#drabbles ༻

[surielstea]

Solstice Special

(SFW version)

Pairing: ACoTaR x Fem!Reader (separately)

Summary: A compilation of drabbles with a theme of Winter Solstice, just an excuse to write fluff really.

Warnings: All fluff! One allusion to smut (rhys), but that’s it!

3.7k words.

Rhys - Mistletoe

I leaned against the archway of the foyer, sighing as I reached down to unbuckle the straps of my heels. The day's weight still clung to me, but the familiar warmth of home promised relief. One shoe off, then the other, I barely registered the soft sound of hurried footsteps until they were practically upon me.

Rhysand rounded the corner from his office, his usual grace momentarily abandoned as he skidded slightly on the polished hardwood floor. My brows furrowed at his urgency. "What's wrong?" I asked softly, my voice laced with curiosity and a hint of concern.

He didn't answer, not with words, anyway. Instead, his hands cupped my face, firm yet tender, tilting my head up to meet his descending lips. His kiss was sudden, warm, and commanding, leaving me breathless before I had a chance to even think.

Still, I kissed him back, my confusion melting into a hum of contentment. When he pulled away, his violet eyes sparkled with mischief, and his lips curled into that devilish smile that always unraveled me.

"Welcome home," he murmured, his voice rich and teasing.

I blinked up at him, dazed. "What was that for?" I managed to whisper, still feeling the lingering heat of his mouth on mine.

His grin widened as he silently pointed above us. My gaze followed the gesture, landing on a sprig of mistletoe dangling from the archway. I couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up, shaking my head. "Did you hang that up?"

"I did," he replied, looking awfully pleased with himself. His pride was almost endearing, considering I had done all the rest of the decorating. The garlands on the banister, the wreath on the door, the lights twinkling softly in the windows—all my handiwork. And yet, he stood there, so smug about his singular contribution.

I grinned, shaking my head as I leaned up on my toes to press another quick kiss to his lips. "I think it's my favorite of all the decor," I murmured against his mouth.

He hummed his agreement, his hands sliding down to rest on my hips. "I know," he said, his tone entirely too self-satisfied. "I'll expect full credit for it."

From that day on, the mistletoe became a tradition—one he refused to let go of. Every day when I walked through the door, he'd be there waiting. His excuse was always the same, a playful glance upward and a husky, "You know the rules."

Usually, the kisses were soft, sweet. A lingering press of his lips against mine followed by a quiet, "I'm glad you're home." Sometimes he'd brush his thumb along my jaw or press his forehead to mine, his eyes saying what words never could.

But on other days—those long, grueling ones when exhaustion was carved into every line of my body—his kisses were different. They were hungrier, more insistent. He'd pin me against the wall, his hands roving over my waist, my back, his touch dissolving every ounce of tension. His mouth would trail to my neck, his voice a low murmur, "Let me take care of you." And he always did, in ways that left me breathless and melting into him.

There were moments when I wondered if the mistletoe had been an innocent gesture at all, or if he'd hung it up knowing it would become something more—a way to anchor us, to carve out a pocket of intimacy amid the chaos of the world outside. If so, I couldn't complain. It was the best idea he'd ever had.

The archway and its ever-present dangling plant became our quiet haven, an unspoken ritual that drew me closer to him every day. And it was the last night of the Solstice Season, meaning all the decorations would go down tomorrow. So when I came home I expected rose petals leading up the doorstep and candles to illuminate our last kiss beneath the dangling plant.

But when I walked inside, I found him waiting for me, not beneath the mistletoe, but by the window, a glass of wine in his hand. The soft glow of the moonlight framed him like some sort of painting, his silhouette a study in elegance and ease. He didn't notice me at first, his attention fixed on the snow drifting lazily outside.

I paused in the doorway, letting the sight of him settle in my chest. He was dressed in more casual clothes—a loose, charcoal-gray sweater and black slacks—and for a moment, I could almost forget he was the High Lord of Night, the most powerful male in Prythian. Right now, he was simply mine.

"Are you going to stand there staring all night?" Rhysand asked, his deep voice cutting through the quiet. He didn't turn, but I could hear the amusement in his tone.

I rolled my eyes, stepping into the room. "You looked peaceful. I didn't want to ruin the moment."

He glanced at me over his shoulder, a slow smile spreading across his face. "You could never ruin anything." Setting his glass down, he turned fully, holding out a hand. "Come here."

I hesitated for only a moment before crossing the room and slipping my hand into his. His fingers closed around mine, warm and sure, and he guided me toward the window. "Look," he murmured, nodding toward the snow.

I followed his gaze. The world outside was blanketed in white, the kind of snowfall that muffled all sound and made the world feel smaller, quieter. It was beautiful, but I couldn't focus on it for long. Not with the way he was looking at me.

"You're not even looking at the snow," I accused softly, glancing up at him.

His lips twitched. "Why would I, when you're here?"

I let out a breathless laugh, shaking my head. "You're shameless."

"Always," he agreed, pulling me closer. His hands settled on my hips, and I found myself instinctively wrapping mine around the back of his neck, head resting on his chest as I stared out the window. We stood there, swaying slightly to a rhythm only he seemed to hear.

After a moment, I tilted my head up to look at him. "You going to kiss me anytime soon?"

"Desperate, are you?" he countered, one brow arching.

I gave him a pointed look. "You're the one who started all this."

He sighed, a dramatic sound, but the way his hands tightened on me gave him away, he couldn't deny me.

He leaned forward, smiling as our lips nearly met but didn't quite touch. I huffed, rising onto my toes and closing that gap to kiss him. It was slow and deep, a silent confession of everything I couldn't say. He responded immediately, his arms tightening around me, grounding me.

His hands ran up my hips, large hands gripping my waist, the warmth of his touch seeping past my clothes as he pulled me closer and deepened our kiss, attempting to pour all his love into this one moment.

By the time we pulled apart, I felt lighter, the weight of my long day dissolving under his touch. "Thank you," I whispered, my fingers brushing over his jaw.

He smiled, that familiar, self-assured curve of his lips. "For the kiss? Or for being perfect?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "For this. For you."

His smile softened, his gaze turning molten. "Always, my love." He pecked my lips once more, slowly pulling away with his forehead against mine. "Always."

Az - Cookies

We had made a mess. Flour clung to the entire front of Azriel's black shirt, standing out starkly against the dark fabric, while dye from the frosting stained my hands in streaks of bright colors. The countertops were a warzone of cookie cutters, unused dough scraps, and piping bags in every color.

But neither of us seemed to care. Azriel focused on his latest creation with the precision of a Spymaster turned confectionery artist, the perfectly golden-brown sugar cookies serving as his canvas. I was still shocked he hadn't devoured the one he was decorating, considering he'd been snatching cookies fresh out of the oven all afternoon.

We weren't officially competing, but if we were, I'd be losing. Horribly. His cookies looked like something straight out of a Winter Solstice display—ornate wreaths, perfect bows, and snowflakes so detailed they might have been drawn by hand. Meanwhile, my snowman looked like he'd been through a blizzard and lost the fight. His crooked smile mocked me from the plate.

With a defeated sigh, I cleared a small space and hoisted myself onto the counter, leaning back on my hands to watch my mate work. I didn't understand how he was so good at manipulating the frosting—it seemed to defy my every attempt.

"Are you pouting?" Azriel asked without looking up, his deep voice carrying a hint of amusement.

"Something like that," I replied, unable to keep the pout from my tone.

"This was your idea, might I remind you," he said, a soft laugh rumbling in his chest.

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, waving him off. "I remember."

Azriel placed the piping bag down with deliberate care, adding yet another masterpiece to the growing plate of decorated cookies. Finally, he looked up, those hazel eyes warm and alight with quiet humor as they locked onto mine.

Without a word, he stepped forward, settling himself between my legs. His hands, still dusted with flour, rested on either side of my thighs as he leaned in. The kiss was soft, sweet—lingering just long enough to make my breath catch. When he pulled back, his lips curved into a slight smile, dimples appearing as though summoned just for me.

"You taste like frosting," he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

A soft giggle escaped me before I could stop it. "You're not entirely innocent either." I poke his chest.

He tilted his head, pretending to think, but the mischievous gleam in his eyes gave him away. "I'm not sure what you're talking about," he said at last, his lips twitching into a smirk.

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help the warmth blooming in my chest.

Cass - Snowmen

"Using your powers is cheating," Cassian declared, gesturing toward my much more impressive snowman. His own creation, barely the size of a pre-schooler, leaned precariously to one side, a lopsided grin smeared across its face.

I scoffed, smoothing the snow on mine as I used my magic—honed in the Winter Court—to form the snowman's perfectly symmetrical, smiling expression. "Don't pout," I said, throwing him a smug grin. "It won't make your sad little snowman any better."

His gasp was loud and exaggerated, and he stomped through the knee-deep snow toward me, hands on his hips like a scolding parent. But the rant he was about to give cut off as his gaze flicked upward. He tilted his head back, dark hair dusted with white as fresh snow began to fall.

The soft flakes drifted between us, one landing perfectly on the tip of my nose. Cassian grinned, leaning in to brush it away with his lips before stealing a kiss, his mouth warm against mine. The cold melted away as I wrapped my arms beneath his jacket, hugging his solid torso against me. His hands pressed against my back, pulling me even closer.

But he leaned too far into the embrace, and the next thing I knew, we were tumbling backward into the snow.

I squealed as I landed with a soft thump, the freezing cold biting into me as I flailed. Cassian laughed, his deep chuckle loud and unapologetic as he flopped onto his back beside me.

"You're such a brute," I muttered, trying to brush the snow off my hair.

"And you're such a sore loser." He grinned, turning his head to look at me, dark eyes gleaming with amusement. "Thought you liked the cold?"

"I do." I glared, my cheeks flaming as the cold snow beneath me only seemed to grow colder.

"Then stop whining and enjoy it." Before I could argue, he swept his arms wide, his legs kicking out to carve a snow angel. The sight was so ridiculous—Cassian, a massive Illyrian warrior, lying in the snow and making an angel—I couldn't help but laugh.

"You don't need to use your arms, you already have arms," I said, flopping back beside him. "So ridiculous."

But I joined him, moving my arms and legs until a pair of angels stretched between us. He turned his head toward me, his grin softening into something warmer, gentler.

"I like this," he murmured. "Just you and me, acting like kids in the snow."

My heart clenched, the sincerity in his voice wrapping around me tighter than his arms ever could. I reached for his hand, our fingers lacing together in the snow.

"You're lucky I'm in a good mood," I teased, "or I'd bury you in it."

He laughed again, the sound full of unrestrained joy as he tugged me closer. His wings wrapped around us like a shield, keeping the cold at bay as the snow continued to fall. We lay there for a while, watching the snowflakes swirl down from the dimming sky.

Eventually, he whispered, "I'll help warm you up when we go inside—if you admit my snow angel is better than yours."

I rolled my eyes, a smile tugging at my lips. "Not a chance, general."

Lucien - Ice Skating

"Wait!" I called out to my mate, my hands trembling slightly as I tried to steady myself. My knees wobbled dangerously beneath me, the ice beneath the blades of my skates feeling far less forgiving than solid ground.

Lucien turned, easily as if he wasn't on blades. His golden eye shimmered with amusement, the hint of a small smile tugging at his lips. He looked as though he'd been born on skates, while I felt like a newborn fawn—clumsy, awkward, and certain I was seconds away from disaster.

I took a tentative step forward, my arms stretched out as if I could somehow will balance into my uncooperative limbs. The moment my foot moved, I lurched forward, letting out a squeak of panic.

Lucien was there in an instant. I grabbed his jacket instinctively, clinging to him as though he were the only thing standing between me and certain doom.

"Here," he said, his voice warm and steady, "hold my hands." He extended his palms toward me, his confidence so disarming that it made my own nerves feel a bit foolish. Slowly, ever so slowly, I released my death grip on his jacket and slid my trembling hands into his.

"There," he said softly, his thumbs brushing reassuring circles over the backs of my hands. "Be confident, or you'll fall."

"Easy for you to say," I muttered under my breath, glancing down at the ice with a mix of terror and defiance. "My legs are so stiff from the cold I feel like they'll snap in half."

Lucien chuckled, the sound low and rich, like molten honey. "Always so dramatic," he teased, threading his fingers through mine as he took a small step backward, gently pulling me forward.

"Just match my movements," he instructed. His voice was calm, soothing, and so maddeningly self-assured that I almost forgot my fear. Almost.

My brows furrowed in concentration as I tried to follow his lead. My legs refused to cooperate, my body too tense to glide smoothly the way he did. Instead, I felt like a lump of wood teetering on the edge of disaster, certain that at any moment I'd go face-first into the ice.

Sensing my hesitation, Lucien squeezed my hands, and warmth bloomed from where his skin met mine, chasing away the biting chill that had settled in my fingers. The warmth crept up my arms and into my chest, soothing me in a way that only he could.

"See? You're already doing better," he encouraged, his voice laced with pride.

I frowned up at him, catching the faint curve of his lips. "Stop laughing at me," I huffed.

"I'm not laughing," he protested, though his golden eye sparkled with amusement.

"You're smiling," I pointed out accusingly.

"Am I not allowed to smile at my mate?" he countered, his smirk widening.

"No," I shot back, though my voice lacked conviction. "Not when I'm one slip away from breaking every bone in my body."

He laughed then, the sound so genuine and warm that I felt my annoyance melt away. "You're not going to fall," he promised.

"And if I do?" I challenged, narrowing my eyes at him.

"Then I'll catch you," he said simply, his voice steady and certain.

Something in the way he said it—like it wasn't just about ice skating, but about everything—made me falter. I swallowed hard, the moment of vulnerability making me cling to him just a little tighter.

"Now," he said, his tone light and teasing again, "let's try this without you looking like you're walking on hot coals."

I glared at him, but I couldn't stop the small laugh that bubbled up. His confidence was contagious, and as I let him guide me step by step across the ice, I felt my body begin to relax.

The fear was still there, lingering at the edges, but with Lucien's steady hands in mine and his unwavering gaze fixed on me, I started to believe that maybe I wouldn't fall. And even if I did, I knew he'd be there to catch me.

Eris - Cocoa

I buzzed with excitement as I topped my steaming mug of cocoa with an indulgent swirl of whipped cream, crowning it with tiny marshmallows that spilled over the rim. The warmth of the drink seeped into my hands as I cradled the mug, savoring the simple joy of the moment.

"Love?" Eris's voice, low and laced with sleep, called from the hallway. I glanced up just as he peeked his head around the corner, his copper hair deliciously ruffled, his sharp amber eyes softened by drowsiness.

"Morning, Eris," I said softly, a smile tugging at my lips. He blinked at me, his expression still crinkled with sleep, and shook his head wordlessly before padding into the room.

Before I could ask what he was doing, he closed the distance between us. Gently, his hands slid over mine, tugging me away from the counter and into the hallway with the sleepy drag of his feet.

"Eris," I began, my voice full of curiosity, "what are you—?"

He didn't answer, his silence as warm and grounding as his touch. His hands in mine felt like slipping into a sun-drenched blanket on a crisp autumn morning. He led me to our bedroom, nudging the door open with a lazy kick. Releasing my hands, he turned to face me, his sharp features soft in the early light.

In one swift motion, his hands found my waist, and he pulled me down onto the bed with him. "Eris," I sighed as he reached for the blankets, cocooning us in their warmth.

"It's too early," he murmured, his voice raspy and thick with sleep as he nestled into the crook of my neck.

"My cocoa's going to get cold," I protested half-heartedly, but the argument died on my tongue the moment he tightened his arm around me.

"Just a few minutes," he countered, his words brushing my skin like embers. His fingers began tracing slow, soothing circles along my back, their heat melting away the last of my resistance. He pressed a featherlight kiss to my neck, and I couldn't stop the warmth that bloomed in my chest, spreading like wildfire.

"Fine," I whispered, my resolve crumbling under his touch. "Just a few more minutes."

His only response was a soft hum of approval as I ran my fingers through his unruly hair, combing it away from his face. His quiet breaths and the rhythmic heat of his touch lulled me deeper into the comfort of the moment. Before I knew it, I'd drifted off, enveloped by his warmth.

I woke to the sensation of gentle kisses—one pressed to my forehead, another to my cheek, and then the tip of my nose. I blinked my eyes open, greeted by Eris's amber gaze, glowing with unspoken affection.

"Morning," I rasped, my voice heavy with sleep. "Again."

His lips curved into a soft smile as he leaned in, brushing a kiss against mine. His fingers cradled my jaw, the gesture tender enough to steal my breath.

"Morning, love," he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep. His thumb traced the curve of my cheek. "Think your cocoa's cold now?"

My eyes widened as the memory hit me. I scrambled out of bed, rushing to the kitchen as Eris's amused laugh echoed behind me. I skidded to a stop at the counter, frowning down at the abandoned mug. Tentatively, I dipped a finger into the drink. Ice cold.

"It's ruined," I said, pouting as I turned to Eris, who had followed me with his usual unhurried grace. "It was the last of the cocoa powder."

He leaned against the counter, his hair still a mess from sleep, and shook his head with a smirk. "You forget who I am."

Taking the mug from my hands, he held it between his palms. Within seconds, steam curled into the air, and the rich scent of cocoa filled the kitchen once more.

I smiled, biting my lip as I looked up at him. "Show-off."

"There," he said with a grin, handing the mug back to me.

Rising onto my toes, I pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, savoring the warmth of his skin. "Thanks, 'Ris," I murmured, cradling the mug close as I took a tentative sip. The heat spread through me, as rich and comforting as the male watching me with sleepy affection.

"You're welcome, love," he replied, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. His amber gaze held mine, filled with warmth, and I couldn't help but think there was no better way to start the day.

NSFW version here -> Link

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[drabblesdear]

It’s in my mind…

Sunday who viewed you as something akin to a god.

Sunday who worshipped you in Robin’s absence.

Sunday who would have done anything at your behest.

Sunday who did anything at your behest.

Sunday who, despite viewing you as such, refused to tell you anything about the inner-workings of Penacony.

Sunday who kept you ignorant for your own safety.

Sunday who acted as the perfect, welcoming head of oak family to you.

Sunday who acted as the kind, patient and innocent lover to you.

Sunday who went along with his plans under your gaze.

Sunday who just smiled and nodded, dismissing your concerns whenever you asked if he was alright.

Sunday, who, as he prepared to be a vessel for the order, wondered what you would think.

Sunday who buried those doubts along with his worries of the future.

Sunday who, as he was falling in Robin’s embrace, hoped with all his heart you wouldn’t be associated with his crimes.

Sunday who’s only request to his assigned guards was to not let you visit him during captivity.

Sunday who knew he wouldn’t be able to handle the disappointment and confusion in your eyes once you confronted him.

Sunday who escaped with a goal in mind: avoid you.

Sunday who didn’t not want to see you. Quite the opposite, actually.

Sunday who wanted to see you with all his heart, but knew your pure soul would try to help him.

Sunday who couldn’t allow even the possibility of you being hurt.

Sunday who carried his sins and burden to the Astral Express.

Sunday who’d secretly change the parlor car’s songs to your favorites when he could.

Sunday who would make your favorite dishes as his meal.

Sunday who did anything he could to try to make his own little pieces of you in his solitude.

Though in the end, Sunday who could never say goodbye.

“Sunday, my love.”

Same procedure: I’m posting a formatted, grammer checked + reread version of this on my main blog later.

Ig if it gets enough attention I’ll put a Sunday fluff idea [kinda like a part two to this] to paper and post it.

Earlier post’s base

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Please write a reader x Gregory house, they’re on a break and he calls her after doing the surgery in himself in the bathtub (happy ending please 🙏)

A/n: I'm sad already😩

It wasn't one of his best moments, something he wouldn't exactly say he was proud of. He thought he could do it, he was a doctor after all so it should have been easy.

Calling you was the most challenging part since you ended the relationship. He didn't blame you of course, not when he was such an ass. But he did miss you.

God did he miss you. He missed your laugh, how you made him feel happy.

So calling you seemed like the most logical thing to do. His voice was slurred, he didn't remembered much because that was when things became to blurred.

You slipped into his apartment, your gaze flicking around to find him. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you made your way to the bathroom.

“Greg?” You called out, your heart sinking as you noticed the lights were dim, the apartment was eerily quiet.

“Greg?” You called again, stepping further inside. The air smelled faintly metallic—like blood—and your pulse quickened.

Following the faint sound of water running and pushed open the bathroom door. Your breath getting caught in your throat at the sight before you.

House was slumped in the bathtub, blood staining the water around him. His leg was exposed, your gaze landing on the haphazard stitches he’d done on himself, the surgical tools scattered around the bathroom floor. His face was pale, his chest rising and falling shallowly.

“Greg!” You dropped to your knees beside the tub as your hands trembled reaching for him. “What the hell did you do?”

House’s eyes fluttered open, and he gave you a weak, but pained smirk. “Hey…sunshin. Fancy seeing you here.”

"You called me, said you needed me....House! You!"

The man's head slumped against the wall as a weak chuckle escaped his lips. "Did I!"

Your heart was pounding in your chest, panic and anger warring within you. “You… you did this to yourself? Are you insane?”

He gave a faint chuckle, though it was more of a grimace. “That’s… debatable.”

Grabbing a towel you pressed it gently but firmly against the wound. “This isn’t funny, Greg! You could’ve—” your voice cracked, as you took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. “You could’ve died.”

“I didn’t,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “You’re here. Always… here.” That was something he came to realize, why he called you.

Tears stung your eyes, but you pushed them back, to focused on stopping the bleeding. “We need to get you to the hospital.”

“No,” he said sharply, his hand weakly grabbing your wrist. “No hospital.”

“Greg, you need help—real help. You can’t just...I can't—”

“Y/m.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but the intensity in his eyes stopped you. “Just… give me a minute.”

Your gaze lingered on him, your own anger and fear bubbling to the surface. “A minute? You’re lying in a tub full of your own blood, and you want a minute?”

“I’m fine,” he insisted, though his voice lacked conviction. “Well… relatively.”

“Relatively?” You snapped, tears finally spilling over. “Greg, this isn’t fine! None of this is fine! You’re not invincible, no matter how much you act like you are.”

His expression softened slightly, and he reached up, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Didn’t mean to scare you,” he murmured.

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “You didn’t scare me, Greg. You terrified me.” A sob escaping your lips as you squeezed your eyes tightly shut.

For a moment, you two just stared at each other, the weight of everything unsaid hanging heavy in the air. Finally, House let out a small sigh, his smirk returning, though it was faint. “Guess I owe you an apology.”

“You owe me more than that,” You said, your voice trembling. “You owe me an explanation. But first, we’re getting you out of this tub and fixing this mess.”

With a surprising amount of strength for your size, you helped him out of the water, your medical training kicking in as you tended to his leg. Your hands were steady despite the emotions inside of you.

As you worked, House watched you, his usual mask of sarcasm slipping away. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

His heart clenching in his chest, he was already regretting ending things with you but he had thought you deserved better.

“Not a chance,” you said firmly, wrapping a bandage around his leg. “We’re going to talk about this. All of it.”

House gave a faint nod, the exhaustion catching up to him. “Figured.”

Once you had done all you have could you had helped him to the couch, tucking a blanket around him before sitting beside him. For a while, neither of you spoke, the silence heavy but not empty.

Finally, you broke the silence. “Greg, you don’t have to do everything alone. You have me. Let me help you.”

House glanced at you, his blue eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite name—vulnerability, maybe, or gratitude. “I know,” he said quietly.

You rested your hand on his, your fingers lacing through his. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

House closed his eyes, leaning back against the couch. For once, he didn’t argue or deflect. He simply nodded, letting himself believe, if only for a moment, that he wasn’t as alone as he always thought he was.

You both waiting for the paramedics to arrive though House knew it wouldn't be too long.

Now finally stabilized in the hospital, you kept the details light. The surgery went well and the man couldn't help but be grateful that you stayed by his side through it all.

The room was quiet, until you broke the silence. "I still love you Greg." Your voice was low, soft as you gave his hand a squeeze.

"Even after all the shit I do." Greg glanced at you, his thumb gliding over the back of your hand. "I was such an idiot for ending things, I didn't think I deserved you."

"Greg."

"Can we try...just one more time."

Gaze softening, you lent over placing a kiss to his forehead. "We can try, when you get out but do me favor and get some rest."

"Deal."

[dood-itsradical]

Wdym I just posted 3 days ago? Felt like 3 weeks 🙄 Also seeing small Jake makes me wanna pinch his cheek or dangle him upside down. He's so cute <3

"Is this you?!" You exclaimed, eyes widened at the baby photos in your hands.

"That's- um-" Jake couldn't even managed to finish his sentence when you let out an excited squeal. He held his face with embarrassment.

"You're so cute!"

"Were." He corrected you.

"Handsome then."

He sighed again. His ears turning red.

"Look at toddler you, must be so naughty back then huh? Huh? I can tell. But you got away with it because you were a daddy's boy." You poke his cheek, teasing him with baby voice. He swipe your hand away, "Were not!"

"Were to."

"Were not."

"Were to!"

"Were not..."

It didn't it make it any better when you hold up a picture and compare them side by side to his current (red) face. Your grin only went wider.

"I'm gonna keep one in my wallet."

"Hey!!"

Masterlist

[yaniluvs]

the way it used to be ⠀日 : surprising your old friend whom you spent your whole childhood with.

𓍯 idol!chan ʚଓ fem!reader ：（ 𝒾 ）0.8k── ༯ DRABBLE, fluff, childhood bsfs, reminiscing, platonic, short, very demure very cutesy, req. by anon . ⸝⸝𓂃 LiBRARY . /ᐠ.ꞈ.ᐟ\ྀིྀི

yani's note ˖˙ ᰋ hihi <3 another request fulfilled! youth mv is coming in a few minutes, railway is 3 days away, christmas eve is tomorrow! everything's going so quick. well, enough of my yap!! thanks to anon for the request, hope you like it! comments, requests, asks, likes and reblogs are always appreciated ! comment/ask if you want to be added to my mastertag ! happy reading <3

the studio hummed softly with the rhythm of creation. neon lights bathed the room in a faint blue hue, illuminating scattered notepads, empty coffee cups, and tangled wires. chris sat hunched over the mixer, his headphones cocooning him in a world of melody and beats. his fingers danced across the keyboard, and his lips moved silently to lyrics only he could hear.

the door creaked open, but he didn’t notice at first. not until a voice, familiar and warm like a memory, broke through his concentration.

“still drowning in wires and caffeine, i see.”

chris's head snapped up, his eyes widening as they landed on her. she stood there, arms crossed with a smirk playing on her lips, her figure outlined by the hallway light. y/n. his childhood best friend. the one he hadn’t seen in what felt like forever.

“y/n?” he exclaimed, pulling off his headphones and rising to his feet so quickly the chair nearly toppled. “what are you doing here?”

“surprising you, obviously,” she replied, stepping into the room. “thought you might’ve forgotten me with how busy you are, bangchan.”

“forget you?” chris shook his head, a grin spreading across his face. “impossible. you just stopped answering my texts!”

“oh, sure, blame me,” she teased, rolling her eyes before pulling him into a quick hug. “you’ve been busy saving the world with your music. i figured you didn’t need little ol’ me bothering you.”

“y/n, you’re ridiculous,” he laughed, though his voice softened with genuine fondness. “i could never be too busy for you. plus how'd you even find me here- and how did they let you in?”

“it took me a few calls with hannah to get to your little lair here, call me a stalker, but here i am. and as far as the security is concerned, felix helped.”

she laughed, glancing around the room. “this place screams ‘chris’ it’s chaotic, intense, and somehow cozy all at once.”

he rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling. “yeah, it’s a mess. you caught me in the middle of a session.”

“am i interrupting genius at work?”

“not genius, just me,” he quipped, leaning against the desk.

“but since you’re here, let’s catch up. it’s been too long.”

“chop chop, i've got coffees and chips, just like before.”

minutes later, they were strolling along the quiet streets. the city lights shimmered like stars brought to earth, casting reflections on the river they walked beside. the chill of the night nipped at their cheeks, but the warmth of shared laughter kept them moving.

“so,” y/n began, nudging him playfully. “remember when we tried to start a band in high school?”

he groaned, covering his face with his hands. “please don’t remind me. we were terrible.”

“terrible?” y/n gasped, dramatically, her eyes crinkling with amusement. “we were iconic. with our small studio at your place, my guitar, your vocals and oh so dear macbook. ”

“if anything, we were trendsetters.” she said dramatically, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

the two dissolved into laughter, the kind that made their sides ache. the city seemed to fade away, leaving only the echo of their voices and the gentle ripple of the river.

they found a spot by the water’s edge, sitting side by side on a bench. the moon hung high above them, casting silver light across their faces.

“it’s crazy, isn’t it?” y/n said softly, her gaze fixed on the horizon. “how much has changed.”

“yeah,” he murmured, resting his elbows on his knees. “feels like another lifetime sometimes.”

they fell into a comfortable silence, the kind only lifelong friends could share. the memories of childhood seemed to hover between them—lazy afternoons, endless chatter, and dreams that felt too big for their small hands to hold.

“you’ve done it, though,” y/n said suddenly, turning to him. “you’ve made those dreams come true.”

“i guess,” chris replied, his voice tinged with humility. “but it’s not the same without having people like you around.”

y/n’s smile softened. “you’re still you, though. the same chris who spent hours perfecting a two-minute song. the same chris who stayed up with me when i was scared of the dark.”

“and you’re still the same y/n who annoyed the hell out of me,” chan said, nudging her shoulder. “oh, AND the one who always believed in you, when you were busy being sappy with berry!” she countered.

they looked at each other, and for a moment, the weight of time lifted. they weren’t idol and friend, or two people living vastly different lives. they were just chris and y/n—two kids who had grown up but never apart.

as the night deepened, their laughter and stories carried on, intertwining with the wind. by the time they walked back to the studio, they felt lighter, as if they’d bottled a piece of the past to keep with them always.

mastertag ୨୧ @cosmicalily thank you luvie <3

[stellayuta]

girldad! yuta headcanon

~ Yuta's babygirl is absolutely embarrassed when her papa Yuta comes to pick her up after kindergarten. Much like her mom, she believes Yuta to be a bit of a wallflower. Little does babygirl know that every other mom waiting at the gate does a double take when Yuta arrives. By the time babygirl reaches the gate and jumps into Yuta's hands, the moms are crowded around him, begging for a play date.

~ Yuta’s little girl has a special morning routine where she picks out his tie for work, even though Yuta doesn’t wear ties most days. She’ll scrunch her nose, pick the brightest, most mismatched one, and insist, “This one makes you look like a prince, Papa!” Yuta always wears it, grinning through the teasing from his colleagues. He also wears all the bracelets, necklaces and tiaras loud and proud.

~ On rainy days, Yuta’s little girl loves putting on her yellow raincoat and matching boots to go “puddle hunting” with him. She always claims the biggest puddles are “special” and insists they jump in them together. He will be on standby with two huge towels to wrap up his babygirl so she won't be cold post the splashy fun.

~ Every Friday, Yuta brings his daughter a tiny bouquet of flowers when he picks her up from kindergarten, and she squeals, “For me?!” as though it’s the first time every time. "for papa's lil princess." yuta tells her. Her friends are so jealous of it, whenever they see it, they run to their impressed moms and nervous dads with tears in their eyes.

~ Babygirl would refuse to be taken care of by anyone other than Yuta when she's sick. Even after consistent pushing from her mommy, Yuta has to give up and take a leave from work to look after his babygirl who is pink in the face with swollen cheeks from the flu. She holds on to and suckle on Yuta's finger as she falls asleep. When she wakes up without a fever, she finds Yuta fast asleep beside her and giggles.

~ Yuta loves taking his babygirl on 'bring your child to work' days where the Jujutsu Society officials gawk at the mini Okkotsu, who is sits on her papa's shoulders and ogles at everything. Little does she know that her wimpy looking papa is one of the strongest sorcerers in the world and that no danger would ever reach her as long as he is alive.

<3

[bridgyrose]

Neo couldnt help but watch as the new girl to Lady Brownings was being bullied by a few of the older girls. It was a normal hazing process, but something about the girl kept her intrigued. Maybe it was her silver eyes or how young the girl was compared to everyone else. Either way, she wasnt going to watch the girl be bullied anymore.

She got up and made her way over to the girls and pushed them away from the new girl. She put herself in front of the girl and glared at the others. 

“And what are you going to do about it, Trivia?” one of the girls asked. 

Neo raised a fist, then lowered it with a smirk. The smirk changed to a smile as she stuck out her tongue as she made a snipping motion with her fingers as she stared at the girls. 

The lead girl scoffed and walked away. “Freak.” 

Neo stopped and lowered her fingers, turning to the girl that she had just saved. It was almost like looking at a mirror and seeing her younger self. Scared, weak, out of place… needing someone to step in and help. 

She knelt down and pulled out her scroll, typing quickly before showing the girl her question. “Are you okay?” 

The girl flinched before looking at the scroll and gave a nervous nod. “I-I am. Thank… thank you for helping me.” 

Neo nodded, erased her message, and typed a new one. “It gets easier.” 

“I’m not sure it ever does. Its not the first time someone bullied me because of my eyes. They’re strange enough for the color.” 

A frown crossed Neo’s lips, familiar with what the girl had been going through. She still wore the contact to give her pink eye a brown color because of her parents, but hearing that another person was going through the same torment… this wasnt something she could allow slide. Instead, she’d be the person this girl… no, her younger self, needed. A mentor. A friend.

She offered a hand to the girl and signed to the girl. “What is your name?” 

“Ruby,” Ruby answered as she took Neo’s hand. “Ruby Rose.” 

Neo flashed a smile at Ruby, her fingers moving slower “I would like to be your friend.” 

Ruby smiled. “I’d like that.” 

Neo helped Ruby up and started to walk her to the dorm. 

The weeks went by and Neo and Ruby became practically inseparable. Neo helped Ruby study, train, get used to the etiquette classes… everything that she needed to succeed. A smile crossed her lips as she watched her pick up on her lessons quickly, and even more proud as she found Ruby quickly becoming top of her class. 

She lowered her weapon with a smile as she panted, glancing at her aura. Ruby had done better, bringing her aura down into the yellow and starting to see through her tricks. She started to sign, her fingers relaxed. “You’re improving.” 

“It doesnt feel like I am,” Ruby said as she picked herself up. “I still didnt win and you’re still wiping the floor with me.”

“I’ve had some of the best tutors to train me when I was younger, but you’ll get there.” 

“Then maybe I’ll get you next time.”

Next time. Neo paused and looked at her scroll, her fingers shaking as she held it. When would next time be? She was only here until she could find the time to leave and to help Roman. And then there was Lady Beat and that room she seemed to disappear to… so many questions that needed answers. 

Ruby put a hand on Neo’s shoulder. “Everything alright?” 

Neo nodded and gave her a smile. “I’m not sure when next time will be. I will be going out tonight-” 

“Then let me come with you.” 

Neo paused. “Come with me?” 

“Yes, I can come with you. And then we can train when we have time-” 

“You’ll get in trouble if you follow me. And besides, what I’m going to do tonight will be dangerous.” 

“And I dont want to be left alone again!” 

Neo lowered her hands for a moment as she took a good look at Ruby. There was a sadness in her eyes that she hadnt noticed until now, not too unfamiliar to what she’d seen in her own eyes before meeting Roman. She signed once more, trying to understand. “What do you mean ‘again’?”

Ruby looked away as if she wanted to hide the pain she felt, her body trembled as she held her arm to her chest. “Dad… wasnt given a choice. Someone from the village we lived in called to check in on my sister and I while he was at work. It wasnt something he did often, but this time was different because of grimm sightings nearby. Yang had been attending Signal and was trained to start fighting grimm, but that didnt matter. In the end, it was either we were to be  sent to boarding school or taken away from him. So, he chose to send us here. Until Yang fought back. She was taken away and I… I was sent here. To keep me out of trouble.” 

Neo nodded as she listened to the story, her own heart felt like it was starting to break. While it wasnt the same reason she was sent to Lady Brownings, it certainly hurt to hear what Ruby had gone through. She walked over to Ruby and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder to comfort her, a smile crossing her lips. 

Ruby wiped a few tears away from her eyes. “Please, let me come with you.” 

“We leave tonight. But first, I have something I need to check,”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Everything had happened so quickly, and yet, she had never felt so… satisfied. A year had passed since her family’s manor had burned down along with her parents inside of it, Lady Browning’s Preparatory Academy had been shut down, and now she was free to be with Ruby and Roman. And yet, even in that satisfaction, she couldnt help but feel like something was missing.

“Roman told me I’d be able to find you here,” Ruby said as she sat down on the rooftop next to Neo. “We were supposed to train tonight.” 

“I’m sorry I missed it,” Neo signed as she kept her eyes towards the city. “I needed to think.” 

“Think about what?” 

“What I want to do.” 

“I thought you already knew what you wanted to do. Its why we’re still with Roman, isnt it?”

Neo shrugged and looked over at Ruby. She had dragged her into a life of crime, and yet, Ruby didnt seem to look disappointed in it as long as it meant trying to find her sister. But as she stared into the eyes of her friend, of the girl she was starting to love, the doubts had started to fade. 

Ruby smiled and got up. “I know what’ll make you happy. There’s a dust shop not too far away that we can go rob with Roman’s help.” 

“Are you sure?” Neo signed slowly.

“Of course. And I can get some stealth practice like you keep asking me to.” 

Neo smiled and nodded. “Sure.” 

“Great! I’ll go get him!” 

Neo couldnt help but watch as Ruby jumped down the building, red-lined black cloak fluttering in the wind before she turned into a flurry of petals. Her heart fluttered and she stood up to look over Vale once more. There was nothing more that she wanted in this world than to be with Roman and Ruby, no matter what it was that they wanted. She shattered piece by piece with her own semblance, ready to meet her partners on the street. 

[felixbit]

chestnut

pairing: hyunjin x gn!reader w. 0.8k genre: comedic fluff summary: your boyfriend, hyunjin, comes home on christmas day from sbs gayo daejeon after surprising you with a new look. he's shaved his hair and gone blonde. warnings: reader mourns the long hair but is very supportive. playful teasing a/n: this is literally just how i'm coping rn

New year and comeback season always meant new looks and fresh things. However, this was not expected.

You were at home, as always. Christmas was a busy day for Hyunjin, away at SBS Gayo Daejeon performing and looking pretty for the cameras. It was routine, but you always enjoyed tuning in and seeing the talent from him and his group as they performed.

There was a red carpet to unveil looks, but you were preparing some food for dinner that night. Things were getting hectic in the kitchen and time passed you by.

But your phone started to buzz. And buzz. And buzz.

Unable to ignore the repeating notification noises, you stopped what you were doing to figure out what had your phone blowing up. Notifications from posts and texts from friends... what was happening?

Everyone was talking about Hyunjin. As normal as it was for him to get the world's attention, the sheer amount of notifications was concerning. Something was obviously going on.

So, you opened your feed. It didn't take more than a single scroll for the picture to hit your timeline. On the red carpet, looking sharp and stunning, was Hyunjin. Beautiful outfit, many piercings, eyebrow slit fresh.

Oh, and his head was completely shaved and dyed blonde.

You stared at your phone in shock for what felt like forever. The two second clip of him looking stunning for the cameras replayed over and over as your brain tried to pick up the pieces.

You knew he wouldn't have his phone on him and able to look at it for a bit, but that did not stop you from blowing up his texts. Nothing outrageous or upset, but a lot of spammed questions and confusion got the message across pretty well. It was the least you could do.

Reeling from the overwhelming knowledge of your boyfriend's look, you decided to put your phone down and get back to cooking. You had to take your mind off of it or you might go insane.

The whole time, all you could think about was him. How drastic it was, how hot he looked, the whole bit. Hwang Hyunjin was taking up your entire mind.

Any task that you tried to do seemed impossible to entirely focus on. Every moment had you wanting to grab your phone and scroll, finding every possible photo of him. Hyunjin being a world-famous idol did not make this any easier.

Giving in, you resigned to doom scrolling. If you weren't able to focus, you wouldn't get anything done. Might as well just drool over how good he looks, you thought.

When he finally got done with the show, he was able to text you back briefly. He returned your texts with spam of his own, a bunch of apologies and letting you know when he'd be back.

Waiting for him to come home seemed impossible. The performance that the group gave was phenomenal as always. However, nothing could prepare you for seeing the look in person. Time passed dreadfully slow.

As you had finished up dinner, you heard the door swing open. You turned around to see Hyunjin out of breath. He waved to you, a shy smile on his face as he hung up his coat and took off his shoes. He approached slowly, looking uncertain.

"Do you... like it?" He finally asked, his voice shaky and small.

Staring at him for a few seconds, you smiled and nodded. "Of course I do, but why didn't you tell me?"

"It was supposed to be a surprise! A Christmas gift, you know?" Hyunjin tried to explain, breathing still heavy from running, "I thought it was a really big change, and I was worried you'd say no."

You looked at him incredulously. "Why would I say no to you wanting to try something new?"

"I... don't know." Hyunjin climbed into a chair, tilting his head back and closing his eyes as he fully caught his breath.

You watched him for a few moments, quietly observing his new look for yourself. He looked stunning, his sharp features accentuated by the new hair and the piercings grabbing your eye.

Although, you had something on your mind. "Oh, your poor hair," You lamented jokingly, "If you had warned me, I would've cherished it more if I knew it was the last time I'd see it."

"Aish, you'll see it again," Hyunjin groaned, standing up and looking at you, "Just not for a while."

"You better grow it back out," You retorted, walking over and running your fingers through his soft, short hair.

Hyunjin grinned and shrugged his shoulders. "We'll see."

"Hwang Hyunjin."

"Okay, okay, sorry."

As you plated your dinner with him, you looked over and snickered. "God, you really do look like a chestnut. Changbin was right."

"What did he call me?" Hyunjin scoffed, "I'm not a chestnut."

"Chestnut, dumpling, flour boy. You're becoming the real grocery list."

"I am not!"

[luckyspot]

That feeling when you have an idea for a story where Stolas is close friends with Angel Dust and Blitzo hears him call, asking for "his usual", to which Angel is heard squealing in joy and remarking he'll "get the bed ready".

Stolas sneaks away after hours to which Blitzo follows him, wondering if Stolas is regretting trying to protect him.

Charlie welcomes Stolas to the hotel and shows him up (with Stolas asking if she would join them only for to decline) and he walks up to Angel's room.

Scales the building and sees Husk entering Angel's room with a tray and "fancy-ass lotion and sh*t" and Blitzo barges in gun blazing...

Only to see Stolas and Angel laid out on a pallet of blankets in lounge wear, Angel comforting Stolas and Husk chiming in best he can.

(Including Husk talking with Blitzo and the two of them bonding over their respective Bottoms and some heavy duty drinks.)

You want to write all that...but you're scared of writing the characters OOC....

[haroldhearsawho]

@oopsiedaisiesbaby Since you wrote something for me here’s something for you that’s been brewing in my head for awhile now:

Ok so hear me out- I don’t know how people feel about rpf (I mean technically Clegan is rpf) but this picture of Austin and Callum has given me all sorts of ideas, I can’t help it 😩:

So I’m thinking they’ve always flirted with one another but always made it out it be a joke, or like they’d back off as soon as or before it got too serious. Like they’d both say off hand comments or remarks about/to the other that always has the other reeling back and wondering, second guessing everything but convincing themselves they’re trying to make it into something it’s not, seeing things that aren’t there, looking too far into it. And the way Austin looks at Callum- it’s hard for Callum to look back sometimes, it feels so intense and sensual and he’s afraid of his own expression giving anything away. But Callum tells himself Austin looks at everyone that way, he has very intense eye contact and it can easily come across as sexual when he doesn’t mean for it to. So they’ve been dancing around one another for as long as they’ve known each other.

Also- as far as their sexuality goes, in my head, Callum has never really been interested in men, but there have been more than a few times where he’s found stereotypical “pretty boys” and “twinks” attractive like he would a woman and thought about what it would be like to have sex with them, and it wasn’t a repulsive thought, but he always buried that in the back of his head. Until he met Austin and then all bets were off, not even to himself could he pretend he didn’t want to absolutely wreck him. But he told himself it was because it/he was Austin, like everyone wants him, he just has that affect on people. And he’s just so fucking gorgeous and lovely that he defies gender and sexuality.

And then for Austin, well- I think he’s definitely felt attraction to men before. More so than Callum. But it’s also something he’s buried deep down and not dealt with or acted upon (except for maybe a few make out sessions or mutual jerking off/hand jobs with his male peers as a teen), because he has a lot of hang ups about it, partly due to how he’s perceived by the public as a pretty and feminine man, so he often feels the need to overcompensate in the opposite direction, also because he doesn’t want to get typecast as that type of man all the time. And also because of so much of the unwanted attention and attraction he has received from grown and older men since puberty. He’s had creepy old and middle aged men creep on him since he was a teenager and so he still feels uncomfortable about it, still gets the creeps sometimes when an older man will make a comment toward/to him or touch him in what could be an intimate way. I imagine he had quite a few uncomfortable or outright inappropriate interactions with or comments directed at him by male executives, producers, and directors as a young teen auditioning for and landing roles on Disney and Nickelodeon, and so obviously that made the “finding men attractive” part of his brain shut off completely, even though men closer to his age (who he was actually attracted to on some level) weren’t the issue and weren’t who made him feel uncomfortable.

So, Callum and Austin have been dancing around each other since they first met. But that night at the Boys in the Boat premiere, Austin gets uncharacteristically sloshed for whatever reason, maybe he just was in a good happy mood and felt safe and so he let himself go a bit. (He always feels safe with Callum). Callum is finding it very entertaining to see Austin so unguarded and carefree; Austin is always friendly and approachable, but he’s careful with who he opens up completely to and who he allows himself to be vulnerable around. Callum is one of the lucky few who he trusts to do so around, and Callum carries that privilege like a badge of honor. Austin is very flirty with Callum throughout the night, and gets more and more so, and touchier as well, the drunker he gets. And by the end of the night, Austin is completely defenseless, with zero inhibitions, plastered over and leaning heavily on Callum to hold him up or else he couldn’t stand by himself, smiling brightly and lovingly at Callum and looking up at him from under his lashes like he always does, but now it’s even more pointed, more intense, and it has Callum blushing deeply and turning his gaze away.

“He’s so lovely, even when he’s plastered,” Callum thinks to himself. “Let’s get you back to your hotel room, big guy, I think you’ve had enough fun for one night” is what he says out loud instead. Austin doesn’t argue, just giggles like Callum said something super funny and leans into him even heavier.

Callum gets his driver to take them both to the hotel Austin is staying at and tells him to wait while he walks Austin up to his room and makes sure he’s okay. In the elevator, Austin lays his head against Callum’s shoulder and looks up at him with a super serious expression on his face, and says “I feel safe with you, Cal.” Callum's heart flutters and melts in his chest and he swallows before he responds. “I’m always here for you, mate, you know that.” Austin smiles at that and leans his head again back on Callum’s shoulder.

Callum gets Austin up and into his hotel room, putting Austin’s arm around his shoulders and holding onto his hand that’s around his neck, trying not to think about how his hand easily wraps around Austin’s entire wrist. The whole time Austin is just hanging off of him. Once he gets him into his room, he bends down to help Austin take off his shoes, but as he does, Austin stops him with a hand on his shoulder and pulls him back up. “Stay the night with me here, Cal?” he asks with those big blue puppy dog eyes.

“I can’t, my driver is waiting for me outside the hotel,” Callum replies truthfully. He can’t deny that he wants to stay, but he knows what a terrible idea that would be for so many reasons, most of all being that he knows Austin will be embarrassed in the morning and it will be awkward as hell. Austin pouts a little bit and oh God, he’s so adorable, this drunk 32 year old grown man pouting looking like he’s about 12.

“You’ll be okay, let’s just get you to bed,” Callum says as he helps maneuver Austin to the bedroom in the hotel suite. As he’s trying to get Austin to sit or lay down on the bed from where he’s still hanging off of him, Austin is looking up at him intensely again from under those damn lashes and rasps, “Kiss me, Cal.”

He’s looking at him completely open. No inhibitions. Just pure, deep desire. And yeah, Callum’s entire body feels like it’s on fire. He audibly gasps. There’s a heat growing in his groin and his heart is beating rapidly in his chest and his palms are sweating and his face is on fire and no, this can’t be happening, what is happening right now. He’s got to be imagining this.

But that’s right, Austin is drunk. He’s not thinking straight, that’s all. He doesn’t have control of his faculties at the moment. He won’t even remember saying it in the morning. He looks away from Austin’s intense gaze and manages to choke out, “I can’t, Aus. You’re-you’re drunk.” Austin, damn him, gets that stupidly adorable and heartbreaking pout back on his face. His eyes even seem to be filling with tears, his forehead wrinkles up.

“Why won’t you kiss me?” he whines. Callum at first feels absolutely heartbroken until he realizes that Austin has probably never been rejected or denied a kiss once in his life; he’s probably genuinely confused with Callum’s answer. He laughs under his breath at that. “God, the irony, if he only knew how much I want to” he thinks.

“I cant, Aus. I’m sorry. Come on, let’s get you into bed.” Once he’s gotten him to lay down, Austin closes his eyes and it seems like it will only be a few seconds before he’s passed out. Callum pats him on the thigh and says, “I’ll text you tomorrow,” as he heads out the door and back down to where his driver is parked outside waiting.

The next day, Austin texts him around noon just to thank him for getting him safely back to his hotel room, and apologizes for being so out of it. Callum responds that it wasn’t a hassle and that he was glad he had a good time and enjoyed himself. Neither of them mention what Austin had said. Callum doesn’t ever ask him if he remembers what he said that night. They return to their normal dynamic, and luckily (or not) it doesn’t change anything about their friendship or feel awkward or weird at all.

Then I think maybe months later, after the Masters of the Air press tour has wrapped (in which there was a hell of a lot more flirting and touching), Austin texts Callum when it’s in the middle of the night (super early morning) in the UK and late at night in the US, asking if he’s awake. The buzz of his phone on his nightstand wakes him up and he responds “Now I am, thanks” and then his phone is ringing.

“What’s the matter?” He asks when he picks up because this isn’t like Austin at all.

“Cal,” Austin breathes on the other line. His voice is raspier and even deeper than normal if that’s even possible. Immediately Callum is awake and feels a sharp heat pooling in his groin.

“Cal, please tell me you wanted to kiss me that night. Please tell me you wanted it just as much as I did.” Austin sounds a bit tipsy, not fully sober, and Callum wants to curse him out for torturing him like this. “Austin are you-”

“I’m not drunk, Callum. I’ve had a couple drinks to loosen up but I’m not drunk. I’m just sick of pretending. And I want you right now. I want you so badly, Cal, I can’t take it anymore.”

Callum hears rustling around on the other line and realizes that Austin is touching himself. And at that realization, all bets are off.

“Jesus Christ, Austin, are you touching yourself right now?”

“Yeah” he breathes, his breath hitching a bit. Hearing Austin in this state, it’s something Callum had imagined so often but never thought he’d actually get to hear. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it as he reaches into his pants and pulls his cock out and starts tugging on it.

“Jesus, Austin, you have no idea, no idea how bad I want you. Wanted you for so long, it’s been torture not being able to touch you the way I want to. You have no idea what you do to me, have no idea the things I want to do to you.”

Austin moans on the other side of the phone. Callum is enthralled with how high his breathy moans are, so much higher than his deep voice regularly.

“Tell me,” Austin breathes.

“God, baby, I just wanna get my mouth on you, all over you. Wanna make you feel so good. Wanna do everything to you, with you. Anything you want, baby boy. You’re so fucking gorgeous, Aus. The way you look at me sometimes- You drive me fucking crazy.”

By this point they’re both jerking themselves off loudly, they both can hear the other and they’re both close, picking up speed.

“Wanna hear you, baby. Wanna hear how good you feel, thinking about me there making you feel good instead.”

Callum feels high, drunk, delirious. He still can’t believe this is actually happening.

“So good, Cal. Wish you were here touching me.”

“Yeah” Callum grunts back, he’s at the point where he doesn’t have any words left to use, his mind is fogged by white hot desire.

“Sometimes I fuck myself on my fingers and imagine it’s your cock inside me,” Austin rasps.

And that about does Callum in.

He groans loudly, “Yeah? You want my cock, baby?”, he’s proud that he is able to get that much out in response.

Austin moans on the other end “Yeah, I want it. Want your cock so bad. Been thinking it about for so long, now, Cal.”

That’s all it takes for Callum to come all over himself and his bedsheets. He can tell Austin is close on the other end.

“Come on baby, want you to come for me. Wanna hear you come. Know you sound so pretty when you do, while you’re thinking about having my cock in you.”

Austin keens at that and Callum can hear him finishing on the other end, high breathy moans and gasps filling the space. God, he sounded even more beautiful coming than Callum ever imagined, and he’d imagined it plenty.

“Jesus Christ, Austin, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he says once he gets his voice back fully. Austin laughs breathily on the other end, still breathing heavily.

“Wow, Austin. That was- just wow. So fucking hot. Damn.” Austin laughs breathily again. They’re silent for a few moments, catching their breaths, and Callum starts to get a bit nervous.

“Now what did I do to deserve all that, huh? What provoked all this? Not that I’m complaining,“ he asks.

“Was at a brand event tonight, and this male brand ambassador was all over me. And I’d had a few drinks- I’m not drunk, I promise- and all I could think about was how I did want a man touching me like that. But not him, or any other man, I just wanted you. Have always wanted you, Cal. I- sometimes I feel uncomfortable with male attention, having men wanting me. But you- you’re the man that I want, Cal. I want you to want me. And well, I used to tell myself I was just seeing things that I wanted to see, but I could have sworn you looked at me like you wanted me back that night- That night at the premiere, when you brought me back to the hotel- I could have sworn you wanted to kiss me, even through my drunken haze. The way you put your arm around my waist sometimes, how you touch my face. I love when you do those things, Cal. The way you had your hand wrapped around my entire wrist that night I was drunk- I loved how it made me feel small, protected. I love how much bigger you are than me, how you make me feel safe.”

“What city are you in right now?”

“…Huh?”

“What city are you in right now, Aus?”

“I-I don’t understand what that has to do with anything at the moment.”

“Because I’m looking up the next flight out of London that I can get on so that I can get to wherever you are right now. Now that I know you want me to touch you, I can’t stand another second of not being able to get my hands on you like I want to. What city are in right now, Austin?”

“New York,” Austin breathes.

“I’ll be there by this afternoon.”

[multi-fandom-imagine]

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐲 || Gregory House ||

A/n: House would totally be a girl dad.

It was early an Saturday morning, and the sun was barely peeking through the windows when Lilly your six year shuffled into the living room, still in her pajamas with her favorite stuffed giraffe tucked under her arm. She rubbed her eyes sleepily, glancing around to find her dad sitting on the couch with a mug of coffee, his cane leaning against the armrest.

House glanced up from his phone, smirking as he noticed her. “Morning, Trouble. You’re up early.”

Lilly yawned, her messy hair sticking out in all directions. “I couldn’t sleep.” She climbed up onto the couch beside him, her small hands clutching the giraffe tightly.

House raised an eyebrow, taking another sip of his coffee. “Couldn’t sleep, huh? That’s a new one. What do you want?”

Lilly grinned mischievously, already sensing her dad’s playful tone. “Can we watch Bluey?”

House blinked, his face scrunching in mock confusion. “What’s Bluey? Is it that show with the talking dogs?”

Lilly nodded eagerly, bouncing a little on the couch. “It’s the best show ever! Please, Daddy?”

House let out a dramatic sigh, leaning back as if the request was the most taxing thing he’d ever heard. “The things I do for you, kid. Fine, but only because you said ‘please.’”

Lilly squealed with delight, grabbing the remote and navigating to the show like a pro. Within seconds, the theme song filled the room, and House found himself staring at animated dogs prancing around on the screen.

“Okay, so what’s the deal with this?” House asked, leaning forward slightly. “Are they just… dogs who act like people? Do they have jobs? Is this some kind of social commentary?”

Lilly giggled, snuggling closer to him. “They’re just a family, Daddy. Like us! Bluey is the big sister, like me, and Bingo is her little sister. They play games all the time.”

House raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning. “So, you’re saying you’re like Bluey? Does that make Ethan and Emma Bingo?”

Lilly thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah! And you’re like Bandit. He’s the daddy dog.”

House let out a snort. “Bandit, huh? Is he sarcastic and grumpy, too?”

“No,” Lilly said seriously, tilting her head. “He’s funny and plays games all the time. You’re kind of like him, but with more grumpiness.”

House chuckled, ruffling her hair. “Fair enough, kiddo.”

As the episode played on, Lilly kept glancing up at her dad, giggling at his reactions to the antics of Bluey and Bingo. At one point, when Bandit was roped into a particularly ridiculous game, House shook his head, muttering, “That’s not how dads work. We don’t play hide and seek in underpants.”

Lilly burst into laughter, her head resting against his arm. “Yes, you do! You just don’t know it yet!” Her little fingers grabbing a fist full of her father's shirt still giggling.

“Pretty sure I do,” House quipped, though try as me might he couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his lips.

By the time you had came downstairs, the living room was filled with the sound of Bluey episodes back-to-back. You stopped in the doorway, your heart melting at the sight of your daughter curled up beside House, her head resting against his chest.

“What’s going on here?” You asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“Morning bonding,” House replied, not taking his eyes off the screen. “Apparently, I’m Bandit now.”

Letting out a chuckle you walked over placing a kiss to his temple. “Well, Bandit, you’re doing a great job.”

Lilly looked up, beaming. “Daddy’s watching Bluey with me!”

You smiled, sitting on the arm of the couch and running a hand through Lilly’s hair. “You’ve got him wrapped around your little finger, don’t you?”

“Obviously,” House muttered, though there was no real bite in his tone as he glanced over at you smirking. “For the record, this show isn’t half-bad. I mean, it’s no ‘General Hospital,’ but I can see the appeal.”

Lilly giggled again, squeezing her giraffe as she settled back against her dad. “Daddy likes Bluey!” she sang, clearly triumphant.

Eye's glancing at you, House shook his head. "Just don't tell anyone at the hospital."

"No promises." You winked.

[dood-itsradical]

Any female specimen on their periods? This one is for you. + worker!reader + no specific pairing.

"This. Sucks." You muttered out of spite.

You chose a bad day to go out for this stupid mission. Not only you are on your period but you are also craving random shit. You are hungry, dehydrated and worse of all you are having cramps.

You hate moving. But you also feel like punching things.

Yes. That could work. The precise hormone to unleash your unspoken anger. And you did punch harder. Your strength goes beyond than normal. Goo pointed out himself.

You beat him up too after that. Just because you feel like it. Or he's just punchable like that. Even Samuel didn't wanna deal with you as he quoted "woman shit". Taejin was confused but quickly got the memo. Eugene is the unfazed one. He shoo you away for you to calm yourself down. Told you to get a week day off or something. At least he was considerate enough.

But no. You need to punch something. While you're at it you went to buy more pads and other necessities.

"Melon flavoured face mask? Interesting." Goo hummed, rubbing his chin as he pick up the package from the isle. "Banana flavour? That would've smell funny." He puts them into your cart.

You were too busy with your options of pads as he came to joined too. "What are the differences between wings and no wings? Do they...fly?"

You left the store with your goods after giving him another heavy beatdown.

"Cucumber." Gun offered you the plastic bottle the other day. "Good for intestine." You accepted it. Which also comes with heat pads. At least you can tolerate one guy in this place to know basic knowledges of health and diet.

Masterlist

[disappearinginq]

10

So, having not actually watched the end of season 4 for Outer Banks, nor will I ever, I will simply go off what people said happened - and fix it.

“I can’t find a pulse!” John B cried, his fingers jammed underneath JJ’s chin, two fingers pressed against the side of his neck as JJ’s head lolled to one side.

“Did you even take first aid?!” Pope demanded, and shoved John B out of the way. He put his fingers against JJ’s carotid, searching for a beat.

“I was just doing that!”

“You had your fingers on a tendon, not an artery,” Pope corrected. Please be there, please...he pressed against JJ’s still warm skin with bruising force, promising an apology when they got JJ to a hospital. “I got it!”

[bridgyrose]

Fuck it, here's a little something for it.

Pyrrha watched Jaune as he trained, not quite sure how much of his story she really believed. For someone who claimed to have no training at all, his stance and movements seemed much like a person trying too hard to be inexperienced. Precise strikes that were too practiced to go unnoticed, footing in the right spots to keep his balance and to help keep his shield in place for every strike. 

And then there was the way he held himself. The smile he wore was genuine, but his eyes showed the pain that he tried to hide every time he looked at his teammates. He talked as if he’d lived a lifetime, experienced more life than what he was willing to say. And sometimes, when no one else was around, she swore she heard him talk to himself. 

“I think that’s enough training for today,” Pyrrha finally said as she walked over to him. 

Jaune paused. “But we just started.” 

“And you’re already doing well.” 

“But you need to teach me-” 

Pyrrha struck at him with her spear, a smirk crossed her lips as she watched him block her with ease. “If you can block me that easily, I dont think you need any training.” 

Jaune pulled his shield back. “Lucky block?” 

“Why are you lying to me?” Pyrrha sheathed her spear and turned away from Jaune, leaning against the railing of the balcony they had been training on. “You said you’ve had no training, but when I watch you, you look like someone who’s fought to survive. Why lie to me?” 

“I wasnt… technically lying…” 

“Then what’s going on?” 

“I… I cant tell you.” 

Pyrrha let out a sigh and turned to look at Jaune once more, her heart pound in her chest as she looked into his eyes. “Jaune…” 

Jaune sighed and pulled Pyrrha into a hug. “I had to ask you. It was important I did.” 

“Why? Why hide that you know how to fight? You could’ve kept Cardin from bullying you-” 

“But then the timeline would be messed up!” 

“I’m not sure I follow.” 

“I-I cant… explain it.” Jaune sighed and let go of Pyrrha. “Not yet.” 

“When?” Pyrrha asked. “When can you?” 

“I dont know. Maybe after the Vytal Festival. But for now I need you to trust me and continue with these training sessions with me. Please.” 

Pyrrha looked into his eyes once more. If there was a lie anywhere, his eyes hid it well. It didnt matter if he lied to her about his training or what he’d gone through before coming to Beacon, he was still her partner. “Alright, but you have to promise me that you’ll tell us everything then.” 

“Us?” Jaune asked. 

“You dont owe just me an explanation, you owe it to Ren and Nora too. They’ve been just as worried about you as I have. And please, no more lies, okay?” 

Jaune smiled. “No more lies.” 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Blake pulled Weiss into an empty room and locked the door. “Alright, what’s going on?” 

“I dont know what you mean-” 

“You know *exactly* what I mean.” 

Weiss looked away from Blake. “There’s nothing going on.” 

“I know when someone’s hiding something, Weiss.” Blake sighed and sat down. “You knew I was a faunus before I came out to Ruby and Yang, you’ve been disappearing to keep an eye on Cinder and her teammates, and then you’ve been trying to talk us out of participating in the Vytal Tournament. Something’s going on and I want to know what it is.” 

“I… I cant tell you.” 

“Then can you at least explain how you knew Roman would be at the docks with the White Fang?” 

“I cant.”

“Then what can you explain?” Blake asked. “I can overlook the small stuff, like how you knew how Ruby liked her coffee before meeting her or helping me ask Yang on a date. But everything else? Either your semblance is really clairvoyance or you’ve made a few really lucky guesses.” 

“I… I want to tell you, I want to tell all of you, but I… I cant…” Weiss finally sat down next to Blake and pulled her arm to her chest. “There are things I know that could change how everything plays out if I tell you. And I dont know what will happen if those things change.” 

“We could find out.” 

“And what if it ruins everything? I made a promise to do everything the same way as best to my knowledge and only make small changes. Leading us to Roman, not freaking out about you being a faunus and letting you come out on your own… changes like that are fine. And then there’s others that I’m… I’m not sure what will happen if I make any larger ripples than this. I dont want to lose any of you as my teammates or friends, or see something drastic change and not be able to stop it.” 

Blake put a hand on Weiss’s shoulder. “You wont lose any of us.” 

“But I almost did!” Weiss took a breath to calm herself. “I almost lost you all before and I dont… I want to make sure I dont have to go through any of that again.” 

“Then why not tell us what you know? We can help you and you dont have to do all of this alone.”

“Not… not yet. I need… I need to make sure that I know I’m on the right path.” 

“Then when will you tell us?” 

“After the Vytal Festival,” Weiss answered. “But I need to make sure a few things happen first before I say anything. The less you know, the less of a chance for anything to go wrong.” 

“Fine.” Blake got up and started to head to the door. “If Yang and Ruby start to ask, what are you going to tell them?” 

“I… I’ll tell them the same thing.” 

“Then I’ll hold you to your promise. But please let us know if there’s anything you need from us. You already made me promise to not keep any more secrets, we need you to do the same.” 

Weiss nodded and stayed in her seat as Blake left the room. Once she was alone, she pulled out her scroll to look for Jaune’s name before sending him a text. 

“We need to tell them” 

Your knights in time au gives me some ideas.

I might have to write something out but I could see Blake and Pyrrha would be the first to ask what's going on.

Blake knows when someone's hiding something and watching the way Weiss act around everyone already feels off. She talks as if she's holding back information she already knows about her teammates and friends, when they meet Cinder, she can see the rage that Weiss holds back as if they have an unspoken history. What finally pushes her to talk to Weiss about what's going on is how she acts at the Vytal Festival. She doesn't talk to Winter, she watches Cinder and her team closely, and she seems to watch the sky for grimm.

Pyrrha, on the other hand, ends up asking Jaune almost immediately. He claims to have no training but fights like a seasoned warrior and seems to act much older than he looks.

If you end up writing something out, I’d love to see it! Blake and Pyrrha WERE the ones I thought would figure it out first :]

[khioneee]

simon is one of the girls (sort of)

boyfriend!simon was always invited to girls’ night—not out of obligation, but because everyone genuinely wanted him there. he fit into the group effortlessly, his quiet, protective presence becoming a staple at every gathering. whether it was lounging around in pajamas with face masks on or heading out for a wild night at the club, boyfriend!simon was part of the plan.

if it was girls’ night, boyfriend!simon was there. need someone to open a bottle of wine? he had it uncorked in seconds. carrying heavy bags for a night in? already done. if the group was heading to the club, simon was always the first to volunteer to drive everyone home safely at the end of the night.

boyfriend!simon never overstepped, but he wasn’t a silent bystander, either. when conversations got lively, he’d chime in with the perfect sarcastic remark or sly observation, earning a mix of giggles and mock glares. and when a topic turned to relationship drama, he always gave it to you and your friends straight.

“dump the bloke,” he’d say bluntly, not even looking up from his drink. “if i hear his name one more time, i’m blocking his number myself.”

your friends always groaned, but soon enough, they started messaging him directly for advice.

out on the town, boyfriend!simon was the designated protector. no one had to ask—he was always at the edge of the group, watching for anything suspicious. he made sure no one lingered too close, and if someone tried to chat up one of your friends unwantedly, simon’s presence alone was enough to send them packing. if they didn’t get the hint, simon would step forward, voice low and deadly calm: “you’ve got somewhere else to be, mate.” that always did the trick.

despite his intimidating size, boyfriend!simon never felt out of place during your quiet nights in. he sat comfortably among blankets and pillows, scrolling on his phone as face masks dried and reality tv droned in the background. your friends teased him mercilessly about it, but he didn’t mind.

“you’re basically one of us now, si,” one of them joked once.

he gave a small shrug, not looking up. “just don’t expect me to paint my bloody nails, yeah?”

with boyfriend!simon around, you and your friends could relax fully, knowing he’d take care of everything—from heavy bags to creeps at the bar. he wasn’t just there for you—he was there for everyone you cared about, making sure nothing went wrong on his watch.

one night, after everyone had left and it was just the two of you, you leaned into him, curious. “why are you so sweet to my friends?”

boyfriend!simon didn’t miss a beat, brushing a strand of hair from your face as he answered softly, “because they mean a lot to you—and you mean everything to me.”

an. i desperately need a man like him.