#wc 900

[nelithic]

　𝐚𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚 ,　𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 　/　drabble ₊

"if imitation is required, then so be it. nil's safety is all that concerns me."

we would never be human, my brother and i. we could never hope to pass. even as i said these words to the divine dragon, i recognized that it was concession only. we needed somewhere to stay, a place to rest our weary forms, and regain our strength to continue on. i would make any placations and reassurances necessary to ensure this, so long as we needed it, and leave them behind when it was no longer of use. such simple falsehoods were common, a quotidian tool to dull the fangs of the prowling and jealous until another day. they would still come, of course. just as we would still depart.

　　　　——— ⟢　

we would never come close to human, my twin and i. their faces made this clear. the divine dragon was hopeful and naive, and believed baselessly in our ability to make ourselves at home because, they assured us, they had been able to do the same.

on many occasions, i said to them: "that success is owed in part to your nature as a divine dragon. you underestimate the strength of a systematic distrust."

always, they would reply that my ' systematic distrust ' could only be dismantled by time and visibility, that given enough show of good intent, the others would have no choice but to accept us. i expressed that nil and i were not here to give shows of our intent, nor was it vital to us to earn the humans' trust. we had no interest in becoming the ' good ' fell dragons for others to praise.

always, they frowned. and i was unable to tell if my words had disappointed or saddened them.

　　　　——— ⟢　

"so, why the lance?"

a curious voice broke through the haze of sweat, exertion, and the punishing summer heat. i looked down to my bruised hands, to chastened palms rough and raw from the abrasion of wood, and planted the training weapon point-down in the ground between us to rest. it was as much an acknowledgement of their question as it was a wordless statement to come no closer, and in this single gesture simultaneously provided answer.

"i thought you said you wouldn't fit in."

"i have not."

and this was not untrue. seasons had passed, and nil and i had still not found a more remote, more willing sanctuary. and the faces had not changed. still we undertook tasks together and together only, at times with the divine one for company and otherwise a solemn and happy pair. for though there were those in the army who may stomach us one or the other, both at a time set them ill at ease. i did not fault them, for it did likewise for me. and i would not let nil alone, whose blood was too gentle still to wield steel against soft humanity should they strike first.

"my brother has made some progress with his axe. with a spear, i possess another means with which to protect him."

"ah," the divine one said, as though this was expected, though there appeared to me a distinct hope that there was more to be revealed. i sensed a certain expectation — that it had been a natural decision to complement the preferences of those around me: my brother's hatchets; the divine dragon's sword.

but i would disappoint. the consideration had never occurred to me; only that, of the options available, the spear proved most versatile. to slash, to pierce, to strike bluntly, close or at distance; to be thrown, and lighter weight than an axe.

and above all, to keep the enemy at bay, and nil behind me.

i turned the human weapon on the divine one now to demonstrate this. their startled blue eyes shone wide beneath the sun. "facing your sword will assist me in improving quickly. three seconds and i will attack."

　　　　——— ⟢　

we could never have been human, my other half and i. after all, the humans had all taken their leave, what few remained of them, splintered and swept away like shards of glass.

and now it was quieter than it had ever been — in gradlon or amid the army camps.

regardless of what we intended, we had become the ' good ' fell dragons in the end. some of their faces had eventually changed because of this; others had not. i wondered whether seeing this had satisfied the divine one, had made them believe we had indeed managed to fit in with time and visibility; i had never had the chance to ask. regarding the fresh grave now, the spotless stone, the clean engraving, i felt that so long as this may have perhaps been true, my own intentions ceased to matter. and the praise and judgment of others ceased to matter.

my hands were once again bruised, raw from battle though the old callouses had long faded, and i tried to summon the memory of them again through vision too clear to be appropriate. i willed my eyes to weep, and it did not come. i gave that to nil instead, asked him to weep for both of us.

the spear drove point-down in the grass between the two of us once more, beside the pedestal's simple tomb, as though the iron sought the one who rested beneath it like a compass needle.

i could not reach. my hands could not reach. my tears could not reach.

yet with this lance, i may . . .

. . .

　 【　nel has mastered halberdier　】

　

　┃┃┃　

▀▀ 　BOTANICAL HEADCANONS　₊　|　abatina : is there anything in life your muse has changed their mind about over time ( due to becoming more educated on the topic , certain experiences , etc .) , or that they would change their mind about under certain circumstances ?　|　asked by @heriteur

[i-am-church-the-cat]

ferrucci shut the fuck up challenge

"Fucking Ferrucci."

Kyle drops his bag on the floor and follows it's descent down onto the bed, only to be prodded out of it by Colton. He grumbles but allows himself to be herded towards the tiny bathroom.

"Fucking Ferrucci," Colton agrees, handing him a change of clothes before shutting the door on him. Kyle can hear everything the man does on the other side of the door and he allows the flimsy material to prop him up as he listens. Kyle hears him clatter around the kitchen to make their typical pre-race dinner of Aldi's chicken alfredo. The familiar sounds lull his eyelids to droop back down.

The banging on the door has him jolting back into action, yelling something unintelligible back at his teammate. Colton's unsympathetic laughter is the last thing Kyle hears before he slips under the spray.

He has a few texts waiting for him when he gets out of the bathroom, including one a few hours ago from Logan. It's nearly 3AM in Zandvoort but the time stamp is from right after Kyle got out of the car. He texts him and his mom back before shutting his phone off again.

The motorhome is as tiny as always and Kyle ends up pressed up against Colton's side, peering over his shoulder to watch him cook. The younger man's elbow digs into Kyle's stomach every time he stirs the heating pasta, but Kyle remains where he is until Colton tries to swat at his head with the spatula. Then he's laughing and moving back towards the couch.

There was no need for the pull out couch over summer break, obviously, but Colton still hasn't pulled it out since races started again. Kyle tries not to think about the arm around his waist and the head tucked into his shoulder that's the reason for that because then he'll want to talk about it and Colton has been very clear about Not Talking About It. So he sinks back into the couch and watches Colton silently, enjoying the rare moments during the race weekend when they're left alone.

The quiet stretches until, "I can feel you watching me."

Kyle feels the grin stretch across his face and he's sure Colton knows it's there even if his hasn't turned around. "I'm not trying to hide it."

Colton fills two bowls and turns towards him. Kyle grins harder seeing the tinge of pink on his face and Colton frowns deeper in response. "Just eat your dinner," he tells him, shoving a bowl into his hands before sitting down next to him. They're pressed from shoulder to hip so Kyle isn't worried about him actually being upset.

"Thanks," Kyle hums and digs in, ravenous now that he's been given permission to think about his hunger. They're quiet again except for the sound of their chewing and the movement of people outside the RV. Colton's motorhome feels so private sometimes that Kyle forgets that they're not that cutoff from the outside world. Definitely not enough to do anything more than sleep in the same bed, even if Kyle's thought's on the subject have tripled in these last few weeks.

"So," Colton starts, breaking Kyle from his revery. "Ferrucci. Think you can take him out for me tomorrow?"

Kyle snorts and sinks deeper into the couch - and even more into Colton. "Sure. You know the only thing I like more than you finishing first is you finishing second behind me."

It's supposed to be a joke, it is a joke, but it comes out a little more suggestive than he means it to. Colton looks down at him and suddenly his smile feels less genuine. He goes to look away, laugh it off, but Colton is already speaking.

"Alright," Colton hums. "You win tomorrow. I'll finish second."

"Yeah?" Kyle whispers, somewhere between shock and awe.

"Only seems fair." Colton's smile ticks up on one side. "You did it for me."

"Sixth and tenth are a little different than first and second," Kyle points out, ignoring how short-of-breath he sounds.

"You can do it," Colton says confidently. It sounds less like encouragment and more like a demand. Before Kyle can think of what to say, the weight against his side is gone. Colton grabs their bowls and leaves Kyle floundering in his wake.

—

"Ferrucci needs to learn to shut his fucking mouth."

Kyle laughs as he hits the bed, the sound muffled when Colton lands on top of him and covers Kyle's mouth with his own. He tastes like champagne and Kyle wants to suck it off his tongue. And every other place Kyle had drenched on the podium today.

Of course, Ferrucci had shit to say about how Kyle and Colton fought their way to the front and then blocked him out of the top three. The insinuation that he and Colton were fucking didn't hit as hard now that it was true, though maybe more dangerous. Kyle just had to trust that no one gave a fuck what Ferruci had to say. He certainly didn't.

"You didn't come in second," Kyle huffs out when Colton finally gives him time to breathe. He casts a glance to the third and first place trophies sitting on the table.

"Oh, I'm about to," Colton assures, tearing at the front of Kyle's racesuit. He moves to help him even as he reminds Colton that their team is expecting them in an hour. His eyes gleam. "We'll just have to be quick then."

It is quick. Embarassingly so. But, Kyle supposes as he interlocks his fingers with Colton's over his dick. That's what it takes to come first.

[bonefall]

bumble beating alex after alex beat leafpool feels like the greatest vindication of all time

Alex DeWitt is a worthy opponent, there is honor in Leafpool's loss to such a venerable foe. From that fight, we walk with pride.

But BUMBLE must go to the top, we're gonna do this lads. How many other times have you seen a horrible murder of an innocent woman FRAMED LIKE IT WAS INEVITABLE BECAUSE SHE WAS FAT?? An extra kill for a 'redeemable' serial abuser because ONE unprovoked slaughter of a different innocent woman wouldn't have been "bad" enough?

Or hell... would that be TOO reasonable? We can't have Gray Wing be wrong and need to learn something; he's gotta be right that this contrived, sounds-like-it-was-made-up-on-the-spot account from Clear Sky is the truth and he only mercilessly slaughtered 1 girl for no reason. Because he was scared.

"Everyone clap at my sweet brother. Beating the shit out of women with less power than him is his coping mechanism for being so sad."

But. Anyway. Hold no anger in your heart for Leafpool's loss. Alex is taking fancy pictures of her with her big ass journalist camera. Leafpool never met a girlie she didn't like. Friends <3

[billystorm]

very cool this pride month to see the coldest take on wctwit that somehow chinese wc fans are to blame for wc not having LGBT+ characters.

anyway please support poc lgbt creators this month esp in this fandom. godbless

[sleepyhoon]

they would have to surgically remove me from plug!heeseung js

like don’t even play �� a man that’s smokes and and gives me meat?? baby that is a bbq grill and i’m ready to fire it up 😭😭

[darkisucksanditwrites]

close

Cyno’s palm cups his cheek suddenly and he stirs looking up at the General who leans over his desk, peering down at him curiously.

“What’s wrong.” He asks when Cyno doesn’t remove his hand. Normally Alhaitham would swat it away since he’s not very partial to others touching him without his consent or touching him at all.

If it was anyone other than Cyno of course.

Somewhere along, among the many meetings, debates, document reviews, lunches, late coffees, drinks and card games and bad jokes he realized that he let Cyno in, so close, like no other person before.

The testament to that is the way Cyno can invade Haitham’s personal space like this without him perceiving his presence as something threatening but instead as a part of their natural state of being.

And even the touch, despite being gentle could turn lethal any moment. That hand cupping his cheek could slide down his throat and squeeze depriving him of breath if Cyno wished to, but it does not alarm him or causes discomfort for being touched like this.

If anything, it only startled him because Cyno’s hand is warm.

“You have an eyelash here.” He says finally, swiping his thumb over the high bone of his cheek.

“Ah.” Haitham says and closes his eyes, another display of trust and vulnerability, which surprises even him, given away so easily as if it means nothing.

“Can I?” Cyno asks and Haitham nods.

There’s another gentle brush, rough thumb tracing thin skin under his eye, the pad grazing the tips of his eyelashes.

Then he stops and just holds Haitham’s face in his hand.

“Is that all?” Haitham asks with a huff, eyes still closed as he arches an eyebrow.

The General shifts, moving closer, closer still. Their knees bump against each other and then Haitham feels warm breath on his face.

“No.” Cyno says against his lips. “It’s not.”

[reapkusho]

usually people struggle with meeting the word count... but i struggle staying IN the word count. I NEED TO MAKE A POINT WHY AM I BEING SILENCED??

[kflixnet]

Check out our member Mari's drabble!

Lady Love ! — Sim Jaeyun

Genre: arranged marriage, strangers to lovers, drabble, royal au, fluff?

wc: 985

warnings: petnames (sweetheart), one kiss

pairing: prince!jake x princess!reader

Synopsis: you hated the fact you were being sent off to get married. You don’t even know your future husband. You thought badly of him..only to find out the quite opposite

Masterlist

You sighed, staring out the window of the carriage.. you didn’t want to meet your so called future husband. It’s stupid on how your parents chose your spouse for you.. and their reasoning being “Oh! We must keep this tradition alive!” Well you don’t like this tradition. Seriously, how does your own mother think that when she got with your father the same way? You look over to see a castle from a distance. The carriage slowly came to a stop. You wanted to just disappear. You don’t know whether you are nervous or annoyed, probably maybe even both. You try to shake off the feeling. You hear the door opening, facing the direction.. your bodyguard comes in sight announcing..

“We have arrived Princess..Yn..” He says moving to the side to let you get through while holding his hand out. You take his hand carefully stepping out of your carriage. You admire the Greek styled castle.. that’s until you hear your mother’s voice.

“Yn! You’ve arrived my sweetheart..I thought you got lost on your way here!” She said with worry.. you shake your head.. slightly embarrassed.

“No..sorry mother for taking a little longer..” you say hoping to ease her a bit. Your mother sighs in relief before your father speaks up.

“Come on now.. we’ve come here for one reason and we don’t want to keep him waiting..” you wanted to roll your eyes. Since when did you agree to this!?! Never. You don’t get why you don’t choose on your own.

“Yes..father..” you say with a polite voice.. oh how you wanted to shout at his face.. you all approach the castle’s door.. slowly opening.. it reveals a long hallway full of butlers and maids ready to take any command. They all stare at you making you a little nervous. Not like you were nervous a whole lot.

“Your highness.. the family is waiting for you in the meeting room..” one maid said bowing. “Follow me..” she added.. you follow her, your nerves going up each second as you get closer. You wonder how he looks, how he acts, what would he think of you? Questions were quickly filling up your mind to the point you didn’t realize you'd arrived at the door..

“Yn.? Yn? Sweetie?” You heard your name ring called. You slightly shake a bit before facing your mother.. “Y-yes..?” You asked..fidgeting with your fingers.. “Are you alright??” she looks at your concern. “Huh..yeah I’m fine..” totally fine.. NO! You were a mess!! Of course you weren’t fine. “Oh alright, are you ready?..” What?!?! No!?! If you could, you'd definitely jump off a bridge. “I guess..” nope.

With that you walk into the room seeing the old couple sitting down discussing something until they notice your presence. Stopping, they smile at you softly. They don’t seem that bad..but that doesn’t mean the same as for their son.

“You must be yn..” the old man asked. You nodded your head.. “Yes, your highness, that would be me.” You said politely, bowing. “No need to be formal..as you’ll be marrying my son..” you put on a fake smile.. hoping it was somewhat believable. You take a seat..somewhat calmer than before. You sit in your seat as your parents talk with his parents. You can’t believe these two will be your in-laws. You sigh with boredom. Your gaze lands in the stained glass window.. the sunlight leaving a beautiful color on the table. That’s when you hear a deep voice.

“Sorry for being late mother and father..” it’s him.. you don’t want to turn around but can’t help it. “Oh my son!” His dad says cheerfully getting up and walking towards him. You slowly turn around and see him. You’re beyond shocked he was..very.. handsome.. very much your type. He looks like a golden retriever of some sort.. his presence felt so..bubbly. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. Air caught in your throat. His black hair is nicely styled, brown eyes with a sparkle, and oh, that sweet smile of his.. but looks can’t say all. The prince.. greets his parents before greeting yours. Your eyes followed his every movement. He eventually turned his direction towards you. You quickly get up too much for your liking, and bow..

“It’s nice to meet you..?” The prince starts off.. “Yn…” you say softly. Your heart skips a beat. “Yn..lovely name..” He takes your hand and kisses it.. “Name’s Jaeyun.. but just call me Jake, sweetheart..” Sweetheart oh you could definitely faint on the spot.

“How about you two get to know a little more about each other..” his mother suggested.. “Of course mother.. here come with me..” he says before taking your wrist in his hand. He takes you over to the backyard revealing a huge field..

“So yn.. I’ll be marrying you..” Right.. “yeah..” you said awkwardly.. “Not bad..I wasn’t expecting someone like you.. more quiet than most..and definitely very very beautiful..” oh gosh he just called you beautiful. You can feel your face getting warm, maybe it’s just the weather. “Thank you..” Jake nodded his head.. “I didn’t agree to this.. parents choice.. but now that I think about it I don’t mind at all now..” Jake adds leaving you stunned so he felt the same way.. “Huh..me too.” You say with wide eyes looking at him.. Jake could just kiss you right now, but he had some self control in him. “Feelings are mutual..so you don’t mind being my wife?” Oh now he was teasing you. “What? I never said anything..”

“I know but the way your body language is speaking right now says the opposite, but don’t worry sweetheart.. I don’t mind you being my wife.” Jake says before kissing you on the lips and walking away leaving you flustered. Oh boy were you so happy.

Author’s Note: I did it yay! Umm I thought of this out of nowhere and just liked the idea so here it is .. this was what I was straying to finish.

© ynsvnte copyright 2024

[darkisucksanditwrites]

friend

Cyno almost stumbled when Alhaitham grabbed his arm when they were passing each other in the corridors of the Akademiya late in the evening.

“Why are you avoiding me.”

Cyno blinked up at him when he asked his non question. The light from the lamps caught in his eyes and not for the first time Alhaitham marveled at how big they were. One could almost drown in them.

After a pause Cyno shook Alhaitham’s arm off of him.

“Who says I am avoiding you, Scribe?”

“Me.” Alhaitham grabbed Cyno’s arms again and dragged him into a more secluded corner. There were no people around but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Cyno once again shook him off.

“Well I am not. I am busy and you’re not the Acting Grand Sage anymore so it’s logical that we don’t cross paths that often anymore.”

Alhaitham frowned but did not grab at Cyno for the third time.

“No true. There were many occasions for us to meet recently regardless of my demotion.”

“Like I said. Busy.” Cyno crossed his arms protectively over his chest, tipped his head back and glared at Alhaitham with the intensity of a sun.

“Why are you upset?” Alhaitham cocked his head to the side honestly confused. “As far as I am concerned, I did not do anything to make you angry or disrespected you in any way recently. So why are you avoiding me?”

“Archons why do you care?” Cyno scoffed.

Alhaitham frowned.

“I simply want to know the reason for it that’s all.”

“What? Are you upset I am ignoring you or something?”

“Yes.”

Cyno did a double take.

“What?”

“Yes, I am upset. I don’t like when people I don’t want to are ignoring me.”

Cyno looked taken a back.

“What?” He repeated. “You?”

“I do have feelings Cyno.” Alhaitham sighed. “If you did not want to continue our friendship you should have said so first. It’s only polite.”

“Friendship?”

“Was it not?”

“I-what?”

“You’re repeating that question as if you’re trying to find the meaning of life.” Alhaitham snarked. “Is this so strange that I considered you a friend?”

“Yes?!” Cyno bristled.

“Are you asking me now or stating a fact?”

“Archons shut up. You don’t do friends. Hell, you don’t even like your roommate and you’re supposed to be friends.”

“Were.” Alhaitham corrected. Cyno frowned.

“So what? I am his substitute now as your token friend?”

Alhaitham was getting irritated.

“Cyno. Why are you so difficult. You could have just answered my question. Just say ‘I don’t like you’ and let’s move on, shall we?”

A bit of venom slipped into the last sentence. Alhaitham wasn’t a sensitive person but he did grow to enjoy Cyno’s company and his personality and also enjoyed working with him when he was the Acting Grand Sage for the Sumeru Akademiya but if he miscalculated…well then it won’t happen again. He just wanted a clear answer.

Cyno stared at him his look flat.

“Cyno?”

Alhaitham did not expect for the General Mahamatra to grab him by the lapels of his cape and drag him down to his level and grace him with a very, very hard and inelegant kiss.

And was that a zap of electro he felt for a moment?

Then Cyno was pulling away.

“Listen Scribe because I will not repeat myself.” He said going for stern but his voice sounded shaky. “I. Do not. Want to be. Your friend. Got it?”

Alhaitham stared at the shorter man, lips pulled into a thin line before he rubbed them together, trying to chase the taste of Cyno on them.

He licked them for one good measure, simulating a nervous tick and suppressing a smirk when the General Mahamatra actually blushed.

“Dully noted.” He said after a moment. Cyno let him go but Alhaitham grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer.

“Is this why you were avoiding me? Because you did not want to be friends?”

“…Yes.”

Satisfied that he got his answer, Alhaitham released his wrists.

“Very well. We don’t have to be friends together if you prefer it that way.”

Cyno gaped at him.

And then he laughed.

“I’ll think about it.”

fic on AO3

[kflixnet]

Check out our member Star's drabble!

only you | y.j.i

-> the first i love you m.list

pairing... bf!jeongin x gn!reader tags... fluff, established relationship, soft pda, skz teasing their maknae 😖

jeongin doesn’t like affection. except when it comes from you, and only you.

wc... 933 words a/n... inspired by this request! this took much longer to write than i would've liked hahaha,, but here it is! it's a bit different that the others but i really did enjoy making it so i hope you all enjoy <3 let me know what you think!!!

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“This can't actually be my mission, it's impossible!” Jisung exclaimed in disbelief. He showed the camera his paper which read ‘Hug I.N for 5 seconds.’

Everyone knew that the youngest of the group valued his personal space, which posed a huge challenge for Jisung. It didn’t help that Jisung was terribly obvious about his mission, making his target even harder to catch. He spent the whole day chasing Jeongin around the venue of their shoot trying to wrap his arms around the boy. But, it was all to no avail, and he had failed his mission—which surprised no one.

Although the shoot was finished and the missions were over, Jisung was still trying to succeed, even getting the other members to help him.

“Yah, get away from me!” Jeongin laughed as he moved to shield himself behind the black couch by the dressing room's wall, crouching down in an attempt to protect himself. “Why are you all chasing me? I've done nothing wrong!”

“You know, all you’ve done is corner yourself. Now Jisung is guaranteed to get you.” Seungmin remarked unhelpfully from the corner of the room, where he watched the whole scene with an amused smile on his face.

Jeongin’s jaw dropped as Jisung moved forward to grab him, but the younger boy quickly escaped. However, Jisung managed to capture his arm, keeping him from leaving successfully.

“I got you, Innie-ah! Now you have to accept my hug!” Jisung taunted in a singsong voice, as Jeongin wriggled his arm.

“I don't want your hugs. I don’t want your affection, shoo! Leave me and my personal space alone,” he cried, trying to pull away from his captor.

Minho scoffed at the youngest as he continued to struggle in Jisung's grasp. “Don't lie, you loooove affection. We see you with Y/n all the time, you stick to her like a puppy to its mother!”

As if on cue, the door to the dressing room creaked open, drawing the eight boys’ attention to the person walking through.

“Y/n!” Jeongin came running to you, finally breaking free from Jisung's hold. He hid behind your back, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “Save me, please. They’re trying to attack me, or something.”

Taken aback, you laughed as you watched Minho point at Jeongin and shout, “See, you just proved my point!”

Jeongin tucked his head into your neck, shielding himself from his older members’ teases. You greeted the other members with a shy smile, dragging yourself and your koala of a boyfriend to sit on the couch.

“What did you guys do to him?” After a failed attempt to pry Jeongin off of your body, you gave up and leaned back on the couch as the other boys continued to tease him.

“We didn’t do anything! He won’t let us do anything.” Jisung crossed his arms and playfully pouted.

“Alright, alright,” Chan lightly tugged Jisung towards the door. “Let's let the love birds have some alone time.”

Jeongin scrunched his nose at the title, making some of the guys snicker.

“We'll be back in ten minutes, don't do anything dumb!” With that, the seven boys left you and Jeongin alone to lounge on the dressing room couch.

Though he was still sprawled atop your body, Jeongin seemed to relax at the absence of his members and melt further in your arms, making you smile at the boy.

“So, what was all that about?” You tangled your fingers in Jeongin’s curls, twirling the soft strands.

“Jisung had a dumb mission for our video and they all ganged up on me.” He looked up at you with a pout situated on his face. “They’re bullies, I’m telling you.”

Jeongin buried his face in your neck, rubbing his face against the soft fabric of your turtleneck. You gently massaged the base of his nape, humming as you urged him to continue his story.

“I was running away from them all day, mostly to make Jisung fail his mission,” he let out a chuckle. “But I also didn't feel up for any of their affection. I don't like when people get all up in my personal space.”

“What? But you love when I'm all affectionate with you,” you teased, poking at your boyfriend's cheek.

“Yeah, I’m only like that with you! You make me feel giddy and happy and sweet when I’m around you.” Jeongin mumbled into your shirt. “But that's probably because I love you.”

Your eyes widened at his confession and you nervously let out a breathy laugh. “What did you just say?”

“I love you?” Jeongin tilted his head up at you, confusion clouding his eyes. “Have I not told you that before?”

“No, no you have not,” you laughed softly as you gently moved him off your chest and guided his head so that you were eye-to-eye. “You really mean it?”

Jeongin flashed a gentle smile, showing off his adorable dimples, and brought his hand to the side of your face. His thumb brushed the apple of your cheek as he replied, “Of course I mean it. I love you, and only you”

You placed your hand over his and guided it back to place it on your neck. You pulled him into a hug, your arms tightened around his middle and you whispered into his ear “I love you, too, Innie.”

Behind the door, you could vaguely hear Jisung whining about failing his mission, but you paid him no mind. You were already set on soaking up the rest of your ten minutes of peace with your one and only sweet, cuddly, and affectionate boyfriend in your arms.

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taglist: @kflixnet @jinnixxn @elllisaaa @captainchrisstan @laylasbunbunny @starsandrqindrops @fiqire

comments, reblogs, and feedback are appreciated! © like-a-diamondinthesky 2023

[darkisucksanditwrites]

visit

There weren’t many things that Alhaitham would genuinely worry about.

On the fingers of one hand Cyno could list them; his position as the Grand Scribe, his precious books, his morning coffee (he was particularly fussy about it) and with some shy disbelief, Cyno had to admit that he, himself made the list.

So to see Haitham fuss about his appearance for once in his life was very interesting to say the least.

“Don’t you think you’re overdoing it a bit?” Cyno commented from where he was leaning against a wall of Haitham’s bedroom, arms crossed and head tilted curiously watching the other man fret uncharacteristically with the choice of his outer tunic.

He had two options: light gray and dark green and he couldn’t decide which one to match with his black short he had on for today.

Cyno thought it didn’t really matter; to him nor to the person they were going to visit anyway.

“Not at all.” Alhaitham said, putting on the tunic – the deep green one, and then picking up a comb from the dresser.

Cyno rolled his eyes and pulled from the wall, walking up to him. He himself was dressed down to simple loose pants and a shirt that barely reached his waist. Perfectly normal and casual outfit for a casual dinner visit.

Yet, Alhaitham insisted on dressing up for the occasion.

“You know he won’t notice right?”

Haitham ignored him in favor of styling his hair.

Cyno sighed.

“You’ve met him already.” He leaned over the dresser, his back to the mirror so he could look up at Haitham. “I don’t see why you think it’s such a big deal.”

Haitham lowered the hand which held the comb and looked at Cyno. His hair was now neatly pushed back, revealing more of his forehead and both of his eyes.

Cyno swallowed. He looked good. But he didn’t need to know that. Hell, he probably knew that already anyway.

Haitham frowned suddenly.

“Why do you assume I won’t take a visit to your only living parent seriously?”

“I didn’t say not take seriously. I just don’t know why you should stress over it so much.”

“I’m not stressed over it.” Haitham answered a bit too quickly and Cyno hummed knowingly. They were silent for a moment, Cyno observing Haitham further primping in front of the mirror and part of him wanted to feel a little jealous he rarely did that for their outings but then most of their ‘dates’ were very casual and mostly at home anyway, just how both of them liked.

“What about your grandmother?”

Haitham paused and looked at Cyno, curious about the random question.

“What about her?”

“You said that if she were here, she would love me no matter what, because you do.” He paused for a moment fighting against the embarrassment and the warmth in his face. “So why do you think Professor will be different?”

Haitham put the bottle of cologne back on the dresser and stepped closer to Cyno, crowding him a bit in his space.

He put one warm palm on Cyno’s cheek and tipped his face up so he had to look him in the eyes.

“Ah that’s because I am not as easy to love as you are.”

Cyno’s breath caught in his throat and his blush finally exploded on his face. Haitham held his gaze for an unnecessary moment longer, before he smiled in satisfaction and pulled away.

“Besides I know he doesn’t like me.”

“Ha? How come?”

Haitham shrugged.

“We had an unfortunate exchange of views some years ago.”

Cyno raised an eyebrow, ignoring his still hammering heart from the stunt before. Haitham was right though. He wasn’t the easiest person to love but that didn’t mean it was less rewarding to when he did. Quite the opposite.

He dismissed the thoughts. For now.

“And you think he’s going to held it against you?”

“Of course.” Haitham said, fixing his hair a bit.

Cyno hummed again.

“Especially if you’re his son. He’s not going to approve you being with just anyone.”

Cyno frowned.

“Haitham, I am an adult. If Professor has a problem with the choice of my partner, then that’s…his problem not mine.”

Haitham didn’t respond.

“But I don’t think he will.”

“That would be preferrable.”

Cyno signed. He grabbed the tails of Haitham’s tunic and dragged him to his level. Then he dipped his fingers of both his hands into Haitham’s perfectly styled hair and purposely messed it up.

He silenced his murmur of protest with a silent ‘hush’. Haitham sighed and let Cyno do what he wanted until his hair was back to his usual look.

“There.” He said and then pressed his forehead to Haitham’s, eyes closed. “Just be your typical self. That’s all I want.”

“Usually, people do not enjoy my ‘typical’ self you know.” He murmured.

Cyno snorted.

“I am not just anyone.”

Haitham’s lips twitched.

“That you aren’t.”

Cyno pushed him away.

“We’ll be late.”

Haitham looked at the clock.

“Mn. Indeed.”

“Professor won’t like it.”

Haitham looked at him for a moment before he smirked.

He grabbed Cyno around the waist and brought him close for a deep kiss.

“Too bad.” He said when they parted and Cyno had to put his hand on the dresser behind him when Haitham let him go so suddenly.

He disappeared into the kitchen, before he reappeared with a bottle of chilled Mondstad wine.

“A peace offering.”

Cyno smiled briefly.

When they closed the door, Cyno took his hand and huffed in amusement.

“So you are nervous.”

“A bit.” He finally admitted and looked at Cyno. “I believe we are now very fashionably late. Shall we?”

“Mhm.” Cyno hummed, squeezing Alhaitham’s trembling hand in his and they set off to meet the man that raised Cyno and gave him a home.

AO3 link

[ovaryacted]

PAIRING: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x f! reader || WC: 900 CW: MDNI/18+. NSFW. Missionary Position/Mating Press. Overstimulation. Mentions of sub-space. Logan is an endearing tease.

Alright...Y'all know I just had to. If it wasn't already evident based on my previous posts, Wolverine is rotting my brain and Hugh Jackman snuck up on me in my sleep and slipped into my head again. I had to get this out of my system before I went insane lmao, and don't worry, I have longer pieces in mind for claw daddy. When writing this, I also imagined the X-Men version of Logan cause I loved the og movies, so this isn't the variant Logan from the Deadpool movie but imagine whichever version tickles your fancy! Thanks to @ozarkthedog for helping me pinpoint his characterization btw. <3

At times, Logan knew he could be a lot to handle. Not that he would really give a fuck most days, but he became more conscious of his presence when he met you. Softer, much more pliant in comparison to him, covered in hard muscle and rugged tendons. You didn’t mind his intensity, much less his overbearing weight and heavy hand. In fact, you welcomed all of him and encouraged him to let loose and forget about his fears regarding how he handled you.

“I’m not made of glass, Logan. I can take it, trust me.”

You told him once, his eyes silently apprehensive as he glanced at you. He was always careful, always self-aware, and treated you with respect. You knew it would take much more convincing to get exactly what you wanted with your lover, who was too adamant about keeping Logan and Wolverine separated in your relationship. But just this once, you asked for his trust to try something else, something a little different.

Ultimately, you got what you wanted, but your curious ambition may have underestimated the situation.

Legs pinned above his broad shoulders, Logan’s hips hammered into you as he fucked you into the mattress. You’ve lost track of time since he pulled the first orgasm between your legs, the tip of his nose and upper lip covered in your slick, glistening under the dim lighting of your bedroom. He surprised you as he kept going, pulling another release out of you with the use of his thick fingers, and a third the moment he slipped his body into yours over and over again.

The back of your head lay limp against the crumbled pillow underneath, thighs shaking on impact and your body jolting upwards with every thrust Logan gave you. You didn’t have the energy to moan or cry out for him anymore, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath, and your hands loosely held his flexing biceps.

You were lost, so far gone into pleasure, your brain wasn’t working anymore. The only thing on your mind was how the tip of Logan’s cock continued to hit that spot inside you with rehearsed precision, sending you further into that fuzzy headspace you seemed to enjoy. Your eyesight grew hazy, glossed over with tears on your lashline that began to fall down your warm cheeks. You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt a comforting palm on your face, fingertips tapping along your cheekbone in an attempt to ground you back to reality.

“You still with me, sugar?” He asked, gravelly voice filtering through your ears. You whined in response, pupils losing focus as your eyes fluttered closed.

“Not a single thought in your head now, huh?” The creases on Logan’s temple became more prominent as he smirked, deep strokes intensifying the heat you felt deep in your gut.

“C’mon sweetheart, need to hear you say something. Talk to me.” His nose bumped into yours, huffs evident on your bottom lip as you struggled to find your voice.

“Logan...” Your voice was breathless and raw, trailing off into a meek whimper at the feel of his other hand squeezing your waist. Your eyes trailed up to his own, hazel irises and a toothy smile came into view, causing you to clench around him. 

“There she is. This too much for you?” He knew it was, knew that this was what you asked of him, to push your limits and bring you to the point of no return.

Your mind fizzled out, the grip on his arm waning as he continued to thrust hard into you. You gave him a feeble nod, finding enough stamina to provide an answer. It was too much; three orgasms in, and your entire body felt on edge and overstimulated, sensitive to anything that was done or said within the confines of your bedroom. And yet, you didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to eat your own words and make him proud.

“I know, honey, I know. Just giving you what you wanted.” Logan teased, his tone dripping with sarcasm that matched his cocky expression.

You could feel yourself getting closer, your thighs and knees shaking on either side of his head. He continued to move against you, the hand that was on your waist drifted between your legs, seeking out your throbbing clit. His thumb pressed into the engorged nub, rubbing it in diligent circles that sent your hips jolting away from him. Logan held on to one of your thighs, pressing it towards the mattress and bending forward to pin you in place. Your heart raced, your chest ached, and you tightened at the violent wave of your next climax threatening to wash over you. 

“Keep your eyes on me, right up here. I gotcha.” Logan said, maintaining the powerful drives of his hips until you came around him with a scream of his name, doing your best to hold his gaze. You sobbed at the feeling, a neverending spiral of bliss filling your body and making your head go blank.

“That’s right, atta girl. Keep looking at me.” He rasped, groaning loudly under his breath and leaning down to give you a bruising kiss, spilling into you and filling you to the brim not that long afterwards.

Sure, Logan can be a lot to tolerate sometimes, but you didn’t mind being the one to handle him.

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[darkisucksanditwrites]

Hurt

“Sit.” Alhaitham gestures towards the couch and Cyno hesitates. It’s a nice couch, old but fancy, with plush pillows and a handmade cover. He can easily picture Alhaitham lounging on it in the afternoon with a good book and glass of wine or a cup of tea.

He doesn’t want to taint it.

He shouldn’t be here.

fic on AO3

[kflixnet]

Check out our member Rania's drabble!!

06:43pm | kim mingyu

SYNOPSIS. in which you ask your sleepy husband the *most* important question in the world. PAIRING. husband!kim mingyu x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, tiny bit suggestive at the end, established relationship WARNINGS. kissing, terms of endearment, implied that he’s um shirtless WORD COUNT. 916

"Gyu?"

Mingyu stirs slightly right next to you, and you would think he would open his eyes up to his name, but he doesn't. You see the way he falls back into his napping state, and it makes you chuckle softly. Reaching a careful finger out, you faintly trace the line of his cheekbone, mapping out to the mole to his cheek, while relishing the soft warmth of his skin beneath your touch.

You notice a faint smile quivering of his lips from your feather-light touch. It's a heartwarming sight, knowing that even in his dreams, he seems content, peaceful. However, your gentle touch eventually awakens him from his slumber, and he shifts once more, this time more noticeably.

With a soft groan, his eyes slowly flutter open, gaze meeting yours, and he manages a tired, yet affectionate smile, hands coming to grab at the sheets to cover over his bare upper body. Your finger is still tracing down his jawline, and he shivers with a pleasant shudder at your touch.

"Hi," You greet him softly.

"Hey," he mumbles with half-lidded eyes, voice still husky from the long nap.

"I have a question for you," You tell him, keeping your tone serious. "It's very important, and I want you to be fully, one-hundred percent honest with me right now."

He yawns, letting his arms stretch as he lets out a deep breath, before encircling back around you and pulling you closer to him. You watch the way his sleepy grin transforms into a contented smile as he holds you close, feeling the way his chest rises and falls with each breath that left those pretty lips of his.

"M’kay," he responds quietly.

There's a playful glint in your eyes that he swears he sees, but he's too tired to fully register it and way too comfortable to say anything more, so he just watches you in anticipation.

You lean in closer, voice dropping to a whisper.

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

Mingyu's drowsy gaze meets yours, and he blinks slowly and furrows his brows together, as if he's processing the question like he's hearing it for the first time, or like a puzzle he has to put together in his sleepy mind. You swear you could see the way the question bounces around in his half-awake thoughts, playing in his brain like a delightful riddle.

"Sweetheart," he murmurs. "we're married."

He's right, of course. His words hang in the air for a moment, and then a knowing smile spreads across your face, realising how absurd it may seem to ask such a question after all this time together, but you know you just asked for his reaction. You can't help but burst into a fit of giggles at his groggy yet utterly adorable state. Mingyu only blinks at your laughter, looking momentarily puzzled before a small smile crosses his lips.

"Oops," You quip teasingly. "I guess I forgot."

He pouts exaggeratingly at this, and not just a pout, but a pout pout. "How could you forget that?"

His sulky expression tugs endearingly at your heartstrings. You reach out to gently cup his cheek apologetically, your thumb brushing over his lower lip.

"Aw, my sweet baby," You coo amusingly. "I didn't forget, I promise. I'm just teasing, and I love hearing it from you."

Even if you've been married for years now, the way his cheeks flush a soft pink at your words, and the way his eyes light up with adoration, makes your heart flutter just as it did when you were just young, dumb, and in love. There's something about hearing those reminders that yes, you are married𑁋you married the love of your life, the same man who you've been pining for since the moment you laid eyes on him and who still makes your heart skip a beat after all these years.

The journey from strangers to friends, to dating, to finally saying "I do" had been filled with ups and downs, but it was a journey you wouldn't trade a single second of it for anything in the world, all because it led you to this exact moment.

"Hmm, you better not forget ever," he warns, letting out a faux grumble, but you notice the corners of his lips are fighting back a smile. You know he can never stay mad for long, especially when you tease him like this. "or I'd have to remind you every day."

I wouldn't mind that, You think, chuckling softly before leaning in to plant a loving kiss on his pouty lips, which seems to melt away any lingering sleepiness surrounding him instantly. I wouldn't mind that at all.

When you press another kiss to his lips, he responds by deepening it almost naturally, his strong arms coming to wrap around you more tightly. You feel the way he smiles under the kiss, the warmth of his body enveloping you completely. And when you feel his fingers start to dance along your back, you let out let out a soft, breathy sigh against his lips, and there's a smirk that forms at his mouth from the response he elicits from you.

His lips part from yours, and he trails a line of soft kisses along your jawline, each one causing your heartbeat to quicken. He nuzzles his face against your neck, peppering it with affectionate kisses that make you lightly giggle, before coming to the sensitive spot behind your ear.

"And you're not just pretty, honey," he whispers between kisses, warm breath caressing against your skin, and you tilt your head back slightly to grant him more access. "You're goddamn breathtaking."

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[darkisucksanditwrites]

compromise

Everyone knew him as the rational one, the person who was never swayed by unnecessary emotions or feelings, the person who could effortlessly analyze the situation and make the most logical, efficient and favorable decision, consequences be damned.

So he couldn’t really fault Cyno for giving him this confused and disbelieving look at his obviously unreasonable request. Cyno just had that effect on him. Made him a little bit irrational.

“What did you say?”

Alhaitham sighed through his nose and repeated the words.

“I said that I think you shouldn’t go.”

Cyno frowned.

“Why?”

Alhaitham opened his mouth but he hesitated, for the first time ever probably not knowing how to explain what he meant.

“It’s dangerous.” He finally settled on. Cyno snorted.

“Of course. Hence why I am going.”

“Alone.”

Cyno nodded.

“No backup Matra. No Corps of Thirty. Not even a hired mercenary.”

“Correct.”

“Then take me with you.”

Cyno looked taken aback.

“Alhaitham, with all due respect, but no. You have a country to run.”

Alhaitham gritted his teeth.

So what? What good is a country without its protector?

“Cyno.”

He shook his head.

“No. Sumeru is in a fragile state right now. If it’ll lose its Acting Grand Sage – the only thing keeping it together – it will crumble.”

And what about me then? Do you know what will happen if I lose you? I don’t even know that myself. I’d rather not know.

“Still.” He insisted. “I can help at least watch your back.” Let me be by your side.

Cyno sighed again and dropped his hands from where he had them crossed over his chest.

“I am not a child, Alhaitham. I can take care of myself.”

“I am aware.” The Scribe closed his eyes. “That’s not the issue.”

Cyno waited patiently.

“There’s something wrong with the Intel.” He finally admitted.

That piqued Cyno’s interest.

“What do you mean?”

Alhaitham opened his eyes, a frown on his features once again.

“I am not sure.” He said, mulling over the information. It looked solid on the surface but something bothered him about it. It felt like he was missing a crucial component, a clue or something else to pinpointing the issue.

“Alhaitham. You need to give me something more solid than that.”

“My gut is telling me you’re in danger.”

Cyno rolled his eyes.

“I am always in danger. Something more solid than your gut.”

Alhaitham resisted the urge to run his hands through his hair in frustration.

“You won’t be persuaded.”

Cyno shook his head slowly.

“Nope. I have to go. It’s my duty. And your duty is here.” He stepped closer to the Scribe to look him straight in the eyes. “I won’t cancel a mission just based on your hunches. Hope you understand.”

Alhaitham returned his gaze, the feeling of hopelessness settling in his chest.

“I understand.” He said quietly. Cyno nodded.

“Good. You will hear from me back in two weeks.”

Alhaitham lips pulled downwards. That was another thing which bothered him immensely. Cyno wouldn’t be able to send proper and regular communication during the whole duration of the mission which meant total radio silence.

He won’t know what happened to him unless he sees him again.

And he hoped it would be in his office where their next meeting would take place. Not anywhere else.

Cyno’s gaze softened a bit.

“Alhaitham.” He brushed his fingers over Alhaitham’s wrist and then pulled them way.

He nodded.

“May I have one more selfish request?”

Cyno let out a tiny breath.

“Let’s hear it.” He graciously decided to indulge the Scribe.

Alhaitham put both hands on Cyno’s shoulders and squeezed reassuringly, more for his own sake than the General’s. “Promise you’ll be safe.” He said and to Cyno’s shock, pressed his lips to the top of his head.

“Alhait-“

“Promise .” He stressed. Cyno went quiet.

His hands grabbed Alhaitham’s wrists suddenly, thumbs pressing into the soft skin where his pulse thrummed erratically.

“We’ll talk about this when you’re back.” He murmured against Cyno’s hair.

Cyno squeezed his wrists harder.

“I promise.” He lied easily. Alhaitham knew he couldn’t promise him that, but he still needed to hear it.

He nodded and looked down at Cyno.

“Good. I am relieved then.” He lied back just as easily.

fic on AO3 

[satorena]

satorena.. 🌞prone bone with gojo that’s it.

୭ ˚. you snatch his soul via pussy— call that soul tie or whatever.

cw. explicit content. foul language. light dirty talk. love making. prǒne bǒne. spit play. praíse kink. afab!reader. lowkey sub gojo. 900 wc.

“fuuuckk baby,” he whines, head lolling forward as his arms tremble beneath him. the plushness of your soft ass ripples against his pelvis hypnotically, your velvety walls sucking his cock in almost achingly. tousled white hairs are matted with sweat and bangs glued to his forehead, as his eyes squint shut, focusing on anything but cumming too soon. “yeahhh, take this dick, lovely. ‘s all yours— shit,”

your feet lock around the back of his knees, arms spread as your fingers tighten around the dampened sheets beneath you for stability. with a slackened jaw, you moan wantonly as your hips push back to fuck yourself onto him. shit, you think you feel him reaching your throat with how large he is— so hot, thick and invasive inside your guts, the penetration just right at your spongy spots.

your back dips into a tantalizing curve as you find a rhythm in the sound of his heartbeat drumming against his pec. you tilt your head back, chin now upwards and lips ghosting right beneath his own parted ones. his breath is warm, bottom lip tickling right above your top one.

“open up f’me,” he says breathlessly, and as if you truly know him to the core, your jaw slackens further as your pink tongue lolls out. he lands a wad of spit right onto the muscle rather slowly, cerulean eyes narrowed into the sinful sight of you. you moan eagerly, awaiting his saliva down your tastebuds. with a soft plop, you roll around his taste in your mouth before sticking your tongue out to show your obedience, “ugh, my perfect fuckin’ girl.” a trickle of spit escapes and dribbles down your chin, past your neck and right in between your tits.

your breasts jiggle in sync with the clash of your asscheeks against him, and he’s so overwhelmed in fuck ton of emotions— your pussy kegels around his dick, so painfully wet he can barely feel his own cock anymore, perfect tits bouncing in plain sight and the way your face contorts in bliss as you shamefully use him for your own pleasure.

and as your voice drips in honey, so sultry and seductive he’d think you’re a siren lulling him into the depths of hell, “mmh, you like that, huh?”

fuck,

“marry me,” he whispers softly before capturing your swollen lips within his own. he moans inside your mouth and swallows your own sounds like a thirsty man, pulling away just barely as a thin string of saliva connects between you both. “oh god— marry me, please, marry me princess,”

your giggle sounds as breathless as you feel, tilting your neck in favour of peppering kisses at his sharp jaw. he groans loudly when you pamper him at his sensitive spot, cock twitching madly inside your warmth.

you trail your tongue against the slope of his neck, “toru, shut up.” you smile softly, though you bring an arm forward to wrap your hand around his bicep. your fingernails graze at his bulging muscles tenderly, and the look in your eyes make his heart skip a beat. his pretty girlfriend with her pretty eyes and pretty lashes and pretty nose and pretty smile and pretty full cheeks,

so maybe he proposes to you one too many times during sex, but how can he not want to cuff you when you fuck him on the brink of tears? who else is he supposed to find that’ll have him surrendering his entire being to? his stomach feels in knots, whether it’s butterflies or an oncoming orgasm— he’s not too sure, but god, he knows he never wants to pull out.

“want you for a lifetime, baby,” it’s as good of an explanation you’ll get, his hips now grinding into your cunt, hoping to explain the rest of unsaid words. he smiles boyishly when you gasp at the feeling of his tip rolling around inside, clawing tightly at firm muscles. your head leans forward as your legs drop back onto the bed, and you’re biting your bottom lip, “need you for a lifetime.”

“‘m all yours, toru,” you whimper, feeling both powerless yet empowered as his sweaty chest meets your sweatier back. his hair tickles at your neck as his lips ghost over your ears, his tongue dragging all over the shell, “always have been, ngh, always will be.”

fuck, you have him wrapped around your finger. his balls are heavy and ache, begging to release his proof of undying love inside of you— where it belongs. his strokes work frantically, shamelessly desperate for more of that gooey wetness the second he pulls out. he feels that coat of your unity around the base of his cock, and at a particular angle, you tremble beneath him.

bingo.

“in this lifetime,” he aims at that golden spot again. your body quivers pathetically and he presses a kiss at your temple, “in the next,” he pistons his tip at the same area, and now you have tears rolling down your cheeks. he leans forward to lick them away, “and the one after that,” your legs flail as your heels dig into the small of his back.

the pressure is getting too much for you, he notices as your body reacts before your mind can process, instantly reaching forward to evade the overwhelmingness of his thrusts. no, he won’t let you run away. not when you’ve just said you’re his. not when he hasn’t had a chance to say—

“i’m soul bonded to you. my entire being is yours, baby.”

first attempt ever at a drabble. . . perioddd ( ? )