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angellic4l · 2 days ago

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don’t hate the player - d.m

massive thank you’s to @esote-rika @wheresmacoffee @notlongtolove @floraisunwell @mggslover my absolute angels!!!

in which; fem!bau!reader goes to a jazz bar and bumps into the last person she’d ever want to see

content: flirty!derek, fem!bau!reader, angst!!, they fight sort of, reader hates morgan (i promise there’s a point to this) mentions of sex but no one does anything, swearing, alcohol consumption, reader wears a dress and heels

wc: 2.5k

a/n: i see basically no derek fics unless its smut (i dont read that) so i’m showing him some love!! i will continue with spencer fics im just stressing trying to write my ideas for him. kisses!!!

One of the girls’ playlists was blaring in the big bedroom, ‘Cool For The Summer’ reverberating off of the creme walls as each of you were primping and priming yourselves. Hair tools plugged in and on, makeup bags half empty with their contents spread throughout the room, and mirrors almost everywhere.

The night had been planned weeks in advance, and you were lucky enough to get the whole day off instead of having to use a sick day. It was one of your friends’ 27th birthday, and the first time you’d been out with your friends for a while, so all of you were buzzing with excitement.

She wanted to go to a jazz club, to ‘experience that ‘20s aesthetic’, in her words. You absolutely couldn’t wait to be celebrating your friend in a jazz bar, imagining soulful music as the soundtrack to your night, espresso martinis, and just having fun with your friends while you got ready.

Once done fixing your hair, you turned off the curler and unplugged it, setting it back on the heat proof mat before grabbing your hung up dress from the top of a door. You changed in the bathroom, stepping into the dress so as not to mess up your hair. It was the perfect mix of elegant yet sexy, form-fitting in the right places, but not too much skin on show to be deemed inappropriate.

After taking photos with and of the birthday girl, and then a group photo of you all on a polaroid camera, a taxi was ordered to the house. Excitement gathered in your stomach, the realisation that you were actually going out for the first time in forever, to celebrate one of your closest friends’ birthday no less, setting in and making you feel giddy.

As you all walked into the jazz club, you were greeted with a dimly lit room, illuminated with orange lighting to give it that cozy, intimate atmosphere. Red brick walls, decorated with vinyls, paintings, and wall lamps, were lined with brown leather booths. The sweet symphony of the saxophone softly sailed through the place before settling in your ears.

For the first time in a while, you felt alive, truly alive. Of course, working in high stake situations, apprehending some of the worst criminals known to man, and acting in life or death situations constantly fills you with adrenaline. That would be considered as feeling alive by most people, but it isn’t.

In this moment, you felt electric. You were on a high, not because of adrenaline, but because of pure euphoria. The atmosphere was welcoming, intimate, and so full of passion. You and your friends were all sat around a table sharing anecdotes, laughing, drinking, and just having fun. There was nothing to worry about, no nerves about a phone call from Hotch, no having to filter what you say.

It was pure bliss, everything you’d been missing for a while, and you felt like nothing and no one could bring you down from this peak.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Being so in the moment with your friends, enjoying good gossip and reminiscing on your uni days together, meant that you weren’t really checking the time, nor did you care to. Subconsciously though, you figured it had been at least an hour since you’d arrived; 12 five minute songs had been performed, give or take.

Everyone was taking turns buying rounds, the group had agreed on it before the night. It was your turn to buy everyone’s drinks now. The bar was popular, but it wasn’t packed like a club was, and for that you were thankful. Carrying a tray of drinks back to the table, in heels no less, would’ve been a nightmare.

Standing at the deep brown, oak bar, waiting for the drinks, you watch your friends laughing and giggling. The contentment you felt still hadn’t gone away, coursing through your body as if it were inside every red blood cell, depositing this gleeful energy with each pump of your heart. A few moments pass before you turn your attention back to the bar, leaning on it ever so slightly, observing how the drinks are made.

Suddenly, you feel a presence to the side of you, but you figure it’s just another patron buying a drink. Then, there’s a voice. An all too familiar voice that seems to not only pull you down from your euphoric high, but plummet you deep into the depths of anger, too.

“Pretty girl, fancy seeing you here,” he almost sings and you can hear the arrogant smirk on his face without even turning to face him.

“Morgan. Please, for the love of all things good, do not talk to me,” you try to remain as civil as possible, he hasn’t actually done anything yet, and you’re not horrible.

Derek raises his hands in some mock surrender, but his smirk never wavers. Sometimes you wondered what it would be like to humble him, wipe that smirk off of his face, and bring his ego down a few notches. Immensely gratifying, you’d decided a while ago.

To put it simply, Derek Morgan was everything you hated about men in today’s society. He was a cocky, arrogant, bastard with little to no regard for people’s feelings. And the worst thing? He talked about women as if they were conquests, notches in his bedpost, trophies for his fucking shelf. It pissed you off to no end, how he could act like the women he ‘dated’ or slept with weren’t real people who deserved basic human decency.

But, you worked with him, day in and day out, and you weren’t about to lose your job over someone as insufferable as him. Besides, as much as you could hate his self proclaimed ‘CasaNova’ ways, he was damn good at his job, and he hadn’t done anything to you directly. He was fully unaware of the stance you’d taken against him, and he hadn’t done anything to require you airing out your grievances. Yet.

A long suffering sigh escapes your gloss coated lips as you come to terms with these facts, realising you can’t be hostile to your coworker, even if you’re not at work, because he doesn’t even know you have a problem with him.

“Look, Morgan, I’m sorry for that, but I’m here with my friends, celebrating, and I want absolutely nothing to do with work right now,” you murmur, still leaning across the bar.

“Look, mama, I get it. Jus’ didn’t wanna be rude, that’s all,” his tone is soft, softer than you’ve ever heard Morgan speak, and it’s filled with understanding. To say you’re shocked would be an understatement.

The pair of you exchange small smiles, a fleeting farewell, before he grabs his drink and leaves. Maybe you’ve misunderstood him, even if you don’t agree with what he stands for, and maybe you’ve been too impulsive with your initial judgements. Derek Morgan is a dick, but maybe he isn’t always a dick.

Drinks are passed around the table, manicured hands grabbing at various coloured liquids in different shaped glasses. Euphoria is long gone after your interaction with Derek, no longer on that high of serenity but in a sea of uncertainty. You won’t let yourself be a Debby downer on your friend’s birthday, though. Being a profiler means knowing all of your own tells, so you mask them well, putting up a front of glee until it isn’t fake anymore.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Jazz music speaks to the soul, transcending all borders, dimensions, and whatever the hell else Reid talks about, to reach the quintessence of your being. Rhythmic notes reach deep until they’re at the core of you, becoming a balm to the very essence of yourself.

Being surrounded by something so passionate and deep works quickly to heighten your mood once more. The sea of uncertainty parts for serenity’s peak, the fake smile becoming real, and the way Derek’s surprising attitude had shifted your mood is washed away.

Out of nowhere, a server comes over to the table with a tray full of everyone’s exact orders, seemingly confident about the table number. She smiles at you, but your brow furrows with confusion.

“Oh, these can’t be for us, I just bought drinks,” you explain, confusion painting your face even more, bottom lip jutted out ever so slightly and a small wrinkle in between your eyebrows.

“No, no, they are! That guy over there just ordered them all for you. Don’t worry, he didn’t touch them, just bought ‘em,” the server explains, pointing to none other than Derek Morgan, sitting at the bar.

All of the girls’ heads whip over to look in his direction, finding the man sitting on a bar stool next to his friends, but his attention isn’t on any of the guys. Instead, his gaze is on you, a soft smile playing at his lips, watching expectantly. For what, you don’t know, but it seems shady. If you know anything about Derek, it’s that he doesn’t do things that don’t benefit him directly. God, it’s almost too predictable, sending drinks to a table of pretty girls, hoping to luck out and get some.

Clearly, your own friends don’t share the same sentiment, because there’s a chorus of ‘awh’s once they recognise him as Derek. None of them have met him before, but they’ve seen pictures, having stalked each of the BAU members after your transfer request had been accepted.

The birthday girl says your name, almost as if you’d personally offended her, while hitting your arm lightly. For a moment, you’re afraid Derek sending you all drinks genuinely did offend her, but she’s speaking before the worry takes root.

“You didn’t tell us he was hot! My god, look at those muscles,” she raves, rolling her bottom lip beneath her teeth while staring at him past your head.

“Hot? You’re kidding, right? He’s awful.”

“He just bought us all drinks! That’s not awful, that’s lovely.”

“No, but he’s not actually like that. It’s just a ploy!”

“Not everyone has ulterior motives. I think you’re letting all that crime stuff get to your head.”

“You don’t see him like I see him, he’s really no-“ she cuts you off.

“Can I go for it? Am I his type?”

You actually have to bite back a scoff at that, because anyone that breathes is basically Derek Morgan’s type. He’s not good enough for your friend, not for any of them, but you know her well enough to see that she won’t listen to a bad word you say against him now. Truthfully, you’re resigned, you don’t care, it’s her choice. If she wants to make the bed and share it with him, she can lie in it, too.

“You’re stunning, of course you’re his type. Be my guest,” and the second the words are out of your mouth, she’s walking over to him like a lioness about to pounce on her prey.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

For the rest of the girls, two drinks becomes four, then shots, and before they know it they’re slurring their words, no longer making any sense. Of course, you’d come out tonight to celebrate your friend’s birthday, to have fun and let loose, but you also know that at least one of you needs to be somewhat sober.

Not to say you’re entirely sober, because your inhibitions are definitely a little loose, but it’s the kind of drunk that reduces your filter and boosts your confidence. You’re still in full control of yourself, just maybe not your mouth. Or your bladder’s strength, ever since you broke your seal.

Walking back from the bathrooms through a larger crowd than there was before isn’t too difficult, but the singer on stage now is semi-famous in the jazz world, so people are treating the bar like a concert, standing in your way. Succeeding in your mission to get through the crowd, your speed picks up once you’re in the clear, the clack of your heels becoming more frequent.

In your rush back to your friends, you aren’t properly taking in your surroundings, gaze trained on the table to ensure they’re all alright. Thus, you’re quickly met with something hard, prompting your foot to slip, and you stumble backwards.

A large hand reaches out quickly, grabbing your hip to stabilise you and resting there to make sure you’re alright.

“Watch your step, pretty girl,” the hand says and you know the voice too well, the nickname slipping off of his tongue like it’s nothing, and suddenly your eyes are on Derek Morgan’s face once more.

How fucking embarrassing.

“Oh gosh, ‘m so sorry, I didn’t even realise,” you rush out, not even thinking about the fact that the man you have a massive issue with has his hand on your hip still.

“Don’t apologise. You can push up on me anytime you want to, sweet thing,” his voice is smooth, tone suggestive, and the smirk on his face is one you’ve seen plenty of times before. When he’s talking to pretty female police officers on a case, after he gets a girl’s number, when he’s talking about his rendezvous to Rossi at work. The fact that it’s being directed at you makes you feel a bit sick, to be honest, and it’s definitely not the martinis.

Any and all uncertainty you had about Derek Morgan’s character is gone in a flash, as is the serenity, and is instead replaced by an overwhelming fire of rage because he is exactly what you thought he was. He’s a pig, a disgusting one at that, and no small one off conversation, or him buying your friends drinks, or how good he is with kids, or how great he is at the job will ever change that in your eyes.

While the alcohol may not be making you feel sick, it’s definitely doing a whole lot for this rage, feeding the flames and giving you the confidence to finally give Morgan a piece of your mind. However, you still have some semblance of self control and so, you hold back a little, but not completely.

“As if, Morgan.”

“Pretty girl, you don’t gotta play hard to get.”

His arrogance drips from every word that leaves his mouth, seeping from his pores like sap from a tree. The fact he genuinely believes that you aren’t saying no, is so full of himself he believes your dismissal is you ‘playing hard to get’ enrages you even more, fueling the fire of your rage for the last time. Grabbing his hand on your hip and shoving it off, you start talking, tone as bitter as ever.

“I am not playing hard to get, Morgan. I simply do not want you.”

“Woah, sweetheart, what’s all the hostility for?”

“Because you’re a classic player! You have no respect for women. You just think they’re there for you to fuck and move on.”

“You know what they say - ‘Don’t hate the player, hate the game.”

“No. I do hate the player. You’re a self centered, egotistical, whorish bastard who doesn’t see women as anything but notches on his fucking bedpost. You don’t have any fucking respect for anyone that isn’t beneficial to you. People are not pawns in your game, women are not queens waiting to be conquered. Grow the fuck up, Morgan.”

Your words wiped the stupid smirk right off of his stupid face, left him speechless and expressionless, like a deer in headlights. Like your words, you left him standing there too, heading back to your friends at the booth. You were right. It was immensely gratifying.

tags: @darkmatilda

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moralesluvr · 6 hours ago

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FABLE AND TRUTH 6 | billie eilish

୧ ‧₊˚ love was the law & religion was taught…. ↳ summary: you had always been raised on being poise, feminine, classy. but what was most important to your family was your religion— and it had embroidered itself into your daily life. but when it’s time to pick between feelings and faith, which will you choose? pairings & aus. billie eilish x fem!reader warnings. religious backgrounds & guilt | mature language | sexual content | substance use author's note. back to my regularly scheduled programming…trying to upload everyday. i’m so excited about this series and what’s in store; enjoy !! wc. 12k

✧ 4:26 am, thursday ✧

billie’s pacing felt like an endless, drunken mess, the soft padding of her socked feet on the hardwood floor the only sound filling her quiet bedroom. every step was wobbly, uneven, the thuds of harder steps sinking into the floor. her phone sat on the edge of her desk, lit up and buzzing as her thumb hovered over the call button, swaying, like even it didn’t know what it wanted.

her chest was tight, like she couldn’t get a full breath no matter how hard she tried.

“god, this is so stupid,” she slurred, a bitter laugh bubbling up and spilling out, “so fucking stupid.” her voice cracked halfway through, and her giggles fizzled out into silence.

she ran a hand through her hair, tugging at the ends as if the dull ache in her scalp could distract her from the mess inside her head. the fight played on a loop in her mind, the words that you had thrown at her cutting deeper each time she replayed them. i don’t want you. at all.

“fuck,” she muttered under her breath, stopping mid-step and leaning against her desk. her fingers curled around the edge, gripping it tight enough to make her knuckles bleed white. she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to will the memory away, but it was no use.

because the thing was— she did know you. at least, she thought she did. she knew how your hands trembled when you were nervous, how your eyes darted around the room when you were thinking too hard about something, how you bit your lip when you were holding back words that you weren’t ready to say.

but now? now, billie wasn’t so sure anymore. had she been wrong about you? had she pushed too hard? maybe you were right— maybe billie didn’t know you the way she thought she did. and that realization was almost worse than the fight itself.

she tried to really think through how you were feeling, but everything was so unclear. you go out with her, kiss her, and then run off like nothing happened? she tried to hear you out, but things weren’t making sense. she felt like you were projecting, like there was something else underlying your irrationality, but she couldn’t pinpoint it.

oh, how sorry she felt. billie felt like she had did you wrong, like she should’ve been more careful, more understanding. but she knew that she couldn’t change what she did, what was said— it was all too late now.

she really liked you, if that wasn’t obvious enough. but given the way you placed your faith above anything else, the way that you carried yourself, she knew that deep down, you could never be interested in someone like her. and she couldn't blame you, she just didn’t fit into your lifestyle.

she didn’t mean to make you feel like she was wrecking your morals, but she couldn’t stop herself. her crush blossomed when you two talked, and even more when you didn’t. because then, her imagination could roam. she could think of a world where she belonged in yours, where you two were absolutely inseparable. she could pretty much ponder about whatever she wanted, and if she thought long and hard enough, she could convince herself it was real.

she had only met you shy of a week ago, and that was the bad part. usually, billie was more stoic, careful with what she said and did. she couldn’t let herself fall to easily, but it was like she was starstruck by you.

and she hated it.

she hated that everytime she got around you, she couldn’t get that stupid grin off of her face. she hated that when you touched her, even if it was on accident, her skin would light up, identical to the way her eyes did when she looked at you. she hated that your opinion was the only thing that mattered to her— but most of all, she hated how much she didn’t hate you.

because, in reality, she should. you hated her back, and that should’ve been a good enough reason for her to hate you, right?

wrong.

she wanted to chase after you, no matter how many times you’ve told her to stop, to let you go, pushing her away. she was drawn to you no matter what you did to her, and that’s what billie despised. whatever you did, said, however you acted— it was never enough to get her to stop.

but a little sliver of her understood. she knew deep down that it was just how you were— a faithful Christian and a girl who hardly believed, how was that going to work?

it was just the principle, she thought. it was just how things were going to be. but at the same time, she wished you would at least try. try to let her in— she wouldn’t hurt you, and she was certain that you knew that. you just weren’t brave enough to give it a try.

and then, she was angry.

angry at how you stormed off, after you were the one to kiss her. she was angry at how you pretended like everything between you was just friendship, but billie saw the way you looked at her when you thought she didn’t notice. yeah, she saw that.

she saw everything. and it made her even more upset, because how could you just walk away, after everything that had happened?

billie chewed on the inside of her cheek, her gaze flicking to the phone again. her stomach twisted at the thought of pressing that button, of hearing your voice again, of maybe making things worse. but she had to try. she couldn’t let it end like this, not after everything. it was too easy to give up, and she wouldn’t have it. she needed to make things right.

just call her, she told herself, but her fingers wouldn’t move. her head was loud, so loud, her thoughts a jumbled mess of regret and anger and confusion. she needed answers, needed to understand why things had unraveled so fast, why you had kissed her and then pushed her away so violently, all in the same breath.

and, if she was being honest with herself, she needed to know if there was still something left between you two. if the thread that had always connected you hadn’t completely snapped, if there was something worth saving.

billie took a deep, shaky breath and reached for her phone. her eyes hovered over your profile picture, your pretty smile illuminating her screen. she almost broke at that, and she shook her shoulders to try and shake it, her thumb hovering over the call button for a second that felt like an eternity. then, with a quiet exhale, she pressed it.

she held the phone to her ear, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure it would drown out the ringing. once, twice, three times— it felt endless. and just as she was about to lose her nerve and hang up, the call connected.

“…hello?”

your voice was soft, hesitant, and billie’s breath caught in her throat. she clenched her jaw, trying to steady herself, but the cracking in her hushed breathing gave her away. she could feel the tension on the other side of the line, and she almost spoke to break it, but then she heard a voice.

“no, dude— hang up!”

“shit.” was all she heard you say before the line went dead.

billie almost lost her mind at that, and she threw her phone harshly onto her bed, cursing underneath her breath. it didn’t take a genius to know who was talking in the background, obviously it was emma.

so your friends hated her, too? what else was new?

she sat down on the edge of her bed, her hands dragging through her hair, fingers curling at the roots. the sting in her scalp didn’t compare to the tightness in her chest, like her ribs were caving in on her lungs. her jaw ticked, her gaze locked on the phone lying motionless on the bed. it just sat there, mocking her, your contact still opened.

“unbelievable,” she muttered, the word heavy with frustration. her mind wouldn’t stop replaying it— emma’s sharp voice, that venom-laced “hang up.”

of course, it was emma. always hovering, always protective, like some unspoken barrier between you and everyone else. billie got it— she really did. emma was just looking out for you. but that didn’t make it any less maddening. it didn’t make the rejection hurt any less.

her knee started bouncing as she leaned forward, her elbows on her thighs, her head in her hands. every second of that call was burned into her mind, every pause, every breath, every muffled sound from your end.

why? why couldn’t you just talk to her? why did you have to listen to emma, let her speak for you like you didn’t have your own mind?

but then, in the quiet of her room, another thought crept in, unwelcome and sharp. maybe you don’t want to talk to her. maybe you really mean it when you say you don’t want her.

the thought twisted in her gut, and she stood up abruptly, pacing the room again like it would help, but it really didn’t. nothing did. the same questions looped in her head, over and over, no answers in sight.

she wanted to be mad at you, to hold onto the anger, but it didn’t stick. because she knew. she knew how you looked at her when you thought she wasn’t paying attention, she knew the way your voice got quieter, softer, when it was just the two of you. she knew the way your lips lingered just a second too long when you kissed her.

and maybe that’s why it hurt so much. because she couldn’t be making all of that up. could she? could she really be the only one who was feeling like this? was everything unrequited, or were you just afraid?

billie eventually stopped pacing, only because her legs were aching from doing so. her hands found themselves on her hips, her eyes fixed on her phone like it might come alive and give her the answers she was too afraid to ask for. but all it did was sit there, silent, just like you.

“why’d you kiss me if you didn’t want me?” she mumbled, her words thick, slurred. her voice cracked again, and she let out a shaky breath, “why’d you—” she started, but she couldn’t finish. her throat tightened, and she felt the tears spill over, hot against her flushed cheeks.

billie found herself sinking onto the floor, curled up in her own frame, trying to keep her emotions at bay and her swirling mind at rest. but she was too tired of thinking, too tired to try and make things seem rational. she was over it, over everything.

she thinks back to the night that she first met you, though everything’s kind of choppy. she thinks about when she told you that she didn’t really believe in getting drunk to solve your problems, or to pretend that things were better then they seem. but now, it seems like those morals aren’t as strong as they were.

she fumbled for the bottle of tequila she’d left on the floor, her fingers slipping a few times before she managed to grab it. the glass was almost empty, but she tipped it back anyway, the last dregs burning slightly as they slid down her throat.

“god, i’m such a fucking mess,” she said to no one, her giggles bitter and hollow. she wiped at her face with the sleeve of her hoodie, but it didn’t help much, because tears still streamed down her cheeks.

you were all she could think about. you, with your stupid soft voice and your stupid pretty face and your stupid everything. it wasn’t fair. it wasn’t fair that you got to live rent-free in her head while she was falling apart over you.

her phone buzzed again, and her head snapped toward it, her heart lurching in her chest. she scrambled to grab it, almost dropping it in her drunken haste. but when she saw the screen, her stomach sank. it wasn’t you. of course it wasn’t.

“why won’t you just talk to me?” she asked aloud, though you weren’t there to hear it. her voice cracking again, “why won’t you just tell me how you feel?”

sobs shoot through her body, and she’s sure this is the hardest she’s ever cried before. but she couldn’t help it. with the help of the alcohol that was coursing through her veins, plus the confusion and the fight, it was all she could do.

she cries until her eyes are too tired to form more tears. she cries until her eyes are drained and her throat is scratchy, and she finally sits up, her back slumped against the wall.

her chest heaved with each deep breath that she took, her hands trembling as she gripped the phone like it was the only thing tethering her to reality. the screen dimmed, and she stared at your name, willing it to light up with a call, a message— anything. but it didn’t. it stayed still, cold and indifferent, mocking her desperation.

“what the hell is wrong with you?” she muttered, her words slurred. she wasn’t sure if she was talking to herself or to you anymore, to be honest.

“why do you— why do you get to walk away like that? like you didn’t…like you didn’t kiss me first. so fuckin’ rude.”

her grip on the phone tightened, her jaw clenching as her tears dried, replaced by something hotter, angrier. she pushed herself off the floor, stumbling slightly as she paced the room again. her head was spinning, from the alcohol and the heartbreak, but her anger was sharp and steady, a beacon in her haze.

“you kissed me,” she said aloud, her voice louder now, more forceful, “you kissed me, and then you acted like— like it didn’t mean anything. like i didn’t mean anything.”

her fists curled at her sides, and she kicked the edge of her desk in frustration, wincing as the sharp pain shot through her foot. but it didn’t stop her, it didn’t even slow her down. she kept pacing, “you’re so fucking unfair,” she hissed, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. “you—ugh!”

she turned to her bed, grabbing the nearest pillow and throwing it across the room with all the strength she could muster. it hit the wall with a dull thud, but it didn’t satisfy her, didn’t even come close.

“why are you like this?” she yelled, though careful not to wake any of her neighbors up. her voice cracks again, “why do you get to mess with my head, make me feel like…like i’m not enough?”

her knees wobbled, and she sank onto the sheets of her bed, her hands burying in her hair. the anger drained as quickly as it had come, leaving her exhausted, empty. her thoughts spiraled, looping back to you, always to you. the fight, the kiss, the way your voice had trembled when you said her name.

and then— quickly, her mind wandered, unbidden, to the bar. to the way your lips had curled when you threw that sharp, biting remark at her. to the way your eyes burned with frustration, your voice rising in a way she’d never heard before. and— god, the way you had sworn at her, the first time you’d ever done that. it shouldn’t have made her feel the way it did, but nevertheless, it did. she hated how hot it was, how the word rolled off your tongue like a challenge, like a dare.

“billie, would you just shut the fuck up?”

yeah, she was whipped.

billie groaned, her hands dragging down her face as she pulled her navy blue covers over her frame. the ceiling spun above her, and she fluttered her eyes closed, but that didn’t really help. all she could see was you. your lips, your eyes, the way your hand had brushed hers whenever she was patching you up in her car. it had been such an innocent touch, but it had set her skin on fire, left her wanting more.

she cursed under her breath, her mind betraying her as it conjured up images of you. not the angry, distant version of you from the fight, but the softer, quieter version. the one who laughed at her dumb jokes, her teasing nicknames, it was all you. you who leaned closer than necessary when you spoke, who looked at her like she was the only person in the room, which always made her feel better, way warmer, even if your intentions were innocent. she thought about the version of you who kissed her like you meant it, like you wanted her as much as she wanted you.

her breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest as her thoughts grew more vivid, more dangerous. she could still feel the ghost of your lips on hers, the way your fingers had curled into her jacket like you didn’t want to let go. she wanted to believe that version of you was real, that it wasn’t just a figment of her drunk, desperate imagination.

“shit,” she whispered, her voice barely audible as she threw an arm over her face, trying to block out the images, the feelings, but it was no use. they kept crawling back into her conscience, no matter how hard she tried to kick them out. you were everywhere, in every thought, every breath, every beat of her pounding heart.

she hated how much she wanted you. hated how, even now, after everything, she couldn’t stop craving your touch, your voice, your laugh. hated how her body betrayed her, how the memory of you swearing at her sent a shiver down her spine, made her stomach twist in that familiar, dangerous way. it made her whole body set ablaze, tingles and rushes of adrenaline tangled within her nerves.

billie’s arm slid off her face slow and choppy as she let out a long, frustrated sigh, staring blankly at the ceiling that made her eyes spin. her thoughts were a mess, tangling and then untangling, looping back to the way your voice sounded— sharp, angry, and utterly captivating. she hated herself for it, for how much she liked the way you challenged her, even when it hurt her.

she shouldn’t like it this much.

you were always so calm, so composed, so measured in everything you did. but at the bar, you were raw and unfiltered. the way your lips had pressed into a thin line, the way your eyes blazed with frustration— it wasn’t something she’d ever seen from you before, and gosh, it did something to her. it was like you had cracked open, showing her a side of you that no one else got to see.

“get it together,” billie muttered to herself, running a hand through her hair. but it was useless. her mind was already spiraling, drawn back to the memory of you leaning over the table, your voice low and heated as you argued with her. there was a fire in your eyes, a passion she hadn’t expected, and it had set something alight in her, too.

and that kiss. man, that kiss. she could still feel it, the way your lips had pressed against hers, hesitant at first but quickly growing bolder. it wasn’t soft or sweet— it was urgent, messy, like you were trying to pour everything you felt into it. like you were saying all the things you couldn’t put into words.

billie groaned, turning on her side as heat crept up her neck. she was drunk, sure, but even she couldn’t blame the alcohol for the way her thoughts lingered on you. on the way your hands had trembled slightly when you kissed her, the way your breath had hitched when she pulled you closer.

she couldn’t blame the alcohol, because this wasn’t the first time she had these thoughts.

her chest ached with memory, a mixture of longing and regret swirling inside her. she wanted to be angry, to stay mad at you for storming off, for listening to emma, for acting like she didn’t matter to you. but she couldn’t. because deep down, she knew that wasn’t the whole truth. she knew there was more to it, more to you.

maybe that’s what scared her the most. not that you didn’t care about her, but that you did— and that you were too afraid to let yourself feel it.

“you’re such an idiot,” she whispered out, though she wasn’t sure if she was talking about you or herself. maybe both.

her cheeks flushed, a baby pink hue finding its way onto her cheeks, playing on her features like some sick game. she was way past embarrassed, but she was alone, and it didn’t seem as bad as it really was.

without thinking, billie sank deeper within the cushioning of her bed, her fingers grazing over the hem of her gingham shorts, her breath hitching. she stopped for a second, trying to think hard about what she was doing, but the alcohol forbade her from staying on track.

eventually, her mind couldn’t help but wander, identical to the way her fingers ventured down her thighs, grazing them with her fingertips in a slow, vertical fashion, until she made it back to the scrunched waistband. and with swift movements, she slid her shorts off of her legs, pushing them through the covers until they found themselves on the floor.

billie took her sweet time, at first, just toying with the outer corners of her lacy black panties, pulling at the semi-circle flowers on the ends. she closed her eyes, letting herself drown in all the events of the night, the heated flirting, the way you had kissed her so passionately in the passenger seat.

she shouldn’t be thinking about you like this, not after everything. not after the way you walked out, leaving her standing in the middle of that bar, a mess of confusion and longing. but deep down, she couldn’t let go. she liked the fuel, like a moth to a flame, she was drawn to you. she couldn’t help herself.

she couldn’t help the way her hands moved to slide her underwear down to her ankles, kicking the article of clothing off and down to the floor, along with her discarded shorts. a sudden rush of cool air made her let out a small gasp, the breath low and sultry as she pulled the covers closer.

she wouldn’t ever admit it out loud, but billie was always easier to turn on when she was drunk. and with recent events, it wasn’t helping the heat that was burning in her lower abdomen.

she traced a finger over her sensitive core, and then adding another, before pushing her slit open slowly, webs of wetness latching onto her fingertips as she let out a cool, choppy moan.

this was awful, so very wrong— to touch herself while thinking about you, especially now. but you didn’t have to know, no one did, and that’s the logic she used to satisfy her greed, her hunger for you, her constant need to see you, touch you.

billie spread her legs as she slipped her fingers inside of her warm cunt, the digits stretching out her walls sweetly as her thumb latched onto her clit, rubbing tight and firm circles against it. every thought of your pretty face, of your tooth-aching sweet smile, your precious eyes— that was what fueled her to keep touching herself, to feel those ground-breaking tingles against her exposed skin.

she bit her lip, her hips bucking underneath her satin sheets as her fingers thrusted quicker into her pussy, though her movements were choppy and uneven— it still felt good. she kept thinking about you, unashamed now, your face etched into her memory as she fought to keep her moans at bay.

she thanked the heavens that she didn’t have a roommate.

beads of sweat formed onto billie’s back as her head sinks into her pillow, little whimpers passing through her reddened, plump lips, her movements quickening as she felt a tight knot from in her stomach. images of you flashed against her mind, like gasoline to a fire, stoking up the adrenaline that was entangled in her veins. her fingertips curl and graze against her sweet spot, angelic moans falling thin and weak in the air as she moaned out, little syllables of your name rolling off of your tongue.

it was so bad, but it felt so good. she was needy, eager, and that was obvious in the way that her hips lifted off of her covers, her hands sliding in and out of her wet pussy, her eyes fluttering closed as she felt her orgasm crash over her like a warm wave. she panted heavily, her movements slowing down, along with her breaths.

billie placed her back against the sheets and let out a long, unsteady breath, her eyes finding themselves at the thought of what she just did. but she’s too drunk and too exhausted to care, and she figures that she’ll deal with the repercussions tomorrow. so she flips onto her side, pulls the covers over her, and falls asleep.

✧ 11:05 am, saturday ✧

the dorm was alive with energy, the kind that only comes on a lazy saturday morning when no one’s in a rush to be anywhere. sunlight streamed in through the half-open blinds, casting soft patterns on the carpeted floors as the group sprawled out in various spots around emma’s and your small room. naomi was perched cross-legged on your desk chair, spinning lazily while scrolling through her phone, one earbud in. jules was on the floor, back against the bedframe, fiddling with the frayed edges of her ripped jeans while flipping through some fashion magazine. oliver had claimed the beanbag in the corner, his long legs stretched out in front of him as he leaned back, relaxed. and emma— well, emma was laying half asleep underneath your covers, waking every once in a while when someone would say something funny, and then she’d lay back down.

you sat on your bed, legs tucked underneath you, careful not to disturb emma. your hands clasped around a warm mug of tea, a small comfort, the heat grounding you as your thoughts buzzed louder than the conversation around you. everyone was talking about their plans for the day— emma wanted to hit the library for an upcoming paper, oliver was trying to convince naomi to come with him to a record store downtown, and jules was debating between joining them or staying behind to binge a new show. after individual plans, though, jules insisted that you all hang out and go roller skating, something that the five of you liked to do pretty often.

“you’re quiet this morning,” naomi said, her voice cutting through the noise as she turned her gaze toward you.

your head snapped up, startled, and you forced a small smile, “i didn’t sleep well at all. just exhausted.”

it wasn’t a lie, you truly hadn’t slept well at all. after the bar fight with billie just shy of three days ago, you weren’t really feeling all that great. you hadn’t talked to her since, and it was both a relief and extremely nauseating.

you missed her, deep down. but you knew it was an absolutely horrible idea to reach out, and start this sickening process all over again. you were making small but victorious progress, and you really didn’t want to take any chances at ruining that.

after the fight, you woke up with a headache that made you feel like your forehead was going to split wide open. you threw up twice, your throat burning as you had finally wiped your lips, standing above the toilet and flushing it. emma had held your hair back for you, giving you tips on how to never throw up when hungover, at least for a lightweight like you. but if you were being honest, it didn’t really interest you to get drunk ever again.

you had prayed and did Bible study for what felt like an eternity. you didn’t hear God speak, but you figured it was because you had strayed off your path, so the fault settled on you. but you wrote in your notebook diligently, said your prayers thoughtfully, and skimmed the pages of your devotionals carefully. in due time, no matter what was going on, you were sure He would answer.

you even called loretta, as you had missed one of your calls when you fell asleep. she was just calling to check in, and she could tell even through the phone that you were doing at least a little better.

you had to admit, you were proud of yourself for getting back on your feet. or, so it seemed.

it appeared to everyone else like you had somehow become completely fine. and you had, for a solid…five minutes. but, of course, all the doubts and ‘what-ifs’ began to creep back in.

you weren’t sleeping well at all, which was the first issue. you’d stay up glued to your studies or scrolling on pinterest until your eyes were burning and your skin was sweating from the constant tossing and turning. and when you finally would fall asleep, you’d wake up with headaches or your limbs tense and unstretched.

you didn’t have the slightest bit of energy to do anything, either. you were doing just enough to keep A’s in all your classes, neglecting most of the extra work that your teachers assigned, only taking the extra mile when absolutely needed.

but you were masking it well. you took small victories when you could, although, you felt a little empty. you were tighter with your friends, hanging out almost everyday, mainly as a healthy distraction. but sometimes, all you really wanted, was billie.

you fought tooth and nail not to pick up your phone and call her. to spill every detail of your life out to her, to update her on how things were, even if they weren’t good. it was killing you that you couldn’t speak to her, even if it was a decision that you had made.

you didn’t like that you had the upper hand in this situation. you wished that it had fell back on billie, because although it was selfish, you really wished that you could have one less thing on your plate. deep down, you honestly wished that you had never met her at all.

you were doing fine until she came into the picture. though you knew she didn’t mean you any harm, you were picking up the pieces that she caused to crumble, making you spiral and act irrational, something you would’ve never thought about doing in the past.

but it wasn’t all her fault, you couldn’t put the blame on her. you were there too, and you had to take ownership of that, even though it was hard.

jules and naomi had raised an eyebrow at your statement like they didn’t quite believe you, but they didn’t press. instead, the both turned her attention back to oliver, who was now trying to win the both of them over with promises of coffee and pastries in order to go record shopping with him.

you tried to focus on their loud, happy chatter, to let it pull you out of your own head, but it was no use. your thoughts were stuck, looping in a way that made your chest feel tight.

you thought about two nights ago, about coming out.

the words lingered in your mind, heavy and sharp. it wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it recently, you had, a lot— but thinking about it and actually doing it were two very different things. and with naomi and jules sitting just a few feet away, laughing and joking like nothing was wrong, the weight of it all felt unbearable.

emma and oliver already knew, and were doing exceptionally well at hiding it. they understood that it was something you would share when you were ready, and they vowed to keep quiet about it. naomi and jules were wondering about the awkward tension that was taking place before, as you weren’t texting or calling pretty much at all. but emma just shrugged it off, covering by saying you were going through a rough time and just needed a second to breathe. which, wasn’t all that false.

you glanced at them, at the easy way they moved through the world, at how free they seemed. naomi, with her loud, unapologetic laugh and her wild hair that framed her face like a halo. jules, with her sharp wit and soft smile that could disarm anyone in an instant. they were your bestest of friends, and yet, the idea of telling them felt impossible.

it wasn’t that you didn’t trust them— you did, more than anyone. but there was this nagging voice in the back of your mind, whispering all the worst-case scenarios, how’d they react. what if they didn’t understand? what if they looked at you differently? what if it changed everything?

and then there was your faith, tangled up in all of it like a knot you couldn’t undo. you’d grown up in the church, surrounded by sermons and scripture and songs that painted the world beautifully, but it was in black and white. you’d been taught that love was normal to desire, it was healthy, but only when it looked a certain way, fit into a certain mold. anything outside of that was wrong, sinful, unworthy.

you swallowed hard, the taste of the tea suddenly bitter on your tongue. it wasn’t that you didn’t believe anymore— you still did, in your own way. but reconciling your faith with who you were, with how you felt, was a battle you fought every single day, and it was hard to keep on track, if you were being completely honest.

“you okay?” naomi’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you looked up to find her watching you, her head tilted slightly in concern.

“yeah,” you said quickly, forcing another smile. “just zoning out. i need to get out of this dorm room.”

she seemed to accept that, nodding as she turned back to oliver, who was now listing off his favorite bands like his life depended on it.

you let out a quiet breath, grateful for the reprieve, but still feeling the weight in your chest.

emma caught your eye from across the room, her expression soft but questioning. she always seemed to know when something was off, even if she didn’t say it out loud, which was needed sometimes. it was one of the reasons you’d told her first, days prior, in the quiet of this very room. she’d taken it well, better than you’d expected, and you were thankful for that. but even her quiet support wasn’t enough to silence the doubts that clawed at you.

the conversation in the room shifted again, this time to lunch plans, and you nodded along when someone suggested the diner a few blocks away, your group’s spot. looks were shared between all of you, and it seemed like everyone had remembered that night that billie came in. but when you smile, and assured them that it was okay to go, they carried on. but your mind was still elsewhere, caught between the fear of staying silent and the terror of speaking up.

you wondered what it would feel like to finally let it out, to let them see all of you. would it be freeing? or would it be just as heavy, just as hard, but in a different way?

“alright, you sure you’re good?” emma asked quietly, leaning closer so only you could hear.

you nodded, your grip tightening around your mug as you took your last swig, the warmth making you feel slightly more at ease, “i’m okay, really,” you said softly, “i’m honestly just… thinking. you know how it is.”

she didn’t push, just gave you a small nod of understanding before straightening up again, making sure to include you in the conversation between the five of you.

“alright, i really think we should just go skating,” jules advocates from her spot on the floor, closing her magazine, “we all love skating. why don’t we do that?”

“because naomi here is like bambi on wheels.” oliver snorts, pointing to the purple-haired girl, and she gifts him a well-deserved, playful slap to the arm.

emma nods, “i don’t think skating’s a bad idea, i’m down. everyone’s already ready, so, when are we heading out?”

“just need to get dressed, and then we can go.” you say, pulling the covers off of your frame, standing up and heading over to your dresser. you fumble around for something to wear as the four behind you discuss what’s for lunch, and things of that sort. you eventually settle on a jean skirt and a white top to match, with a baby pink cardigan thrown over it. you turn around and show the group your outfit, holding the pieces up to your body to provide something to the imagination, “this cute?”

“adorable!” naomi grins, and the others agree, too, and oliver gives you a sweet thumbs up, which makes you smile. you grab your phone off of your desk and slip into emma’s room, since you figure that changing in there would take less time than walking to the bathrooms.

you close the door behind you, and you look around for a second. emma’s room is a complete contrast to yours— cheetah printed blankets, posters of lana del rey and other singers hung up on her walls, right next to her deep red electric guitar and shelves of different sneakers and expensive handbags. she had a bookcase dedicated to anything but books, it was mostly filled with perfumes, fashion mags, and candles. her desk was a mess, makeup everywhere, and trash anywhere but in the bin, but you admired her style. it was an oddly warm comfort to you, the difference of style, and that’s what you always loved about emma— she was so unlike you, and yet, you two were the perfect set of friends.

you found her mirror and stood in front of it, slipping off your matching pj set and quickly sliding today’s outfit on. you fixed your hair and toyed with the ends, curling them around your fingers to give their already kinky state a little bit more bounce.

when you were satisfied with your appearance, you twisted the doorknob and stepped out, doing a little twist for the group as they all cheered. you felt more welcomed than ever— appreciated, accepted, and you wanted it to stay like that, like how it always was.

but with this huge secret (although it wasn’t so huge, because emma and oliver knew), you didn’t know how long this would last. you were going to latch onto it as long as you could, hoping and praying that when the time came, you would still be loved as you were, before everything went down.

you knew your best friends, they wouldn’t really care all that much, but it would just be so unexpected coming from you. were you ready for that, truly? were you ready to live out the things you had always felt? you weren’t too sure now.

you walked back over to your desk, slipping your nearly dead phone into your bag as you leaned against the edge of it, trying to find some sort of calm. the room was filled with chatter, naomi arguing with jules over whether or not they should try the new sandwich spot downtown or stick to the diner, and oliver chiming in with some random fact about artisan bread that seemed nice to try. emma was scrolling through her phone, half-listening but still throwing in a laugh here and there. it was so normal, nothing out of the blue, but you felt this strange ache in your chest.

you thought about how emma and oliver already knew that you were a lesbian, how it had felt like peeling off a bandage and exposing something raw when you’d told them just a few days ago. emma had hugged you tight, whispering that she was proud of you, and oliver had just nodded, his usual soft, understanding smile on his face, cracking jokes back and forth with you. but then, that night after billie called you, it all hit you like a wave.

you didn’t mean to hang up so abruptly. you wanted to hear her out at first, but you quickly realized that it wasn’t a good idea. emma had urged you to hang up, and you did with no hesitation, suddenly realizing that answering in itself was a mistake.

it wracked your brain for the rest of the night, and it bothered you badly that you couldn’t talk to billie. you felt like at least one more conversation could help, but it was too late for that, and you had to put yourself first. so you put your phone up for the night, falling asleep not to long after emma did.

and then, you cried.

but not about billie. about your friends.

it wasn’t even that you were scared of rejection. you knew naomi and jules loved you like family, and you couldn’t imagine them turning their backs on you. but it was the shift you feared— this tiny, delicate balance being thrown off, even if just for a moment. you hated being the reason things felt different. you hated the idea of anyone looking at you like you were someone else now.

your fingers toyed with the strap of your bag as the thought settled in your mind like an unwelcome guest. it wasn’t fair, really, how much weight this little not-so-big secret carried. it was supposed to feel freeing, like shedding an old skin that didn’t fit anymore, blossoming into something new, and much more beautiful. but instead, it felt like walking on a tightrope, praying you wouldn’t fall and drag everyone else down with you. you couldn’t let that happen again.

emma’s voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to the moment. “you okay?” she mouthed, her brows knitting together slightly. it’s all she seemed to ask now, but you appreciated the sentiment. you nodded quickly, offering a small smile to reassure her, but the way she tilted her head told you she wasn’t convinced. she didn’t push you, though, she just gave you that look that said i’m here when you’re ready.

and you wanted to be ready, for all of it. for the conversations, the questions, the vulnerability, all the jokes that would be cracked. you wanted to be able to say everything with confidence, to look at yourself in the mirror and feel like you weren’t hiding anymore, like you were proud to be just the way you were. but there was still that small, stubborn part of you that whispered, what if you’re wrong? what if this isn’t who you’re supposed to be? is a phase, something that will pass when the time comes?

you pushed the thought aside, swallowing hard as you forced yourself to focus on the present. the laughter in the room, the warmth of your friends, the way everyone was bickering about oliver’s odd knowledge about sandwiches and bread. you let yourself laugh, even if it felt a little hollow, because you were sure, slowly yet surely, it would make you feel better.

you’d hold onto this moment, this fragile, fleeting sense of normalcy. you’d hold onto it for as long as you could, and when the time came to tell them, you’d trust that naomi and jules would still love you, still see you the same way that they always did. at least, that’s what you prayed for. and lately, that was all you could do.

“okay, so are we ready to go, or are we gonna argue about sandwiches all day?” emma said, rolling her eyes with a grin as she grabbed her keys off of your nightstand, standing up to dust off her wide legged jeans. naomi and jules were still in a heated, albeit playful teasing sesh against oliver, and he was just sitting on the arm of the couch, shaking his head at them.

“for the record,” he interjected, raising his hand like he was in a courtroom, “the sandwich shop idea isn’t bad. but if we’re talking about lunch and activities, why not just roller skating now? we can grab lunch and still get dinner at the diner. there’s that rink a few blocks from here, and they’ve got a food court with, you know, options. not just flavorless-ass bread that’s probably already stale.” he gave a pointed look at naomi and jules.

“skating?” you repeated, “okay, yeah, i’m down.”

“me too,” emma said, already grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder, “besides, i can’t wait to see naomi bust her ass out there. wouldn’t be the first time we’ve seen that, hm?”

naomi gasped, clutching her chest dramatically, “okay, excuse me! i have impeccable balance, so thank you very much.”

“uh-huh,” jules snorted, already pulling her jacket on, zipping it up as she let out a mocking laugh, “we’ll see how long that lasts when you’re out there, bambi.”

the group laughed as you all filed out of the dorm, everyone grabbing their belongings as you closed and locked the door behind you, and then the walk started. emma, jules and naomi walked up front, while you and oliver retreated to the back, following close behind them. you heard easy banter filling the air as you all walked outside, stepping out into the cool air, though the warm sun gave hints of a warmer afternoon.

“how are you feeling?” oliver asked you as you walked, his eyes glancing down to meet with yours. they were glossed over with concern, but it was out of love, so you spoke honestly.

“good, overall, i think. i really have no complaints— i just…you know. i get into my own head sometimes.”

oliver nods at you, “i get that. just remember, i’m always here if you need something, ‘girlfriend.’” he nudges your arm on that last part, and you shake your head at him, though you can’t help but laugh.

the walk to the skating rink was a short one, but it was peaceful. occasionally, everyone would turn around and talk, and jules would sometimes snap a picture of a cool tree or pretty flowers on her digital camera. you stayed toward the back of the group, letting their energy pull you along while you kept to your thoughts.

when you all arrived at the rink, the hum of retro music and the buzz of people skating hit you instantly, accompanied with the smell of pretzels and store-bought pizzas. the place had an old-school charm— bright neon signs, colorful lights that reflected off the fresh, polished floor, and rows of skates lined up behind the counter as employees waved the five of you in.

“this is gonna be so fun!” naomi cheered, her face lighting up as she clapped her hands together. she then looked at emma, who seemed all but convinced that naomi would stay on her feet, “and just for the record, i’m gonna be the best one out there. no questions asked.”

“uh huh, yeah— you’re really committed to this narrative, huh naomi?” emma teased as she slipped a ticket across the counter in exchange for her inlines, “we’ll see how you do, but don’t cry when i’m doing laps around you while your ass is super-glued to the floor.”

everyone laughed at that as they grabbed their skates, and you were last to do so. you grabbed a pair of quads and took a seat on the bench, slipping them onto your feet carefully. emma was already up and skating around, practicing whatever tricks that she had hidden up her sleeve.

whenever she had to clear her head, she’d go to the rink— something she had been doing since she was younger. that’s where you learned how to skate, from emma’s constant visits to your rink back home, and it felt like that you had a hobby you could both share.

when everyone was ready, the group shuffled out onto the rink, the polished floor gleaming beneath the flashing lights. it was awkward at first, your legs feeling wobbly and unsure as you gripped the railing for support. it wasn’t that you didn’t know how to skate, it had just been so long, but you picked up your pace when emma and jules grabbed both your sides and forced you out onto the floor.

“you got this!” jules had said, and then you three were off, hands laced within one another’s, skating rhythmically to some old song that was playing on the speakers above.

“look at you!” emma called out, gliding up beside you with ease after you and jules had broke off, skating at your own pace. you were twisting and turning like you usually did, the art becoming more comfortable to you, and you were enjoying yourself. “you’re not even holding on to the wall anymore! i’m so proud.”

“yeah, yeah,” you said, laughing as you pushed off your right food little harder, gaining more speed with each loop around the rink, “just don’t jinx it.”

everyone was pretty much skating alone now. you were doing your usual thing, crossing your feet and gliding side to side to the music, which was always fun for you. emma was on a roll— skating backwards between crowds of people, hopping on her feet, taking her party tricks to the extra mile. jules and oliver were racing, as they always did— and of course, jules won, also as always.

meanwhile, naomi was loudly declaring herself the queen of skating, much to jules’s amusement as she stumbled and nearly fell. you tried to contain your laughter, but you had to admit, it was pretty funny the way she swore up and down she was the best out of the group, though she hadn’t even found herself making a full lap around the floor yet.

you were skating peacefully as a new song came on, something by stevie wonder, which you liked. you started to slow down and accommodate to the blue-sy rhythm, but then, as you rounded the far side of the rink, your eyes caught a figure near the edge. your breath hitched in your throat, your heart dropping to your stomach. it was billie.

God, could you ever get away from this girl?

she was sitting on a bench, tying her skates with that familiar furrow of concentration on her face. her hair was pulled into one of the messiest buns you had ever seen, even for her, though a few pieces effortlessly accented her face around the sides. she was wearing a loose sweatshirt and a pair of shorts so long that you couldn’t tell if they were supposed to be like that. but, to your surprise, she was alone.

panic flared in your chest, and if you weren’t as comfortable with skating, you were sure that you would’ve fallen. your mind was racing as you quickly turned your head away, trying to keep her from seeing you. the last thing you needed was another interaction, another moment where she could belittle you, looking at you with that stupid grin that never seemed to leave her face, like she was always teasing you for something.

you skated past her as casually as you could manage, your heart pounding in your chest. you felt like you were going to burst, like your breath was stolen right out of your lungs. you heaved as you looked in front of you, where your friends were still laughing and teasing each other, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in your stomach.

you felt sick.

you risked a glance over your shoulder, relief washing over you when you saw that billie hadn’t noticed you. she was still focused on her skates, completely oblivious to your presence. which, you definitely wanted to keep it that way.

you tried to focus on your friends, on the way naomi shrieked as she nearly toppled over again, after falling nearly ten times already, but she was saved only by oliver’s quick reflexes as he grabbed her arm.

“you owe me for that,” he teased, smirking at her as she tried to compose herself, tucking a strand behind her ear.

“whatever, i was totally fine. i could’ve gotten back up.” naomi huffed, wiping a few particles of dust off of her shirt as she stood up.

“sure you were,” jules said, rolling up beside her, her grin wide and mischievous, “next time, maybe we should get you those little kid trainers, you know, the ones with wheels on all four corners? seems pretty fitting if you ask me.”

“you’re all so mean to me!” naomi cried dramatically, though the laughter bubbling in her voice gave her away. she didn’t mind that she couldn’t skate all that well, truthfully, but it was always fun to mess around for a while.

the lightness of their banter helped ease some of the tension in your chest, and for a moment, you let yourself get swept up in it. emma had started a race with jules now, the two of them zipping around the rink in an uncoordinated blur, while oliver stayed back with naomi, coaching her like a patient older brother, though she still wasn’t quite getting it.

you skated in slow, deliberate circles, careful not to look in billie’s direction again. you didn’t want to tempt fate, not again.

but it wasn’t just fear that made you keep your distance. it was the weight of everything you’d been trying to leave behind— the fight, the tears, the way her voice still lingered in your head, sharp and biting, but also soft in ways that made your chest ache.

you couldn’t reminisce on that though. you had to stay focused on what really mattered, and it wasn’t billie. it was you, your happiness, your walk with God, and everything else that surrounded that. you didn’t have time to pick more stupid fights with her, when she would not and could not ever understand where you were coming from.

“you’re doing great, by the way,” oliver called out, snapping you out of your spiraling thoughts. he had left naomi with emma, though her coaching wasn’t as gentle. your eyes immediately find oliver’s as he skates with you, and you cock your brow at him, still nervous.

“what…what do you mean?” you ask.

oliver rolls his eyes, “i saw her. the others didn’t, and don’t worry, i won’t snitch. but just ignore her, for your own sake. you deserve nothing but peace right now, so don’t let her disturb that.”

“right, yeah.” you nod, but it sounds weak, even to your own ears. you’re just moving, fighting for a distraction, focusing on finding a steady rhythm again. the music shifted to something slower, softer, and the lights dimmed slightly, casting the rink in a warm glow. couples started pairing off, holding hands as they skated together, little holographic, neon hearts sliding against the wooden floors.

“ugh, so cute it’s disgusting,” emma squeaked, skating up beside you and nodding toward one particularly affectionate pair to your right. they were adorable, two girls holding hands and skating identically together. however, it made your chest cave in when one girl was wearing bright, pretty soft hues, while the other was wearing deep blacks and purples, a huge contrast to her girlfriend.

it felt like you and billie, in a way, and you almost gag at that. it seemed like everything reminded you of her, and you didn’t know how much longer you could take it.

“don’t be a hater,” jules chimed in, coming up on your other side, an easy distraction. you ease up as she teases emma, “maybe you’ll find someone to hold hands with one day, em. miracles happen, i’ll make a phone call to the angels for you, see what they can do.”

“very funny,” emma said, rolling her eyes. “i’m holding out for someone who can actually keep up with me, thank you very much.”

“wait, what happened with that guy i saw you with?” you questioned, hoping that the conversation would flow in a way that would make you forget about seeing billie.

“oh gosh, where do i even begin,” emma dragged on, and that’s when you knew that your plan was in motion. she babbled on about how he was a player and had no common sense, and something about how she didn’t like that he had bed covers with patrick mahomes’ face on it. which, you really didn’t know what that had to do with anything, but you just let her talk.

but then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw her again. billie.

she was on the rink now, skating slowly, her movements a little awkward like she wasn’t used to it. she was smiling, though— a small, quiet smile that tugged at something deep in your chest.

a smile that you missed.

you swallowed hard, your heart pounding loudly in your chest all over again. she still hadn’t noticed you, thank God, but just seeing her was enough to unsettle you completely, working your nerves right back up.

“you good?” emma asked you, nudging your shoulder lightly.

“yeah,” you said quickly, though your voice was too high-pitched to be convincing. you cleared your throat, forcing a smile out as you turned a corner, “just... distracted, i guess.”

emma tilted her head, studying you for a moment, but she didn’t ask anymore questions, “well, let me know if you need a distraction from your distraction.” she said with a wink before skating off to join the others.

you stayed where you were, finding refuge in a wall, letting the others drift ahead. your gaze flickered to billie again, despite yourself, and you wondered— just for a second— if she was thinking about you, too. if she had seen you.

but then she turned, skating toward the far side of the rink, and you quickly looked away, pulling your hair over the side of your face in hopes that she wouldn’t recognize you, if her eyes had somehow found their way to make out who you were, even though you were on the complete opposite side of the roller rink.

you skated to the edge of the opposite wall, trying to put as much distance between yourself and billie as possible. your heart was still pounding, your thoughts racing as you fought the urge to look back over your shoulder, to get one more glimpse, even though you knew you’d regret it.

so you didn’t. because the last thing you needed was for her to notice you.

but then, a sharp pang of anxiety hit you. what if she did see you? what if she thought you were alone, vulnerable, still hung up on everything that happened between you two? it felt irrational, but the idea of her pitying you— or worse, thinking she still had some sort of hold over you— made your stomach churn. you couldn’t let her have that type of victory over you. you were in control, not her.

your eyes scanned the spot that you were in, and then you spotted oliver across the rink, helping naomi wobble along the railing. relief washed over you— oliver was the perfect shield, the one person who could make you look completely unbothered and perfectly fine. after all, he was supposed to be your ‘boyfriend’ now, wasn’t he?

you pushed off the wall, skating toward him as steadily as you could.

“ollie!”

he turned around when he heard your voice, his face lighting up when he saw you, “hey, what’s up?”

you skated up beside him, lowering your voice so only he could hear, though your request wasn’t all that abnormal, “okay, this is going to sound weird, but… can you hold my hand?”

he blinked, tilting his head, “uh, sure? what’s going on? is it…?”

you hesitated, glancing over your shoulder to make sure billie was still on the far side of the rink. you looked back at him, “yeah,” you whispered quietly, “and i just— i don’t want her to think… you know, that i’m…”

“still hung up on her?” oliver finished your dead sentence for you, his expression softening with understanding.

you nodded, biting your lip, “i just need her to see that i’m fine. better than fine, even. like… totally over it.”

he smiled gently, reaching out to take your hand. “yup, fake dating duty. got it.”

you felt a small wave of relief as his hand slid into yours, warm and steady. oliver gave it a reassuring squeeze, and you squeezed back, grateful as ever for how quickly he reacted, how eager he was to help you with no complaints.

“you owe me for this, by the way.” he teased as he started skating beside you, his tone lighthearted, and you knew that it was only jokes.

you snorted, “yeah right. just put it on my tab.”

naomi shot the two of you a curious look as you passed her idle spot next to the wall, “okay, wait, are we holding hands now? did i miss something?”

“we’re practicing for the couples skate,” oliver said smoothly, his tone so casual that even you almost believed him. it was a good lie, one that would hold over your little secret until it forced itself out. and now, now wasn’t really the time for it.

naomi narrowed her eyes, but jules came barreling toward her before she could press further, their laughter echoing across the rink.

you felt a little more at ease now, skating alongside oliver, your hand laced within his. your heart still raced every time you thought about billie, about everytime that you saw her around the rink. but having him there grounded you, reminded you that you weren’t alone.

you cast one more glance toward the far side of the rink, where billie was still skating. her focus was elsewhere, thank God, it was on anything but you.

you exhaled softly, squeezing oliver’s hand again. he looked down at you, raising an eyebrow, “feeling better?”

“yeah,” you said quietly through a smile, “thanks, ollie.”

before he could pay your statement back with a ‘you’re welcome’, you hear jules, naomi, and emma all agree that it’s time to head out and grab some food. they had apparently decided that eating at the diner for lunch was a better idea, saving time to possibly go downtown or go somewhere for dessert and take pictures. so, you and oliver followed accordingly, hopping off the floor and returning your skates to the counter.

as everyone slipped on their shoes and grabbed their things, jules went right back to her teasing of naomi, “so, did you fall?”

“i’m too hungry to argue with you.” she laughed, sliding her tote bag onto her shoulders as the group made their way outside, walking to the diner.

౨ৎ

the diner felt like a sanctuary at first, a bubble of warmth and laughter that protected you from the turmoil brewing just beneath your skin. the clatter of plates, the hum of the jukebox playing some old 50s song, and the low din of chatter around you all made it easy to pretend, just for a little while, that everything was okay, even if it was nothing but that.

you were wedged between emma and the wall in your usual spot, picking at the remains of your burger while naomi recounted some story about her boss at work, who she thought was all types of dreamy. oliver and jules were hanging on her every word, laughing at all the right moments, and emma was chiming in with her usual quick-witted commentary. it should have felt normal, comforting, just like how it was in your dorm this morning. but it didn’t.

you couldn’t stop replaying the moment at the rink. the way billie had looked— so familiar, yet so distant. and, to be honest, it kind of bothered you.

it hurt that you would have to see her around so much, way more often than you would like. it’s like all your hangout spots were hers too, and it was inevitable to get away from her. but you had to try, at least— try and heal from your wounds, try and forget everything that had happened and turn a new leaf. and you knew it would be hard, but you were going to work on it, because you owed it to yourself. you owed it to yourself to be happy.

you were about to take another bite of your burger when the bell above the door jingled, and your heart dropped. you didn’t even need to look to know who it was. the shift in the air was enough. you had felt it before, back at the bar, and earlier in the roller rink. you knew it was her.

but of course, you being you, you looked anyway.

and there she was.

her presence was like a punch to the gut, a mix of anger, longing, and something else you couldn’t quite place. she looked almost the same as she had at the rink— disheveled, guarded— but her eyes were sharper now, the playful nature of skating long gone.

your stomach twisted and screamed as her gaze landed on your booth, just to your luck. her jaw tightened, her lips pressing into a thin line as her eyes locked on you.

“oh no,” emma muttered under her breath, her fork pausing mid-air, “are you serious?”

“is that…?” jules started, but oliver kicked her under the table, shooting her a warning look, and her lips pursed quiet at that.

you quickly looked away, pretending to be engrossed in the fine lines of ketchup bottle on the table, but it was too late. billie was already walking over to you, her strut quick and strong, like she already had what she wanted to say and do in mind.

“can we talk?” she said once she reached your table, her voice low and tight, standing awkwardly next to your booth.

you placed your head in your hands as everyone went silent, their eyes darting between you and billie like they were watching a live fight scene. and honestly, you knew that’s where it was heading.

but there was nothing you could do. you couldn’t escape, she was here now, so you might as well engage, because there was no other way out of this.

“you want to talk here?” you asked, your voice sharp.

“no,” she clarified, crossing her arms over her chest, “outside.”

“you don’t have to go, love.” oliver said, quiet, but loud enough to where billie could hear. he knew that you needed this— a way out, a cover-up, even if she wasn’t buying it right this second. you felt his hand brush against yours under the table for added effect, though he was unsure if billie could see you two.

but you knew you couldn’t avoid this forever. so, with a heavy sigh, you slid out of the booth, avoiding everyone’s longing and confused looks as you started to walk, following billie out of the door.

the late afternoon air hit you like a slap to the face, much like the way billie had strutted in the diner, demanding a piece of your time like she was the one that owned it. she stopped a few feet away from the entrance, her back to you as she ran a hand through her hair.

“okay, what do you want, billie?” you asked, crossing your arms to mirror her, “i don’t have time for this, be quick and get straight to the point. i don’t even want to be talking to you right now.”

lie.

she turned to face you, her eyes dark and stormy, “honestly, i just want to know why. why you couldn’t just talk to me. why you couldn’t just tell me what was going on, instead of doing all…of this.”

“are you serious?” you snapped, your frustration bubbling quickly to the surface, “are you seriously going to ask me this question again like i haven’t already answered it? what else do you want me to say to you? i told you to leave me alone, and i’m not so sure why this can’t get through to you, so i’ll say it again. leave. me. alone!”

her jaw tightened, and she took a step closer to you. her eyes were glossed over with tears, but you didn’t care at all. you were sick of her acting like she was the victim, like you hadn’t asked her countless times you just leave you be. at this point, she was just harassing you.

“i-i’m sorry…i know, but…i feel like you’re not telling me everything, y/n. i feel so deeply that there’s something you aren’t telling me, like i’m not getting the whole wide of this story…i just, i needed to know—“

“i don’t owe you explanations about my own life,” you shot back, “why can’t you just give up on me, like you did back at the bar? why can’t you just let me live my life without showing up at the most random times, without making me feel like i’m the one that’s crazy, huh?”

“give up on you?” billie repeated, her voice cracking. she was full on tears now, “do you have any idea how hard it was to leave? how much it killed me to walk away?”

you flinched at the raw emotion in her voice, but you didn’t back down. she couldn’t phase you now, “if it was so hard, why did you do it?”

“because i didn’t know what else to do!” she shouted, her hands balling into fists at her sides, “you wouldn’t let me in, and i was fucking drowning. i couldn’t keep—”

“couldn’t keep what?” you interrupted, stepping closer now, your own anger flaring, “couldn’t keep dealing with me? with my problems? sorry i wasn’t perfect enough for you, billie, but you knew what you were getting yourself into, it was obvious.”

“that’s not what i meant,” she said, her voice quieter now but no less intense, “and you know it. you know that’s not how i felt about you.”

“then what did you mean?” you pressed, your heart pounding in your chest, “i mean, do tell billie, because i’ve been waiting for this. tell me what you really wanna say, because you’re doing nothing but wasting my time.”

she opened her mouth to respond, but then her gaze flicked behind your back, back toward the diner. you followed her line of sight and saw your friends watching from the window, their faces a mix of concern and curiosity, leaning in so close in hopes that they could hear what was going on.

billie’s expression shifted, her anger giving way to something softer, something almost vulnerable, like she really was going to tell you how she felt. but just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by a mask of indifference, confusion, of something unsure.

“you know what? forget it,” she said, shaking her head at you, “this was a mistake. you were right.”

and then she turned on her heel without a word, and started walking away, her boots echoing against the pavement as she started towards her car.

“billie, wait,” you called after her, your voice trembling, but it was no use.

she didn’t stop. she didn’t even look back, and for the first time, you really wish she did.

you wanted to hear what she had to say, but you weren’t ready. you couldn’t handle all of that, but you thought you could at least try. but now, it was too late.

it was always too late.

you stood there, frozen, your fists clenched and your chest heaving as you watched her disappear into the driver’s seat of her car, cranking up the engine and speeding out of her parking spot.

your friends were still watching from the window, but you couldn’t bring yourself to face them. instead, you turned around and leaned against the wall of the diner, your head falling back as you stared up at the sky.

you wanted to scream, to cry, to do something about this, but all you could do was stand there, the weight of her words and your own anger pressing down on you like a weighted blanket.

and then, you heard the door to the diner swing opened, a voice pushing out into the empty air,

“i promise you, despite as much as you think you are, you and billie are far from done.”

send an ask to be added to my taglist !!

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beloveds-embrace · 1 day ago

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I’m sorry this is gonna be long but i was just listening to “Labour” by Paris Paloma and it reminded me so much of the angst DukeDom AU you are writing (which is absolutely fire, you are so good, i love it very very much)

Cause the “emotional torture from the head of your high table” part hit me so hard because that’s literally (in my head) John Price in your AU with how deliberately ignorant he became to Reader’s suffering.

“Who fetches the water from the rocky mountain spring? And walk back down again to feel your words and their sharp sting” it reminded me so much about the angst part where Reader catches cold and later looses limb. But also…Kyle (I’m sorry) because once you wrote that he brushed reader off and treated her like he couldn’t be bothered to answer her questions and yk my brain made connection.

And oh my god the “I’m getting fucking tired” verse of the song is literally (again, in my head, I’m not trying to say i know your AU better than you do, it’s your baby, I’m just having fever thoughts) Reader when she gets fed up with them.

I especially love the “The capillaries in my eyes are bursting. If our love died would that be the worst thing?” because it feels a lot like her when the fire inside of her starts to finally dim because everything has just been too much and she doesn’t handle it well, because her cookie duchy is crumbling on her head.

“For somebody I thought was my saviour you sure make me do a whole lot of labour” reminds me a lot about the way she probably arrived to the duchy at first, getting married to John and not knowing what was actually waiting for her. And in all honesty, it’s not her fault he married her. But it somehow became her responsibility once everyone’s (stuff, the rest of 141, John himself) disapproval and blatant disregard started to pile up.

“I know you’re a smart man, and weaponise the false incompetence, it’s dominance under a guise” which may not fit fully but the way i felt like reaching through the screen and shaking John Price sometimes because yeah, you brought Reader into your home, your duty was to care for them and take care of her and you DIDNT. And worst of all, you allowed others treat her like nothing.

“If we had a daughter, I’d watch and could not save her the emotional torture from the head of your high table. She’d do what you taught her, she’d meet the same cruel fate” and it’s purely my thought but what if in angst branch of your AU Reader was actually feeling glad that John never came to consummate the marriage thinking about fate that could meet her baby. Especially if it was a girl (oh my god, my Sheila).

“So now I’ve gotta run so i can undo this mistake. At least I’ve gotta try” reminded me a lot about your Reader running away in some parts of this AU because yeah, she was looking for different life (rightfully so) and the realisation that the things as they are might never change actually pushed her towards moving into entirely different directions.

I love love LOVE that song, so to have my writing compared to it in any way? 😩 I’m amazed, thank you so much for your thoughts anon!! 🫶🏻💕

#noona.asks

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mylovesstuffs · 22 hours ago

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100 Reasons Why I Love Seungcheol ! (a.k.a. S.Coups, Choi Leader, Carat Nation’s Dad)

1. The way he manages 12 chaotic kids (men) like a pro. Where’s his Parent of the Year award?

2. When he yells at them but immediately softens like a marshmallow.

3. His laugh can cure seasonal depression.

4. A visual.

5. His habit of acting like the maknae when he’s the eldest.

6. Petty Seungcheol is peak comedy.

7. When he tries to act cool, but the members clown him anyway.

8. His relationship with aegyo.

9. The way he thinks he’s subtle when being dramatic.

10. His iconic “Say the name!”

11. When he stands in the center like he owns the stage. (Because he does.)

12. His “I’m SEVENTEEN’s leader” energy.

13. That time he pulled off blone hair like a literal Greek god.

14. The way he stares into the camera during performances.

15. How he can make a single word sound like a life-changing declaration.

16. The emotional damage from his tongue plays.

17. His airport looks could rival a runway.

18. His tiny, proud smiles when the members achieve something. You can see the love in his eyes.

19. The fact that he knows exactly how to bias-wreck us.

20. How he’s effortlessly charismatic without even trying.

21. The way he protects the members like they’re his own brothers.

22. When he cried during their Daesang speech—who didn’t cry with him?

23. That time he comforted Jeonghan when he was sick, and our hearts collectively melted.

24. How he takes care of Carats.

25. The soft way he says, “Thank you, Carats.” (Excuse me while I sob.)

26. When he got emotional during their first win.

27. His little “fighting!” moments to cheer everyone up.

28. The way his presence alone calms the chaos in the group (most of the time).

29. The way he values teamwork over individual success.

30. His deep, gravelly voice that feels like a warm hug.

31. Knowing he’s been through tough times but came out stronger.

32. When he cried feeling unworthy of being the leader—Cheol, we’ll fight anyone who made you feel like that.

33. Seeing him push through injuries just to be with SEVENTEEN and Carats.

34. His constant worry about whether he’s doing enough.

35. That one hiatus he took, which made us miss him like crazy but as long as he's okay.

36. Knowing he carries so much responsibility on his shoulders but never complains.

37. How he always thinks of the members’ happiness before his own.

38. His bittersweet smiles during emotional moments—why must you hurt us like this?

39. The way he supports his members during hard times.

40. He cried more over Woozi's hard work than their first win.

41. His leadership is unmatched—period.

42. He’s the glue that keeps SEVENTEEN together.

43. His vocals are criminally underrated.

44. His stage presence is absolute legend behavior.

45. How he hypes up the members like their #1 fan.

46. The way he makes sure every member gets their moment to shine.

47. He’s a friend, brother, and protector.

48. His rap go hard.

49. The way he’s always looking out for the younger members.

50. He gives off main character energy without overshadowing anyone.

51. His pout—it’s a lethal weapon.

52. The way he drinks water like he’s in a CF.

53. When he flips his hair mid-dance. Yes, it’s a reason.

54. His Jigeumbuteo. Iconic.

55. His obsession with Shinchan—same, honestly.

56. The way he claps when he’s laughing too hard.

57. His habit of clinging. Mood.

58. That one episode of Going Seventeen where he was scared giggling and wrapping arms with Shua just because he's scared lol.

59. How he randomly lifts the members like they weigh nothing (especially Hao).

60. When he plays rock-paper-scissors like it’s a serious sport.

61. Seungcheol is the reason I now find men with leadership skills attractive.

62. He’s personally responsible for ruining my bias list every other week.

63. The amount of time I’ve spent analyzing his fancams is embarrassing.

64. His “leader line” moments with RM and Bang Chan.

65. How he’s secretly a softie who loves hugs.

66. He lives rent-free in my brain, and I’m not charging him.

67. The way I feel personally attacked by his selfies.

68. How he can bias-wreck me with a single smirk.

69. The way he hypes up other members on stage like a proud dad.

70. Why does he make me emotional over a simple “fighting!”?

71. He’s a role model.

72. The way he shows that strength can be soft and kind.

73. How he’s grown with SEVENTEEN from boys to men.

74. His love for Carats—it’s so genuine it hurts.

75. He’s proof that hard work pays off.

76. The way he balances being goofy and responsible.

77. His dedication to his craft—it’s inspiring.

78. How he takes pride in SEVENTEEN’s achievements without being boastful.

79. The fact that he’s never forgotten where he came from.

80. Knowing he truly cares about SEVENTEEN’s legacy.

81. His dimples.

82. The way he flips between being a charismatic idol on stage and a complete goofball off stage.

83. When he said, “I’m SEVENTEEN’s dad,” and it’s both funny and true.

84. How he radiates warmth, even through a screen.

85. His goofy side that he shows when he’s comfortable.

86. The way he makes everyone feel like they belong.

87. His deep, thoughtful words during interviews.

88. How he remembers even the smallest details about the members.

89. The way he leads with both his heart and his head.

90. He’s the definition of dependable.

91. He’s a leader who listens, not just commands.

92. His honesty.

93. The way he reminds us that it’s okay to take breaks.

94. He’s proof that vulnerability is strength.

95. How he brings out the best in everyone around him.

96. His endless love for music and performing.

97. The way he’s stayed humble despite SEVENTEEN’s success.

98. Knowing he’ll always have SEVENTEEN and Carats’ backs.

99. He’s family.

100. Because, honestly, there’s no one else like Choi Seungcheol.

#choi seungcheol #★— mylovesstuffs 100 reasons #Because every time I think I’ve fully explained why I like him #he does something else that makes me like him even more.#svt x reader #seventeen scenarios #scoups seventeen #seventeen seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol fluff #seventeen scoups #scoups #seventeen x y/n #scoups x reader #seungcheol x y/n #★— mylovesstuffs

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fenya-scribbles · 2 days ago

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Blind - Part 2

♥--------♥--------♥

Part 1

Pairing: Felix x fem!Reader

Other Characters: Jisung mentioned, Minho mentioned

Summary: The morning after.

Genre: fluff, friends to lovers

Content warnings: none, I think?

Word Count: 952

A/N: I couldn‘t not write a part 2 for this. :3

♥--------♥--------♥

Three things were immediately apparent to you when you woke up:

1. Your head was pounding. Whatever alcohol had been in that dammed cocktail - you did not handle the aftermath too well.

2. You were not in your own bed. Because you knew the feel of your own bedsheets. You knew the firmness of your own mattress. This was not it.

3. You were not alone in the bed, judging from the heat that was radiated from beside you.

With a groan, you turned your body to the side and slowly opened your eyes. “Good morning, sunshine.” Felix was lying beside you, facing you with a soft smile. His brown eyes wandered over your face, stopping at your lips for a second, before locking onto yours. “Sleep well?” You groggily looked at him, waiting for your eyes to adjust to the sunlit room.

“I’m in your bed”, you stated instead of answering him. You were not yet awake enough to feel any type of way about that, but saying it out loud made it just a bit more real. “You are”, he said with a soft smile. As your brain caught up with your current situation, your hands nervously started to play with the hem of the shirt you were wearing underneath the blanket. Which was not your own shirt, since you had worn a crop top to the party.

“What am I wearing?”, you asked, barely able to keep eye contact with Felix. “A t-shirt”, he mused. “Whose t-shirt?” He chuckled. “Mine.” „I‘m wearing your t-shirt?“ Felix chuckled. „You‘re really blanking on last night, hm?“ Blood rushed to your cheeks as you tried very hard to remember what had happened.

And it worked. Piece by piece the events of the night came back to you. How you’d fallen right into his arms. How he’d tried to get you to leave but you insisted to thank Ji and Minho. How Felix had to carry you to his car and then to his apartment. How you’d begged him to give you something more comfortable to sleep in and he’d helped you change, because you‘d barely managed to get your top off. How you’d asked him to stay instead of sleeping on the couch.

The more you remembered, the more you pulled the blanket over your head. You let out a sound of frustration and embarrassment, hiding beneath the soft fabric. “Hey, hey”, Felix said, voice low and calm, “don’t hide that pretty face from me.” You could feel your cheeks burning from how flushed they were. “Look at me, sunshine, please.” He gently tugged on your blanked and eventually, you lifted your head to look at him again.

For a moment, you just looked at each other, as if suspended in time. As if you were the only people in existence. And all you could see was his face, all freckles and sweetness, and a part of you urged you to just kiss him. Just make the move. Just let it all out. But you didn‘t, still afraid, still insecure. Not even sleeping in his bed, wearing his shirt, waking up next to him, made you brave enough to risk everything you had with him.

Eventually, he spoke again. “I meant to ask you”, he said, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face, “what did you want to thank Ji and Minho for yesterday?” You shivered slightly at his touch, so gentle it made you want to melt. “Nothing”, you said shyly. Felix just raised an eyebrow at you, clearly not believing your lie. “Fine”, you sighed, staring at his chest, unable to face him, “They told me you were trying to make me jealous.” You lifted your gaze again. “Were you?”

“Mhm.” Felix nodded, a playful smile on his face. “Why though?”, you asked, following that small nagging voice in your head that refused to believe the revelations made at the party. Felix giggled. “Because you’re absolutely blind, sunshine”, he explained. “What do you mean?” Felix put his hand on your cheek, gently brushing his thumb over your soft skin. “I’ve been flirting with you for months now.”

„You…have?“ It was hard to think clearly when the man you‘ve been in love with for years now touched your skin, lying close enough to take in his wonderful scent, saying things that had your heart clenching in your chest. And then he had the audacity to lean in closer. „I‘ve tried so hard to make you see it, sunshine“, he whispered and placed a featherlight kiss on your cheek, „but you‘ve been so busy trying to hide behind your insecurities.“ He placed another kiss on your other cheek. „When all I‘ve wanted to do all night yesterday was kiss you.“

It was as if your body was moving all on its own, throwing the nagging voice in your head over board as you captured Felix‘s lips in a soft, needy, desperate kiss. You could feel him smile into the kiss, could feel his arms wrap around you, drawing you closer. It was as if a weight was lifted from your heart, from your whole body actually. You felt incredibly light and incredibly safe, no doubt in you mind anymore about what was happening.

You didn‘t know how long the kiss lasted. It felt like forever and not remotely long enough all at the same time, but eventually both of you had to come up for air. When you did, you were smiling and panting, bodies still pressed together underneath the blankets. „Sorry it took me so long“, you said once you‘d caught your breath. „Sorry for making you jealous“, he answered, „now, can I make my girlfriend some pancakes?“

♥--------♥--------♥

Masterlist

#stray kids #skz #stray kids felix #skz felix #felix x reader #felix x female reader #stray kids yongbok #skz yongbok #yongbok #felix yongbok #lee yongbok #lee felix #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic

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gallawitchxx · 16 hours ago

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weekly tag wednesday thursday

thank you to @jrooc @energievie & @suzy-queued for tagging me in this week's survey! i'm a bit nervous to answer some of these questions in my current state of being, but here goes nothing!

name: bee

age you are mentally: probably 94

top 3 fics that came out last year (that you can remember at this point lol): 1. how to disappear: a traveler's guide for delinquents and miscreants by @deedala 2. the old habits universe by @whatthebodygraspsnot 3. the most delicious hitmen au as part of wanna go again? for kinktober 2024 by @wehangout

add in any authors who you read all of their things: oh my god, so many in addition to dee, ray & jen above - @crossmydna @catgrassplantdad @captainjowl @mmmichyyy @palepinkgoat @thisdivorce @whatwouldmickeydo @howlinchickhowl @iansfreckles @gardenerian etc etc etc WE ARE SO BLESSED

fave artist/band/singer/group your discovered last year (has to be new to you, not new): oooh trousdale! especially "if i'm honest," which is suuuuch a bop!

one thing you learnt last year that you’re taking into 2025: you have to advocate for yourself & you have to do it every moment of every day asldkj

was it a good year or bad year? 2024? it was a total trash fire honestly. also the good was very good! but mostly it was just Big Bad from beginning to end.

is there anything superstitious you do to try and continue that vibe or absolutely change it? hmmm, i mean, i am a witch, so there are plenty of altar spaces around. but i've also been leaning more on inner strength than external craft these days. so i guess i'd just say i'm going to continue being in really good, grounded relationship with myself?

fave WIPs you're following into this year: absolutely stealing deena's answer of notting hill by @darthvaders-wife - that comic? series? has me in a chokehold. as does deena's drabble series the lord & the footman.

are you doing any January ‘get healthy’ things? LOL this one's laughable for me because i'm very sick & literally broken & there's not much to do about it until some new doctors figure some new things out! BUT i am staying on all of my meds & resting & continuing to do things that light me up, while modifying them to my current state of being. but whew, idk if 'getting healthy' is what i'd call it alkdajl

more random questions ~~ did you consider yourself an avid reader before you found fanfic? omg totally. i'm a huge reader.

do you read books as well as fanfic? yes (but not as many as I used to!) or no: fanfic or die -- hahahahaldkj fanfic or die cracks me up, but i do read books in addition to fanfic, yes!

what are you doing to survive this january so far? taking things one day at a time, remembering to breathe, loving up on my wife & pup, writing writing writing, drinking water & good coffee, chatting with my pals, watching reality tv... i'm actually grateful for so much & surviving pretty well, all things considered.

tagging @heymrspatel @catgrassplantdad @whatthebodygraspsnot @whatwouldmickeydo @howlinchickhowl @gardenerian + whoever i tagged above + whoever wants to play! tag me! let me read about your coping mechanisms! i love you! xx

#i really do love this fandom #we are so well fed #weekly tag wednesday #tagged

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nopxxx · 2 days ago

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OK UPDATE I FEEL THE NEED TO SHARE THAT IS NOT RELATED TO BATMAN AT ALL AND IF THIS CHANGES HOW YOU SEE ME THEN MY FEARS ARE CORRECT AND I AM THE ASSHOLE, AND I SINCERELY HOPE I AM NOT. (this is basically a reddit post but I don’t have reddit so)

Ok so my friend and I went to see Mufasa in theaters yesterday and the people behind us were super annoying, I’m gonna get further into that.

We came in and sat down and all was well for moments, then a large family(4 adults, 3 kids) came and sat down behind us, and they were speaking a language I assume was either Ukrainian or Russian, which isn’t really relevant rn but it will be later

So the movie starts, and they’re still talking at a normal-leaning-loud volume, but my friend and I are thinking “oh they’ll quiet down soon enough”

They did not quiet down, as a matter of fact. The three kids, ranging what looked to be 4-7 were literally running all around the room, yelling and all of the things that small children do, and I’m not upset with the kids at all, my issue is with the ADULTS

The adults are still yapping(they never stopped) and one of them turned on their flashlight a few times and WHAT. Who does that. Anyways, the littlest kid starts calling for their mother, literally crying “Mama, mama, mama, mama” over and over again and GUESS WHAT? THE MOTHER DID ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. HER KID WAS THERE SCREAMING FOR HER IN A VERY PUBLIC SPACE, AND SHE JUST IGNORED THEM.

THAT REALLY BOTHERS ME. So the entire time the kids are obviously upset and don’t want to be there and the parents AREN’T EVEN WATCHING THE FUCKING MOVIE, THEY ARE YAPPING. ITS FINE TO DO THAT AT HOME, BUT IN A THEATER? Like I get small comments here and there, but they were speaking legit constantly

And when the small kids are sitting down, they’re kicking our seats or pulling on them, one of them even grabbed at my hair(or tried to, I moved) AND THE PARENTS DID NOTHING

Saying this again, I AM NOT, I REPEAT, AM NOT UPSET WITH THE KIDS AT ALL. THEY ARE LITTLE AND DESERVE SO MUCH ATTENTION AND AFFECTION AND THEY WERE JUST UNHAPPY. I AM NOT UPSET WITH THE CHILDREN.

Like, if the adults had been trying to keep them quiet, ANYTHING, then I wouldn’t be saying any of this. I understand having to look after a screaming child in public, and I know it’s not fun, but it is NEVER okay to just ignore your child like that.

I feel like if a kid is that little, you shouldn’t be taking them to the movies. Their little minds can’t really comprehend whats happening, and tbh there were some parts of the movie that I think could be frightening to a young child. A 7 year old I can understand, but a 3 to 4 year old doesn’t have the mental capacity for it.

So the movie ends and we leave, neither of us said anything to them(we were stupid and decided to bus around rather than drive and had to catch our bus)

So moving on to today, I was in my biology class right?(college), and it’s nearing the end of class and I decided to tell my deskmate about it, AND HE WAS LIKE “Well… it is a kids movie..” AND CALLED ME NATIONALISTIC, PROBABLY ONLY BECAUSE I SAID MAYBE THEY JUST DIDNT KNOW AMERICAN THEATER ETIQUETTE (yes, that is the exact word he used) and said that my friend and I should have just waited until it was released to streaming services.

SO LIKE AM I IN THE WRONG. SHOULD I NOT HAVE BEEN ANNOYED?

I just went and saw mufasa in theaters and the people sitting behind me were SO annoying like it was awful but it got me thinking, what would the batfam be like in a movie theatre?

I feel like they would

a) not go at all, or at least not as a family

b) be the LOUDEST most infuriating people in the room

or c) sit so quiet and still that it creeps out the people sitting near them. Like their expressions don’t change at all, they don’t utter a peep, no snacks or slushies, nothing, just silence. Then they leave the SECOND it’s over, all standing in unison

maybe I’ll make a fic of it

#rant post #sorry for the rant #aita #am i the asshole #movie theater etiquette #movies #innocent kids #bad parenting

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louisisalarrie · 21 hours ago

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I am relatively new to this fandom and I am already struggling with some things and I was hoping to get some perspective in the midst of feeling a bit discouraged. Do you ever struggle with admiring these artists who you know are lying to you and basically using manipulation tactics with the fandom? I have empathy for what these guys have gone through and can’t even imagine, especially so young. But especially with Louis, realizing that the Larry fans have stuck with him through so much and even through bbg (the ones who saw it for what it is), to just continue to be fed crap and seemingly pitted against other fans is just exhausting. And beyond a great super expensive concert, Harry seems completely disconnected and checked out. Concert Harry and public Harry are two totally different people (probably neither actually the real Harry) because of narratives and marketing and it just seems like everything is meant to be dissected and figured out and nothing is probably what it seems. And it really sucks to completely believe these are really great guys and believe that the situation is way more complicated than I can ever understand, yet still like I am just being fed bread crumbs that are supposed to be appreciation. I know as fans we are not owed all of them and they are absolutely entitled to a private life, but it just feels a bit like say nice things when we are convenient and spending money to attend shows and buy albums and leave us to deal with all the bullshit that goes with it on our own. Does this make any sense? I feel like it may sound a bit dramatic but it has been a long day :) I am just wondering if I am alone or being way to parasocial in sometimes feeling like this.

Heya!! no you’re not alone in this at all. And welcome to the fandom! <3

A lot of larries left when bbg happened. a lot of folks stopped tapping into any theories of Larry because like… it was harming their view on the boys and draining them of energy more so than just being part of the fandom which is meant to be a happy community supporting our faves. The disgust and clear closeting and stunts we’ve watched these boys go through just… makes my heart ache for them. But I can understand the frustration because it’s like… why can’t they do anything about it? Why are we still being lied to? When will it end? Why can’t I just enjoy my fave’s music without all this extra stuff on top of it?

And that is probably one of the biggest things about ending stunts is that you feel lied to. You’ve been sold a story for no other reason than money. You’ve been presented with this “authentic” image but really…. There’s more to it. It’s frustrating. Authenticity is just such a massive thing for artists these days. I know I keep hammering on about it but fr, it’s one of the best things an artist can do for their image, and for their wellbeing.

Rest assured though, we’re standing by their sides. We’re shouting from the rooftops. We’re reading laws and contracts and digging right in and learning and sharing info and it’s sooooo fucking cool. Obviously, a horrible circumstance, but do you know how many larries I got to know during 1d who now work in music? or are very well read in entertainment law and want to make a change? or are inspired to create safer spaces in fandoms? it’s a really cool thing off a very bad situation. but nonetheless, we have a community here, fighting for them.

Ending these stunts is no easy feat, either. It takes a lot of paperwork and a lot of damage control (depending on the story you’re going for), and a lot of convincing and maintaining relationships and losing money etc., and while artists are better without it… it’s just always gonna be there, one way or the other.

Larry was, and is, such a massive curveball to the industry. While yes a lot of artists have been closeted over the years, Larry was major in a turning point because of the fandom, the rise of social media (those two boys having access to their accounts and being sickly in love), and the rise of a different artist to fan relationship. Everything was recorded, gifs were made, we could directly message/tweet the boys, it was just… such a massively wild time, so the closeting came down really hard because it was unprecedented. SC was in entirely new territory, freaking out because they weren’t really aware how to take on alll these fans + social media. It was a mess. He panicked.

And every famous person has an image, a brand. It’s again, that fight on authenticity that people are yelling for now more than ever. Down goes the days of a whole fandom accepting something for what it is - we see through the bullshit, but it won’t just end. It makes money.

Anyway, it’s shitty but I’ve been here for a million years now and I, personally, can’t give up. I see a lot of yucky things in this industry firsthand, and when this all comes out, everything changes.

#anon #answered #uhhhh #mentions of #bbg #and like #I guess it’s a #louisisalarrie chats #too #<3

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yellowhollyhock · 2 days ago

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thinking about 07 kitchen scene and realizing Raph is trying to keep them off his trail. Like I knew that already, that's his whole thing, but the one moment where he really seems focused on it is 'Yeah, I do nothing. You're right. You got me all figured out.' Which come on Raph. could you be any more obvious

But

Mikey is watching Nightwatcher on the news. He can't come out and change the subject right away (too suspicious), but he needs to as soon as possible. He needs an opening, and Donnie gives him a perfect one. Nothing to keep his family's minds off Nightwatcher like starting a fight

Easy, effective. Has everyone's attention, enough truth in his words to keep them satisfied that they're seeing him. You guys are a bunch of has-beens, why do we sit around doing nothing all day. Leaves out enough obvious points (doesn't say he's mad about how everything came to a screeching halt when Leo left, doesn't have to) to keep their minds occupied: being upset about Leo is his cover story for Merryweather

Donnie gets right back on topic. 'What do you do that's so special.' This is where Raph felt painfully obvious, but actually. He knows how curious both Don and Mikey can be, knows he's dangling an irresistible mystery right under their noses day after day. So he gives them what they're expecting. The startled pause while he scrambles for a cover, the sudden backing down. He's not expecting Donnie to buy that. He's expecting Donnie to be so tantalized by the obvious cover-up that he over-analyzes and overthinks and assumes any number of things much less straightforward than what's actually happening. 'you already got this all figured out wink wink' is cheese under a mousetrap for Donatellos

It kind of works. The Nightwatcher isn't part of the conversation anymore. But Donnie's playing too. He knows there's more going on with him, and if 'figure this out' is Don bait, 'you just want people to be afraid of you' is absolutely Raph bait. Okay, so there are some things you haven't told us. But I bet you'll tell us if you have to defend your character. Go on Raph, explain what your real priorities are and how your actions aren't hurting the team.

and he does get angry exactly as expected but he doesn't blow up with the truth, he stays in control, and gets out of the situation quickly by going too far in earshot of Splinter.

also there is the aspect where part of him does want them to realize it's him but I don't have spoons to tear it apart quite that much

also I do think they already know but that's also a whole other post or two

#tmnt #tmnt 2007 #2007 raph #2007 donnie

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inquisitornocturn · 3 days ago

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NSFW alphabet no.14 - Calligos Winterscale

Do you not love Calligos? Can I change your mind?👀

Calligos was requested by Anonymous <3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

For most things not hunt related – Calligos expects to be served, and so he won’t be one to dote on you personally. No, he has serfs for that, so whatever you may need after ending up in a bed with him, he will have a person or two deliver it straight to the bedroom. That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t care how you feel, on the contrary, it’s much faster to order someone to bring refreshments if needed. Otherwise, he will be curious how are you, are you sore, but you have a suspicion that he’s asking only to hear how well he ravaged you, because otherwise he expects you not to break easily, so to speak.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Calligos imagines himself to be the epitome of masculinity, and nothing’s more masculine than appreciating your physical form that is toned and shaped by countless encounters with enemies from which he emerged victorious. So for body part it’s as simple as it gets – his cock has to be worshiped and he’s not shy or quiet about it either. But he really loves it when you appreciate his scars or his muscles, because he can tell you tales of his conquests for hours and will do so easily if encouraged. On his partner he prefers well rounded body parts. Wide hips, breasts and ass, or thighs, anything that he can grab handfuls of. And usually his mouth follows.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He absolutely loves when you are dripping with his cum or are covered in it. He also has a fascination coming onto your stomach and chest, enjoying watching how it covers your skin, rolls down the curves, you name it. You are his and Calligos wants to see you claimed in a way no one else gets to. On that note, coming into you just before you two have to go somewhere, and the knowledge that his seed is soaking through your underwear, reminding you of him with every step you take, brings him extra satisfaction.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He quite enjoys being dominated, although that’s something Calligos would be hard-pressed to admit. Sure, he will let you take control of the bedroom once in a while, playing it off as if it’s merely for his amusement, but in truth it heavily turns him on and while he wouldn’t exchange his own leading role during intimacy for this full-time, he still likes it when you occasionally take the dominant role and command the session as if he’s your mere slave.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s very experienced and that’s something he will boast about with full capability to back up his claims. Calligos even implies that he slept with a drukhari once, although you are not too sure if you should believe him. So in short, yes, he definitely knows what he’s doing, how, when and how far he can push you during sex.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

With you on your back, and your legs on his shoulders so that he can thrust as deep as possible. There are few things more satisfying to Calligos than bottoming out when having sex with you and generally, any position that allows this is what he will go for if possible. So yes, with you on your back not only he can achieve exactly that, he also can witness how you respond and how much you’re enjoying it. He also prefers to watch your body move and jiggle in all the right places as he plows into you and kisses can be administered later if needed, but during sex – Calligos wants to see you, hear you and feel you to the fullest. He treats it like a love letter to his sexual prowess and enjoys every single second of it.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

While Calligos is not averse to chuckles and lighter mood during sex, he much prefers you moaning and screaming his name than laughing. That doesn’t mean that he will be angry if you bring said lighter mood to the bedroom, but his satisfaction comes from a job well done and that job is leaving you utterly spent, sweaty and gasping for air. However, Calligos does enjoy lazy morning sex and so during those he will be more humorous than usual, excitement for a new day and what he can achieve during it bringing a more joyful mood in him.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

That man is proud of his masculinity, as already said, and one sign of a masculine man is his chest hair. And hair elsewhere. While he won’t be rocking a full bush, simply because it might complicate things with zippers, Calligos won’t spend precious time meticulously trimming every hair. Mainly, he keeps it tidy around his cock and it’s because it makes erection look great (and the aforementioned zippers). Everywhere else – it’s as God-Emperor created him. Granted, while Calligos is not paranoid about personal hygiene, used to spending weeks and sometimes months in less than ideal conditions for even grabbing a shower whilst pursuing one enemy or another, he still prefers to stay clean when he can. Although that might be least of his priorities when on a field of battle, however long that takes.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Calligos is a romantic, just not in a conventional way. He won’t be whispering sweet nothings into your ear during sex and he won’t be bringing you a cup of water or flowers afterwards. So when it comes to sex itself, he’s not the most romantic guy, but next time he drops a massive head of some beast he felled on a far away planet – that’s how you know Calligos is trying to be romantic, in his own way.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Calligos is not the biggest fan to jerk off himself, much more preferring someone else to take care of that for him and even more so – why masturbate when you can have sex. So he won’t be the guy seeking the privacy of his chambers just for the sole purpose of putting his cock in his palm. No, instead Calligos will be looking for someone to spend time with and alleviate whatever pressures he is feeling in that moment. Namely – you. And while he might do it once or twice when you two are separated and not able to meet up, it won’t affect much in how pent up Calligos ends up being by the time you have enough privacy to fuck. So buckle up, because he won’t hold back.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding is definitely a kink of Calligos, but a lighter version of it. He’s not going to be seeking out women to impregnate, nor he truly enjoys being around pregnant women, but with his partner, the sheer possibility of you bearing another heir for him is what turns Calligos on. He’s not obsessed with the kink either. While he is definitely a man who enjoys having progeny, he wouldn’t want you to be pregnant all the time, it’s mainly so inconvenient that he does not wish to incapacitate you in such way more than what you yourself want. But as the kink goes, he likes breeding in more of a “let’s pray pretend” kind of way. After all, he does enjoy filling you to the fullest.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

A soft, big bed is what Calligos prefers. That’s not say that he’s unwilling to fuck anywhere else, he very much can and will, but to him sex is about comfort and rewards of pleasure. So he prefers not to roll in the dirt or catch something from fucking in some shady alley. Bed is just comfortable and most importantly – no one will interrupt his time with you, which he hates when it happens. Now, while a bed is preferable, that doesn’t mean that any other furniture in the bedroom won’t be used as well as long as it has a suitable surface.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Calligos is a warrior at heart and biggest turn on for him is when you fight by his side, cutting through enemies as his equal. After-battle sex is very much a thing for him and even you recounting your fights for which he himself wasn’t present is a turn on for this man. To witness you win, to gather your own trophies, to command the troops and lead them into the battle – all of these things make Calligos hard and looking for first chance to fuck you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Any kind of joking at his expense or mockery in the bedroom will have him dressed up and gone within a matter of minutes. And if you don’t hold any status – that will get you executed as well. You don’t have to pick your words carefully around Calligos, well, not too much at least, but make sure that you don’t insult his physique or his physical prowess because that’s something he won’t be forgiving you any time soon, if ever.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Definitely receiving is what he prefers. Worship his cock, deepthroat it, choke on it, gag on it, make a mess out of yourself while you suck him off. It’s an immense satisfaction for Calligos to see you come undone just by having your mouth around his erection. Even better if you touch yourself during it, coming as he fills your throat with his cum. He’s less eager to go down on you, much preferring to fuck you, but that doesn’t mean that when he does find himself between your legs, he’s not enthusiastic about it. Calligos knows very well how to satisfy and while it’s not his first choice in how to make you come, it’s not something he shuns or avoids. It’s just not a priority for him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Calligos does not like to waste time and that goes for sex. So his preferred pace is on a faster side, but not really rough. Just fast, deep and hard. He’s not the type of man to want to leave bruises on your body or risk hurting you in a way that’s less than sexy, but he won’t be going slow because the friction is just not satisfying enough for him when it’s not on a faster end.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not a preferred way for Calligos to have sex, but he won’t avoid them either. Especially this becomes very true to him when after-the-battle yearning kicks in. Seeing you covered in blood of the enemies and disheveled after a fight is almost as good to him as seeing you in a similar state from being fucked by him. But that’s pretty much the only occasion where you can expect him to forego the idea of ravishing you thoroughly and opt out for something fast and short.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Calligos will experiment to a degree, just don’t bring any xenotech to the bedroom and it should be alright. Or, for that matter, any weird Ad-Mech tech either. In short, he won’t have you harmed during sex, and does not enjoy being harmed either. These are just not the risks that he is willing to take. Otherwise, Calligos is pretty open to most things at least once. Who knows what he will end up liking? And so, if you can present an idea to him interesting enough, he will be willing to try it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

While it’s already mentioned that Calligos likes to fuck on a faster side, he compensates shorter sessions by having more than one of them. Going twice in one night, sometimes thrice, is not out of the question, especially if he gets his hands on special stimms that improve his stamina. Which he sometimes needs if the battle was extremely exhausting but he still wants his reward. For him – the more sex, the better and he won’t shy away from improving his performance a little bit if the occasion calls for it. As long as you can keep up.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He definitely owns toys so that he can use them on you, simple as that. Not only that, Calligos likes to make you come more than once per night, as many times as possible, and that’s where the toys come in as he recharges between his own orgasms. Dildos, vibrators, other normal tech is something he is familiar with and will use. However, he is very much less willing to have toys used on him. A cock ring he might be talked into wearing, but that’s pretty much as far as it goes.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Calligos simply does not tease. Neither outside the bedroom or inside of it. He likes sex, he enjoys it, and he wants you to enjoy it too. He will edge you, however, and won’t stop you from edging him, but that’s as far as the teasing goes. When Calligos wants sex, he has sex, simple as that. Teasing sometimes does happen if you’re too exhausted at the moment to continue and he’s still ready, but that’s not a frequent occasion.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Neither very loud or silent, Calligos is somewhere in the middle when it comes to making noises. He doesn’t need the entire ship hearing what you two are doing, unless, of course, it is you who is screaming with pleasure. So he will grunt, and swear, and tell you how good you feel wrapped around his cock or with your mouth around it, but he much prefers it if only you hear such words and not his crew.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Despite his mild kink for breeding, Calligos loves anal. And especially if he has enough time to fill both your holes. But anal is quite a special treat for him and if you play your cards right, you can make him do almost anything for you with a promise of a special night together. There’s just something so satisfying for him to fuck you while watching your pussy drip and drool for him, as if begging to be filled as well. On that note, that’s why Calligos also loves when you use buttplugs. If he knows that you have one inside you during some very important meeting, now that will make him hard despite the seriousness of present situation.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Quite larger than average, pointing straight and slightly curved upwards, even girth throughout and has several scars from too close calls of losing his cock to a fight or a risky tryst. The color is a darker shade than rest of his skin and decently veiny as well.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty high sex drive. Calligos enjoys all the finer things in life, from leisure hunts, to best meals and drinks, and sex is one of the pleasures that he freely partakes in and does so often. He will also absolutely expect you to match him when it comes to libido.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Always boasting how he has stamina for days, to his own chagrin Calligos falls asleep quite fast. And it’s better you don’t tease him about it because he will be grumpy for days, thinking that you mock his prowess in all things physical. But even so, before he falls asleep, Calligos will have you in his arms. His most beautiful and precious conquest, the only pursuit that he didn’t even want to consider ending in failure. You’re his priceless prize and so in his sleep, he will make sure that you’re safe in his arms, where you belong.

#rogue trader #rogue trader crpg #calligos winterscale #calligos fic #my 40k fics

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