#if you really want to chew on this though

[dollkuna]

the digest. clingy bf sukuna who can't stand when you go out without him :(

sukuna has a hard time taking no for an answer. so, when you told him your saturday date would have to be rescheduled, he wasn't exactly thrilled.

in fact, for the entire week leading up to it, he completely dismissed the idea, acting as if there was no universe in which you wouldn't be going out with him.

"are you wearing the black dress for dinner?" he’d asked, just a couple of days before, his voice a low rumble beside you. it was as if you hadn't already clearly laid out your actual plans. "you look nice in the black dress."

"i am wearing the black dress, actually," you hummed back, flipping to the next page of your novel. he was snuggled beside you under the warm sheets, comfortable and completely oblivious. "not for dinner, though. for the party. the one i'm going to. like i said."

in response, you’d gotten an grunt, which you’d taken as acceptance, or at least acknowledgement. that's why it struck you as so utterly odd, how completely shell-shocked he looked on said saturday, watching you get ready for an event that clearly wasn't a date.

"ryo," you sighed, seeing the storm brewing in his golden eyes. "relax." no, you weren’t betraying him, as sukuna so dramatically put it; you were just heading to a friend’s birthday party. "i really can't not go. it's a birthday. it only happens, you know, once a year. we can absolutely go tomorrow."

he narrowed his brows at you, arms crossed over his chest like a petulant child. "relax? this is treason."

as you carefully put in your delicate earrings, you shot him a quick glance. "jesus, baby. i'll be back before you even know i'm gone."

for a brief second, a flicker of hope crossed sukuna's face. "and… i can't come?" your boyfriend looked absolutely adorable, pouting like that. you didn't dare point it out, though, not wanting to risk dampening his already fragile mood any further.

instead, you reached out and gently pinched his cheek, and he responded with a playful nip at your finger. "no, i'm sorry. it's really just a girls' thing."

"you won't even know i'm there," he insisted, his voice surprisingly earnest.

you couldn't help but laugh softly, tilting your head at him. "you're a 6'5, pink-haired man, dude. i think i'll know."

"don't call me that. and you don't love me," he muttered, turning his head away dramatically.

just then, your phone buzzed, and you knew without looking it was your friend. a quick honk from outside confirmed it – your ride was here, and you needed to leave. "don't be like that. you know i do."

"then stay." his voice was firm, unyielding.

"no."

"i knew it," he declared, a hint of self-pity in his tone.

"stop. okay, fine," you huffed, walking over to where he was still seated on the edge of the bed. you stepped between his legs, placing your hands on his broad shoulders. "i'll be back thirty minutes early."

his expression didn't change one bit. "stay."

"one hour early," you tried, chewing on your bottom lip, hoping to appeal to his logical side.

"stay."

throwing him a look, you squinted at sukuna. "do you even know how bargaining works?"

"stay." sukuna's poker face held as steady as ever, completely unbreakable.

you ran your fingers through his soft, spiky hair, a heavy, weary breath escaping you. "alright, fine. two hours early, and we can cuddle and watch movies after."

he paused, a tiny flicker in his eyes, like he was genuinely considering this new offer. then, he shook his head slowly. "stay."

your shoulders slumped, and you let out a long, theatrical groan. "you can pick the movie."

"deal." he'd won, and he knew it, a smug, triumphant look spreading across his face.

either way, you ended up coming home three hours early.

[bucketgetter535]

This is not a cry for help (but it might be) PART SIX

WC: 3k CW: Drinking ish? Notes: LOL what is up everyone. Plz send live reacts cause they're always so funny for this fic. Anywayssss enjoy. progress but slow. P is me.

Paige didn’t even mean to wake up early.

Actually, she was planning to sleep in. Like, full on cocoon in the blankets, hide-from-life, pretend-last-night-wasn’t-real kind of sleep. That was the dream. That was the move.

But of course her body was like nope! You’re a fun little ball of stress so enjoy waking up at 7:12 AM on a summer morning like a psychopath.

So now she’s awake.

And Azzi’s still asleep, which is probably a sign that the universe hates her. Because Paige is lying there, eyes open, staring at the ceiling and trying not to think about how close Azzi’s face is and how her hand is still sort of half on Paige’s waist like it lives there now.

She carefully (very carefully) gets out of bed.

Azzi shifts a little, but doesn’t wake up, which honestly feels unfair. Paige’s heart is still going dumb in her chest. Like she didn’t just wake up from the most ridiculous, intense fever dream ever. Like she didn’t fall asleep feeling… whatever that was.

Anyway.

Downstairs.

Katie is already there. Already dressed, already moving around the kitchen like a sitcom mom, flipping bacon and humming something that sounds suspiciously like one of those country songs Paife doesn’t really like.

“Morning,” she says, all bright-eyed and unbothered. Like it’s normal to have this much energy before 8 a.m.

“Morning,” Paige croaks, voice hoarse and slightly guilty sounding.

Katie smiles. “Hungry?”

Paige scratches her head. She’s still in her Azzi’s T shirt and whatever shorts she pulled on before leaving the room. Her hair’s a mess. She’s blinking like a mole seeing daylight.

“I mean… I guess,” she says. “Like… I could be?.”

Katie raises an eyebrow. “That sounds like a ‘no, but I know I should say yes so you’ll stop asking’ kind of answer.”

Paige flops into a kitchen chair. “Wow, you’re good.”

“I’m all knowing,” Katie says. “It’s a skill set.”

Paige rests her forehead against the table dramatically. “Can I get a pass for today? I had a long night.”

Katie snorts. “You’re fifteen. Your definition of ‘long night’ is probably giggling under the covers and watching TikToks.”

“Yup,” Paige says, because absolutely not. “That’s exactly what I was doing.”

Katie plates eggs and bacon like she’s feeding an army. Or a teen athlete. Which… yeah, okay.

She sets it in front of Paige and pours a glass of orange juice like the food police.

Paige stares at the plate. It smells good. It’s too good. “I usually skip breakfast,” she says, almost apologetic.

Katie’s already flipping the next round of eggs. “Not in this house.”

“That’s aggressive.”

Katie points a spatula at her without even turning. “So is hypoglycemia.”

Paige raises her hands. “Okay, okay. Geez. It’s like I’m in detention.”

“You’re in a kitchen.”

“Same thing,” Paige mutters, stabbing at an egg. “One just has better lighting.”

Katie smiles at her over her shoulder. “Eat, Paige.”

So she eats.

She eats because saying no would feel rude, and because it actually tastes kind of amazing, and because even though she doesn’t want to admit it, she’s starving.

They sit in this quiet kitchen rhythm for a while. The house is still. The sun’s barely up. There’s birds outside and whatever else people say when they’re in the woods and pretending life’s not complicated.

Paige kind of likes it.

Which is annoying.

Katie glances over at her as she refills the coffee pot. “You sleep okay?”

Paige shrugs, chewing bacon. “Define okay.”

Katie doesn’t push it. She just hums and hands her another slice of toast like Paige is a project she’s already committed to finishing.

Paige eats that too. Because whatever. She’s here now.

“You’re wild,” Paige says eventually, gesturing with her fork.

Katie gives her a look. “Because I fed you?”

“Yes.”

“Then I guess that’s ok.”

Paige hides her smirk behind her juice glass.

She doesn’t say thanks.

But she eats every bite.

–

Okay. Here’s the thing.

Paige Bueckers has a long-standing, private, and very justified vendetta against swimming.

It’s not that she can’t swim. She can. She learned when she was five, thank you very much, in a chlorinated YMCA pool that reeked of bleach and childhood trauma. But she just doesn’t like it. Never has.

Maybe it’s the way her hair sticks to her neck. Maybe it’s the stupid way swimsuits always feel too tight or too loose, but never actually right. Maybe it’s the water. Or the sun. Or the entire concept of recreational wetness.

Point is—Paige is not a swimmer. She’s a hooper. She belongs on the court, not floating around like a dumb leaf in a lake full of fish poop.

But here she is.

In a lake.

With Azzi.

And Azzi’s brothers, who have been cannonballing off the dock for the last twenty minutes like they’re trying to flood the whole state.

And Azzi. Let’s talk about Azzi for a second.

Because Azzi is in a bikini. A purple one.

And it should be illegal.

Like genuinely, someone should call the authorities. Because Paige is trying her best to survive this absolutely blinding amount of hotness while treading water and pretending she’s not seconds away from drowning in feelings.

Azzi’s laughing and splashing her brothers and then wiping water off her face like she’s in a slow-mo summer movie scene, and Paige has never felt more like a soggy rat in comparison.

Her sunblock is already failing. Her legs are too pale. Her hair feels gross. And she’s fairly certain there’s a piece of seaweed stuck to her ankle.

“Why are you standing like that?” Azzi calls, chest-deep in the water, grinning like a demon.

“Standing like what?” Paige shouts back.

“Like you hate this!”

“I do hate this!”

Azzi just laughs. Tosses her hair back and floats on her back like the most graceful human to ever exist.

“Come here,” she says.

“No.”

“Come here,” Azzi says again, voice playful but threatening.

Paige swims over like a loser.

They float near each other, and Azzi bumps her foot against Paige’s under the water, which is so casual and also not casual at all.

Azzi’s brothers are still yelling about something. Probably who cheated in their splash war or who’s banned from holding the pool noodle. Paige has tuned them out.

Azzi leans in a little. “I’m hungry.”

Paige squints. “We literally ate like two hours ago.”

“I know,” Azzi says, dead serious. “But I’m still hungry.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Come get snacks with me.”

“No,” Paige says immediately. “We’re wet."

Azzi tilts her head. “So?”

“So the inside is are dry and I’m not about to walk inside like a wet sandwich.”

Azzi raises her eyebrows. “Wow. You’re dramatic.”

“I’m realistic,” Paige says, treading water like she’s on trial. “Also this lake is cursed. My foot touched something and I saw my life flash before my eyes.”

Azzi is so not listening. She’s already swimming toward the ladder. She glances over her shoulder and calls out, “Paige.”

“What.”

“Come get snacks with me.”

And Paige groans because she can’t say no. She literally cannot. Even if Azzi didn’t just do the over-the-shoulder look like she was in a Disney Channel original movie, Paige would’ve followed her anyway.

“Fine,” she says, dragging herself out of the lake like a half-drowned cat.

Her swimsuit sticks in all the wrong places. Her hair drips straight down her back. Her foot crunches on the gravel and she knows her face is red from sun or blushing or both.

Azzi waits for her with a towel and that face. The one that says I know you’re annoyed and I’m enjoying every second of it.

Paige grabs the towel. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I hate swimming.”

“Fair.”

“I hate wet clothes.”

“Understandable.”

“I guess the snacks are alright though.”

Azzi grins. “Mhm. THat’s what I thought.”

They walk inside dripping water everywhere. Paige leaves footprints on the hardwood. Azzi heads straight for the kitchen, opens the fridge like she lives there (she does), and tosses Paige a juice pouch.

Paige catches it. “Are we five?”

“Yes,” Azzi says. “Now drink it.”

Paige does. Because it’s cold and fruity and actually slaps. She leans against the counter in her wet swimsuit, juice in hand, and side-eyes Azzi.

“You in that bikini is actually a hate crime.”

Azzi looks over her shoulder, deadpan. “File a report.”

Paige takes another sip. She’s not even sure if her heart rate is from swimming or Azzi anymore.

Probably Azzi.

Definitely Azzi.

–

The thing about sunburns is that they don’t hit all at once.

No, they sneak up on you. They let you float around in your false sense of “maybe I actually tan now” security. Let you feel like maybe this time will be different.

And then they burn you alive.

Paige feels it first when she’s drying off after her shower. That tight, itchy stretch across her shoulders. Her arms feel like they’ve been microwaved. Her nose is pink. Her neck’s mad at her. Her face is just straight-up betrayal.

Honestly, it’s deserved. Paige vs. The Sun has been an ugly rivalry since birth.

Azzi had already passed out the second they got back from the lake, full-on snuggled into her pillow like she didn’t just look illegal in a bikini all day. Paige wanted to say something dumb to her before crashing, but it didn’t happen. Azzi was too cozy, too asleep. So Paige just showered, changed into her comfiest oversized tee, and tiptoed her way downstairs in search of cold water and peace.

She’s halfway through grabbing a glass when Katie rounds the corner like she’s been waiting.

“Oh honey,” she says.

Paige freezes. “What?”

Katie points at her shoulder. “You’re toasted.”

“I’m fine.”

Katie gives her a look that says absolutely not, try again.

Paige sighs. “It’s not that bad.”

“Paige. You’re medium-well at least. Come sit.”

Paige shifts uncomfortably. She tugs her shirt down like that’ll help.

Katie already has the aloe out. Like she was born with it in her pocket or summoned it from the mom void. Paige considers arguing again, but honestly she hurts and standing sucks and she’s tired.

So she sighs and sits.

“I’m not taking off my whole shirt,” she says quickly.

Katie sits beside her with the aloe. “You’ve got a bra on, right?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Then it’s fine. I saw you in a swimsuit three hours ago. I just want to put some aloe on it, okay?”

That somehow doesn’t make Paige feel better, but she pulls off her shirt anyway, wincing as the fabric tugs against her shoulder blades. She keeps her arms tight to her sides. Feels very aware of everything.

Katie is gentle. Like annoyingly so.

The aloe is cold, but it’s a relief. And Katie doesn’t say anything at first—just rubs the gel in careful, slow circles over the worst spots. It stings a little, but Paige isn’t gonna whine about it. She already feels weird enough.

She stares at the kitchen tile and pretends it’s not vulnerable or whatever.

She’s mid-thought when her phone buzzes on the counter.

It’s her dad.

Of course it is.

Paige flinches without meaning to. Her whole body goes still.

Katie pauses. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Paige says automatically, grabbing her phone. “I’ll—uh—I’m just gonna take this outside.”

Katie nods once, already back to capping the aloe. Paige pulls her shirt back on, not meeting her eyes, and practically escapes to the porch like the house is gonna explode.

The swing creaks when she sits.

“Hey,” she says into the phone.

“Paigeeeyyy,” her dad says.

And that’s… not great.

He’s slurring a little. Talking fast and slow at the same time. His words loop, like maybe he’s trying to sound casual but forgot what sentence he started three words ago.

She knows this version of him.

It’s not even the worst one. Just the one that makes her stomach twist.

“You home yet?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she says, looking at the trees. “Been home. Then came up here. Remember?”

“I miss you.”

That makes her blink. “Okay.”

“Tell Drew I love him,” he adds suddenly, like it popped into his brain mid-rant.

“You could tell him yourself,” Paige says. “He’s with you.”

But her dad’s already moved on. He’s rambling about the lake cabin they used to rent when she was little. About her mom, randomly. About how this whole thing with “her”, which means his wife, or ex-wife, or enemy number one, or whatever, “isn’t fair.”

Paige goes quiet.

She just sits there, half-listening, half-fading out, watching the trees move in the breeze. They’re green and soft and kind of blurry. It should be nice.

It’s not.

Eventually her dad says, “Alright. I’m gonna go, kid. Love you.”

Paige doesn’t answer right away.

“Paige?”

“Yeah. Love you too,” she says, and it sounds fake even to her.

He hangs up.

She sits still for a while. The porch swing creaks again. Her chest feels too full. Her throat feels too tight. She doesn’t cry, but it’s close.

Then the door creaks open and Katie steps out.

She’s got a glass of water and that look. The one that says I’m not gonna make you talk, but I’m here if you want to.

Paige wipes at her nose even though it didn’t run. Just to feel something.

Katie hands her the glass.

“Thanks.”

“You okay?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Paige snaps.

Katie just sits next to her. Doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t lecture.

They sit in silence for a bit. Paige sips her water. The woods are still moving.

She says it before she even decides to say it.

“My dad’s not doing great.”

Katie glances over.

“And I mean like, not great. Like spiraling and weird phone calls and barely holding it together and I think maybe drinking again but I’m not sure and I don’t wanna accuse him of stuff but also I’m not a little kid.”

Katie doesn’t interrupt. Doesn’t react.

“And it’s been loud at home. Like… bad loud. And I know I’m lucky to not be there but my little brother is there, and I don’t know how to help. And I feel bad being here. But also I don’t want to be there. Like, at all. So I feel double bad. And also I think I might like girls. Which is… not related but still a problem. I guess. I don’t know.”

She laughs, short and sharp and hollow.

Katie just hums. “That’s a lot, kiddo.”

Paige leans back against the swing. “Tell me about it.”

“I’m glad you told me.”

Paige shrugs. “You kinda Jedi mind-tricked me into it.”

Katie smiles. “I have secret mind control powers. It’s a thing.”

Paige looks at her. “I thought Azzi made that up.”

Katie shrugs. “She did. But I like it.”

They sit there until Paige finishes her water. The sun’s going down now.

Katie stands up eventually and ruffles Paige’s hair before she heads back inside.

Paige leans back, watching the trees some more.

And for once, everything’s kind of quiet.

–

The room is quiet when she comes back upstairs.

Azzi’s still in bed, curled toward the window, blanket all bunched up under her chin like she didn’t just spend the afternoon being hot and chaotic and bikini-evil. Paige stands there for a second in the dark, watching her breathe, trying not to think about the porch swing or the phone call or how her whole body feels like it’s made of too much.

Her sunburn still stings. Her throat’s tight again, which is fantastic. She’s tired but not tired. You know?

She climbs into bed gently. Like quietly-lower-yourself-gently, blanket-tug-silent-exhale kind of gentle.

Azzi stirs the second the mattress shifts.

Like of course she does.

Paige freezes. “Sorry,” she whispers. “Go back to sleep.”

But Azzi already reaches out, eyes still half closed. “You’re back,” she murmurs, and she’s already moving closer, sliding an arm around Paige like it’s nothing. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Paige flinches. Just barely. But it’s enough.

Azzi’s hand brushes her shoulder and Paige hisses.

“Ow—sorry—”

Azzi pulls back immediately, blinking awake now. “Shit—sorry babe—”

Babe.

Babe?

And then she kisses Paige’s shoulder. The unburnt part. Soft. Just once.

And Paige’s whole brain short circuits.

Because what the hell. Who does that? Who says that? Who kisses people so gently they actually feel like crying?

It’s not like a big kiss. It’s not flirty. It’s not anything but real.

And Paige is… she doesn’t do that. She’s sarcastic and annoying and full of noise. She doesn’t just…get touched like this.

“You alright?” Azzi whispers.

And it’s a real question. Not one of the dumb ones like everyone keeps asking. It’s not like you okay? like a formality. It’s soft. It’s asking in a different way. Like Azzi can feel something on her.

Paige blinks up at the ceiling and does not cry. She doesn’t. But her eyes sting a little, and she breathes weird for a second.

“I’m fine,” she says.

Azzi doesn’t believe her. Obviously.

“Your back’s okay?”

“Yeah.”

Azzi hums. Her hands trail lightly across Paige’s back, carefully avoiding every place that might sting. She doesn’t press. Just lets her fingers move slow and steady, like she’s tracing Paige’s heartbeat through her spine.

Paige exhales into the pillow. Her whole body starts to un-tense. Not all the way. But some.

She doesn’t say thank you. She doesn’t say anything at all for a while.

Azzi just holds her.

One hand on Paige’s waist. One hand moving in lazy shapes on her back. Her forehead pressed against Paige’s shoulder like she belongs there.

And Paige? Paige stays really still. Because if she moves, she might cry. Or scream. Or say something stupid like I needed this more than oxygen tonight.

And like, she knows it’s dumb. It’s just Azzi. She’s just being nice. But it feels like something more. It feels like..

Like like? 

Being in-like?

Paige’s chest doesn’t hurt as much now. And her skin still burns, but a different kind of burn, the kind that’s actually kind of okay.

[hearts4hughes]

can you write how reader was at the party and she couldn't go home because her friend had already left, so she called dbf!rafe to ask him for help even though she was proud and didn't want to. he arrived and she was a little drunk and he was rude a bit with her because of this since he was kinda worried and he was in cassual hoodie and shorts and she was in a short dress he was like a little bit cursing at it. they had sexual tension a lot

you really don’t want to call him. but your friend already left with some guy from surf club, and your phone’s on five percent, and you’re standing on a gravel driveway in heels that weren’t made for this kind of night.

the party’s still going inside—music thudding through the walls, lights glowing soft and purple across the porch—but you’re not drunk enough to beg a ride from someone you barely know. you could uber, but the last time you did that down here, the driver asked if you “believed in crystals” and then missed your turn four separate times.

so, with a sigh, you open your contacts. you scroll through your contacts. you scroll past dad, because…no. and land on rafe cameron. you hesitate. pride prickling like static beneath your skin. but the hem of your dress is riding up your thighs and your lip gloss is smudged and you really don’t want to sleep in someone’s guest room that smells like beer and sex.

you press call. it rings once…twice. then he answers. you hear shuffling, an exhale, before he mutters, “what.” no hello. just gravel and impatience.

you chew the inside of your cheek. “um, hi.”

silence fills the phone. he curses under his breath. you hear him click on his bedside lamp. “where are you?” he asks.

“i—okay, first of all, rude.” you reply, rolling your eyes and flipping your hair.

“where,” he says again, lower this time. like he’s one second away from hanging up.

your heart does that annoying skip thing it always does when his voice gets like this—rough and tight around the edges. “i’m at hunter’s,” you say as if he knew where that was. you glance back at the house. “kind of stranded. long story. but, um, can you come get me?”

another pause. you can practically hear the way he’s exhaling through his nose. “send me the pin,” he mutters. “don’t talk to anyone. stay where you are.”

then he hangs up.

~

he shows up fifteen minutes later, headlights slashing through the dark like a warning shot. you watch him climb out of his truck—hoodie, athletic shorts, baseball cap backwards. completely casual and yet still, somehow, every girls’ dream.

he slams the door with such force that people behind you gasp. the gravel beneath him crunches as he trudges towards you. “what the fuck are you wearing,” he says before anything else. his eyes scan up and down your figure. if only you knew what that little dress was doing to him.

you blink slowly and look down at your tiny red dress. then back up at him, slow. “excuse me?”

“jesus christ.” he rakes a hand down his face, squeezing his eyes shut. “are you drunk?”

“only a little.” you tilt your head. you brace your teeth in the sweetest smile. “i called you, didn’t i?”

“yeah, because you had no other choice.”

you frown. he’s never mean. not like this. your bottom lip just out as you read every bit of anger etched into his features. but then you look closer—at the tension in his jaw, the pulse ticking hard in his throat—and something shifts. it’s not anger, it’s worry. maybe even something underneath that. something heavier.

his eyes drop down your legs, slow and deliberate. he swears under his breath. “this fucking dress…” he trails off before he gets himself in trouble.

you cross your arms, subconsciously pushing your tits together. his shorts start to feel one size too small. “you don’t like it?” you jut your lip out even farther, twirling your hair with your index finger.

his gaze cuts back up to yours. “it’s not the dress.” he grits.

you swallow. your mouth feels too dry. “then what?”

“it’s the idea of you in it, at some dumbass party, surrounded by guys who don’t know how to keep their fucking hands to themselves.”

your heartbeat kicks loud in your ears. your gaze drops to inspect him. his hoodie is worn, a little faded, and you want to tug on the drawstrings just to see if he’ll flinch. he’s looking at you like he already regrets coming, like he wants to throw his jacket over your shoulders and drag you back to the truck without a word.

you step closer instead. each stride is slow and too seductive for a drunk twenty-something-year old. “rafe.”

he doesn’t move. “what?” his breathing increases. his eyes dart back and fourth between you and that damn dress.

you look up at him, too close now, sugar laced and sick with whatever this is. “you’re mad.”

“you think this is mad?” he says, low and sharp, eyes burning. “you don’t want to see me mad, ladybug.”

your breath catches. he’s never called you that like this before. it’s usually a tease. something playful to spike your blood pressure. but now, he says it like it’s a threat. the air changes.

his fingers twitch like he’s thinking about touching you. your dress is too tight and he’s too close and your lipstick’s faded and he’s staring at your mouth like he’s thinking about ruining you. you don’t say anything. you don’t have to.

the tension crackles, mean and hot, sitting heavy in your chest. “get in the truck,” he says finally, voice rough.

your frown deepens. “rafe-“

“now.”

you hold his gaze for one long second. let him see the way your lips part, the way your thighs shift. then you turn, walk slow, and climb in. the sway of your hips is dramatized. it’s half alcohol and half fake confidence. you make sure to slam the door behind you when you slide onto the leather seat of his truck.

but still, you feel his eyes on your legs the whole way home.

taglist ~ @ren-ni @bungurus @kayperrysinging @cupids-diner @mojitrvo @babygirlboeser @makiplan @ladyatwalmart @qversazex @favbrnette @nothingtosee333her @soft-starr @f10werfae @brennanyay @grungefck @kravinoffswife @restinpaece @illumoria @meetmeintheemeraldpool @miaaaoa @imtalkinnonsense @strawberrymilk99 @angel06babysworld @rafesteddy @drewrry @urcoolgf @thegirlnextdoorssister @sydneysslove @dsfault @missabsey

[dayasfilms]

Ahhh I’m obsessed with your writing!!! Can we pls have Star and Steve’s first time together?

Your First Time With Steve

Summary: You and Steve have your first time together after you decide to take a little break from studying for your chemistry exam.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Year: Around September-October of 1982 (Star and Steve are in their sophomore year of high school)

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, smut, fingering, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv (don’t do this), fluff, bad dirty chem jokes, mentions of Y/N, feeling insecure, losing virginity (both f and m), it would make a lot more sense to read my ST series Reticent (click the Series Masterlist below) before reading this to know more about the part regarding protection and the scar but it’s not absolutely necessary

Word Count: 4.1k

Note: Thank you for your request! Funnily enough, I was already writing this before I even got this request so this is perfect timing. Enjoy a little smut one shot about Star and Steve’s first time together. Also, if you want to get added to my ST taglist, scroll all the way to the bottom of this post and click on the green link!

Series Masterlist

ㅤ♡ ㅤ♡ ㅤ♡

The amount of notes on your desk was enough to drive anyone insane. But even though you were in desperate need of a break, you didn’t stop. You kept flipping through flashcards, reviewing every homework assignment and highlighting the mess of topics that would be on your Chemistry exam in two days.

The house was quiet. Your mom was working late in the city, which meant you had the whole day to yourself with no disruptions. Not that your mom was a disruption, of course she never was. You just enjoyed having some peace to cram.

Though maybe you’d jinxed it. Just as you reached for the next flashcard in your stack, a light tapping sound came from the window. Your head snapped toward the glass, heart skipping just slightly. Cautiously, you stood and stepped closer, unsure what, or who, you’d find outside.

At first, there was nothing. You just saw the trees outside and the faint reflection of your bedroom in the afternoon light. You were just about to turn around when another knock made you jump, and a face appeared at the window.

You shrieked. A hand flew to your chest, trying to calm your racing heart as you exhaled sharply. Outside the glass, Steve Harrington stood with a sheepish grin, waving at you like he hadn’t just shaved a year off your life. You opened the window and stepped back as he climbed through carefully, brushing his jeans before straightening up.

“Steve!” You hissed, hands on your hips. “You scared me! You could’ve fallen!”

He gave you an unapologetic grin as he shut the window behind him. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry.”

You rolled your eyes and returned to your desk, pulling out your chair and flopping back into it. “What are you even doing here?”

He sat on the edge of your bed, watching you with soft eyes. “I missed you. Haven’t seen you since…uh, yesterday.”

You turned just enough to raise an eyebrow. “Wow, a whole day?”

“Exactly. Tragic.”

You laughed under your breath and turned back around, flipping open your textbook again. “Why not use the front door like a normal person? My mom’s not even home.” That made him pause. You turned to look at him again. “You didn’t notice her car wasn’t in the driveway, did you?”

He opened his mouth, then scratched the back of his neck. “Okay, in my defense, I was too busy thinking about you. I didn’t really notice anything else.”

You shot him a look over your shoulder, but your smile betrayed you.

“Also,” he added quickly. “Sneaking through your window? It’s super romantic, if you ask me.”

“Oh, is that what that was?” You teased.

Steve stood up and walked over to where you sat, leaning over your shoulder to glance at your pile of notes. His brows raised. “Jesus. How long have you been at this?”

You glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost three PM. You chewed the inside of your cheek. “…Since about ten? After breakfast.”

His eyes went wide. “That was five hours ago!”

You deadpanned. “Yes, Steve. I can count.”

He didn’t laugh. Instead, he gently spun your chair toward him, his hands resting on the armrests as he bent down to your eye level. “Hey. You need a break.”

You shook your head. “I need to pass Chem.”

“You also need a functioning brain, and I’m pretty sure yours is melting right now.” You smiled a little despite yourself, leaning back in your chair. “And I’m sure you don’t even need to study anymore. You’re the smartest person ever.”

You hesitated. “I don’t know…”

“Come on,” he coaxed, brushing a hand down your arm. “Just ten minutes. I’ll even quiz you first. I promise.”

“You’re gonna quiz me?”

“I’m very qualified,” he said, grabbing a flashcard dramatically and clearing his throat. “What’s the atomic number of carbon?”

You rolled your eyes, yet you still had a small smile form on your lips. “Six.”

He flipped the card. “Correct. I’m a great tutor already.”

You crossed your arms, amused. “One question and you’re giving yourself a gold star?”

“Absolutely.”

He grinned, tossed the card aside, and asked you a few more. For a little while, it actually worked. You were laughing and forgetting about the pressure. But eventually, Steve stopped reading, just watching you quietly with a look that made your stomach do a slow flip.

He gently placed the flashcards down and stood up straight, motioning for you to do the same. “Come on. Just ten minutes. Take a real break.”

You let out a dramatic sigh and stood, and Steve didn’t waste a second before sliding his arms around your waist, pulling you toward him.

You smiled up at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’re relentless.”

“I just want you to breathe,” he murmured. “And maybe make out with you a little.”

You laughed. “Of course you do.”

You didn’t protest when Steve gently tugged you away from the desk and toward your bed. You let him fall back onto it first, laughing when he exaggerated the flop, then climbed up after him. He reached for you immediately, pulling you down beside him.

“You’re warm,” he murmured as you settled into his chest.

You snorted softly. “You dragged me away from my desk. This is your fault so stop complaining.”

“Who said I’m complaining?” He said with a grin, then tilted your chin up toward him. “You’re so cute when you’re mad at me.”

You rolled your eyes, lips already curving as he leaned in. His kiss was soft at first, teasing and slow. But as your lips continued to move, it grew heavier. His fingers brushed along your jaw before sliding into your hair, and your hand found the hem of his shirt, fingertips curling slightly against the fabric.

The kiss deepened as you shifted, Steve sitting against the headboard while you straddled him, your body pressed to his. His hands moved to your waist, holding you steady.

It was easy to lose track of time like that. It was easy to melt into the feel of him, the way he kissed you like he’d never get tired of it. The way he always made you feel like you were the most important person in the world.

You shifted slightly, and the pressure of his bulge against your thigh made your breath hitch. He let out a quiet whine that was barely audible, but he quickly deepened the kiss to cover it up. The sound still lingered in your mind, sending a flutter through your core as your fingers curled tighter into his shirt.

At some point, you pulled back just enough to catch your breath, but you didn’t move far. Your forehead rested against his, and both of you were quiet for a moment, just listening to the sound of each other’s breathing.

Your heart pounded and not because of the kissing, but from the thoughts that formed the longer he held you. “Steve?” You asked softly.

His eyes blinked open. “Yeah?”

Your voice wavered, trying to figure out how to say it. “Have you ever, you know…done the thing before? Like, actually?”

Steve blinked up at you, surprised. “No. I haven’t.”

You nodded slowly, not quite meeting his eyes. “Me neither.”

He was quiet for a second, searching your expression. “Why do you ask?”

You paused, fingers fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “I was just…thinking. About us. Being with you like this.” His brows softened as he tilted his head, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You glanced at him, and though your cheeks were warm, you pushed through your shyness. “I think…I think I want to. I want my first time to be with you.”

Steve’s eyes widened, the boy stuttering. “I–I, uh, wha–really?”

You wanted to hide, thinking that maybe you shouldn’t have said anything. “Yeah. I mean, we don’t have to. If–if you don’t want your first time to be with me, I understand. But…I–actually, never mind. Forget I said anything.”

“Hey, no.” He shifted a little, cupping your face gently, his thumb brushing along your cheek. “Of course I want my first time to be with you. But are you really sure about this?”

You nodded, your voice a whisper. “Yeah. I mean…I’m nervous. But I trust you. And I want this. I want to do it with you.”

Steve let out a quiet breath and smiled, like he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have you. “Okay. We’ll go slow, alright? If you change your mind at any point, you just tell me.”

“I will,” you promised, your heart fluttering.

He leaned in to kiss you again, gentler than before, like he was memorizing every second. His hands stayed put on your waist, always patient with you.

Slowly, he lays you back on the bed, his body covering yours. He peppered kisses along your jawline and down your neck, his lips leaving a tingly sensation on your skin. You arched into his touch, your hands gripping his shoulders as he continued his exploration of your body.

He stopped, pulling back a little to check on you. “Are you okay?” He asked, his voice gentle.

You nodded, giving him a small smile. “Just a little nervous,” you admitted, your cheeks turning warm with embarrassment.

He reached out and took your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay, I’m nervous too,” he confessed, his thumb tracing small circles on your skin. "But I promise, we’ll take it slow. We’ll only do what you’re comfortable with.”

His words eased your anxiety, and you found yourself relaxing a little. You tilted your head up and captured his lips in another passionate kiss. He responded immediately, his hand cupping your cheek as he deepened the kiss. You moaned softly against his mouth, your tongue tangling with his.

Your hands began to roam, going up and down his chest. He groaned, his fingers tangling in your hair. You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, and it sent excitement through your body.

When he reached the hem of your shirt, he paused, his eyes seeking permission. You nodded breathlessly, eager for more. He took it off, revealing your bra-clad breasts. His gaze darkened with desire as he took in the sight of you.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice deep.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the swell of your breasts, his fingers swiftly unhooking your bra. As he took off the material, he gazed upon your exposed flesh, his eyes filled with awe.

Suddenly, his eyes landed on a scar near the side of your stomach. He paused, looking up at you. “Wait, what’s this?”

You immediately covered it with your hands, shying away from him. “Um, it’s nothing. It was from a car accident when I was younger.”

His eyes softened, and he went down to the scar, pressing soft kisses on it. The contact made you shiver.

“Steve, you don’t have to—”

“Shh…” he shushed you, continuing to pepper kisses along the faded edges. “Just let me.”

You didn’t say anything else as he loved on you, pressing his lips to make you forget about what happened to you in the past. You wanted to tell him, but not yet. You weren’t ready to open up about that part of your life. You just watched him, your heart full of warmth and love as he put so much care into you.

He then brought his head up and took one hardened nipple into his mouth. You cried out, your fingers tangling in his hair as he sucked and nibbled gently. Waves of pleasure coursed through your body, making you squirm beneath him.

As he lavished attention on your breasts, his hand slid up your thigh, caressing you through your sweatpants. You tensed for a moment, unsure if you were ready for this. But as his hands went higher, you found yourself aching for more.

When his fingers brushed against your core, you knew there was no turning back. This was really happening. You were about to give yourself to him completely.

He pulled away briefly, his eyes locking with yours. “Is this okay?” He asked, his voice quiet.

You nodded, biting your lower lip as you gazed up at him. “Yes,” you whispered. “Please, I want this. I want you, Steve.”

A smile spread across his face, and he leaned down to capture your lips in another searing kiss. As he did, his hands helped you take off your pants and then panties, before his fingers glided through your slick folds.

You gasped at the contact, your hips lifting off the bed to meet his touch. He stroked you gently, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you moan with pleasure. Your head fell back against the pillow, your eyes fluttering closed as you lost yourself in his touch.

But as he continued to pleasure you, you couldn’t help but feel a little worried. You couldn’t stop thinking about how maybe you weren’t good enough to do this, that you would only disappoint him and make a fool out of yourself. Your insecurities threatened to overwhelm you, and you found yourself tensing up under his touch.

Sensing your sudden hesitation, Steve pulled back, concern etched on his face. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, his fingers stilling.

You bit your lip, unable to meet his gaze. “I’m just...I’m worried that you won’t like it,” you admitted, your voice small.

He cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him. “Hey, there’s nothing to be worried about,” he assured you, his eyes soft. “This is both our first times, remember? We’re learning together. There’s no right or wrong way to do this, all that matters is that we’re honest with each other and communicate what feels good. I want to make sure you feel good.”

His words helped calm your nerves again, and you felt yourself relaxing once more. You leaned into his touch, your lips brushing against his in a tender kiss.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his mouth. “For being so understanding.”

He smiled, his thumb caressing your cheek. “Of course, honey,” he murmured, before capturing your lips in another deep kiss.

As the kiss intensified, you found yourself losing yourself in the moment, all thoughts of nervousness and self-doubt fading away. You were here with Steve, the boy you loved, and nothing else mattered.

With newfound confidence, you began to explore his body, your hands moving under his shirt to touch his bare skin. He groaned at your touch, his hips pressing against yours. You could feel his bulge growing, straining against his jeans.

Unable to resist any longer, you reached down and palmed him through the denim, earning a sharp intake of breath from him. He bucked into your hand, his fingers digging into your hips.

“God, Y/N,” he gasped, his head falling forward to rest against your shoulder. “You’re driving me crazy.”

Satisfied with his reaction, you began to unbuckle his belt, your fingers trembling slightly. He helped you push his jeans and boxers down his legs, kicking them off the side of the bed. He then took his shirt off, throwing it to the side as well.

Now fully naked before each other, you took a moment to appreciate the sight of him. He was lean, subtly toned from years of sports, with a faint trail of chest hair that made your breath catch. His cock made your eyes widen, and you couldn’t help but feel nervous again.

Sensing your gaze, Steve looked down at you, eyebrows furrowing. “Hey, we don’t have to do this, honey. Just say the word and we can stop,” he told you softly.

You shook your head, bringing your hand to his cheek. “No, no. It’s not that I don’t want to do it. It’s just…” you looked back at his cock. “How is that supposed to, um…fit?”

Steve couldn’t help but almost let out a laugh at the nervous look on your face. He tried to remain composed, grinning at you instead. “It’ll be okay. And if it hurts too much, we can stop, okay? You just have to let me know. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

You nodded, biting your lower lip as you gazed up at him through lowered lashes. He leaned down and kissed you deeply, his tongue delving into your mouth as his hand slid between your thighs once more. This time, when his fingers brushed against your folds, you were ready for him.

He stroked you slowly with one finger first, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you writhing beneath him. He then added a second finger, and then a third. Your moans filled the room as he explored your slick folds, his touch driving you closer and closer to the edge. He pumped his fingers in and out, making sure you were ready for him. He wanted to make this as painless as possible for you.

A soft moan escaped your lips as his fingers kept moving inside you, the wet sound of it only making the ache between your legs increase. Your eyes dropped to watch the motion of his hand, mouth parting at the sight. It was too much but in the best way. You let your eyes flutter shut, head falling back against the pillow as you let him continue.

You suddenly felt Steve lick a stripe up your pulsing heat. You gasped, opening your eyes to see his head between your thighs. He looked up at you as he stuck his tongue inside, lapping at your soaked core.

“You taste so sweet,” Steve murmured against you, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. The vibrations made your hips move on their own, grinding against his mouth. Your hand flew to his hair, fingers tangling as you tugged him closer. He groaned at the feeling, trying to match your pace as he continued exploring you with his tongue. When his nose bumped a particularly sensitive spot, a sharp whine escaped your throat. He froze instantly, lifting his head with concern etched into his features. “Did I hurt you?” He asked softly, eyes wide and apologetic.

“N–no,” your voice was quiet, and you could feel your cheeks grow warm. “It felt good.”

His frown turned into a relieved smile when he realized you were okay. He brought his fingers back, pressing gently against the spot that had made you gasp. This was all new for both of you, but Steve was determined to learn, to make it good for you. And now that he’d found what made you fall apart, he wasn’t about to let it go. He lowered his head again, his lips wrapping around your clit. When he began to suck softly, your back arched, a moan slipping out as your hand tightened in his hair, keeping him close.

The pressure in your core was building fast, your breaths coming out in soft, stuttering gasps as Steve’s mouth moved against you. He held you steady, his hands gripping your hips as if he didn’t want to let go. Your fingers were still in his hair, tugging him further into you as that wave of pleasure crept faster.

“Steve,” you whimpered, barely able to say his name. He didn’t stop, he just kept going, and it finally sent you over. Your eyes squeezed shut, head pressing back into the pillow as your body tensed, then melted beneath him. The sound of your moan filled the room, shaky and breathless, as the release swept through you. Steve looked up at you, his lips still parted and glistening with your slick. His eyes were wide, completely in awe. You opened your eyes slowly to meet his, still dazed.

“Was that okay?” He asked softly, his hands gently tracing along the insides of your thighs as he brought you back down to earth. You gave him a lazy, content smile and nodded, your heart still fluttering from the high. He leaned up to kiss you again, and you could faintly taste yourself on his lips, a reminder that made your cheeks flush and your legs instinctively press together at the image of him between them just moments ago. He then pulled away from your lips, leaving you aching for more. You whimpered in protest, your lips chasing him.

“Shh, just wait,” he murmured gently, his voice soothing as he settled between your legs. Just as he was about to continue, he paused, eyes going wide as he pulled back slightly. “Shit–I don’t have a condom. I never thought we were going to do this today.”

You stayed quiet for a second, your heart racing. You debated telling him the truth, but now wasn’t the time. Someday, when you were older and ready, you’d open up about everything. For now, a small white lie would have to do.

“We…don’t need one,” you said softly, watching his head snap up in surprise. “I’m on the pill.”

Steve blinked, confused. “Wait, really?” His brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of it. “I mean–is that, like…safe?”

You almost laughed at the look on his face, but you held it back. Shifting slightly, you closed your legs, suddenly feeling too exposed. “Yeah, it’s safe,” you reassured him, meeting his eyes. “My doctor put me on it…to help regulate my cycle.”

He still looked a little uncertain. Steve had never claimed to know much about girls’ bodies but he was still trying to learn. He didn’t push you though. What you said made enough sense for him and he trusted you with everything in him. His gaze dropped to your now closed legs and then back to your face. Gently, he placed a hand on your knee.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked sincerely.

You nodded slowly, your cheeks warm. As he carefully parted your legs again, you swallowed your nerves and whispered. “Yes. Please.”

His eyes searched yours before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead, his thumb brushing your cheek. “I promise I’ll be gentle,” he whispered. “We’ll go slow. If it’s too much, you just tell me, okay?”

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you prepared yourself. Slowly, he entered you, inch by inch until he was fully sheathed inside your tight heat. The sensation was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. It was a mix of pleasure and discomfort that made you tremble. You were grateful he had taken his time to prepare you. You gasped as he began to move, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you tried to adjust to the new feeling.

As he continued to thrust into you, the discomfort began to fade away, replaced by a building sensation of pleasure that threatened to consume you whole. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to go deeper and faster.

He obliged, increasing his pace as he tried to get you to come before him. The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and the slap of skin against skin as he drove into you with more speed. His fingers went to your clit, gently rubbing the sensitive bud, making you cry out in pleasure.

You could feel your orgasm building again, your body tensing as the pleasure became almost too much to bear. You clutched at him desperately, your nails scratching down his back as you were so close to reaching your high.

“Don’t stop,” you gasped. “I’m so close.”

He groaned against your neck, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he neared his own climax. “F-fuck, where do you want me?”

You tried to answer but another moan fell out of you. Your hands clenched tightly on his shoulders, barely getting the word out. “I-inside.”

That one word was all it took for him to push into you one last time, sending both of you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body shaking beneath him as wave after wave of pleasure washed through you. He followed at the same time, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he found his own release, spilling inside you.

For a moment, neither of you moved, content to just stay wrapped up in each other’s arms. Finally, he rolled off you and pulled you close, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“That was incredible,” he whispered. His eyes stayed locked on your face, full of longing.

You smiled up at him, your finger tracing lazy patterns across his chest. “Yeah, it really was,” you murmured, nuzzling closer.

He wrapped you tighter, tangling your legs together so there was nothing between you. He kissed the top of your head as your eyes fluttered closed.

He knew he’d have to leave soon since there was no telling when your mom would get home, but as he took in your peaceful face, all he wanted was to hold you like this forever.

After a while, you glanced at the abandoned flashcards across your desk. “Great. Now I’m definitely gonna fail this test.”

Steve shifted beside you, grinning as he trailed his fingers along your waist. “Impossible. Like I said, you’re literally the smartest person I know.”

You rolled your eyes. “Tell that to my chem grade after Monday.”

He leaned in, lips brushing your ear. “Honey, if tonight proved anything, it’s that our chemistry’s explosive.”

You blinked, then groaned. “Oh my God, Steve.”

“What?” He said, feigning innocence. “I’m just saying, we definitely bonded.”

You shoved his shoulder, trying not to laugh. “Stop!”

“Come on,” he said with a wink. “Don’t act like I didn’t rock your periodic table.”

You gave him a look. “Okay, now you’re banned from speaking until my exam is over.”

He gasped. “What?! That’s, like, two whole days!”

“Exactly. Suffer.”

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•• @kirriririririri @djospresso

get added to my ST taglist

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[quinnsdesk]

QUINN DOES TIM GET JEALOUS? maybe more in a protective and possessive way OOOO

Ahhhh yes yes yes I love this!

I'm thinking Tim definitely gets jealous, while you're his patrol partner it's totally protective but when you're finally his AH HE'S SO POSSESIVE!

all x fem!reader || mdni under the cut ✭

Before you two start dating:

✭ Tim Bradford definitely gets jealous, but not in the obvious way. Not at first. While you're just his patrol partner, it manifests as protectiveness. He's territorial about your safety, your reputation, and your performance. He says it's just because you're a fellow officer, just part of the job, but it’s more than that.

✭ I can totally imagine him, when he was your T.O, not liking it when other officers call you “boot” like they own the word. He gets weirdly stiff when you share inside jokes with anyone else.

✭ If another cop tries to flirt with you at roll call, Tim's standing closer than usual, shoulder brushing yours, cutting in before the conversation can go anywhere. "It's called professionalism," he says when you tease him about it later. "You're my responsibility out there."

✭ Oh and when you're on patrol and a drunken civilian makes a comment about how he's always had a thing for ladies in uniform? "Damn, girl, I never knew cops could be so sexy." Tim lights up in flames, internally. "Watch it." He demands before positioning himself between you and the suspect in a protective manner. "It's not 'girl'. It's officer to you." He barks before cuffing the man and being a little too rough when putting him in the shop.

✭ When Nyla and Angela finally notices how Tim gives Aaron death stares as you and Aaron talk about the latest ClipTalk trend they confront him. "I don't know what you're talking about. I look out for all my rookies like this. Even though she's P2 now." Man is lying through his teeth; he's never done such.

✭ And when he's really pissed, he'll channel out all his frustrations in the shower. Tim's got a large ego, so he can't help himself but to run his hand over his hard length imagining you and your wide, beautiful eyes. You're in the bathroom of the bar, your "date" only a few feet away, as you take his cock like the perfect girl you are. Only for Tim to open his eyes to be disappointed once he cums in his fist, he misses your touch.

✭ When you're in interrogation, a guy who may be connected to Elijah Stone can't help but glance down at your chest every once in a while, before asking for a glass of water. You happily leave, leaving Tim and the suspect alone in the room. "When she gets back you better talk to me and not her chest, or else I'll cut your eyes out and feed them to my dog, Kojo." The man is understandably terrified.

✭ I see him never letting you approach a hostile suspect alone. "Tim, I'm not your rookie anymore." You whine in protest, "I don't care, stay behind me." His voice deep, a raspy, sending shivers down your spine.

✭ Tim absolutely hates it if anyone, even Grey, raises their voice at you. A detective was just about to chew you out for not firing your weapon at an unarmed suspect who in turn got away. "Hey! You got a problem with my partner? She did her job the way I trained her, so if you got a problem with her, you got a problem with me." The detective shuts up leaving both you and Tim in an awkward silence.

✭ If you're searching an apartment and the suspect checks you out. Tim will wait for you to leave the room before grabbing the guy's collar. "I will blow your fucking brains out. Try me." Before letting him go and waiting 2 minutes before turning his body cam back on.

✭ "Who's that?" He asks pointing to your date who's picking you up at the station. "Oh that's just Jake, my date." You smile watching the hair on the back of Tim's neck stand up. He waits for you to go clock out before walking over to him, gripping his hand a little too hard when he goes for a shake. "Take care of her. I don't want to have to console her when they take you away in a body bag." The man gulps as Tim smiles before you walk back and say goodbye to him.

✭ "Officer Pretty." The words clung to Tim's thoughts like a leech as you bandaged his knuckles, "You really need to start boxing with gloves." You chuckled, of course he felt bad for lying to you, but you can't know how he puts he career at risk every day when a suspect calls you hot.

When you guys are finally together:

✭ Tim sees a guy look at you too long at a bar and suddenly his arm is around your waist, voice low in your ear: “You want me to handle that or are you gonna smile and let him keep staring?” You smile at him teasingly before he grabs your jaw and pulls you in for a deep and possessive kiss right in the middle of the bar, making the man's mouth go dry.

✭ The phrase “You’re mine” gets a lot more airtime when he’s feeling jealous. It’s not even meant to be sexy sometimes, it’s territorial. "I was wondering if I could get your number?" A rookie from another division asks. Tim walks over, his metro shirt clinging to his chest, "She's got my number and that's all she needs." He barks before giving the rookie his signature death glare. "You know you don't need to be so possessive over me?" You kiss him on the cheek. "Everyone is this station needs to know who you belong to."

✭ No more then 5 minutes later he has you bent over his desk in his office, the sweet squelching noises of your pussy making you whine as he rams himself into you. "That clown thinks he can make you feel this good? Tell me who you belong to." He grunts with each thrust. "Yo- You Seargeant Bradford." You gasp as a sharp stinging sensation forms on your ass cheek. "That's right. You're mine, pretty girl."

✭ Tim will see you talking to other male officers, but he wouldn't mind. Knowing that your panties are in his pocket will give him a peace of mind. He knows you're uncomfortable, your thighs are sticky, leaking of his cum but he loves it. You glance over to him watching his hand remain in his pocket, fiddling with the fragile fabric before running that exact hand over his face. You knew what he was doing. Reminding you who you belong to. That fucker.

✭ Oh he gets so pissy when you call another guy handsome even as a joke. "Can he fuck you like I do? Huh?" He groans into your neck with each thrust, "Fuck you so good, you can't even form a coherent reply." He mocks as you whimper. He places your hand on your lower belly where you feel his cock ramming in and out of you. "Feel that? That's me baby, not him." He spits before speeding up.

✭ Imagine you spotted your ex at the precinct’s fundraiser. It was harmless, just small talk. But the second Tim noticed, you felt his energy shift across the room. His jaw clenched, drink forgotten on the nearest table as he stalked over like he owned the place. “Hey,” your ex said, smiling politely. “Didn’t know you’d be here tonight.” Before you could reply, a hand found the small of your back. “She is,” Tim said, stepping up beside you. His voice was calm, but cool enough to make someone freeze. “With me.” Your ex extended a hand. “Tim, right? Good to finally meet you.” Tim didn't take it, he just looked at him. You tried to cut the tension. “We were just catching up. It’s not a big deal.” Tim didn’t take his eyes off him. “No, of course not." Tim smiles, but it's not genuine, it's cocky, egotistical, rude even. Your ex coughed awkwardly. “Right. Uh… well, good seeing you." As he walked away, Tim leaned in, voice low against your ear. “He doesn’t get to look at you like that anymore.”

@sleepymissy @whatasadlittlelife @jessewesmitchellfan @w1ldf1owers @winchestersbgirl @vinos-things

[aosawako]

Answer

“Feelings that come back

Are feelings that never left.”

Tobio Kageyama

Tobio Kageyama asked you to be his girlfriend in your 3rd year of middle school. It was the most he’d ever let someone in at the time. At the time, he was completely focused on volleyball and unable to let you completely in.

That didn’t mean you didn’t try. You managed to make him more comfortable with you, but you couldn’t change his mindset.

It was sweet at times, other times not so much. You understood him in a way no one else did. Understood why he never depended on anyone and chose to do it himself instead. Though, his independence in volleyball appeared in your relationship with him. Tobio insisted on not telling you anything, not communicating because he believed he didn’t need to.

He believed he could do it himself, forever and always. It started frustrating you, though you never admitted it. Instead, you tried to lightly encourage him to depend on you. At least a little. But he didn’t.

There was only so much a person could take before it became too much. Kageyama would push you away and then it would repeat. All it took was a bad game, someone else acting up, a slight mistake in his game.

Tobio would try, he really did. Though he couldn’t change because of the people around him. They just kept disappointing him over and over. Which lead to him being frustrated around you, shutting you out in the process.

That led to what happened a year ago. You told him how you felt, and he couldn’t answer you. Tobio just stared at you, he wanted to say something but he didn’t know what.

He wasn’t like you, comforting and good with words. You knew what to say to him, how to ease him even at the worst moments. He wasn’t anything like you, he couldn’t give you anything more than an, “Okay.”

It was nearing the end of the school year, a few months before summer. You had told him you wanted him to feel like he could open up with you. That you understood why he didn’t but it tired you how he wouldn’t attempt to communicate, just shut you out.

“I really do like you , Tobio.” You had sighed softly, preparing yourself. “And I’ll be rooting for you, in every way imaginable. Maybe right now isn’t the time for us, and maybe we’ll have a better chance in the future.”

Tobio Kageyama thought about that moment often. More frequently than he liked to admit. He saw you around at Karasuno, staring as you passed.

He thought about what you meant, a better chance in the future? Was his time up yet, or could he still make it?

Kageyama had changed, his team taught him more than he thought they would. He could depend on them, he wasn’t alone on the court anymore. The team irritated him but it was different this time. More for stupid reasons over anything.

Now, all he was missing was…you. He thought he lost feelings for you, but all he did was gain them back. He had grown, and you weren't there. You didn't see the fact he had changed. Tobio wasn't going to avoid communication with you, nor try not to depend on you.

So did you mean it? Would there be a chance to make it right this time?

Sugawara was the first person he asked. Kôshi supported the idea, only if Tobio was ready to be the person for you. He saw the progress and growth in him over the school year.

Then Kageyama asked Hinata before sending the message. If he really should do it, if you would even respond.

Hinata was excited for his friend, saying that if you said you really did like him, you would love him now. He encouraged him to send the message because even if it did go wrong, it's better to fail knowing you tried rather than fail not knowing if it could've worked.

You were walking home from school, chewing at your gum, headphones blasting. The music was cut off by a message being read.

‘From Tobio: I miss you.’

Then your music started up again, and you let it. Not checking your phone once as you walked, millions of thoughts running in your mind.

As soon as you got home you opened it, you saw exactly what you heard. You pondered for a moment, what to say. You had noticed his changes, they were subtle. But he had grown more from who he was.

He was in practice when you had responded. So as soon as it was over, he checked his phone. Relief filled him when he saw your name, a simple message followed but it was exactly what he needed. You reciprocated, you missed him too.

(Click photo if blurry)

His message surprised you to say the least. He was almost outside? The two of you didn't live necessarily far from each other, however it would take some time to get to your house. Was he already heading there before he sent you that?

That didn’t really matter at the moment. You quickly got yourself ready, whatever that meant. After a few minutes, you grabbed a pair of shoes. Putting them on before stepping out.

It was already dark out, but you could still spot him. He was standing in front of your house near the sidewalk. The door clicked close after you pushed it into place.

Kageyama looked back to see you, taking his hands out of his pockets. Rubbing them on his sides, was he nervous?

You approached him, walking down to the street. You were going to say something first but he beat you to it.

The top of his head was visible when he gave you a short bow, “Thank you for coming.”

“Well, I just came out of my house. I should thank you. You ran all this way didn’t you?”

Tobio stared at you, lips parting. “I did but it was nothing.” His head perked when he heard you laugh at him, he missed that.

“Thank you..Tobio. I can still call you that right?” He nodded. It was still new to him, but it was welcomed. His eyes stayed on you, he hadn’t been able to get a good look at you in a while.

“What I told you, I meant it. I do miss you and want to get back together.” Kageyama stumbled on his last words, but you could still see he was attempting to be better for you. “I promise you’ll be a priority and I’ll do my best to communicate. I won’t let you down.”

You smiled, he was so serious about it. He only really ever said something if he meant it. The silence sat for a moment, “Then..I trust you keep your promise. You’ve never let me down before so there really isn’t a need to say-“

Kageyama didn’t mean to cut you off but he couldn't wait. “Will you be my girlfriend?” He stared at you like you created volleyball itself. His ears were pink, followed by his face dusted with blush.

“Yes, I will.” You didn’t hesitate when you said it. Tobio really liked that, more than he would want to admit. You saw him bolt to the corner of the street, you were about to follow. Then he ran back, gently pushing flowers into your hands.

“I hope you like them, thank you again.” He watched you touch the flowers. His hands shoved back into his pockets, they were so sweaty. He didn't want you to see that.

“Thank you Tobio. That’s so sweet, you really didn't have to. Did you keep them over there in case I said no?” He looked away from you sheepishly.

“Maybe.” He looked back feeling your arms wrap around him. His face was so red, he was happy he didn't have any of his teammates around. Especially now that he was hugging you back, yeah. It was better that they weren't there.

Bonus ౨ৎ

Kageyama laid in bed, just about to fall asleep. His phone flashed back on, making him grab it begrudgingly. It was Sugawara.

Practice does pay off.

[bachirasbimbo]

Meguru wasn’t someone whose spirit was easily broken down.

In-fact, there’s never been a time that you can recall where his spirit has been completely destroyed.

He’s always kept a level-head.

Energetic? Sure.

Enthusiastic? Also sure.

Crazy? Beyond that.

But you found that extremely endearing to say the VERY least.

You crushed on him from afar, obviously way too scared to actually make a move on him.

He was everything you wanted in a guy, and despite not being too bad looking yourself, he made you much too nervous.

You had never felt like this about a boy, so for you to be going insane? That’s valid.

He didn’t notice when you would wave at him, blushing profusely as he waved back.

He didn’t know that whenever he brushed by you, your heart exploded in your very chest.

He didn’t notice that whenever he flashed you a sheepish smile, your stomach would churn in a way that left you puzzled.

Meguru Bachira was something that needed to be studied in a lab, you thought to yourself.

But you had also thought Meguru never noticed you.

Which was a total and utter lie.

During his games, you were always there, cheering him on from the sidelines.

He’d catch glances of you staring at him, even if only just for a split second—but he never made it obvious he noticed you.

He liked the way he had you wrapped around his finger.

So everything he had done you thought were part of your delusions? It was intentional. Because he liked seeing you squirm.

In-fact, Bachira had spent countless of nights thinking about you.

Whether it was your face,

Your eyes,

Your lips,

Or even your body.

Your enthusiasm towards him had sparked his interest, and that was enough for him to make the move on you.

It happened when you had been bored, you had decided to go see a movie.

You were waiting for your friend to sneak some drinks near your way.

She had been gone an awfully large amount of time, which was frustrating for you.

You were pretty alone in the theatre, this movie really wasn’t well-liked but you had been dragged here against your will.

A voice echoed, the tone was playful, light.

“Anyone sitting here?”

Bachira asked, pointing to the movie seat next to you. In one hand he was holding a paper bucket of popcorn, propping a piece of the buttery delight in his mouth every few seconds.

You were stunned, you just stared up at him, eyes wide.

Was this really happening? Wait—No, why is he even here?

You cursed under your breath, your mind reeling. But if he takes that seat my friend won’t-

“Hello?” He waved in front of your face, bringing you back to reality.

“Huh? Oh, uh, no.” Screw your friend.

She was taking too long to get back anyways, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity.

Bachira lazily hummed, falling back onto the seat as he stared towards the big screen, his hand occasionally digging into the popcorn.

The fact he was sitting right next to you excited you, your heart was twisting into knots.

Honestly, it was kind of scary how much of an effect he had on you.

All you could hear was random hums from him, or the crunch of his obnoxious chewing habit which you had grown to like.

He was carefree, and it was something you admired deeply.

You bit your lip, trying to distract yourself. Your gaze was on the movie and the movie alone, though, occasionally stealing a glance at him.

There was an abrupt silence between the two of you, as the movie proceeded.

Your friend still wasn’t back, by some miracle.

“So, do you like this type of series?” He asked, his voice still light, cutting you from your thoughts.

It was just casual conversation. You felt pathetic with how fast your thighs clenched together.

“Uhm—Yeah.” You replied, a bit too quick for your own liking

Shit. Now you just looked weird.

He replied with a click of his tongue.

“I don’t really like horror.” He said, a little too casual for your liking.

You just nodded slightly, your eyes still glued to the screen. You wanted to look at his face so badly right now. But you were scared.

The unsettling feeling of his gaze had settled in your stomach, you felt like he was staring holes into the side of your head.

Was he staring? Or are you just being delusional?

Oh, he was indeed staring. And quite shamelessly too.

He paid no mind to the movie playing upfront, and your gut clenched.

When you finally turn your head to meet his gaze, he smiles. Flashing you that grin you admired so much.

You don’t know what happened. One thing lead to another and you had somehow landed back at his place, breathless under him as he stared down at you.

Even as he met your gaze now, sandwiching you under him. His gaze was just as light as it always is.

Maybe you should be scared by his enthusiasm, or maybe his lack of shame.

But you weren’t. You were drawn to it like moths to a flame.

He leaned down, his grin widening. “Your crush was soo obvious!” He taunted, giggling more to himself than you. He probably found it entertaining humiliating you.

All you did was blush, your heart was erratic by this point. You wouldn’t be surprised if you just rolled over and died.

“I-“ you attempted to talk, to defend yourself, just for him to shove a finger to your mouth, effectively shushing you.

“Shhh!” He said, still smirking widely.

It was no surprise when things quickly escalated from that, and for some reason, he wouldn’t allow you to stop looking at him as he pounded into you, his grip on your thighs bruisingly tight—unbeknownst to him.

he destroyed you, your gut hurt so badly as you clenched around him, shaking as you came undone on his cock for the third time.

You were worn out, the use of your pretty little cunt had you unable to breathe properly.

Not how you imagined losing your virginity, but since it’s Meguru Bachira? It’s fine.

Your moans to him were like heaven, and you were a present he wanted to unravel and tear to shreds.

He urged you on, entertaining it all as he rubbed your clit, the pad of his thumb moving rhythmically on the wet bundle of nerves, like he had done this 100 times—but he hadn’t. He was a fast learner, is all.

You were an overstimulated, drooling, moaning mess.

You practically squeeled like a pig everytime he came inside of you, pulling out to watch his seed drip from your pussy only to push back in shortly after.

“Bachira- Ngh!” He had no shame, letting out noises of his own as he continued his thrusts.

The grip on your thighs was getting to be extremely painful, but your senses were too overcome with bliss to care.

“No.” He silenced, before leaning in, closing the distance between your fucked out face.

“Meguru.” He corrected, connecting your lips as he pushed his tongue into your mouth with such fervour it scared you.

Tears welled up in your eyes, you were too overstimulated to even process his words.

Your tongue wrapped around his own as he continued to fuck into you at a pace steady enough to make you yearn for more, but enough to overstimulate you.

The clawing of his back came into the picture, your nails scratching down his bare, meticulously fair skin.

The only noise shrouding the room was the plap! plap! of his skin meeting your own and faint moans.

The room smelt like pure sex and arousal, not that you cared.

You couldn’t continue on, he was a monster. His stamina was something you had never thought of whenever you fantasised about him.

But he could go for genuine. Hours.

For once, you thanked your friend for being unreliable.

And as your consciousness began to fade, your walls strangling another load out of him, spasming, you could make out a faint smile forming on his face.

“Night night.” Is the last thing you heard.

[dandysworld-meh-imagines]

maybe one where the reader is the newest member of the book club? platonically speaking

i like the book club, theyre my fav characters :D

thank you and take ur time ^^

Reader Being A New Member Of The Book Club!

I feel like the book club would be so chill to hang out with and read books together msmsmsm, might even use the place to quiet sketch as I use stuff from books as reference MUAHAHAHAHA! This was very cute by the way, hehe, here you go, dear anon! Thank you for requesting! <3

I've been drawing a lot hehe..

-Anna

-The toons were quite aware of a library being somewhere in Gardenview, it would have so many books to select from and it seemed to have a cozy vibe, was kinda spacious too. Out of all the places in this place, it easily makes it's way up to being one of the quietest ones. If you needed a place to relax from how a lot of the toons might be loud or from your daily life in general, the library would always have it's doors open for anyone! The only sounds you will probably hear is pages turning and maybe some quiet sips or even some chewing from everyone else. Everyone can have their little corner or space, though.

-Brightney would be the one who was often there as she was the president of the book club. For a place that had so many books, it surprised you that it had 3 only members, especially considering how many toons are there. You got invited by Brightney one day and here you were. Reading books together in silence or through some small talk here and there. It honestly felt pretty cozy and nice in there, it would have this pleasant vibe to it. Brightney also knew her way to get you the exact books you want or like, just let her know! She's always there to help out, after all.

-Next to Dazzle, Razzle was also there but a lot of the time (if not all of it), they would be seen sleeping. As for Dazzle, he really seemed to enjoy reading, sometimes you would catch a small smile on his face as he reads. He seems to really get super into the books he picks up on, even having a small stack next to him on the things he wants to read next, it's a pretty wholesome sight, especially since you don't often see Dazzle smile or seem completely relaxed. It's also a funny sight since Razzle is snoring next to him and keeps his head still in the air.

-If you wanna see Astro being awake for more than an hour at least (or less), you will only find it in this book club. He can also really get invested a lot but he is more likely to fall asleep just like Razzle. Only for him, sometimes you don't even notice since he likes holding his book with his star hands and he doesn't snore like Razzle. For Astro, reading can really help him fall asleep pretty fast and it's something he loves doing after a full day of greeting the children that visit Gardenview. Having also a nice warm drink next to him can definitely speed up the process of it.

-Brightney would have this calm and mature vibe around her as she reads, she even brings her small glasses when she does so. She's also the one to definitely go to if you ever need help with something as she's always happy to help! She definitely has the skills and knows how to make the reading spots around the library feel comfortable to stay at, even the soft light in the room makes you feel relaxed while also providing enough light to read the books you picked.

-You can also always bring stuff like drinks or snacks as you read anything that your heart desires! The only rule is to never let anything dirty like that to touch the books and potentially ruin them. Thankfully though, Brightney has brought small tables into the the library for anyone to place their stuff or you can always sit on the floor with a pillow underneath you as you read. If everyone is careful enough, there won't be an accident. If it does happen one bad day, Brightney can always ask the staff for a replacement for it, it's okay, don't feel bad for it!

-Sometimes, other toons would join in as well, they usually come like once or twice. The one you see the most is Shelly and she often swaps the dinosaur books when she is done reading them and grabs the fresh ones. She comes back to reread the old books too. Brightney even encourages everyone, if they want, they can always bring their friends and more company, it's always nice to have more toons in here! Of course, if no one really wants, she won't really mind, everyone is happy reading books quietly in here, after all.

-But being at the book club is pretty chill! The vibe is calm and gentle and even if you are someone who stumbled in there for the first time, it feels like you have been a member of it for so long. Brightney is really kind and talented, helping you adjust and everything. Even encouraging you to please tell her if you need absolutely anything. Dazzle and Astro's company is also pretty sweet, they like to recommend you books if you want to hear them out, especially Dazzle. Though they usually read quietly, offering you silent company.

-Sometimes small talks turn into you all having a conversation together and laughing, whether it's about the books you are reading or quietly bonding as you all have your trusty drinks or food beside you. Sometimes it might even feel like a sleepover, especially if you all gather at night or the atmosphere feels like it as well. The mood can even feel sleepy sometimes as it is that cozy in there. Honestly, Brightney feels glad if the book club is able to provide any of you some nice comfort, especially at night if you can't sleep.

-The book club can really be a nice place. Even if you are new, there is never really a moment where you will feel anxious that you are the newest member. The toons are all welcoming and it's even perfect for those that don't even talk much or even prefer to be alone. You don't even have to come by every single time! Though the book club is always happy to see you reading together with them! They really like having you there with them and they are glad that you joined the book club!

Thank you for reading! <3

[helloalycia]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 [𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄] — 𝐄𝐌𝐌𝐀 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐌

one / two / four / masterlist / wattpad

summary: after training with Emma some more, you realise you quite like spending time with her.

warning/s: mentions of death and violence.

author's note: i was supposed to share this two days ago but it’s been so busy lately, so apologies for the delay! only one more part left after this - enjoy :)

Small flames danced in the air around me, one by one appearing as and when Emma wanted them to.

My job was to keep an eye on them as they appeared, extinguishing them with a counter attack of water, depending on how big or small the flame was. It was supposed to develop my precision and ability to think on the spot, but it was difficult and I sometimes either overdid the water or missed the flame completely.

Emma was the perfect teacher though, encouraging and patient and never shouting when I got frustrated – which was often.

She conjured another ball of fire, this one a few metres in front of her, and the irritation of missing the flame before this got to me because I used a little too much water this time, directing it at the ball of fire and drenching her behind it instead.

My jaw dropped as she jumped, startled, and closed her eyes instinctively.

"Shit, Emma, I'm sorry!" I apologised immediately, moving forward to see if she was okay.

She wiped her eyes, spitting out a stream of water from her lips, and I winced at how much I'd used without realising. To my surprise, she began to laugh, her hazel eyes sparkling with amusement, and that was when I knew I hadn't completely messed up.

"It takes practice," she told me reassuringly.

I sighed, looking over her dripping dress and hair. "You say that about everything."

"Well, you're improving, aren't you?"

I quirked a brow doubtfully. "Am I?"

She smiled, squeezing the water from her hair into the grass. "Yes, silly."

I begged to differ, chewing my lip as I felt bad watching the amount of water drip off from her curls.

"Wait, I can help," I said to her, making her pause. "At least this one thing I can do without messing up."

She lifted her brows, curious, but stopped what she was doing. I used my abilities, focusing my energy on 'grabbing' the water from her clothes and hair, pulling the moisture out and into the air. It was easy enough, as easy as conjuring water and wetting something, and in seconds, her clothes and hair began to dry. She looked down, surprised as it worked.

"There." I moved a frizzy strand of now-dry hair from her eyes. "All done."

"Wow," she said with a slight smile, impressed. "Maybe quicker than me drying myself with my own pyrokinesis."

"Probably the only useful thing I can do," I responded. "Appropriate, given how training is going."

She stifled a laugh as she said, "Definitely useful, but not the only thing."

I breathed out tiredly, going to sit on the bench in the corner of the garden. She joined me, sitting beside me and straightening out her dress as she did. She always had these habits, ones nobody really cared for anymore, like remaining presentable at all times or not cursing or acting proper. It was very old-fashioned and I'd noticed it the more I trained with her, though I suppose it was a quality of the time period she lived in.

I was creating small droplets of water and flicking them at the grass as we sat in silence when she decided to break it.

"Can I ask you something?"

I hummed, glancing at her between messing around. "What?"

She straightened up, hesitant. "That day with Miss Peregrine, the day before you started to train with me. What happened?"

I paused, blinking when I realised she didn't know like I thought. It would have been easy to tell her to mind her own business, as I always did, but we were surprisingly getting along lately and I found myself not wanting to keep everything to myself right now. And if not for that, then just for someone to tell me I hadn't overreacted with Miss Peregrine.

"You don't have to tell me," Emma added, when I didn't respond straight away.

I shook my head, glancing at her. "No, it's fine, it's... She took me to the hill where the hollow comes out. Same time every day."

Emma nodded, eyes on me despite the fact that I couldn't hold her gaze.

"She wanted me to use my powers to kill it," I explained, and it felt so stupid, so embarrassing, as I said it aloud. Maybe because it was in front of Emma, who never seemed afraid of anything. "I barely got chance to realise until it was there and I just– I froze. I couldn't do anything except stare." I clenched my jaw at the memory, deflated. "I haven't seen one since my parents were killed by one. I just– I didn't expect it. She should've warned me. I wasn't ready. I thought–" I swallowed hard, shaking my head. "She should've warned me."

Emma rested a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it gently. "I'm sorry that happened. I'm sure she didn't mean to upset you. Explains why you switched training partners though."

"It's stupid–"

"No, it's not," she stopped me before I could even begin. "You weren't ready, end of story. And that's okay. Miss Peregrine is right most of the time, but even she can get it wrong sometimes." 

My eyes flickered between hers, reading the sincerity in them. Hearing her confirm what I'd thought helped a little. With how little control I had over my life recently, sometimes I thought the same of my emotions. I'd felt angry for so long, and this was a prime example. But knowing Emma believed I wasn't overreacting did something to ease my embarrassment.

"Would you try again?" she asked softly, dropping her hand.

I tilted my head. "What?"

She nodded like it was obvious. "Killing the hollow."

I looked down, growing uncomfortable at the thought of it. "Maybe, I don't know. I'm not ready."

She hummed in response, before adding, "I can help. If you want. I can go with you when you do it. Maybe it won't be as scary then."

Her earnestness comforted me more than I realised, and the thought of facing the hollow again didn't seem as far-fetched as it once did.

"Maybe," I replied, and when I looked up at her, she smiled tenderly.

—

Since training with Emma, it meant I was settling in a lot easier than I had been, which included spending the occasional evening with the others rather than locking myself in my room.

Tonight, we were all getting comfortable, ready to watch another one of Horace's strange yet prophetic dreams projected before us in the living room. His peculiarity was the ability to see the future through his dreams, but it wasn't as straightforward as that. His dreams could either be super specific or vague nonsense that he had to decipher. It was the latter that we all got a treat out of watching, like the 20th century equivalent of TV.

"Okay, sshh, it's starting," Hugh spoke over everyone's conversations, as Horace stepped in front of the room expectantly.

Chatter ceased as all eyes were on him. His arms were dramatically folded behind his back as he spoke.

"Tonight's viewing," he announced, "is brief, but rich in symbolism."

Emma groaned softly from beside me. "It's always rich in symbolism."

"Art," Horace responded with a hint of impatience, "is not appreciated in its time."

I cracked a small smile as the others giggled at his words and Emma playfully rolled her eyes. Horace took a seat on the couch opposite the projection screen Miss Peregrine had set up earlier and began to project his dreams onto it, using a strange telescope and his eye.

The dream flickered to life: shadowy figures marching backward, a goat in a top hat, then someone falling slowly into a giant teacup. Already, some of the others were stifling laughter whilst others were amazed by the absurdity of it. I was somewhere in the middle.

Horace cleared his throat proudly. "As you can see, themes of descent and social ritual–"

"–and goats in formalwear," I added nonchalantly.

Emma snickered from beside me, nudging at me to stay quiet.

"–themes of descent and social ritual," he repeated, as if I hadn't spoken, "are prominent in tonight's dreams."

"But the goats are formally dressed," Enoch pointed out. "Kind of like you, Horace."

We all chuckled at Enoch's comment, making Horace scoff quietly.

"Their attire has nothing to do with the dream," he defended. "Nor myself."

"I wouldn't dismiss the idea," Enoch muttered, eliciting some more giggles.

On the screen, the goat in the top hat jumped out of the tea cup and began galloping into what changed into a mid-western backdrop.

"So, does he get a cowboy hat now?" I asked, if only to pull at Horace's leg.

"His attire isn't relevant!" Horace burst, losing his patience.

Everyone began to laugh, including Emma, whose I could hear the clearest because she was right next to me. It was the first time I'd ever really listened to it, or acknowledged it rather, but it sounded quite... well, lovely.

The scene moved on to something different, and Horace cleared his throat calmly. "If the commentary is over..."

"Sorry," I apologised, but I wasn't, not when Emma was still grinning at my joke and her laughter still rang in my head like a lullaby.

—

It was a few months after the first attempt of killing the hollow when Miss Peregrine, Emma and I were stood atop the hill, waiting for it to return at midday.

If you'd told me months ago that I would come back, I would've shouted in your face. But here I was, oddly prepared to face the creature once more. And that was mainly down to Emma, who had nonstop encouraged me in training.

"Remember, control is everything," she reminded me, hands on my shoulders as she looked me in the eye. "Do whatever you want, but keep it locked in. Don't let go. No distractions, alright?"

I nodded, sucking up a deep breath. Admittedly, I was still tense even though I felt better prepared than last time. The nausea hadn't left since last night, but I swallowed it down and tried to remember Emma's advice.

She offered me a supportive smile. "You're gonna be okay, darling. Just take it easy. Miss Peregrine and I will be here if anything goes wrong."

"Thanks, Emma," I said sincerely, and I hoped she knew just how much I was thankful for. More than the advice, that was for sure.

She squeezed my shoulder, hands lingering for a moment longer and sending tingles down my spine, before she let go and moved to stand beside Miss Peregrine.

I looked at the spot where the hollow would show up any minute now, clenching and unclenching my hands in preparation. I knew exactly what I wanted to do, but my fear was freezing up again.

"Any second now, Miss Y/L/N," Miss Peregrine called out to me, glancing at her pocket watch. "Good luck."

I nodded, eyes flickering to Emma briefly, who smiled at me encouragingly. And just as it did last time, I heard a splash over the edge of the hill, knowing it was here.

I dug my feet into the grass as I waited for it to appear over the edge, watching the grass depress where its spindly fingers pulled its body up. My fingers twitched as I grabbed ahold of the water from the ocean, the action using more energy than my average training session. The hollow's footsteps approached the painted outline of its corpse – the same thing every time – and I raised both hands as I brought a tidal wave with me.

It shot into a stream, wrapping around the hollow's invisible body and giving me some clue as to how it looked without actually seeing it. The hollow squealed, loud and sharp and ear-piercing, but I kept my control on the water, attempting to tighten my grip and pull it back into the ocean to drown it.

I thought it was going well, until I suddenly felt something slimy and wet hit me in the face, making me lose my grip on the tide and fall back onto my butt. The hollow snarled and I quickly stood up, eyes wide as I looked around for it, only the sound and footsteps on the grass my clue to its whereabouts.

In a split second, the wet, slimy tentacle of sorts – no, it's tongues – wrapped around my neck and tightened its grip, lifting me into the air.

"Y/N!" I heard Emma shout, but I couldn't turn my head as the hollow was bringing me closer to its mouth.

I used my remaining energy to control the water once more, bringing it back up the hill from the beach, needing it to get this thing off me, but it was difficult and my nose was starting to bleed and I couldn't focus with its tongues cutting off my oxygen.

Thankfully, a ball of fire zipped past my face and into the hollow's, making it drop me to the grass. Another ball of fire knocked the hollow back and then Emma was by my side, kneeling beside me as I caught my breath. We both looked up, the flames catching fire on the hollow – the only thing we could see – as it stood up to leap at us. But just on time, Miss Peregrine shot her crossbow at its head, killing it.

"Hey," Emma breathed out with relief, hand on my back as her other cupped my face. "You're okay, it's okay."

I touched my throat, still able to feel the tongues writhing around. My blood was warm, the metallic taste dripping between my lips from my nose, and I stood up slowly.

"It's okay," Emma repeated, fussing over me, but I shrugged her off, overwhelmed. "You almost had it, Y/N, you just need a bit more practice."

I scoffed, annoyed at myself for messing it up so badly. Even with preparation and notice, I still couldn't get it right.

"Miss Bloom is right," Miss Peregrine commented, approaching us. "You did good. You almost had it."

"Almost isn't good enough," I muttered frustratedly.

Emma's expression softened as she attempted to reach out. "Y/N–"

"Forget it," I said with a frown, before turning on my heel and leaving.

—

Later that evening, I sat by the fireplace in the living room, knees pulled to my chest, staring at the flames mindlessly. I still couldn't believe I'd messed up with the hollow earlier. Even when I tried, I couldn't do it, and it was stirring up awful feelings in my chest.

As I sulked, unable to go to my room to go to sleep anyway, I heard footsteps behind me and didn't need to turn to know it was Emma. She'd been giving me worried looks all evening, but I couldn't bring it in myself to talk to her.

"Hey," she spoken softly, taking a seat beside me on the rug.

I leaned my chin on my knees, humming in response.

Her eyes were on my profile, sympathetic. "It's okay that you couldn't do it. It just means you try again."

I shook my head, frowning to myself. "You don't get it."

She rested a hand on my shoulder, leaning in. "Then tell me, Y/N, please."

Her touch was warm – it always was, a side effect of being pyrokinetic, I suppose.

"I thought that facing it would make me feel better," I said quietly, glaring into the fire. "That I'd somehow atone for– for getting my parents killed. I couldn't kill that one, I didn't even know what it was. But it came for me. And instead it–"

I stopped myself, breathing shaky.

"Y/N," Emma started, other hand on my knee, but I spoke over her.

"No, you don't get it," I repeated, looking to her with watery eyes. "I couldn't do it. Not then, not now. They're gone. And I can't– they'd be so disappointed in me."

"That is not true," she said, forcing my knee down so I'd look at her. "You don't need to atone for anything. What happened was awful, but it wasn't your fault."

I turned my head, looking away from her as I wiped my eyes shamefully. "Maybe this isn't where I belong."

"That's not true either." She reached out, turning my face back to her, before meeting my eyes with certainty. "You've come so far. I know it doesn't seem like it, but you have."

"Emma, we both know I don't fit in here," I disagreed, giving her a knowing look, before looking down. "I've become so... awful. I try so hard not to be, but it's like I've forgotten who I am. Losing them, it's... it's made me the worst person to be around."

"Grief does different things to people," she tried to comfort me, not dropping her hand from my shoulder.

"I treated you awfully," I reminded her, blinking the tears away as I looked to her. "You've only ever been kind to me, and I threw it back in your face."

"And I haven't taken it personally because I know that's not you," she retorted, eyes flickering over my expression with concern. "And that was then."

"That was, like, two months ago."

She cracked a small smile. "Still." When I didn't speak, she continued, "We all feel like we don't belong sometimes. The loop has its days. I know it's hard, but it's safe."

I shifted my jaw uncomfortably, wanting to believe her.

"Come here, darling," she spoke softly, before pulling me in for a hug.

I didn't fight it as she wrapped her arms around me, revelling in the comfort. She squeezed me tight, stroking my hair, and I didn't need to wonder why she had such patience for me. Her heart was huge and I was lucky to be in it.

Once we pulled apart, she kept ahold of my hands, watching me closely. Then her hand lifted to my cheek and she wiped a tear with her thumb, a small yet intimate gesture that made my brain short circuit momentarily. So much that I didn't even hear what she said.

"Pardon?" I blinked.

Her lips curved into a small, amused smile. "I said, did I ever tell you how I ended up in Miss Peregrine's care?"

Swallowing thickly, I shook my head, realising I'd never asked.

She nodded, tilting her head as she watched me. "I'm from Cornwall, not Wales. My abilities manifested around the age of ten years old. I'd set my bed on fire whilst sleeping, so my parents they..." Her expression twitched at the memory, but she continued, "they changed my bed to a metal frame so I wouldn't set it on fire. No pillows, duvet, nothing flammable. They thought I was lying, a pyromaniac, because I would never get burned myself."

I hung onto her every word, curious.

"One day, my hands were hurting so badly. I didn't know what was happening, but it got too much, so I put them in some ice that was holding some fish at the market. The ice melted from how hot my hands were and I ruined the fish, so they chased me all the way home and wanted me – or rather my parents – to pay. I was so scared, and the ice only made it worse, and then my hands caught fire." She looked down at her hands, still holding mine. "My mother was terrified. She ran away, claiming I was a demon from her womb. I never saw her again."

I frowned. "Emma..."

"It's okay," she assured me, flashing me a small smile. "It was so long ago."

Time didn't heal, not permanently, we both knew that. But she kept going for my sake anyway.

"My father thought I was the devil, locking me in my room with asbestos sheets so I couldn't escape. He'd feed me occasionally, scared I'd hurt him if I fed myself. He was right, at least then. Now, I know it wouldn't have done any good."

"He would've deserved it though," I commented, and she gave me a look that said she didn't disagree.

"I was there, like that, for some time. But my sister... my wonderfully sweet and caring sister, Julia, she knew I wasn't as much of a monster that they made me out to be. She untied me one night, telling me to leave before father found out."

Emma had a sister? I hadn't known, though I'd made no effort to know. Considering I hadn't heard her mention her whilst being here, I couldn't imagine she spoke to her anymore and that made me feel awful.

"I went to the circus," she said, in a voice that wasn't her own. "I was a fire-eater, an apt career path for a girl with only one skill. It was only for a month, then Miss Peregrine found me."

She stopped, and I waited patiently as it looked like she wanted to say more, but she didn't.

"Thank you for sharing that with me," I said after a moment, squeezing her hands gently. "And I'm sorry you had to go through that. I... I should've asked. Sooner."

She shook her head. "That's not why I told you. I just want you to know that we all go through it. That's my story, but Enoch has his, Olive has hers – we've all experienced it. That feeling of not knowing who you are or where you belong. That fear of the unknown. But you're not alone, Y/N. You have us. You have me."

And she said it with such a finality that there was no room to argue otherwise, and I didn't want to. I may have lost my parents, but at least I'd gained a new family.

"Thank you," I said quietly. "For everything."

"You don't need to thank me." She smiled, before letting go of my hands and turning to face the fire, moving closer to my side. A pause, and then, "If you need to kill that hollow, then do it. We can train more. Practice. Okay?"

I nodded, looking at the space between us, what little of it was there. "Okay."

"It gets easier," she added, glancing at me. "Living in a loop. Being this age. Accepting your fate rather than running from it. Because you're safe. And that in itself is worth its weight in gold."

I looked up, shadows dancing across the side of her face from the fireplace. She looked hauntingly beautiful, and I cursed inwardly for even allowing myself to think it. It wasn't appropriate, not when she was helping me.

"I suppose being forever seventeen wasn't what I saw for myself," I spoke halfheartedly.

"At least you made it that far," she joked, stifling a smile. "Sixteen isn't all it's cut out to be."

I exhaled, a ghost of a smile on my lips, before glancing over. "But you're not sixteen, are you?"

"Hey, don't you know it's rude to ask a lady her age?" She nudged me playfully, and I let out a quiet laugh.

"You know what I mean," I corrected myself. "You've been here a long time, in this loop, haven't you?"

She pressed her lips together, shrugging. "I suppose I have. Eighty four years to be exact, since the day it was created."

My eyebrows raised, though I suppose I always knew it. It was just strange hearing it out loud. Especially because my brain felt disconnected, seeing a sixteen year old girl before me who was actually in her eighties. Oh, god. Did that make me weird for checking her out?

"You must remember, I've been living the same day over and over since I was sixteen years old," she added knowingly, when she saw my expression. "I feel like a kid still. It's all I know."

Sixteen, every single day for eighty-four years. For me, turning seventeen couldn't have come sooner. Maybe it made sense after all.

"If it's any consolation, I don't think of you as some old lady," I said, lightening the mood. "You're mature for a sixteen year old. Not so different from the smart girls in my year at school."

She chuckled, shooting me a sideways glance. "The smart girls, huh? And what did that make you?"

I flushed slightly, trying to play it cool. "I got by. Not straight As or anything, but enough to get into university."

She grinned.

"Forget I said anything," I mumbled, and she laughed wholeheartedly, sending somersaults in my stomach.

"Forgotten," she said teasingly, nudging my shoulder with hers.

—

Seagulls squawked above as they flew by, the sun shining down on us as we sat on our picnic blanket. Apparently the other children would do this every now and then, bringing everyone together for a picnic by the beach. Miss Peregrine usually joined too, but she had other business with another ymbryne to attend to in her study, so she was trusting Emma and Enoch with watching out for everyone, and (by default age) me.

I reached for a homemade scone, inspecting it closely.

"Don't worry, I triple-checked, it's raisin-free," Emma said with an amused smile, glancing at me.

"You sure this isn't a ruse to get me to eat the worst fruit on earth?" I asked suspiciously, sniffing the scone.

She scoffed playfully. "Rude. And here I am, going out of my way to make sure you can eat."

I hummed, not convinced, before taking a bite and chewing thoughtfully. When I swallowed, raisin-free, I gave her a grateful look. "And you'd be right. Thank you."

She nodded satisfactorily. "I'll settle for a medal."

"You'll get a thumbs up." And I did just that, making her laugh.

As I took another bite, her shoulders brushed mine as she grabbed my cup of lemonade, stealing a sip.

I blinked at her over my scone. "I bought that."

"And I bought the scone, deal with it."

I raised my brows, slightly impressed by her sassiness, trying not to smile. She winked playfully as she took another sip, making my heart grow warm in my chest. Before I could respond, another bird squawked above us.

"We're being watched," Millard commented, hat tilted back, the only indication that his invisible head was looking up at the sky. "That same seagull has circled us five times now."

"Maybe it's pirates in disguise," Olive teased.

"Or maybe it's Miss Peregrine, warning you to stop kicking sand on my good trousers," Horace said, shooting Millard a pointed look.

We all laughed as they seemed to be having a stare off, though I didn't know how Horace did it when you couldn't even see Millard's face.

Enoch approached us, taking a seat on his towel in his swimsuit as he'd just come out of the ocean. As he moved his hair from his eyes, he nodded towards me.

"Hey, Water-Girl," he called. "I'm curious. Can you breathe underwater?"

I rolled my eyes at the nickname he hadn't dropped since I got here. "I can't say I've tried, Enoch. But I'm pretty sure the answer is no."

He smirked, amused. "Really? You make water appear out of nowhere and throw it around like confetti. It doesn't seem so far-fetched."

"Enoch," Emma said in a warning tone, shooting him a look.

"I'm pretty sure that would require you to control air," Olive pointed out. "Which is kind of my thing."

"But if it worked, you'd be a really cool mermaid," Fiona added.

I tried not to laugh as I looked between their eager faces. "Guys, come on. I'm not gonna drown myself to test a theory if that's what you're thinking."

"Nobody said you had to drown yourself," Horace corrected, shrugging. "Just a quick dip in the water."

"Don't encourage them, Horace," Emma disagreed, glancing at the well-dressed boy, before fixing Enoch with a glare. "She's not your guinea pig."

"It's just a harmless test," Enoch said innocently.

"Harmless until it's not," Emma scolded him.

And I knew she was looking out for me, but I was curious too now. It would be pretty cool if I could breathe underwater, and I was suddenly eager to try it. I glanced out at the ocean, seeing the tide was low. It couldn't be too dangerous, right? After all, I could just swim out of it.

"I don't think Y/N agrees," Bronwyn said with a giggle as she noticed my expression.

I looked back to the group, particularly Emma who was already tilting her head challengingly. The look in her eyes told me all I needed to know – it was a stupid idea.

"I mean, worst case scenario, I swallow some seawater," I said carefully, making her groan quietly.

"Or a jellyfish up your nose," Millard added.

"I don't think jellyfish are in this part of the ocean actually," Hugh corrected him.

"Only one way to find out," Millard countered, "right Y/N?"

I sighed, knowing this conversation would never end if I didn't give it a go. Plus, I was curious myself. "Fine, but if I die, I'm haunting you all."

"Deal," Enoch agreed.

I stood up, dusting my trousers off, and Fiona began to clap excitedly, eager to see what would happen.

"Y/N, you don't have to do this," Emma said with a hint of concern, hand grabbing mine, tugging it so I'd look at her.

"It won't take long," I assured her, squeezing her fingers before letting go. "Worst case scenario, I end up soggy and embarrassed."

She blinked. "You'll definitely end up soggy and embarrassed."

"But it will be excellent entertainment," Enoch remarked, making Emma shoot him a glare once more.

I smiled as I began to walk towards the sea, though not without hearing Millard's voice behind me.

"This seems like a really bad science experiment."

I couldn't help but mentally agree, but the peer pressure was strong, so I ventured into the sea until I was waist deep. I gritted my teeth, body adjusting to the cold water, and took a deep breath. The sun glinted off the ripples around me and I hovered my hand above it, trying to feel that familiar tug in my gut.

The water shifted slightly when I found my hold, and I spread it apart slightly before sinking in. It was freezing, but I tried to ignore it as I held my breath momentarily, unsure if the small pocket around my nose and mouth was working. It seemed like it was as I floated under the water, finally taking a breath.

Thirty seconds – that was enough time for me to be amazed and consider just how handy this could be, before my concentration wavered and the pockets burst, being flooded by water.

I choked, feeling the saltwater sting my nostrils and throat, deep in my lungs, and used my abilities to shoot me out of the water for air. Admittedly, it was embarrassing how I clambered out onto the sand, coughing up water and what felt like all of my insides.

Emma was already making her way down the dunes, expression sharp. "Real scientific, that," she snapped at Enoch, glaring.

"She volunteered!" he defended.

"Because you pressured her into it," she shot back, then kneeled beside me, rubbing my back. "Are you okay?"

"I think I swallowed half the sea," I mumbled, sitting on my knees.

"Definitely not a mermaid then," Millard called over the sound of the waves.

Emma ignored them, eyes searching mine worriedly. "Don't listen to them next time, you plonker," she scolded, though she didn't sound angry.

"Noted," I spluttered out.

She shook her head, moving a strand of wet hair from my eyes, and suddenly I didn't care about how cold or wet or thirsty I was. "You're freezing, come on."

"I can dry myself," I reminded her, already doing just that.

She scoffed quietly as we sat down by the picnic blanket. "But that doesn't warm you up, does it?"

I chewed my lip as I looked down, seeing I was now completely dry, but still in fact cold. "Maybe not."

She wrapped her arms around me from the side, the heat from them enough to soothe the goosebumps on my skin, and I couldn't help but lean in slightly, chasing the warmth.

"At least now you know," Enoch commented, before shrinking in on himself when Emma fixed him with a fiery glare.

"He's right, kind of," I started, but it was my turn to be on the receiving end of her glare.

"You could've gotten hurt," she reminded me. "And then what? We would've had to tell Miss Peregrine you almost got yourself killed trying to play mermaids."

I stifled the urge to smile. "Okay, so not a very good science experiment."

She tilted her head towards me intimidatingly, but a smile twitched on her lips.

"Won't happen again," I promised her.

"Yeah, until we dare her to do something equally as funny and challenging," Horace added with a snicker.

I didn't look away from Emma's gaze as I flicked my hand, shooting a spurt of water at his face. He complained as the others laughed, but I assured Emma.

"It won't," I confirmed.

"Good," she murmured, eyes flickering over my expression, her own softening.

My heart twisted in my chest at the way she was staring – all soft and protective and fond – so much that I had to look away, cheeks warm, and not because of her hands.

We stayed sat like that for a while longer, observing the others as they got on each other's nerves as usual. When I was finally warm, Emma let go, but I was still acutely aware of her knee and shoulder pressed to mine.

When the others were playing in the water, Emma and I were left alone. I was snacking on a jam sandwich as she was leaning back on her hands, watching over the others. And then she spoke up.

"You didn't need to prove anything."

I glanced at her, and she was already looking my way. "I know. But... I thought it would be cool if it worked."

She exhaled, rolling her eyes lightheartedly. "How did that go for you?"

I pursed my lips, looking back to my sandwich. "I was definitely cold afterwards."

She huffed, an almost laugh.

"Good thing I know someone with some pretty neat fire abilities," I added with a sheepish smile, and she shoved my arm slightly in response.

A pause, her eyes still studying me like I was something special. "I didn't like watching you go under. Not even for a second."

Sensing the seriousness in her voice, I looked to her apologetically. "I wasn't in any real danger."

Her eyes, looking green in the sun, flared with something unreadable. "Doesn't mean I liked it."

I held her stare, trying to figure out what she meant, but she gave nothing away. At least, nothing she didn't want to.

"I meant it when I said I wouldn't do it again," I reassured her softly.

She hummed, not entirely convinced, before looking ahead again. I did the same, feeling funny.

"–not for you to stand in, you imbecile, it's a sand castle!" Horace was shouting at Millard, close to the water.

"It was an accident!" Millard responded, before his hat flew from his head, hitting Horace in the face.

I cracked a smile as I watched them bug each other.

"Everyone really likes having you here, you know," Emma commented, noticing I was watching.

"I like being here, even if I do sometimes feel like a spare part," I admitted.

"You're not a spare part," she said, kicking my knee with her foot. "You belong here. With all of us."

I smiled softly, glancing sideways at her. "It's weird. I fought so hard to leave. But now I couldn't imagine being anywhere else."

"Aww, did we finally grow on you?" she teased, eyes twinkling.

"Yeah, like mould," I retorted with a knowing look. "Or maybe a bad fungus."

She shoved me again, this time with force, knocking me sideways in the sand. I laughed as I pushed myself back into a sitting position.

"You don't deserve my kindness," she mumbled to herself, a smile on her lips.

"But I appreciate it." I grinned.

She tensed her jaw, amusement dancing in her eyes as they met mine for a second longer than they should have.

I was starting to get used to this.

[mikiquette]

She's mid-chew as she listens to Sylus, and perhaps because the food is just that good, she doesn't feel the need to flounder over his words immediately.

Instead she listens attentively, eyes bright enough for her to sneak in another bite with her free hand while he speaks, despite all of her worries—because in her head, it's just too good to pass up on.

And then—

Oh.

She pauses.

On her next bite the fork hangs in front of her mouth, and her eyes widen. She hadn't realized the weight of her words until he repeated them back to her. And they're not words she'd take back, definitely not. In her heart a sense of satisfaction takes root right beside hope—Sylus seemed so happy that she'd called it a date, and even though her cheeks warm considerably once more, it's nothing compared to the happiness she feels in response to that.

She barely notices the drinks being placed on their table—though she's aware she probably really needs a cool one—she only looks at him.

Her shoulders relax, her eyes soften, here gaze remains shy but determined.

"...Do you like your food?" she murmurs.

And then after a moment—

"I... really like you, Sylus."

She thought she'd need the alcohol for her to say those words out loud, admit it so directly.

She doesn't, though.

And part of her is glad it didn't take alcohol to be bold enough; glad that she gets to say it on her own terms.

"I like you. I—I want to have more dates with you. I want to keep seeing you, I want to keep getting to know you even better... I want and I want, but I—would only want these things as long as you do, too."

🍓 ︴ i was waiting for you, too. closed rp with @sylus-hds-7213.

There was something comforting in the melancholy of the night.

Quiet steps padded the pavement, and perhaps usually she would rather not stay out so late, but the stillness of the city offered a quiet that she knew she wouldn't find elsewhere. The occasional car would rush by her, city lights would flicker off... And yet, one glance into the sky could have her picking up enough stars to make the darkness not so unbearable.

Approaching a railing looking out towards the rest of the city, she walked over and drew closer to her chest the music sheets she'd used for her earlier midnight gig at the bar.

Linkon was pretty. She truly believed it.

And with a little smile on her face, she pulled out her phone and snapped a little picture.

[ to :: tweetybird ] hi! you're still up... i think? ;; right?;; i just finished up at the bar, i know you wanted me to text you after...

[ to :: tweetybird ] —picture attached—

[ to :: tweetybird ] linkon is pretty tonight.

[ to :: tweetybird ] you stay in the n109 zone too much qwq you need prettier views too...

Her thumbs hovered over the keypad for a moment, realizing that her first instinct really had been to turn to Sylus immediately. The thought brought a little blush to her face, and the next message went through a series of rewrites before she could send it:

[ to :: tweetybird ] you could come here...

[ to :: tweetybird ] when will i see you again?

[ to :: tweetybird ] if you're not busy;;;

[ to :: tweetybird ] i think i miss you

Yet, there was never enough courage for her to be so bold in front of him, even through a phone screen. Nevermind that this was only a crush in the first place; she figured that she couldn't dream of being so forward regardless.

So instead, what she really could send—

[ to :: tweetybird ] are you going to sleep soon?

[thenecropolix]

So basically what I'm hearing is that we should add some extra enrichment to the engine's "enclosure" (rail-accessible) areas? Tbh that checks out

What has the strongest effect on morale, you reckon? Texture-based toys? Audio response (eg. Things that jingle when bumped) toys? Visual toys eg. A wall of lava lamps?

For collective morale, I don't think there's really one option that will have the strongest effect because each train will have different needs; if I really had to choose, I would say audio due to ease of accessibility on the railway's part, but ultimately it's dependent on the individual trains

For example, Gordon clearly shows interest in music and detests any form of physical labor that he believes is "beneath" him (e.g. shunting); ergo, it'd make sense that he'd gravitate toward audio response toys

By contrast, we are shown very early on in one episode that when given a "day off" Thomas resorts to shunting/bumping cars for fun; it'd would make more sense then that he may prefer tactile toys

It's those possible differences that could clash amidst the trains, not unlike how some people enjoy one form of stimulation, but then others loathe it; much like what is recommended with pets and wild animals, variety is key to combat boredom while ensuring all individuals are equally entertained

[burningcheese-merchant]

HI i was the hanahaki anon. Just wanted to say ( truly ) that ?? im glad that my silly thought that was mostly influenced by you got your approval somehow. incredible . yay

i hope you're feeling better after what happened to your dog( great news that they got better,,, ) anyways i wanted to show my appreciation by this rushed doodle i did... i probably drew something wrong but i hope you'll forgive me for it

This is so awesome omg 😭😭😭 I don't even know what to say!! Your art style is so cute!!! Aaahhhh I can't stop looking at it... Look at Mama Bird and Baby Bird 😭 And is that Burning Spice over there? Is he throwing Jack 😭 are they playing Boomerang just like I explained in that one post 😭😭😭 Ugh, my heart... This is the best. You're the best. Thank you so much for this, this made my day!!! I appreciate YOU, honestly. Both for your silly thought (which it isn't, Hanahaki BurningCheese is great, tysm for giving me another story to write! I love when others inspire me) and for this fanart. And for your support in general!

(and I really appreciate your concern for my dog ❤️ he's back to being his silly old self again, thank goodness. I'm happier looking at little baby face now than ever before, I think. A scare like that really grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you. You never know what you have, and all that. I love that little guy so much. He promised me he'd live another 100 years, he can't leave so soon haha)

[yuviur]

Shot by Carol, on one fateful Saturday morning

[donnatroyyyy]

Dick genuinely doesn’t have a favorite sibling, he’s like the parent that says “I love all my children equally” and you believe it, he actually loves them all equally. He’s been trying to convince them that for the last few years, they don’t believe him, so he does what he has to, he says it’s Steph and let’s her deal with it.

[septimusmoonlight]

You doing ok?

hi

[reksink]

How Art Thou Fallen, Child of Endless Starlight

Another Comm From Other Realms 💚 (Click for better quailty)