirrors the way the DPS boys use poetry to carve out their own space in a suffocating environment.

Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975) — This one’s all about atmosphere—a haunting, dreamlike film about a group of girls at an Australian boarding school who mysteriously vanish during a picnic. While there’s no overt romance, the film is full of lingering touches, dreamy stares, and a pervading sense of longing and repression. The rigid Victorian setting and the contrast between the natural world and societal constraints make it feel spiritually connected to DPS.

The Falling (2014) — Starring Florence Pugh and Maisie Williams, this film is weird and hypnotic. It’s set in an all-girls school in the 1960s and follows a mysterious fainting epidemic that spreads through the students. It has the same themes of teenage rebellion, deep female friendships that tip into obsession, and an oppressive institution trying to crush individual expression.

Céline and Julie Go Boating (1974) — This is a more whimsical, surreal take on female friendship and creativity. It follows two women who fall into a bizarre, looping story in a haunted house, constantly re-experiencing and altering the narrative. It has a Dead Poets Society vibe in the sense that it’s about escaping rigid reality through art and imagination, but with a queer-coded, magical twist.

If you want the closest equivalent to "Dead Poets Society"...

..."Mädchen in Uniform" or "Cracks" are your best bets, and Cracks more than Mädchen in Uniform

because the latter is so old fashioned that to further scandalise viewers they paired a teacher with a student.

If you want something more poetic and atmospheric, "Picnic at Hanging Rock" or "The Falling" will scratch that itch.

If all of that is too gay for you (gofuckyourself, tee-hee)

You really, REALLY should try

"Mona Lisa Smile".

(...and if it's not too gay for you, then go watch CRACKS right now!)

"Mona Lisa Smile" [hereafter referred to as MLS] is often called the "Dead Poets Society" [hereafter, DPS] for women, and yeah, it certainly hits a lot of the same beats—

an outsider teacher inspiring students to challenge societal norms,

a prestigious school that values obedience over individuality, and

a group of young people grappling with expectations that threaten to suffocate them.

Where DPS is about breaking free through poetry and self-expression, MLS is about that sort of thing tosome degree, but more about feminism, gender roles, and the fight for intellectual freedom in a world that wants women to be just wives and mothers.

Similarities to Dead Poets Society

The Inspirational Teacher as a Catalyst for Change

In DPS, John Keating (Robin Williams) shakes up Welton Academy’s rigid, tradition-obsessed environment with poetry and passion.

In MLS, Katherine Watson (Julia Roberts) does the same at Wellesley College, using art history to challenge her students’ pre-ordained roles as perfect housewives.

Both teachers are NOT merely instructing— they’re awakening their students, making them see the world differently, and often doing so in ways that put them at odds with their school’s administration.

The Oppressive Institution and Its Ideals

Welton Academy is a suffocating prep school that values discipline over creativity, much like Wellesley College in the 1950s. They outwardly promote academic excellence but ultimately groom women to become ideal wives. (T_T)

Both films show how these institutions uphold deeply ingrained traditions that resist change, even when it's clearly needed.

Both films show some of the human cost of trying, and giving up.

A Group of Students at a Crossroads

Just like Todd, Neil, and the rest of the DPS boys who struggle between expectation and their own desires, the young women in MLS— Joan, Betty, Giselle, and Connie—each navigate their own battles between societal pressure and personal ambition.

Joan (Julia Stiles) mirrors Todd.

Betty (Kirsten Dunst) is like a mix of Cameron and Richard from DPS.

Giselle (Maggie Gyllenhaal) is the Charlie of the group.

The Tragedy of Repression

DPS’s tragedy is clear: someone's dreams are crushed & there is a heartbreaking su*c*de [all the trigger warnings apply]. MLS doesn’t have a singular moment that tragic, but its heartbreak is quieter—seeing some brilliant young women choose societal expectations over their own ambitions because it feels like the only option... that is definitely going to haunt some people more than it may haunt white cis-hetero male viewers.

In both films, someone (one you probably like most of all, in both films) will have something horrible happen to them by their own choice, and that is very haunting.

Additionally, I dont think it's too big a spoiler to say oth films end with the teacher leaving— but to say why would spoil the endings of the films.

The last scenes mirror each other emotionally: in DPS & MLS, a quiet, bittersweet goodbye with both endings suggesting that while the teacher is gone, the ideas they planted will live on.

Key Differences

The Central Conflict

DPS is about breaking free from repression through art and poetry. It’s about passion, self-expression, and the fight for creative freedom.

MLS is about that too, though with more of a (*cough*white*cough*cough*) feminist focus on gender roles, feminism, and intellectual independence to have intellectual and self growth as an individual— and it asks whether women can truly be free when they’re still expected to conform to outdated expectations.

Homoerotic "Sub"text

[be honest: if you miss it in either film you're in denial or unobservent and that is your own journey you need to take]

DPS is filled with homoerotic tension, especially between Todd and Neil. The intimacy between the boys—the longing glances, the whispered poetry, the emotional weight of their friendships—feels deeply charged.

If you DEMAND that level of queerness, MLS ain't it.

MLS has some queer subtext, particularly with [one character], who is coded as more fluid in her sexuality, but the film doesn’t lean into that as much as DPS does because it's focused more on the pseudo-historical narrative from the book upon which it was based.

Don't forget that DPS came out to cinemas...

THEN "The Craft" did,

THEN "Cruel Intentions" did,

THEN MLS.

DPS was intentionally pushing boundaries of censors for queer story-telling when the USA was still afraid for gay people to peck each other with a little kiss on the lips on television before 10 PM.

DPS ends in a tragedy that reinforces the cost of defying the system— [spoilers redacted], and the boys are [narratively] left in a state which leaves the viewers feeling a bittersweet limbo.

MLS is perhaps a bit more hopeful; and although the school seemingly remains unchanged, things in that world have definitely shifted for the characters.

Their worlds aren't fully transformed though for MLS, it’s beginning to open up, but MLS leaves viewers with their own bittersweet limbo like DPS[-lite] with a sliver of a dash of hope.

Final Verdict:

"Mona Lisa Smile" is "Dead Poets Society" through a differing feminist lens.

It swaps poetry for art,

an all-boys school for an all-girls college, and

queer-coded male friendships for female students fighting for their intellectual freedom.

It has the same spirit—

a teacher who inspires students to think for themselves, an oppressive institution trying to maintain order, and young people wrestling with societal expectations.

However, where DPS is a tale of tragic repression, MLS leans toward quiet rebellion— not a fiery "O Captain, My Captain" moment, but a slow, steady push toward change.

just saw this on pinterest and it hit me like a truck