november drabbles

[rurusayshi]

november turned out to be the month during which i wrote the most and i wasn’t even doing nanowrimo? i could have pushed for it, especially considering that yesterday, i checked the total word count across various scattered documents in my folders, and it amounted to around 30k words? to say i am shocked would be understatement, i don't think i've ever written anything close to that amount in my native language (in a month i should add) and i've been writing. for years. sure role playing doesn’t require that much but i’m very impressed with myself!

i’ve been working on this minho/changbin 5+1 space royalty au for most of this month which is for minbin bingo on twitter, and i'm very close to finishing it! just started the +1 part yesterday, let’s see if i can complete it before december arrives. it's basically about changbin assuming minho is some type of criminal five times whereas minho just likes to flirt with him in his own weird ways.

some snippets under the cut

ch 1:

“Yes!” Mr. Lee, no, Minho starts, excited. “And now that we finally drop all the formalities, tell me you agree with me. That the reds suit us both.”

“Stop it,” The taller guy speaks once more. His voice keeps the same tired and annoyed tone. “you are scaring him.”

That actually stills Minho, for a moment of heartbeat at least. He checks him out, eyes lingering on his body longer than Changbin feels comfortable. Than says, “For once you are right Kim Seungmin. He seems to be the marshmallow type. Just like Mr. Ahn here.”

The Kim Seungmin guy face palms. It's as loud as it can be, all the while Changbin’s thinking what the hell is a marshmallow type and its connection between him and Ahn Sanghun.

Does it mean he is on the hit list? Or he is an easy target? Easy to squish so that he can’t breathe at all?

Jisung says his muscles are squishable. Is that what it is?

ch 2:

“It’s not like I will strip, Kim Seungmin,” he defends himself with the biggest pout. “When did you see me commit public indecency?”

“The correct question is, when did I see you not,” Seungmin gives Minho a sharp, piercing look, his expression tinged with unmistakable exhaustion. “And the answer is never, because you always get away thanks to me.”

“I will show you how wrong you are with those senseless accusations,” With his chin, Minho points out the sleeping figure between his arms. “You just have to carry him a bit.”

“Who is that?” It’s Jisung again. As noisy as ever.

“Oh him? This is—“

“—he seems pretty exhausted already. Do we really want to wake him up?” Changbin cuts in when he senses where this conversation is heading. He doesn’t trust Minho nor does he want to get fined. “I mean,” he tries. ”if we shift him, we might disturb his sleep, which I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate.”

If he is not already dead, he thinks.

“Don’t worry,” Minho chuckles with a look so sure. ”Yongbokkie here is not waking up any time soon.”

Maybe he is already dead, he thinks.

ch 3:

“And that’s right, I’m not,” Minho finishes his drink and starts playing with the glass, shaking the remaining ice until they spill over the table. Then he draws little stars with the melting ice. “But I did cry because of you.” He mumbles, voice not higher than a whisper.

What the heck?

Changbin is left perplexed. Given Minho's history, it must be another trap. Perhaps the entire setup, beginning with Hyunjin's visit to his workplace, leading up to Minho's display of humility and authenticity, all was laid upon himself as a game of deceit. But instead he says, “That makes no sense.”

With a swift flick of his finger, Minho sends crushed ice skidding across the table toward Changbin. They hit and leave wet traces across his tshirt. “Don't call my tears senseless,” he pouts. ”they had their reasons.”

“And that is…?”

Minho sends more ice in Changbin’s direction until none is left, and then he shrugs in frustration. He is out of ammo. “How can I know?” he asks. “You made me cry, ask that to yourself.”

ch 4:

Innie, Changbin reads his name plate as Dr. Yang Jeongin, shrugs it off with an air of nonchalance, dismissing the topic entirely with a casual, "Already done with that," as though it holds no significance. But he is focused on something, something being Changbin himself.

“Who is this,” He says with an odd interest. ”your new victim? You bit another person to death?”

Oh stars. No. No, no, no, no. Not this again.

Changbin was thinking about kissing Minho, holding his hands, and smiling with him. Not this, no.

“Really!?” It’s Jisung who is screaming. “You really bite people? Is that really why you called hyung a marshmallow?”

“He is no longer a marshmallow!“ Minho defends.

“Ah hyung you brought him here as a prebiting caution then!“ Innie exclaims.

“Should have guessed Minho hyung is a descendant of a vampire clan, probably a prince with his looks!“ Jisung muses.

All three, at the same time, disregarding the surroundings, all ready to chirp and turn into a whirlwind of chaos.

ch5:

“Someone I knew of had these. Many of them, on his desk, on his shelves. One beautiful on his nightstand.” Minho talks in such a way that words go through him like a knife into a pomegranate.

A shared pain then, as Changbin recognizes as much. But still he needs to hear it from the other’s mouth. “He didn’t keep any of his promises, did he?” Your lover, he doesn’t say.

Minho turns to him, his back resting against the countertop, right where the previous tenants left a deep dent. He pulls the corner of his mouth to Changbin, a near smile, a bitter one. “To him, I wasn’t even worthy of promises, Changbin-ah.”

That enrages something within Changbin. The way Minho said it. The way he dared to call himself. “Asshole,” he mutters with all the hatred he can muster. “Did he say that to your face?”

Minho curls a hand around Changbin’s wrist, Changbin answers by lacing their fingers together, leaning closer to step in front of him. “He didn’t need to,” Minho wets his lips. “I knew it from the start, and I knew he was right. I was just a stubborn child who didn’t know what a no looked like,” His gaze shifts at their intertwined fingers. ”I had a lot to learn and doing so, a lot to unlearn.”

obviously they still a bit of editing and grammar check but i'm overall very happy how it turned out?

since most of my time was spent on the minbin fic, all i ever found time was for writing really short drabbles. some turned out cute, some turned out ehhh but regardless they were fun! i also get to explore pack dynamics for a skz omegaverse universe? i don't think i would write anything other than short thread fics or drabbles at this point but that's ok, i have my hands full with two ficathons already haha

drabbles under the cuts

minbin

tags: twitter thread, nsfw, explicit, omegaverse,  omega!changbin, omega!minho, lactation kink, pregnancy kink

omega chngbn comes from work. his day was rough, his coworkers are usually not assholes but today felt like they were. he is needy and craves for his pack’s attention and ready to be pampered, babied etc

to his misfortune what he discovers when he is back is that everyone is busy and not at home, except their other pack omega, mnho.

mnho who is on maternity leave, glances at him for a second and that’s all it needs for him to understand. he doesn’t need any words, doesn’t need chngbn to explain, doesn’t even need chngbn’s distressed smell to see something is wrong.

chngbn finds himself in mnho’s arms, the older scenting him patiently and throughly. leaving loving kisses on his pulse points, caressing the soft of his hair, “my beautiful binnie-ah,” he whispers. “let hyung take care of you, let me make it good for you.”

mnho takes his time to undress chngbn, commenting how lovely their binnie is, how happy he makes everyone, how perfect he is. mnho murmurs compliments after compliments, right next to chngbn’s ear, only for him to ear.

and he lets chngbn touch himself, he lets chngbn’s fingers linger on his own exposed body, letting them stay as much as he needs. bc chngbn loves skin to skin contact, mnho encourages him for more. he laces their fingers together and brings them to his breasts, his round tummy.

chngbn’s touch oh his tummt is soft, bc he is in awe, he is in love that mnho’s carrying their pack’s pups, imagines himself in his place one day. mnho is patient, “take your time chngbn-ah,” he murmurs cradling the younger’s cheeks with his other hand.

chngbn doesn’t rush, but his hand on the older’s breasts gets greedy. he gets greedy. “go on,” mnho breathes against his ear. “they are yours.”

it is a hesitant squeeze first, but chngbn grows braver. it is not his first time, but it feels nice. mnho’s breasts are soft under his palms, soft and reserved for him right now. the older’s sweet scent hugs him, and the more he adds pressure, the more mnho whimpers.

there comes a moment where mnho pushes him until chngbn’s back is against the mattress and he climbs on the top of him, his breast right above chngbn’s lips. “want a taste?” he asks, one eyebrow raises.

of course chngbn wants a taste, all of them wants a taste.

lips pressed against the perked nub, chngbn allows himself the sweet taste. all the while being very aware of his wer cunt, mnho’s wet cunt above him. he leans in more, the other hand traveling on the older’s body, chngbn sucks, sucks and sucks mnho.

he feels calmer, he feels delirious at the same time. but he feels loved the most. even more when he feels mnho’s own slick dripping on him, mnho smearing his own slick on chngbn’s cunt to push his first finger in.

a loud moan escapes chngbn’s mouth, a trail of milk drop licks mnho’s body. he chooses to answer the older with graze of his teeth. experimentally biting it.

mnho hisses and grinds against him, it’s difficult to do it with his round belly but the more he moves, the more slick drips on chngbn’s soft thighs. “a naughty bunny you are,” mnho scolds him, and adds the second finger.

but mnho holds chngbn very dearly in his heart, he chooses to kiss chngbn’s lips, tasting his own milk as he adds the third finger. he leans away and starts properly fingering him. in and out, until he chngbn is a whimpering mess.

three fingers inside, one finger rubbing chngbn’s clit, the younger is in bliss, watching mnho with lust, indulging himself with his touch. it is everything to him, having his hyung’s attention, listening his praises, chngbn forgets everything.

the thoughts clouding his mind, his insecurities ends with mnho taking him apart and putting him together in the way he needs. “you deserve to be loved chngbn-ah,” mnho tells him. “the prettiest omega ever,” he reminds him and fucks him with his three fingers in.

chngbn comes not long after, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted with a sweet moan, body trembling. it’s mnho’s turn then, following him and then the older is resting against chngbn.

mnho’s arm circle chngbn’s chest, he presents little kisses to his nexk and down to his pecs. “i love my binnie-ah,” he says. “perfect, always perfect for me, for us.” he says.

once chngbn gains his breath, he turns to kiss him. touches feather like on the older’s tummy, a crease between his brows, mnho reads him before he can even speak. “sssh, babies are fine and they know they are being loved.” then adds, “now we sleep, bc i want to sleep.”

chngbn, however, convinces him to move to his bed. mnho pouts, mnho juts his lips and protests but lets him.

on chngbn’s softest sheets and under his warmest blankets, legs tangled, breathes are one, calm, happy and sated they fall asleep.

(author forgot to mention what awaits chn at the home is that his defiled bed, his room heavy with mnho’s and chngbn’s scent, drops of milk staining his covers, sheets full of their slick spread around)

binsung

tags: fluff, magical realism, just cuteness really bc they are smol smol

The inkpot falls and spills its ink to the sky, painting it dark.

The little boy is on a mission. Away from his home, half of his legs covered in snow, dressed in his puffy coat and bundled up in a big, wool scarf like a Christmas present, he is in the middle of winter. Right at the corner shop, round the enormous pine tree is his destination. He just needs a few more steps —left and right, leaving shallow burrows on the whitest blanket that is snow, he pushes forward.

The park is quiet, the wind is not whistling anymore. The boy opens his arms to the sky and gets to work. His palms, facing the above, he picks the stars, one by one, he mutters, “Ssh, I’m not stealing you,” in the tone his mother carries in her loving hugs. He collects them in his rabbit backpack, patient and gentle, in awe and curious. The cold bites the tip of his fingers that is too busy catching the stars, but he does not falter. He is brave, he is determined, he is a hero.

“That’s not how it is done,” comes a voice from behind.

Changbin turns his head, then his torso and lastly his whole body in that order. Eyes thinned and anger sparkling like flashing lights, he wonders who is this foolish intruder that gets between him and the stars.

It is another boy, standing next to snow covered swings, looking at him with his big eyes. He is not bundled up like Changbin is, his coat is thin and he only wears one mitten. His hamster-like cheeks are dusted with pinks and nose is red. And he is grinning.

The intruder steps closer and parts his lips, “You have to use your scarf,” he says. “So that they can’t run away from you.” And goes on. “And you shouldn’t shout out that you are a hero, because then they will just sprout lies about you.”

He seems good at what he does, and sincere, so Changbin unties his scarf and leaves it in his hands. The boy puts the scarf above his head and starts running around the playground, rounds the seasaw and climbs up the slide —all the while singing to stars.

When he gets tired, chest heaving up and down, in and out, he stops next to the big oak, under its barren branches, resting against its cold trunk.

Changbin follows him, “How did it go? How did it go?” he asks, bearing no patience.

The boy looks at him with the biggest smile, eyes arching like two crescent moons, his voice low and mysterious like tales of his grandma’s, he steps closer, puts a finger in the middle of Changbin’s lips and whispers, “Look,” And he brings Changbin’s hand to his pockets.

Changbin’s hand wiggles inside, not knowing what to expect at all. Then he feels something sharp, something pointed but very, very fragile. His mouth becomes “o” and he nearly shouts. “Show me!” He cries.

The boy giggles, body trembling like a leaf, but it is nice. Nicer when he opens his palms up and there he sees, hundreds of little indigo stars, cut out from the indigo sky.

changjin

tags: omega!changbin, alpha!huynjin, nesting, fluff

“What about this one?”

Hyunjin is towering beside him, holding a hoard of clothes straight out of their laundry basket — sweaters, trousers, t shirts, pajamas —anything soft and used enough for Changbin’s liking to put into his precious nest.

The omega takes the black pajama bottoms off Hyunjin’s hands and brings it closer to his nose to smell. A strong, musky scent that is tinged with black coffee and licorice. It’s undoubtedly worn and loved well by Chan. The next is the texture test. He lets the pajamas fall over his face to determine whether it is soft enough to touch his skin. And lastly, the color. It is a boring black one, nothing like the colors his nest is adorned with.

Changbin frowns. He forgot to ask Chan to wear more colorful pieces this week, but it is also not his fault that his heat is hitting earlier than expected. Yet Hyunjin, leaving the clothes on the armchair that is next to them, bends down behind him to envelop Changbin into a big, secure hug.

“We have Chan hyung’s sweater if anything,” he says with a hopeful tone but doesn’t really let the omega go, no. Tightens his hold, and starts to rock Changbin right to the left while kissing his soft neck. His nose, so close to Changbin’s scent gland, playfully leaving licks after licks, he feels the omega relaxing in his embrace.

They haven’t yet decided on who will be with Changbin during his heat. For some, it comes instinctively, like Minho who never has a designated heat partner, just moans a name and that means that person is claimed for the rest of his heat. For Jisung’s heats, the youngest omega keeps a list. Jeongin’s ruts are mostly spent with two additional partners but he has no second gender preference. Seungmin’s ruts are different, often private and in the confines of Minho’s room. Chan keeps his ruts to himself until someone whacks some sense to him, then every pack member starts doing rounds. Felix, as their sole beta, includes himself for most of their time, even starting impromptu “get together” sessions to get a share of his own fun time.

Changbin is not like Minho, neither he has a list like Jisung, or always looking for two more members in his bed as Jeongin does. In truth, he is much more close to Seungmin’s mindset. If anything, he would rather spend his heats only and only one member, which happens to be helping his nest with him right now, Hyunjin.

But Hyunjin, he is different.

Hyunjin doesn’t spend his ruts with any omegas, it is either the alphas or Felix and everyone else is kept out. Right before his rut, around the time his scent gets intense, he leaves them for good and doesn’t go near any of them ever.

And in return, he never asks to be included in heats, always in a distance, always living in his thoughts and paints, he only lets himself a share when it is omegas who approaches him first.

That hurts him, gnawing the innocent heart of his, Changbin knows and Changbin understands. It is not a spoken thing, not until the alpha is comfortable with it, but it is his deserve to be included, his deserve to be loved in the way he appreciated.

But it is not all of it, no. Not even near the truth, if anything, for Changbin, it is only the surface of what he wants to be for him. Because there is this thing, that fills his heart to the brim with fondness when he sees him, when he calls his name to bloom a smile in his cheeks, to have the twinkling stars his eyes, to hear his giggles like lullabies to his heart, Changbin loves him. He loves every member, but it is different when it comes to Hyunjin.

So he turns his head and asks, “Did you bring any more of yours?” and then, shier than before but not less determined than ever, he laces a hand that is around his torso to voice, “or do you want to spend my heat with me?”

That gets him a smile, a full one, brightens Hyunjin’s face, arches his eyes. The alpha buries his face into Changbin’s neck, hugs him really really close and kisses him there, little pecks to his warm skin, Hyunjin, without even thinking, nods in a heartbeat.

minchan

tags: sky descendant!chan, sea descendant!minho, first kisses

Cursed by the goddess of love, the sky and the sea are forbidden to touch.

The horizons favor them and the sun cannot bear the weeping sky. Everyday, the sun cocoons them in warmth, in the sweetest rays to keep them away from the goddess’s wrath. They always get caught, clouds shroud the sky, and the sky does cry, little drops to the ground, his heart always reaching for the sea, his love.

They yearn, they long for each other.

The goddess does not falter. The goddess is strict, for she is scared from what their love would take away —draining the seas the mortals live, emptying the sky the mortals seek refuge.

First the sky brings a child, then the sea makes one out of spite. The children grow, listening to the tales from the sun, until one day the wind carries their voices to each one by one.

“I’m Chan,” says the son of the sky, his smile blooming summers.

The son of the sea is quieter. Not judgmental, but playful, needs more to unfurl like a flower. So Chan sings, the winds reaching the son of the sea, the sea people parroting every line, every word, all reserved only and only for the son of the sea.

One day, when he is a little less stubborn, one day, when his heart melts until all left is the warm affection in the midst of the cold, cruel waters, the son of the sea speaks to the winds. “I’m Minho.”

It is not Chan who finds the other first, but Minho. Peeking his head above the bluest sky, he watches where the two deities touch, where they kiss, how the sun commits a sin. He ponders about their touches, their kisses, their love. So he looks far and far away, until he catches Chan. “Coward!” he shouts. “Coward, you didn’t kiss me!”

And he returns to the deepest depths of the sea, away from Chan’s searching eyes. He is shy, his cheeks so pink, he discovers he has a heart and it is beating.

He asks about the mortals and the sun answers him by bringing him one. Minho thinks about falling in love. With this human I can do it, he decides. But his heart shuts itself down. Any other human, his heart doesn’t open up.

“You are my heart,” he says. “Listen to me!” he demands, yet his heart remains dormant like a sea that is at its calmest, tides sleeping like big, flat blankets.

“And you are my heart,” another voice answers. Uninvited, but amused, the voice comes with raining waters, drop after a drop, the winds help until any soul is soaked.

The sea starts moving, the waves slap the shorelines like his heart beating against its confines. Minho does not look at Chan, he is busy getting angry at his heart.

“I will kiss you as much as you want,” Chan declares, and holds Minho’s heart in his palms.

“I will love you as much as you let me,” Chan remarks, and holds Minho’s gaze with his eyes.

The waves are big now, bigger than anything a mere mortal can ever see in his life, so strong that the ship do not stand a chance, so close to the sky, but they only calm down when the waters of the sea touches the territory of the sky, when Minho reaches out and kisses Chan.

minchan

tags: kittens, fluff

channie (in detention) 🖤:
babe
look what i’ve found:
[picsoflilkittiesinabox.jpg]
remember the orange tabby?
the one that stole sung’s apple pie?
she made babies

An hour later, Minho invites himself to Chan's studio, walking around arms full of three little fur balls. Minho’s gaze finally settles on him —eyes all big, lips pouting— and Chan’s knows he stands no chance against him when his boyfriend parts his lips to say, “But don’t you think our house is too big for just the two of us, Channie?”

And that’s how Chan and Minho find themselves pushing their trolley between the aisles of the pet shop near their flat, trying to pick the perfect of everything.

“We need this,” Minho points out a mouse toy. It’s small, made with various fabrics sewn together. Cute, he agrees when he nods and Minho grabs a handful of them, — Chan counts, three, four and five— passing them into their trolley with a mischievous grin, then a kiss is placed on Chan’s cheeks.

“Green or the biscuit one?” In front of them are the cushions, they have been here for the last twenty minutes. Thers are many to choose from but some of them are not to Minho’s liking — something about patterns not looking cute or ugly as fuck— and the others are not soft enough. Now Minho is holding two circular ones, eyes focused like he is on a hunt. That is until Chan reaches out to get both the green and the biscuit one for the kitties. This earns him another kiss, except this time it is on his lips.

Minho stops them in front of an aisle full of collars. Chan sighs, but lovingly. Minho smiles, excitedly. Picking up the collars proves to be the most difficult task. The options are endless but watching his boyfriend so invested that he keeps blinking, pouting and smiling from time to time is priceless. Chan lets him take his time, giggles as a fond smile grows in his face easily.

“What is so funny, old man?” Minho is giving him an irritated look but that’s all cover, Chan can see the tips of his ear turning red.

So he decides to be a menace, because he loves his boyfriend that much. “Nothing, just that you are cute,”

Minho hits him with the biscuit cushion and he gets three matching collars in the trolley. Then three others. He seizes Chan and up, a mischievous grin appears through when his lips quirk up, and he grabs another three.

Chan doesn’t say anything, not really. He goes behind him to hug Minho, and there, his hand magically produces another three collars to be purchased.

“Admit it hyung, you are as excited as I am to raise children with me,” Minho says when they are getting food for the kitties. Chan’s fingers on wet food can stills, then shiver. Just for a second. But enough for the feline-eyes that is his boyfriend’s. Because then Minho’s leaning to his side, right against his ear, just to whisper, “Hmm? Let’s try it tonight hyung? What do you say?”