#t:oneshot

[enhypenwriters]

🛑 Warning 18+ Content 🛑

Read at own choice

Member: Jay

#nyanggk writes #m:jay #g:18+ #g:romance #g:humor #t:oneshot

[chilligyu]

info: hong jisoo/reader, teen+, street fighter/friends to lovers au genre: drama, romance, angst | word ct: 5k warnings: descriptions of wounds, violence, fighting, blood, unrequited love summary: once upon a time, two young children made a promise. for nearly twenty long years they kept that promise. but everyone has their breaking point. and she found hers. note: this story has been written, rewritten, edited, smooshed together, more times than I care to admit. but,,, I think I finally got it to a point that I'm really proud of. thank you to everyone who's helped me out along the way, @xfirebenderx you have been my saving grace. tysm!!

tagging: @joshuas, @moriiyun, @starlightjoong, @lavenonie and @sincerelyskye

“Please…”

A familiar voice begged her quietly from the darkness.

“Don’t leave me…”

With a shaky hand on the doorknob, she froze. She kept her back to him, unable to fully process what was happening. Trying desperately to fight the urge to run as far away from him as she could.

How did everything go so wrong? She wondered to herself, on the brink of tears. What happened to you?

The answer wasn’t so simple, but God it would’ve been easier if she left. She should’ve left months ago but she didn’t, she couldn’t. She would stay by his side and endure everything because she made him a childish promise so many years ago.

Back when they were young, she promised to never abandon him. To never turn her back, to be there for him because no one else was. And he made promises that echoed the same. They were best friends, after all. It had always been them against the world. Despite that, despite everything they had been through together, her better judgement was screaming at her to go. She wanted nothing more than to leave him behind, to finally save her battered heart from the person who kept breaking it.

From him, Hong Jisoo, the one person she promised she would never leave.

“Okay.” She whispered. “I’ll stay.”

She turned around slowly, stomaching her pride and well-being because he needed her. Inhale, exhale. She wouldn’t cry over him, not yet. He needed her, he needed something. He was laying on her couch, blood soaking the cheap upholstery, and his body was shaking from shock. There wasn’t much she could do, but she was all he had. They were all they had.

While she cleaned his wounds, she struggled to pinpoint the exact moment when he had taken things too far. For as long as she could remember, he had always toed the edge of mostly acceptable and borderline insane with a certain amount of grace. That’s what set him apart from everyone else, apart from his extremely deep sense of justice, overwhelming selflessness, and eagerness to do whatever he could to help people in need. Often at the expense of his own wellbeing.

From chasing purse snatchers to sneaking into abandoned warehouses that weren’t actually abandoned just to save pit bulls from dog fights, Jisoo made it painfully clear that he lacked the minimum amount of self-preservation. It wasn’t uncommon for him to get in way over his head, but she would always be there to help him out. He was a bit of a troublemaker, that much was obvious. Not that she ever cared. Because no matter how much trouble he got into, there was always a good reason. He promised her that a long time ago.

That was a promise he didn’t need to make because she knew full well that Jisoo was, and still is, a good person. Everything he did, every crazy endeavor, was to help people. She had seen it firsthand enough times in her life. That was how they met back in nursery school, after a particularly nasty classmate put gum in her hair Jisoo leapt into action. He tackled the kid to the ground with ease and taught him a thing or two. That was also the first time she saw him get into a fight, and it wouldn’t be the last.

What she couldn’t understand, what she couldn’t even begin to wrap her head around, was why he got into street fighting of all things? Because that wasn’t somewhere in the grey area between acceptable and insane, that was insane. That was way past insane. Not to mention it was against everything Jisoo stood for. How did her capeless hero go from selflessly protecting others to actively hurting people? What changed? What was the reason? And how on earth did she get caught up in this mess?

The answer was simple, and she didn’t like it one bit. All he had to do to convince her was ask. He asked a simple question, one wrapped up in the pact they made as children.

“Remember how you said you’d always be there for me?” He started nervously one afternoon while she was studying in the library. “I have a favor to ask…”

Honestly, she couldn’t remember exactly how he worded it, but she got the gist of it. Her best friend wanted to become a street fighter, to hurt people for money, and he wanted her to come with him. He said he didn’t want to worry his roommates by coming home late at night when he could crash at her place. That way if he got hurt, she could patch him up like she always did, and no one would be the wiser. He discussed all of this with her like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like getting beat up regularly was no big deal at all.

Part of her wanted to scream at him, to berate him for making such reckless decisions, to take him by the ear and drag him home to his parents so they could give him a piece of their mind—

Then, he smiled at her. The very same smile that could melt the coldest of hearts and her mind went completely blank. She couldn’t remember much of the specifics after that because he had effectively hypnotized her with his infectious smile. She didn’t even make a fuss which wasn’t typical of her in the slightest. Not that she could ever imagine saying no to him, nor did she even plan to. He needed her, he’s always needed her.

Still, she desperately wanted it all to be a bad dream. Even as she stood on the sidelines for the very first time watching her best friend get punched, kicked, tackled and more, she prayed that it wasn’t real. She did her best to ignore how he grunted in pain, how the crowd turned ravenous over the sight of spilled blood, and how he looked eerily similar to the caged dogs he used to save from that same fate. Seeing him like that made her heart ache in ways she never knew it could.

How she missed the days when the worst thing Jisoo got involved in was under the table delivery jobs and falling out of trees trying to save stray kittens. Because when she looked at the man standing in the ring wearing her best friend's face, grinning triumphantly with his hands in the air, she could hardly recognize him. He looked nothing like the kid who protected others no matter what. Not with all that blood on his face.

Who are you and what have you done with Jisoo? She worried to herself as she toweled off his brow. Why are you doing this to yourself? What could possibly be worth all of this?

Still, she attended every fight and acted as his personal medic. She promised him that much. And for a short period of time, it went pretty well. For several weeks he was on a winning streak, no one could beat him. Much to the dismay of the people placing bets against him. See, while Jisoo didn’t look like much of a fighter, or the type of guy to even get into a fight, he was really good at it. That’s why she never worried about him being outmatched in the ring, he could handle himself. Not only that, before every match, he made her a promise.

“For good luck?” He asked sheepishly with his pinky finger extended. “I can’t do this without you.”

Looking at his finger, she thought back to all the times they made each other a promise over the tiniest things. It started when they were young. When he was going into a test or a school competition she made him promise to do well, kick ass, and various other things. It seemed silly to her back then, but it always worked out. Because Jisoo always swore up and down that if it was a promise to her, he would follow through without fail. And she believed it, even when the odds were stacked against him. She had to because it was the only way she could sleep at night.

“Promise me you’ll be safe.” She said calmly, locking pinky’s with him.

“I promise.”

“Promise me you’ll be smart.”

“I promise.”

“Promise me you’ll win.” She finished with a weak smile.

He nodded, grinning ear to ear. “I promise.”

Right before he turned away, fully prepared for the violent show he was about to put on, she pulled him back in for a reassuring hug. As much as she didn’t want to see him get hurt, even though she couldn’t stand the thought of watching him helplessly from the sideline, a promise was a promise.

“Be careful out there.” She whispered in his ear.

He held her close for a brief moment. “I will. Don’t worry about me.”

If I don’t then who will?

They lingered a bit longer than either intended. Eventually Jisoo headed out into the crowd with his hands raised proudly over his head, and she pretended to be happy for him. The crowd cheered on the newest contender while her stomach did backflips. Everything seemed fine until his opponent landed a blow that sent Jisoo to his knees. In truth, she almost gave up right then and there.

I think I’m going to be sick...

Why she didn’t draw the line at street fighting back then, the one thing she couldn’t support, was beyond her. Or why she thought it would be a good idea to stand there and constantly watch her best friend get beaten senseless time and time again. She swore that she had absolutely no clue way she let him get away with everything, why she didn’t try to make him see reason long ago—

But she did.

Because I’m hopelessly in love. She sighed, wringing out the blood soaked towel. I’m in love with a man I can never abandon, no matter how much it hurts.

Maybe if she wasn’t, she would’ve had the courage to leave and never look back.

She had accepted that being in love with her best friend was going to be hard, even when she was just silently pining from a distance. In hindsight she didn’t realize how easy it was back then compared to how it is now. Watching the man she loved throw himself into dangerous situations with reckless abandon or never knowing when he would appear on her doorstep in dire need of help did not bode well for her sanity. Because loving Hong Jisoo was the equivalent to getting her heart broken every single day. She had to be ready to lose track of him for several days, she had to be willing to drive to the ER at three in the morning, and she lived every day wondering if today was the day. The day that he happily followed his moral compass off a cliff simply because it pointed him there.

The moment that Jisoo stopped being a misguided rescuer and became a selfless martyr wasn’t one she could name. When they were in school, everything seemed so innocent. He was always trying to save the lost souls of the world, even the ones who didn’t want saving. He would only date girls who needed fixing, doted on friends that needed his help, and everyday he tried to save people from themselves.

Surprisingly, she didn’t fit into any of those categories. She was the type to save herself. Throughout their lives she never asked him for anything, and perhaps that’s why they were such good friends. The last thing she wanted to be was another one of his projects, a hopeless cause he refused to give up on. If anything—he was hers. Over the years she stood by him, desperately hoping that he would eventually get a grip on reality. That maybe he would see the light and stop being so—good. She hated herself for thinking about it that way, but it was the truth. She knew better than anyone that if he didn’t find some sort of balance he would run himself to the ground.

Much like he was actively doing.

“Not going to wish me good luck today?” He teased her as he wrapped his fists.

She rolled her eyes. “You need a lot more than luck, Jisoo.”

“Ouch.” He winced unconvincingly. “Don’t tell me you’re going to break tradition, I don’t know how I’ll make it without you.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” She muttered.

“I didn’t realize that my concern for safety was ridiculous!” He laughed, clearly unable to read the room. “C’mon, don’t leave me hanging. I need you.”

And I need you to stop hurting yourself.

Despite her thoughts, she raised her pinky finger towards him with a sigh. “Promise me.”

She made him promise to be quick on his feet, to be smart out there, and to win. While the words spilled out of her mouth she had a sinking feeling in her stomach, heavy and all consuming. Dread. And as he ran out to start his fight the feeling only got worse. Something was about to go terribly wrong and she knew it.

Her mind wandered back to their days in school, when Jisoo was the beautiful contradiction of a perfect student with a shady background. People saw him running deliveries late at night, dealing a lot in cash and thought the worst. She knew the truth, she knew that his neighbour had injured himself and couldn’t afford to hire anyone to take care of deliveries. So instead of watching from the sideline, Jisoo did what he did best. He helped the old man secretly and accepted what little payment he could offer.

How she missed those days of innocence and promise. How she missed the memories of Jisoo’s selfless actions, ones that were slowly being lost beneath the sea of blood.

It turns out she was right to be worried. It was the first time Hong Jisoo ever broke a promise to her. He was carried out of the makeshift arena by two other fighters, barely able to stand on his own. They threw him at her feet and left without a word because he had lost. Before shock had a chance to set in she scrambled to his side with a wet rag, instinctively wiping off the blood that covered him while she did her best to keep her dinner down. He looked—he looked terrible. She had a hard time recalling a worse sight in her entire life.

He was barely recognizable.

“I’m sorry…” He said weakly, his good eye pleading with her. “I broke my promise…”

“Shut up.” She instructed him. “Don’t even think of that right now, let’s just get you home.”

It was a struggle getting him back to her apartment. He wasn’t a big guy but he wasn’t tiny either. Luckily her roommates were nowhere to be seen so they wouldn’t have to explain anything to them. Only a few people knew the truth of Jisoo and she had a feeling that the list was getting shorter. After lugging him up the stairs she got him onto her couch, not even bothering to try and keep it clean, and pulled the med kit out of her bag.

Since he started fighting she had no shortage of rags to clean him up with, they had become somewhat of a necessity. Still, she somehow dirtied every single one trying to get him clean. It would’ve been easier to sit him in a hot shower and let modern technology work its magic, but he couldn’t sit up on his own let alone stand. Not only that, he kept drifting in and out of consciousness. She didn’t want to risk him falling.

Eventually he was clean and everything seemed to be—okay. Or as okay as he could be after that. Just looking at him had her on the brink of tears. She couldn’t stand seeing him like that, a mere shadow of the man she had loved for so long. His right eye was swollen shut, his nose most definitely had been broken, and the smile that melted her heart had been cut through. She didn’t even dare to look at the rest of him, at the bruises peering out from underneath his tank top and the open wounds that seeped through his jeans.

I need to be strong. She decided. For him.

Except that was only an hour ago.

And she had no strength left.

Once he fell asleep her resolve finally broke. She promised herself when this all began that she would never let him know how much the whole ordeal hurt her deep down inside. No matter what, she wouldn’t cry in front of him. She wouldn’t be someone he had to worry about, she wouldn’t be able to forgive herself. But enough was enough. Whether she wanted to or not, she couldn’t stop the tears from falling. She wept freely over someone she cared for, admired, and loved despite everything he put her through. Because he swore that even if every bone in his body was broken, he would never break a promise to her.

But he did, and she couldn’t trust him anymore.

“Please…” He begged quietly. “Don’t cry…”

She didn’t stir at the sound of his voice, or the reassuring hand on hers. “Why are you doing this to yourself, Jisoo? What is worth all of this pain? Can you at least tell me that much?”

Silence descended upon them in response to the one question that he refused to answer. It drove her crazy, that he was doing this to himself and wouldn’t even tell her why. Why he suddenly transitioned from an angelic rebel without a cause to a ruthless brawler in the streets. She felt like the little boy that chased away bullies was slipping from her grasp, the Jisoo that was laying in front of her—she could hardly recognize.

And she decided that night that she wouldn’t have a part in it anymore.

The next time he called her to meet him for a fight, she didn’t respond. Nor did she respond to any message he left after that. For weeks she had absolutely nothing to do with Hong Jisoo. He left her a dozen voicemails, a hundred messages, and she told herself that she didn’t care. He broke a promise to her so she broke one to him. She couldn’t stand there and let him break her heart over and over again without consequence. Street fighting—she wasn’t going to support that any longer.

That didn’t mean her heart didn’t ache for him anymore. She wasn’t sure if that would ever be the case. She made some acquaintances while she attended Jisoo’s fights so she was able to keep tabs on him, forever fearing the moment when he was going to take it too far. When, not if, the next call she got from him came from a hospital. Sometimes the news was good, sometimes it was bad. She felt equally terrible each time.

In fact she felt terrible consistently, regardless of Jisoo fighting or not. As the days passed the sensation only seemed to get worse. She left him to stop feeling so horrible, to let her heart heal in some way. Apparently leaving him wasn’t as easy as she hoped. She still longed to see him, to make sure he was okay, to be there for the one person who had always been there for her. The one who asked her to stand by him, and the one she left behind.

After not speaking to him for almost a month she showed up at his apartment with kiwi ice cream as an apology. It wasn’t much, but that’s all she needed in the past so at least it would be a good start if he was still mad at her—if he had ever been mad at her at all. They had never really fought before, not to a point where she refused to talk to him. It was new territory for both of them. She had to keep reminding herself that things would never be the same and she would have to accept it. This was his life now, and maybe it could be hers.

When he opened the door though, her heart stopped.

Jisoo was basically bandaged from head to toe, his arm was held precariously in a sling and what little skin she could see was beaten black and blue. Butterfly bandaids kept open wounds together, injuries she had already taken care of had scarred, and her heart shattered into a million pieces all over again.

“Hey.” He greeted, ignoring her devastated expression. “Long time no see.”

“Jisoo…” She gasped. “You—you’re—”

“I’m fine.” He tried to reassure her. “I know it looks bad but I’m—”

“If you say I’m fine one more time I’m going to snap.” She hissed through her teeth. “You’re not fine, you look like absolute hell. You can’t keep doing this to yourself!”

He laughed, quite unconvincingly. “This is nothing, I promise you I’m—“

“Enough of your stupid promises!” She screamed at him. “I’m fucking sick of them!”

“I know I broke my promise to you,” He started with a sigh, “but we both knew that just because I promised you something, didn’t mean that I—”

He stopped when he saw the tears falling from her eyes.

“Oh please don’t cry.” He begged. “You can yell at me, you can hate me, but please, please, don’t cry.”

“I won’t stop.” She informed him. “If you’re going to keep going out and fighting for no goddamn reason and coming back looking like this then I’m not going to stop worrying about you!”

Shaking his head, he headed back into his apartment. “And if I have a reason?”

“Then tell me!” She begged as she finally unraveled. “Jisoo—if you’re not going to tell me why you’re doing this then I can’t be your friend anymore. I can’t stand here and watch you get beaten up for money. And I hate that you even asked me in the first place! I’ve been through enough for you and have asked for anything, not a damn thing except for an explanation! After everything I’ve endured for you I’m pretty fucking sure I’m owed that much!”

As he turned back around she could see the hurt in his eyes. “I know, I know, I’m sorry, I just—it’ll get better, I’ll prepare more, I—”

“You’re completely missing the point!” She cried. “I’m not watching the person I love get beat within an inch of his life every other night! I can’t do this anymore! I’m sick of worrying about you every time you’re out of my sight. It’s not fair, it’s not healthy! And you’re honestly an asshole if you think I’m going to stand by you while you do this for a minute longer!”

When she turned to leave, her confession laid out at his feet, broken and bloody like her heart, Jisoo reached out for her one last time.

“What did you just say?” He whispered, sorrow in his eyes. “Did you just—”

“Yes.” She confirmed. “I love you Jisoo and I always have, but I won’t put myself through this anymore. Since you’re not going to stop then this is goodbye. I can’t love a man who doesn’t even care that he’s broken my heart more times than I can count.”

He didn’t let go of her.

“Please, let me explain.” He pleaded with her. “Don’t leave like this.”

“So now you’re going to tell me?” She spat, turning and yanking her arm from his grasp. “After I’ve just confessed to you now you’re going to tell me everything? I didn’t realize the truth came with a price. You’re an ass that’s got everyone fooled. Even me.”

“I know, I am.” He agreed, running his good hand through his hair. “I didn’t want to bother you with my reasons, I didn’t want to get you involved. But it wasn’t fair of me to keep you in the dark like that. I never should’ve done that to you.”

Crossing her arms, she waited.

“You remember that old man I helped out as a kid?” He started. “The shop owner?”

She nodded.

“A car crashed into his shop a few months ago.” He continued. “The damage was too much for insurance to cover and he didn’t have the money to get it fixed on his own so I offered to help. My usual side jobs weren’t paying me enough, so my boss told me about the underground fights and how lucrative they can be…”

“Jisoo—” She exasperated. “Please tell me you haven’t been—”

“I have.” He admitted sheepishly. “I’ve been—I’ve been giving him the winnings from my fights. To help him out. I just wanted him to—”

“You’re telling me that this has just been another one of your selfless missions?” She questioned in disbelief. “Have you told him where the money’s coming from? Does he know that you’re risking your life for him? Do you think that’s what he wants? Do you think that anyone with any ounce of decency would ever want this?”

Jisoo pursed his lips. “Well, no, but that’s why I didn’t tell you. I didn’t—don’t—want him to know. It would break his heart—”

“So it’s okay to break my heart but not his?” She laughed bitterly. “You know what, fine. I’m done. You’ve shown me that you only care about the well-being of others. I’m obviously nothing to you. I don’t even care why you’re doing this anymore. I’m leaving, and you—”

He interrupted her tirade with a kiss. Forceful and desperate, trying to cling to whatever relationship they had. One that had been mangled and shredded to a point where she wasn’t sure there was anything left to save. Mustering her strength, she pushed him away. She might’ve loved him but that wasn’t what she wanted.

“You’re right.” He finally admitted. “Losing you isn’t worth all of this, I’ll stop. Promise.”

“Your promises mean nothing to me.” She said vehemently, tears springing from her eyes in anger. “What’s to say you won’t break this one too?”

“Because I love you.” He whispered. “And I know now that everything I’ve put your through hasn’t been right or fair but I promise—I swear that this will be different. No more fighting, that all stops now.”

She wasn’t convinced. “And what about tomorrow when someone asks you for a loan? Or when some stranger needs your fucking kidney? What’re you going to do then? I love that you’re so needlessly kind and generous but what you’re doing isn’t kindness anymore. It’s martyrdom and I’m scared of what you’re going to do next! At what point do you finally say no?”

For a long time there was silence.

“I’m sorry.” He returned quietly. “I’m sorry that I don’t know when to stop and I’m sorry that you always get dragged into these things. I’m sorry that I’ve just become so accustomed to your support that I expect it regardless of how stupid I’m being. I’m sorry that I didn’t know how much I was hurting you, I’m sorry that I’m in love with you just like you’re in love with me. I’m sorry I’m probably the hardest person in the world to love. But I promise you that things will be different now.”

She wanted to believe him, she really did. She wanted to run into his arms, never let him go, and have everything return to normal. She wanted to go back to when they were teenagers hiding a stray dog in his garage so his parents didn’t find out, back to when the only calls she got in the middle of the night were about new adventures and childish discoveries. Back when loving Jisoo didn’t hurt. Not like this.

She wasn’t sure that existed anymore.

“Jisoo I don’t—” She started, chewing on her lower lip. “I don’t know if I can forget these past couple months, let alone forgive them. You proved to me that I barely know you anymore and I don’t know how to move past that.”

He nodded in understanding, he knew it was going to take a lot more than an apology to win her back. “Alright, what do you want to do then?”

A hysterical laugh spilled past her lips. “Now that I really don’t know. Just—I don’t think I can trust you as a friend so I definitely won’t trust you as anything more. I love you but—but love isn’t always enough. It’s going to take more than a guilt ridden apology to help me move on.”

“What about a promise?” He offered with a soft smile. “A promise to you.”

“Jisoo…” She sighed. “A broken promise brought us here in the first place.”

“I’m not asking you to make me promise, I’m making a promise to you.” He clarified. “No pinky promises required.”

That caught her off guard.

“I promise to never get into another paid fight.” He began confidently. “I promise to never let anything like this ever happen again. I promise not to put myself in harm's way unless I’m protecting someone. I promise to take my well-being into consideration. I promise to do everything in my power to make it up to you. And I promise to be your friend no matter what.”

While he said no pinky promises required, they locked their little fingers almost reflexively. At that realization she started sobbing, letting that small promise make her feel happy and safe for the first time in a long while. She was unsure of where they would go from there, but she had a good feeling that everything would be okay if given enough time. Because Jisoo made her a promise, and as much as she protested their childish tradition, he always made it a point to keep his promises.

#thesvttown #kpopscape #ficscafe #joshua fanfic #joshua scenarios #svt fanfic #svt scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios #joshua #seventeen #svt #fic:svt #m:hjs #g:drama #g:romance #g:angst #r:pg15 #w:5k #t:oneshot #tw:violence #tw:blood #tw:fighting #p:3rd #s:reader #lex writes #chilligyu #*black and blue

[qobiin]

to live for us

pairing: gratsu (gray x natsu)

genre: angst, fluff | established relationship, canon-compliant

warnings: mentioned suicide attempt, post-galuna island arc, hurt/comfort, gray needs therapy

word count: 1684

summary: Natsu and Gray finally sit down and talk about Gray's Iced Shell attempt on Galuna Island.

“We need to talk.”

Natsu looks up from the drink Mirajane set down on the table before him a few minutes ago. Gray is standing in front of him, arms crossed against his chest in an attempt to stop his hands from subconsciously removing his clothes.

It never works, but Gray is of the mind that it makes him appear more intimidating than he actually is. Of course, Natsu isn’t sure he could ever find someone who wears underwear with hearts on them intimidating.

“Finally!” Natsu cheers, forcing a smile onto his face even when it’s the last thing he wishes to do. “Back home then?”

Gray nods even as he scowls, but he turns on his heel and immediately makes his way towards Fairy Tail’s doors anyway. Natsu jumps up from his seat and waves goodbye to Lucy who is sitting at the bar with Erza.

Happy looks up at him as he stands, but Natsu only has to wave wordlessly at him before the blue cat returns to focusing on his food. Gray is already halfway across the room, not one to wait or beat around the bush for important conversations like the one they are going to have. Natsu follows after him with his signature smile stuck in place, making sure to not have anything appear out of the ordinary about this situation.

He catches a few Fairy Tail members giving them odd glances, probably due to his and Gray’s lack of fighting and loud taunting. Natsu only waves pointedly at them before they avert their gazes and return back to what they were doing beforehand.

Natsu does not try to be subtle as he sniffs the air, taking in the familiar mix of scents in the guild. Everyone in the guild has known him long enough to know about the extent of the abilities he gained through the Dragon Slayer Magic that Igneel taught him as a child. There’s no need to be secretive around his hoard anyway.

Out in the streets, trailing after Gray as he leads them home, Natsu tones down on his sniffing as best as he can. If he garners a few strange or confused looks though, he doesn’t beat himself up about it. Most of these people will write off his behavior as a weird wizard thing and continue on with their day as they give him a wide berth. There is no need to worry.

His attention is drawn back to the moment when the scents start to signal his proximity to their home. Gray reaches the front door first and unlocks it, leaving it open for Natsu behind him.

The smell of home almost knocks him off his feet as he crosses the threshold. It’s just his, Happy, and Gray’s scents here, with hints of Erza scattered all around. Albeit, Gray’s scent is a bit stale considering the fact this is his first time returning home since they came back from Galuna Island.

They escaped punishment for breaking guild rules because the master wasn’t there but Natsu would like to not switch bodies with anyone ever again. It has been a few days at this point and still, Gray has not returned home. Natsu has been waiting patiently for this moment when they will sit down and discuss what is wrong.

Gray is sitting on their bed, shoes off and hands gripping the bottom of his shirt. Natsu reaches out and stops him from stripping, eyes on Gray’s face as the man focuses back in on the moment at present.

“Thanks,” Gray mumbles sullenly, his gaze downcast.

Natsu doesn’t say anything. He merely waits.

“I know you’re mad at me, but if you could tell me why you’re mad at me, it would make my apologizing to you much easier,” Gray scrambles to say after a moment of silence has passed between them.

Natsu tilts his head to the side and inhales, tasting the nerves and fright swirling around the edges of Gray’s scent. He exhales heavily, sitting down slowly on the bed beside Gray.

He leans back and lies down, keeping his eyes on the ceiling and not the man who should have been home with him these past few days. “I’m not mad.”

Gray twists at the waist to stare at him, his shoulders a stiff line that Natsu isn’t sure he has permission to soothe just yet. “Lying won’t help.”

“I’m not mad,” Natsu repeats, relaxing as their scents begin to blend together. “I’m worried about you. You scared me back there when you were going to sacrifice yourself to restrain Lyon. You knew by doing it your way you were going to end your life and yet you tried anyway.”

The silence that befalls them then is deafening. It goes on long enough that Natsu wonders if he should be angry after all. After a few seconds of contemplation though, he decides that anger would not help him right now and waits patiently for Gray to say something.

However, the longer the silence continues, the less likely Natsu believes that to be. Gray isn’t known for talking about feelings. Not just his own, but discussing feelings in general always gives his face a pinched quality that Natsu can’t help but laugh at sometimes.

He isn’t laughing now.

“You remember what I said when I asked you if we could find a place together, right?” Natsu asks once he is certain Gray won’t say anything without more prompting.

Natsu sees Gray’s nod in the corner of his eye and grins up at the ceiling as he thinks of the memory. Gray’s eyes had gone wide with surprise, his scent expanding with the force of it and appealing to Natsu so much he barely realized how close he had been getting until Gray pushed him back with a hand on his bare chest. Natsu had leaned in again to bury his nose in Gray’s neck anyway and gulp down lungfuls of his scent, smiling as Gray threaded his fingers through his hair and asked him why.

“I told you that you were the first in the guild to be added to my hoard when we were children. That I would want you near almost always and would despise every moment that we were apart,” Natsu recalls, his smile softer at the edges now. “I told you I fell in love with you when we were teenagers and that I would like to make you my mate in the future and you accepted.”

Natsu waits again, just to see if Gray will say anything at all before he uses his last-ditch effort. “How am I going to make you my mate if you’re not there for the future?”

Gray makes a sound as if Natsu has just kicked all the air out of his chest. They have fought and sparred enough times for Natsu to know what that actually sounds like so when Gray wheezes, he sits up quickly. He reaches out and takes Gray’s hands, biting his lip as the man who is his opposite in almost everything finally begins to cry.

Natsu moves closer until he can wrap his arms around Gray, tucking his head under Natsu’s chin as he shakes. His breath hitches but Natsu only clutches him tighter, holding him securely in his arms even as Gray somehow migrates to his lap. Natsu doesn’t mind that, he just holds on and waits.

Eventually, Gray’s sobs begin to make sense. Most of what he is saying is a mantra of “I’m sorry”s and half-aborted “I didn’t mean to do that”s, but Natsu gets the gist. He shushes and rocks Gray in his arms, focusing on their scents instead of the urge to cry with his mate.

When the worst of Gray’s tears have dried up, Natsu kisses the side of his head and pulls back far enough for their gazes to meet. Gray’s eyes are red-rimmed and puffy but he isn’t avoiding Natsu’s gaze anymore and that’s definitely a start.

“I think what happened with Ur was only dragged back up at Galuna Island and you never really healed from it,” Natsu ponders aloud, tilting his head in silent question and continuing when Gray nods tiredly. “She raised you like Igneel raised me and we’ve never gotten over suddenly losing them. Have we?”

Gray has to clear his throat twice before he says, “I don’t think we’ll ever be over that.”

“No,” Natsu agrees. “We won’t.”

“I should talk to someone,” Gray murmurs, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement when Natsu raises an unimpressed brow at him. “A professional. Mirajane has been saying I should talk to the Good Doctor who helped Elfman after…”

Natsu smiles bitterly in response. Elfman was not the only one who had to talk to the Good Doctor after Lisanna died after all. Gray knows about this, of course, but Natsu had never strived to convince him of talking to the Good Doctor until now.

“I can let them know at my next session to expect an inquiry from you?” Natsu suggests.

Gray nods, leaning in quickly to press a kiss to Natsu’s cheek. “I’m still sorry. I just didn’t know how to fix things back on Galuna Island.”

Natsu nods but knows without seeing that his smile is not as bright anymore. “I think you just have to remember that you’re not alone anymore. Neither of us is and I’ll always have your back. We’re Fairy Tail members and you’re the one who I want to spend the rest of my life with. I want us both to have long futures ahead of us.”

Gray’s cheeks flush a light pink, his scent curling with both embarrassment and quiet joy. “It will be hard, but I’ll try. If not for me or for you, then for Ur. For the life she gave me by giving up her own.”

“For Ur and Igneel,” Natsu agrees. “May they look upon us and see us happy. Together.”

“Together,” Gray assures him before he leans in and their lips meet in a soft kiss.

a/n: i forgot to post this when i first posted it on ao3, but i hope you all like this! this was written for icewhisper as part of the secret snipers exchange 2020!

#gratsu #gray x natsu #natsu x gray #fairy tail #ft #oneshot #f:ft #g:angst #g:fluff #t:oneshot #p:gray/natsu #tlfu #m: fic

[lcving-ateez]

You’d never know ♡

Plot: Your best friend had always cared about you but after an especially hard day, while he wants to show that even more, an upset you wants nothing more than to be alone. A heated argument brings the two closer than you'd ever imagined.

Word count: 1,979

Extras!: The first half is a bit of a Snapchat AU and the second half is in normal paragraphs.

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞 sent a snap!

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: so you are ignoring me

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: it shows that you're opening my messages

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: seriously?

Me: Mingi leave me alone please

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: can I have an explanation as to why my best friend cried in the library

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: didn't come to two of her lectures

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: totally ignored me on our lunch break

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞 is typing...

Me: yeah I get it

Me: I'm sorry okay?

Me: I'm a horrible person, happy now?

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: oh shut up you know I didn't mean it like that

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: what's up with you?

Me: nothing

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: that works on school counselors and parents

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: not the boy you've known since the second grade

Me: well maybe it's no-ones business genius. Can you not just accept that???

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: right then, I'm sorry for caring?

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: But go ahead and tell Yoosung since apparently your boyfriend of like three months is more important

Me: he is the problem

Me: Gi he broke up with me

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: no

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: this had better be a joke

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: he did what????

Me: he broke up with me Mingi

Me: he said I wasn't good enough

Me: that he dated me because he wanted to make his ex jealous

Me: it worked and now...

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: Y/N

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: he is in no way allowed to talk to you like that wtf

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: he's nothing compared to you, do you even know how perfect you are

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞 is typing...

Me: you don't have to say anything to make me feel better

Me: Idk who I was, thinking someone so far out of my league would ever want me in the first place

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: dont you dare beat yourself up because that asshole doesn't know how to act

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: how did it happen?

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: I'm so so sorry

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: I should've asked you nicer, I should've known you were hurting and I shouldn't have spoke to you the way I did earlier

Me: well I asked why he didn't come outside when we went to pick him up this morning

Me: he told me he 'wouldn't be caught dead in that piece of shit car your dumb-ass Mingi ever so proudly drags around'

Me: and then I told him not to talk about you like that

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: what kind of guy has that little self respect?

Me: then he told me about the whole ex thing and said what losers we both are and

Me: I just feel so stupid

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: Don't?? You're the smartest funniest prettiest girl I know

Me: you're just saying that because you feel like you need to right now

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: why on earth would I 'need' to say anything?

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: Y/N I don't bullshit when it's serious like this

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: I knew he was no good

Me: are you really playing the I knew it card right now????

Me: also why wouldn't you tell me then?

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: uh because you were happy??

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: I didn't want to ruin that for you

Me: I'm so done with guys

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: bit dramatic don't you think?

Me: let's just not talk about him

Me: I just stopped crying

Me: one more tear and I'll die of dehydration

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: you deserve better you know?

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: your first boyfriend was meant to be special and perfect for you

Me: well jokes on you minki

Me: he wasn't 🥵

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: I'm serioussss :(  you deserve someone who suits you and makes you happy

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: cute height difference

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: knows your favorite foods

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: knows your favorite memes

Me: if only such a guy existed

Me: and no one like that would be interested in me lol

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: YOURE SO SLOW

Me: awe aren't you lovely? 😘

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: Y/N L/N I COULDN'T BE ANY BLUNTER

Me: I told you I'm stupid 🤷🏻‍♀️

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: eye-

Me: 🥰🥰🥰

Me: Mingiiiiiiiii did I offend youuuu?

Me: open my messages rat

Me: don't be sad 😔🤠

Me: Minmin I love youuuUU

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: Look outside dipshit

Me: am I gonna see a spooky clown 😱😱🤪

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: IM FREEZING THIS ISNT THE TIME TO BE MESSING AROUND

Me: WHY THE HELL ARE YOU STANDING ON MY LAWN SONG?!?!?!?!

Princess minki 🧚🏻‍♀️💞: L/N LET ME IN THESE TROUSERS ARE PAPER THIN

      

     You turned off your phone and rushed down the stairs, quickly unlocking the door. Mingi's soft brown hair covered his eyes in a messy mop; evidence of him jumping out of bed to come see you. He rubbed his hands feverishly up and down his biceps in an attempt to generate warmth.

"Extra ass" you sighed, yanking him by the shoulder into your house. Once he was inside and you'd locked the door again, you turned to him angrily.

"Why are you here? Mingi I told you I’m over him. I’m fine”

"Bold of you to assume I'm here to talk about that jackass" He huffed walking right past you and into the kitchen, fully knowing you'd follow him. You stomped behind him waiting to see what he'd do next.

Mingi ran his hands through his fringe while he opened the fridge, scanning its shelves for something to drink. Although you were a lot less emotional than you were this morning; today had been a lot and you weren't in the mood to speak to anyone, not even your best friend.

"Can you leave? I'll see you at uni tomorrow" you whined as he picked out an apple juice box and pulled the straw from it, totally ignoring you in the process.

"I'm serious, I don't want to see anyone. My parents are out for a while and this is the only time I get alone" The boy shut the fridge door and turned to you, leaning on his forearms against the granite countertop. It was awkward when he looked at you, holding eye contact as he slipped the straw between his lips, staring down at you condescendingly.

His expression was an uncanny blend of amused and standoffish. His brows were perked up and his eyes were blank in a way that seemed to challenge you without saying a word.

Go ahead, get mad. I dare you

And oh boy, did that piss you off.

   "I'm sorry did I say you could come in and open my fridge?" you asked leaving a pause for him to answer while you organized your angry thoughts; you weren't actually that mad about him taking a single juice box, it was more like the straw that broke the camel's back. Mingi simply shook his head, just waiting for you to go off.

"Then can you maybe have a single ounce of respect and ask before you come over for once?! God, guys are all the same you're so- so selfish and rude! I said I wanted to be alone today and you couldn't respect that, you didn't even try to comfort me or talk like a normal person!" Your rant was cut short as loud slurps irritated your thought process. He was stood there crushing the small carton, squeezing every last drop into his mouth before tossing it into the bin to his left.

Your head felt like it would explode into a million little pieces right then and there. His cold nature had you right on the verge of breaking out into tears of fury.

"Are you really that childish? Knock it off right now, Mingi. I've had one of the worst days of my life and I just- I just need to let it pass right now. You're not helping by being such a fu-" your voice was breaking and tears were unknowingly streaming down your cheek, but a sudden action surprised you enough to bring them to a sudden halt.

Mingi hated seeing you so mad but he knew you needed to let it out somewhere, and if he had to be your vessel then so be it; When he saw you start crying though, everything single brain cell in his head thought of how he could fix this. And being the quick - totally irrational - thinker he is, all Mingi could think of was to kissing you.

And kiss you he did.

As soon as he pushed off the counter his hand found the back of your neck like a magnet to metal. His grip was strong enough to show you how desperate he was but gentle enough to show you he meant no harm. His lips connected to yours in the blink of an eye while his other arm found its way around your waist, holding your much smaller frame tightly against his.

His lips moved slowly against your own, the feeling of electricity rushed through your veins as you melted wholly into the kiss, feeling loved and warm for the first time today. His plump lips were colder than yours from being outside and tasted faintly of the drink he'd had moments earlier, as you moved your head to the side the fruity smell engulfed you.

You could definitely get used to this.

With his fingers running a final stroke through your hair, Mingi pulled away gently as if asking for permission to do so. You complied and took a step back breaking away from his warmth as you ached for more. A satisfied smile graced his face, you'd never know how long he'd been waiting to do that.

Your mind was blank and the room was dead silent for far too long as you stood there, trying to process what had happened and trying to calm the furious red shade consuming your cheeks. Mingi broke this silence by laughing after he licked his lips. It started as a light giggle but quickly turned into a painful wheeze.

"W-what?" You asked, quite frankly seeing that smile on his face brought one to your own, his laugh was contagious.

"For a sad girl, you’re still so extra. Are you really wearing cherry flavored lip balm?" He continued to laugh, licking the glossy remnants off of his lips; you could've sworn your heart had stopped.

"’Min, that's gross! You can't do that!"

"But it tastes good" he frowened like a lost puppy, suddenly all was forgiven

"What are you doing to me?" Your head was clouded with far too many emotions to work normally so you thought out loud, hoping he'd have an answer.

"Hopefully cheering you up a little?"

"Song Mingi stop it right now! Can you just not mess with me like this? If you like me you can say so just don't if you...don't" your words wouldn't have made sense to anyone sane, but Mingi wasn't anyone; and he sure as hell wasn't sane. Your mum had always told you that guys only want one thing and it stuck with you, but He wasn't like that; your whole being wanted to believe Mingi wasn't like that.

"I would never hurt you Y/N. I wouldn't kiss you like that if I didn't mean it" He didn't need you to ask what he meant, years of friendship meant he could read your expression like an open book.

"I really really like you Y/N. God it feels good to say that. So I've like, liked you this way since freshman year but you've always treated me like a little brother - even though I'm a billion times taller than you - and I didn't think you'd want to date me anyways" Mingi kept that childish glint in his eyes as his hand rubbed the nape of his neck, waiting with baited breath for you to say anything, anything at all.

"Well you know, you could've said something because I thought you had a thing for Yunho" You snickered walking over to trap him against the countertop, your arms either side of him.

"You- That's kinda fair though. Yunho is a fine piece of ass. But what do you say?"

And just like that the words you never thought you'd hear from your previous best-friend left his lips

"You gonna be my girlfriend, L/N?"

"I might just, Song”

Happy Mingi Day xx

#t:mi #t:oneshot #Hey hey my second full oneshot! #i hope yall liked this! #song mingi fluff #song mingi fic #song mingi oneshot #ateez mingi fluff #ateez mingi fic #ateez mingi oneshot #ateez mingi #ateez song mingi #ateez fluff #ateez fic #ateez oneshot #smg

[sugaurora]

A Ghost Cat Sits on My Bed Every Night

From Reddit’s No Sleep Page:

A Ghost Cat Sits on My Bed Every Night

This isn’t kpop related, it’s just a very well written-story I enjoyed and wanted to share.

#notkpop #ficrecs #g:horror #t:oneshot #wc:<2000

[shineefics]

Kibum and Minho can't stand each other. Kibum is the openly pansexual star dancer at school and Minho is the captain of the soccer team and a preacher's son to boot. It seems like it's in their blood to butt heads, but all that passion must be good for something else, right? Pairing: minkey Chapters: 1 Rated: r Completed: yes

#minkeys #ficrec #minkey #a:au #t:oneshot #r:rated #g:smut

[thestuckyarchive]

Natasha comes home with intel regarding the fate of the Winter Soldier; Steve leaves to go and avenge Bucky Barnes.

  “It's a list of everyone who was involved in his death, and a rough timeline of everything that happened beforehand,” she tells him.

“And the notebook?”

“I explained what they did,” Natasha says, “The blank pages are for you to explain what you do to them.”

#stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #t:oneshot #t:5to10k #t:comp #t:m #t:angst #t:dsteve #t:h/c #t:steeb

[thekimlinenet]

Welcome to our tagging system! Listed below you’ll find some examples of the categories we’ll use to tag content. 

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↳ f:url

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↳ c:fic, c:gfx, c:gifs, c:edit, c:fanart, c:layout, c:moodboard

genre

↳ g:angst, g:romance, g:action

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au

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↳ p:mxr, p:mxm

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trigger warning

↳ tw:(insert trigger), tw:(insert mentions of trigger)

DISCLAIMER: This tagging system was created by one of our admins and is for thekimlinenet only. This tagging system if uniquely ours and if you wish to use it then  you must give us credit.

#p:tagging system

[oscarwillds]

Untitled #001

Author's Note: Okay so I really loved this story when i was writing it. I don't know why I never carried it on. I think i just left it too long and by the time I was ready to write again, I wasn't inspired by this. I might come back to it someday though, who knows? Although I'd almost definitely rewrite this chapter if I did - there are lots of things I really don't like about it, but alas.

It was a grey drizzling Wednesday, the type of day that the people of Lettersfield were more than used to. A thin layer of perspiration hung in the air and clung to the shirts and skin of the Graystone Prep boys as they spilled out of the school’s front doors and into the large front courtyard. The road directly in front of the school was already full of shiny black cars, the shimmer of the sun hitting the raindrops on their windscreens making the road look like it was full of dancing lights.

Hidden in the sea of black, an old faded grey car was attempting to make its way to the other side of the road. The driver, a young woman in her early twenties, was not even attempting to hide her frustration over the road block. In between long, frustrated drags from her cigarette, she was making various hand gestures at the cars as she dodged past them, occasionally yelling out blasphemous phrases at the top of her lungs. Nobody seemed to take much notice of her – to the students of Graystone Prep and their drivers, she was a commonly known figure, and in fact many of the boys had commented that school didn’t really feel over for the day until they’d heard her angry screams flooding the courtyard.

In the far back right of the courtyard, the furthest spot from the road that could be accessed after school hours, sat five teenage boys. At first, they looked almost identical, their simple uniform and smart hairstyles making the five figures almost blend into one. They sat in a line on a short brick wall as they each loosened their ties and untucked their shirts. Four of the five were semi-consciously discussing their days, most of which they had shared anyway, and so there really wasn’t that much to discuss. The fifth – the boy on the far left of the line – was not interested in discussing such mundane things, and was instead fiddling with the strap of the watch on his wrist and gazing dazedly at the bleak grey sky above. Somewhere deep inside his mind was the face of his history professor, and he was absent-mindedly imagining tracing his soft features with a finger.

He was snapped out of his daydream by the jab of an elbow in his stomach. The shock of it made him jump and choke a little on his own saliva, which had been building up in the back of his mouth. He turned around to his friends and, with an anger that almost as impressive as that of the Grey Car Fury, he asked, “What the fuck was that for?”

As always, it was George who spoke back. George was always the first one to speak. He was always the first one to do anything really. Sitting in the centre of the line, two boys on either side of him, he was very obviously the pack leader, a position he had chosen and one that he enjoyed thoroughly. He rolled his eyes at the anger in his friend’s voice and jumped up off the wall, swinging his backpack over his shoulder and spinning on his heel in one fluid motion so that he was now facing the other four boys.

“Alright then Tom,” he said casually, a smug look resting on his face, as always, “we’ll leave without you then. You can walk home, if that’s what you want.”

The other boys laughed, and even Tom felt a small smile twitch at the edges of his lips. It was impossible not to respond to George. He may only have been seventeen, but he was powerful in a way that even most grown men weren’t. Maybe it was his accent – a perfect British accent, each syllable pronounced so clearly – or maybe it was the confidence, the way you were expected to listen and to obey. This was a boy who had never been defied or denied, and it was clear in the way he held and presented himself, and it was undeniably intoxicating to be around. If Tom didn’t know any better, he’d say that George was almost magical in the way he commanded respect from everyone around him. Even some of the professors crumbled in his presence.

Tom didn’t say anything in response to the jeer, and instead just followed his friends as they each in turn jumped off the bench and shrugged on their backpacks, none of them pulling it off quite as smoothly as George had been able to. They soon all went back to ignoring him anyway, and that was okay. In fact, it was welcome. Tom was quite regularly shoved to the back of the group, quiet and often caught up in his own thoughts, he was easy to forget about. All the boys had their ‘roles’ though, and that was Tom’s, and it was one he was happy with.

#t:oneshot #s:unfinished #n:untitled001

[enhypenwriters]

🛑 Warning 18+ Content 🛑

Read at own choice

Member: Heeseung

#nyanggk writes #m:heeseung #g:18+ #t:oneshot

[chilligyu]

info: lee jihoon/gender neutral reader, pg, best friends to lovers au genre: fluff, romance | word ct: 5.5k warnings: none summary: when it came to love, no one was prepared. not even jihoon, who could spend hours turning words into magic, especially when love was mysteriously delivered in the form of a letter to his locker. note: heavily inspired by to all the boys I've loved before, but with a twist! no love triangles or anything like that, so just enjoy awkward people falling in love! and thank you to @dreamystuffers and @starlightjoong for taking a sneak peek and telling me what you think!

tagging: @xfirebenderx, @moriiyun, @ohmygoshcheese, @gyu-log

Lee Jihoon, a genius in many ways, was never good when it came to words. At least, not the spoken kind. The kind that you had to think up on the spot, responses, answers, comebacks, small talk, he was absolutely terrible at it. But if you gave him the time to think, to really dwell on his thoughts, he could create something truly beautiful. Which was why he preferred to express his feelings with letters. And while, yes, he could pen something magnificent, the next great classic novel perhaps, he typically kept his messages short and to the point. Much like the man himself.

There was one time that he wrote a “letter” that was simply—

F U C K Y O U

—printed out on seven separate sheets of paper and taped to a row of lockers. All in response to a teacher confiscating his iPod. No one could prove it was him, though, and nothing happened in response to it. He never admitted to his crimes, and despite it being painfully obvious who the author of the message was, there was no hard proof pointing to the culprit. It became the most well-known secret at their high school. And Lee Jihoon became somewhat of a living legend because of it.

The only one who knew the truth was you. His best friend. You were his go-to when it came to proof reading all of his letters. He was the writer, you were the editor. Half the time you were also a berating parent, chastising him for trying to assault people with words. Which was also why, more often than not, his letters never got sent. He would sit in his room for hours, writing letters that were either half the length of novels or only a few sentences long, and after giving it over to be edited, it would get tucked away in his desk drawer. Never to be seen or heard from again.

See, Jihoon was an emotional person. Not in the sense that most people would assume, he didn’t get offended easily, one mean comment wouldn’t leave him crying, he was simply—emotional. Whatever he was feeling, whether it be good or bad, it was powerful, sometimes overwhelming. So instead of erupting like a hormonal volcano, which he had already done plenty of, he put his emotions to paper. At the behest of his aforementioned best friend.

“You can’t go around yelling at people.” You began one afternoon just after entering high school. “Even if you’re writing it down, you’re still yelling at people.”

Jihoon, the definition of “hard to read”, was visibly pouting. “You’re the one who told me to write down how I feel. Now I can’t even send these to anyone?”

“I mean, you can.” You backpedalled. “I’m not your mother, despite Seokmin’s insistence. I can’t stop you from doing anything you’ve set your heart to. All I can do is advise you not to because you’re going to have a terrible few years here if everyone hates you.”

He clearly wasn’t thrilled by your logical response, but he admitted defeat anyway. “Fine. Don’t send the letters that I write. I get it. No one wants to read them.”

You groaned loudly. “You are so dramatic. I’m saying don’t send the literal hate mail to people. Don’t send the stuff you write to vent out your feelings. But if there’s something you want to say to someone, something that you can’t bring yourself to say out loud, by all means! Send the thing! I know you loathe the idea of talking to people, you also hate being misunderstood more.”

He also hated how well you knew him, not that he would ever say that out loud.

That was also something he wrote down in a letter, one he decided to send.

You crumpled it up immediately and threw it back at his face.

“Letters are powerful things, Jihoon.” You added. “They can break hearts, mend souls, and change lives with nothing more than words. Because words mean so many different things to so many different people. You just gotta say the right ones.”

At first, he was only humoring you. Honestly, he thought you completely senile until he gave it a shot. After spending hours hunched over his desk writing things no one else would see, he was starting to realize that maybe you had a point. Instead of roaming the halls shouting obscenities in his head, he was able to reassure himself by knowing he could write about it later. Even the smallest grievance, he would write it down. He would sometimes scribble it down on the margin of a textbook if he was feeling particularly overwhelmed in the middle of the day.

The letters became his therapy, his outlet, eventually he could stroll past some annoying upperclassmen and not feel rage coursing through his veins. It was—nice, almost. Not being subjected to his own hectic imagination at every turn. Feeling at peace for the first time in what felt like ages.

Until he found a letter in his locker, one addressed to him during his senior year. From a secret admirer. The contents of which would be seared into his memory for the remainder of time.

Lee Jihoon, it began.

I have never been able to tell you how I feel, in person or in a letter. For several months now, I’ve tried. I’ve tried to write letters like you for so long, and I just can’t get the words right. I don’t know how you do it. So I’m going to do something different. I’m going to stop being scared. If you meet me in the courtyard after school, I’m going to be brave for the first time in my life. Please help me be brave, Jihoon.

Again and again, he read that short letter. Practically baffled that someone out there wrote an honest-to-god letter that was addressed to an honest-to-god person. And that he wasn’t the writer, that he was the recipient. The thought alone made his heart race, and to comprehend that this secret admirer perhaps harbored feelings towards him? It was next to impossible. But no one writes a letter without true emotion behind it. That’s a fact he was coming to understand.

“I need you to come with me.” He told you after showing you the letter. “I’m—I’m not sure I can do this alone.”

You rolled your eyes. “Jihoon, obviously this person doesn’t want to make a public event out of their confession. You should really do this without me.”

“I know, and I’m not asking you to stand at my side or anything.” He reiterated. “Can you like—stand in a bush or something? If I know that you’re there I won’t feel the need to—"

“Did you just ask me to stand in a bush?” You guffawed. “You did not just ask me to stand in a bush Lee Jihoon because if you did then you’re about to get your ass kicked into next year!”

“I didn’t mean literally!” He quickly denied when he did, in fact, mean it literally. “Just—stand around the corner, okay? Be my moral support!”

Pursing your lips, you knew that there was no getting out of this. “Alright, fine. I’ll come with you. But I’m not happy about it.”

“I’ll pay you back, I promise.” He swore. “Have I ever told you that you’re the best?”

A smirk teased at your lips. “You could mention it more.”

“Consider it done.” Jihoon grinned, gathering up his things and heading for the door. “Don’t forget! After school! Courtyard! Don’t be late!”

Once he was gone and you were completely alone, your face fell in disappointment. “I wouldn’t dream of it…”

By the time that school was finally over for the day, Jihoon was a bundle of overactive nerves. He was excited and terrified and anxious and nauseous all at once. The bombarding sensations kept him cemented in place, gripping the edge of his desk until his knuckles were about to burst through. He had been like that for the entirety of their last class, still as a statue as a cold sweat broke out across his brow. You were standing in front of him, head tilted and wondering what he was planning to do next.

“Class is over.” You reminded him. “Everyone’s left.”

Very slowly, he nodded. “Y-yeah. I can see that.”

His voice sounded as if it had been completely stripped down. Like he had screamed himself hoarse by saying those few words.

“Your secret admirer is probably waiting.” You tried to spur him. “We should get going before I change my mind and head home.”

He audibly swallowed past a lump in his throat. “Well—maybe that’s best. Yeah, I can wait until tomorrow.”

You eyed him incredulously. “You’re going to stay here until tomorrow. You’re insane, get up.”

“I’d rather not.”

“And I’d rather not grow old and die here.” You countered. “C’mon, Jihoon. Your admirer asked you to help them be brave, how exactly is this helping them?”

He had to admit, you had a point. If they were brave enough to put their feelings out there, he had to at least meet them half way.

Sighing loudly, he started to pry his fingers off his desk. “Alright, fine. We’ll do things your way.”

You rolled your eyes for perhaps the hundredth time. “You’re absolutely insufferable. Why do I hang out with you?”

“Because I’m funny.” He said with the most serious face in the world.

Which actually made you laugh.

“I hate you.” You chuckled. “C’mon, let’s get going while we’re still young.”

Jihoon inhaled and exhaled deeply to calm himself down.

This is just the beginning.

Except—it wasn’t.

He stood in the courtyard, seemingly alone, with the note that brought him there clutched tight in his hand. As his moral support you were keeping your distance, as promised, but no one else joined you. Minutes passed and he did his best to remain hopeful. It was hard, especially when a familiar voice nagged at the back of his mind. The same one he struggled with every day to ignore.

No one would ever like you, so why did you bother thinking otherwise?

While the negative thoughts slowly took over, Jihoon didn’t know what to do next. He was defeated, almost destroyed. And even though you walked up behind him and took his hand in yours, it did little to stop the bitter tears from welling in his eyes.

“I should’ve known…” He whispered angrily. “This was all just—a joke. It’s always a joke. Who could ever like me?”

“Stop it, Jihoon.” You hissed at him, squeezing his hand tighter. “They said they were scared, maybe they couldn’t follow through with it. Maybe they were afraid of being rejected. You never know what’s going through someone’s head. Don’t beat yourself up, okay?”

Nothing you said was going to make him feel better. He quickly wrenched himself from your grip and backed away from you.

“I’m going home.” He clipped. “Bye.”

Before he left, he made sure to crumple up the note and toss it at your feet. When his heart was broken, he wore it on his sleeve. You understood what Jihoon was feeling, he had been living with an extremely low self esteem due to his height and his general inability to make friends for as long as you knew him. He was quiet, shy, reserved, he was slow to open up to others and hesitant to trust. That’s why you tried to be excited for him, and now that things hadn’t gone as planned in more ways than one your heart ached just like his.

The next day, Jihoon strolled into class like a drunk zombie. By the looks of him, he hadn’t slept a wink. Too busy being destroyed by his own thoughts to bother with anything like sustenance or sleep. He took up his seat beside you, and you immediately shoved your desk into his.

“Still upset?” You asked, even though you already knew the answer.

Sluggishly he lifted his head up and then quickly dropped it back down.

It was worse than you thought.

“Are you going to talk to me today?” You teased in an attempt to get a reaction. “Or am I going to have to go bother Hansol?”

Grumbling slightly, the barely responsive mass that was your best friend raised his hand and dropped a crumpled wad of paper on your desk. At first, you assumed it was just another one of his letters. They weren’t uncommon when he was feeling—unwell.

But it was another note from his secret admirer.

You were startled because he didn’t usually stop at his locker in the morning.

Lee Jihoon, it started similarly.

I’m sorry for not showing up yesterday, I was scared. I couldn’t bring myself to face you, please don’t be mad at me. I’d like to keep writing you letters, if that’s okay. Let’s get to know each other and maybe one day I can be brave again.

Once you were finished reading, you immediately began analyzing Jihoon’s face again. You had never seen him look like this before, completely vacant. While he was hard to read to the entire world, he was always an open book to you. Now reading him was nearly impossible even with your expertise.

“What are you gonna do?”

He shrugged lazily. “I don’t know. Sit here for the rest of eternity. Wait for the soft embrace of death.”

“Jihoon.” You exasperated. “We both know you’re not actually going to do that.”

Except he actually might and you actually couldn’t take that chance.

“Are you going to write them a letter?” You tried, again. “Maybe that will work out better.”

“I already did.” He murmured. “I don’t think they want to read it though.”

“Jesus Christ…” You groaned loudly, taking Jihoon’s face in your hands and looking him dead in his lifeless eyes. “They still like you, they’re scared and human like the rest of us, it is not the end of the world! Give them another chance and stop being such a goddamn drama queen!”

Silence. Pure unadulterated and perfectly aggravating silence.

“Alright, you leave me no choice. I’m bringing out the big guns.”

Being careful to keep an eye on the teacher, you pulled out your phone and started texting Jihoon’s mother. According to your message, you and Jihoon were going to be studying late at the library, and he would probably need to spend the night at your house. Which wasn’t a complete lie, maybe you would get some studying done. But, in all honesty, you had other things in mind.

“Take your pick.” You instructed, a box set in each hand. “Descendants of the Sun, or Record of Youth.”

Immediately after school, you dragged your best friend to your house and sat him down in front of the TV. Your parents didn’t even question it when you told them this intervention was a matter of life and death, that the patient might need to be admitted for the night. They simply let you do what needed to be done.

Jihoon, who had been relatively catatonic for the past 24 hours, finally showed a glimmer of something. He gave the slightest suggestion of a nod towards Descendants of the Sun and you happily popped in the first disk. As you claimed a spot beside him, popcorn and banana milk in tow, he naturally relaxed against you. You were the only person who got to see him unguarded like that, the only person he himself would allow. And while he was typically someone who kept his true self hidden from the world, there was a part of him that would forever belong only to you.

“Thanks.” He practically whispered, resting his head on your shoulder. “I—I needed this.”

“I know.” You smiled. “Are you ready to talk yet?”

He sighed heavily. “No. Not really. I still have a lot of thinking to do.”

“Well, if you need help thinking you know where I’ll be.” You offered without wanting to seem pushy.

If you weren’t mistaken, you could’ve sworn he actually chuckled.

“Yeah. I do.”

Little by little, your best friend was slowly returning to normal—or as close to normal as you’ve ever seen him. Eventually he started getting sucked into the drama, going rigid when things got tense, and actively pretended he wasn’t crying whenever You Are My Everything played. It was, overall, a job well done. You could sleep easy knowing that Jihoon would be just fine. As you drifted off, you felt him hold your hand and squeeze it gently.

Everything was going to be okay.

And if only to prove that point, the next day was nothing like the one before. Jihoon was back to his old self as if nothing had happened at all. Just another Thursday without a word or whisper about the chaotic tornado his secret admirer had unleashed onto your day-to-day life. He even had a letter for you to read by the time lunch rolled around. Apparently, some freshman irritated him over something seemingly small. At least—to you it seemed barely worth mentioning. But nothing ever really felt small to Jihoon. It was all or nothing, always living in black and white. Which meant that almost everything was important to him in some way. So you read the letter, and you edited it gladly.

Once you were done, he had something else for you. Another note from the admirer.

“This is the third one, right?” You murmured, glancing it over once before looking up at him. “Have you written back yet? Besides the one where I assumed you insulted their very existence with your entire arsenal of hurtful words.”

The blush crawling up his neck was an answer in and of itself, but the thick stack of paper he pulled out of his backpack solidified it.

“I’ve tried a few times.” He admitted hesitantly. “Nothing I write is good enough.”

“Oh, only a few times?” You teased, knowing full well that Jihoon’s definition of a few was the same as calling Jane Eyre a short shopping list. “What’s got you so stuck? Usually you have no issues penning essays over trivial things like cracks in the sidewalk.”

His brow furrowed defiantly. “Hey, proper sidewalk and road maintenance is important to modern infrastructure. If we start overlooking cracks in the pavement, then what? What about traffic lights? Can we afford to allow a single bulb to go out? No, of course not. That’s anarchy.”

You couldn’t believe your ears.

“Jihoon…” You started with an exasperated look. “I was joking.”

Trying to hide the fact that his blush was turning a deep crimson, and failing quite miserably, he pulled a paper from the stack and put it back in his bag. Also something he tried, and failed, to hide from you.

“Are you kidding me!” You laughed, raking a hand down your face. “Did you seriously have a letter in that pile you were going to send to our congressman?”

“No—yes—ugh!” He groaned. “Can we forget about the stupid sidewalk for a second! That’s not important right now! Help me! How do I do this?”

Deciding you had teased your best friend enough, you placed your chin in your hand and smiled at him. “How do you do what, exactly? I’ve never had anything to do with the letters you write, I just read them so someone knows how you’re feeling.”

Who were you kidding, you could never tease Jihoon enough.

He rolled his eyes so hard that he rolled his whole head with them. “Like you’ve ever needed further insight into my head, you always know what I’m thinking before I do.”

True.

“But I don’t understand the first thing about—this.” He finished with a labored sigh, gesturing sharply to the handwritten novel in front of him. “You know that better than anyone.”

Again, he was telling the truth. In the years you had known Jihoon he had never developed serious feelings towards someone else. He had barely entertained the notion since entering high school. He always talked himself out of it because feelings were complicated and bothersome. Plus, he was terrified of being rejected. Like most people are. His intrusive thoughts just so happened to be louder than most.

“I hate to break it to you, Jihoon,” You started in a whisper, “no one knows the first thing about this. Not even me. The only person who can help you is yourself.”

His sour expression made it obvious that he obviously didn’t like your response. “Great. Super helpful. Thank you for your continued wisdom.”

When he moved away from you, you grabbed him by the sweater and pulled him back in. “Why do you always stop listening to me when I’m about to make my point?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Because it takes you forever to fucking get there.”

“Alright, you got me there.” You chuckled. “Listen, I’m not kidding when I say that you’ve got to do this one on your own. As much as I can usually sense what feelings are doing somersaults in your stomach, this is a first for you and therefore a first for me. I’ve never seen you like this before, so unfortunately you’ve got to discover this one on your own.”

As you spoke, his features slowly softened until all that remained was a very nervous teenager who didn’t want to screw up his first real chance at love. That’s all Jihoon was at his core, that’s all anyone was.

But you had to admit he almost looked kind of cute.

Almost.

“How do you always know what to say?” He grumbled while crossing his arms. “It’s annoying.”

“You’ve got a really weird way of saying thank you.” You smirked playfully. “Well, maybe this last nugget of advice will get you started in the right direction.”

“Why are you always—” He seethed through his teeth. “How are you still not at whatever your point is!”

You shrugged, because you honestly had no clue. “I'll get there when I get there. You want to hear it or not—”

“Spit. It. Out.”

“Now is that anyway to—”

Wow. You stopped, suddenly fearing for your measly life. If looks could kill—

“Alright, alright, you win.” You conceded. “If you’re having issues writing a letter to your secret admirer, here’s my advice. Stop trying to put words to your feelings and start putting feelings into words. You’re spending too much time trying to say it perfectly that you’re not saying it at all. It doesn’t need to make sense to anyone else, it doesn’t even need to make sense to you. So long as you put them out into the world, they’ll be heard and one day they’ll be understood. You get me?”

The look on his face was—strange. You had a hard time placing it, which should’ve been weirder than it was. In fact, you were seeing lots of different sides to Jihoon lately, sides you never thought existed. This time his eyes widened, the aforementioned scarlet blush had disappeared, and there was a radiance to him that you had never seen before. Like suddenly he could see clearly through the storm of his thoughts.

“Thank you.” He exhaled with a smile. “I’ve never thought about it like that before.”

Feeling triumphant, you wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I’m starting to wonder what you’d do without me, Jihoon. Three days and you’ve been completely undone and redone by this letter.”

“Letters are powerful things.” He muttered. “They can break hearts, mend souls, and change lives. You taught me that.”

“I guess I’m a pretty good teacher.” You boasted, giving him a squeeze. “Despite the fact that I’m actually quite terrible with words.”

He shrugged off your arm. “Except you always know what to say, how exactly does that work?”

“Just because I can make you see reason doesn’t mean I’m good with words.” You laughed easily. “That simply means that I’ve perfected the art of understanding the impossible. Lee Jihoon. I can’t use words like you do. Trust me I’ve tried, I can never get the words right.”

For a moment, he didn’t have any sort of response. Which was definitely weird. It was a well-known fact that he was terrible with the sorts of words he had to speak, but he didn’t have issues when talking to you. That’s because you were friends, best friends. There had never been this sort of unnerving silence before. Not that you could remember, anyway.

What is going on in your head, Jihoon? You found yourself wondering since you couldn’t read his face. Have you started to figure it out?

“Sorry, I was thinking.” He muttered suddenly, shaking his head. “But I know what I need to write now. Will you read this one too? Even if it gets pretty long?”

“Of course!” You exclaimed with a smile. “When have I ever shied away from a challenge?”

The soft glisten in his eyes made your heart flutter.

“Never.”

When the bell rang and you parted ways, you wondered if Jihoon had ever written you a letter.

Well there’s a first time for everything.

For the next week, he was in full writer mode. And there were no more notes from his secret admirer, not that you expected there to be any. Every chance he got he was scribbling something down on whatever surface he could get his hands on. Textbooks, paper, his arm, he was more inspired than you’d ever seen before and nothing was going to stop him. He didn’t even come over to your house over the weekend, a ritual you hadn’t broken in the ten plus years you had known each other. It was a lonely week, for sure, but you knew it was for a good cause.

Then, after what felt like an eternity of silence, he approached you in the courtyard with a single sheet of paper in his hand.

“Hey…” He started uneasily, his grip tightening. “How’re you?”

Seriously? You mused to yourself with a smile. “I’m good, how’s the writing?”

“Done.” He clipped. “And—I think I covered everything.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, eyeing the sheet of paper. “With all of that writing I thought you’d have a novel for me.”

He shook his head, while a blush crawled up his neck. “Sometimes being concise is more effective than being overly wordy.”

“That’s true.” You grinned. “Easier for me to edit anyway.”

Nodding, he shoved the paper into your hand. “Here. Take your time, I don’t want you to rush it.”

“I won’t.” You promised, resisting the urge to start reading right away. “I know you put a lot of thought into this.”

With that, he turned around and walked off without another word. Leaving you holding something that looked like little more than pen ink on paper, but felt like a confession on fire. Once he was out of eyesight, you exhaled a breath you had been holding unintentionally and started reading.

To the person I have never loved before. It began, and you weren’t prepared for the roller coaster you had willingly climbed into.

This isn’t for the person I’ve loved all along, no. This is for you, someone who managed to stir my emotions more than a raging monsoon with only a few words and the hint of a promise. Who are you? I wondered to myself, because you were without equal. How could I have missed you? You were extraordinary. You didn’t have a face, all I had of you was a letter slipped into my locker, you were a ghost and I was set ablaze by your words. I had never felt like that before, my heart was unprepared. As was I. You made me question everything, and made me realize things I had never seen before.

What I felt for you wasn’t love, even though I thought it was at first. You presented me with feelings I decided I would never feel, so I could only assume that it was love. I felt like a live wire, ready to spark at a moment's notice. All I could think about was you. The infinite options and scenarios I dreamt up, all because of you, was astronomical. It was exhilarating, and I found myself drunk on the endless possibilities that you presented me. What else could make me feel that way, if it wasn’t love?

The answer was one I didn’t expect, and it hit me like a tsunami. I started to feel that way towards someone I already know. Someone who has cared for me more than anyone should, they have been my best friend for years so how could I suddenly feel the same way? How could my friendship for them become intertwined with the love I thought was solely reserved for you? And how could I have missed it after being enveloped by their warmth for so long?

You changed all of that. You made me see clearly for the first time in years and I was completely undone. Everything I knew was suddenly challenged, my feelings towards the most important person in my life changed without any warning, and I didn’t know what to do. How could I ask them, a friend, to see me as anything more? I was lost, trapped in an endless loop of destructive thoughts and desire. Desperately wanting to scream my feelings from the rooftop while fearing the voice that would have to put words to them. Your feelings for me awakened my feelings for them, and suddenly the words that have given me comfort for so long escaped me.

Still, you helped me.

In ways I can only thank with this letter.

You helped me because you are the one who told me to start writing letters. It’s always been you. You are the one who has given my thoughts meaning when I struggled to communicate with the world. One that could never understand someone like me. You are the one who wrote me a letter, asking a coward to help you be brave. It took me a while to realize that you were one and the same, but I picked up on the hints you left behind. I’m sorry it took me this long to figure it out.

Would you have showed up had I not asked you to come with me? I think about that often, were you only afraid because my initial thought was that there was no way it could be you? The impossible notion that my best friend could love me anymore than they already do? I have a thousand more questions I want to ask you, but I think I’m brave enough now to ask you in person.

So I’m going to end this letter here, because you deserve so much more than the words I’ve hidden behind for years. A letter I started to write for someone I thought I didn’t know, to the person I’ve never loved before. Funny, how it ended up being a letter to the person I’ve loved all along.

As you read the last line, tears already streaming down your face, you had never felt happier.

“You figured it out.” You whispered, almost in disbelief. “For a second there I thought you never would.”

You don’t know when Jihoon came back, but he was suddenly standing in front of you taking your hand in his. “It really shouldn’t have taken me that long, I’ve only seen your handwriting a thousand times before.”

Laughter bubbled past your lips as you dried your tears with your sleeve. “I was terrified that you would’ve figured me out from the very beginning. Looks like I really give you too much credit sometimes.”

“You do.” He agreed. “So, what did you think of the letter? Any edits you can think of?”

“This isn’t the type of letter that needs editing.” You stated plainly. “It would take away from the author’s meaning.”

“What would that be?” He asked, clearly teasing you. “Enlighten me.”

You shook your head defiantly. “No, no way. It’s your letter, why don’t you tell me what it’s supposed to mean?”

Part of him didn’t want to make it easy, that much you knew with absolute certainty. But, for the sake of time and your poor heart, he would let you off the hook. Just this once.

“That I love you.” He said softly. “More than anything else.”

Choking out a sob, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in close.

“I love you too, Jihoon.”

In the end, neither of you were good with words, but you only needed to know what to say to each other.

#thesvttown #kpopscape #ficscafe #jihoon fanfic #woozi fanfic #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #jihoon scenarios #woozi scenarios #fic:ljh #g:fluff #g:romance #w:5k #r:pg #t:oneshot #tw:none #p:2nd #s:reader #fic:svt #*loved before #chilligyu #lex writes

[qobiin]

our whisperings in sunlit rooms

pairing: wangxian

genre: smut, fluff | post-canon compliant 

warnings: pwp, explicit sexual content, anal sex, barebacking, soft early morning sex

a/n: happy early birthday to the foxxian to my dragonji @portscutie​​! i love you. this is also for other bottom!lwj enthusiasts too (:

word count: 2639

summary: Lan Wangji wakes in the early light of dawn with his head sheltered on his husband’s chest.

Lan Wangji wakes in the early light of dawn with his head sheltered on his husband’s chest. Neither of them is dressed and so the teeth marks and mouth-shaped bruises on Wei Wuxian’s collarbone are clear enough to see this close.

Their sheets are sticky with the remnants of their usual nightly activities, especially since Lan Wangji managed to make Wei Wuxian come twice before they fell asleep. Usually, Lan Wangji would already be taking steps to change the sheets while his husband continues to sleep. However, he resigns himself to lying on their dirty sheets a while longer when he realizes Wei Wuxian is already awake.

They have been together long enough for Lan Wangji to know Wei Wuxian is only up this early in the morning for one of three reasons. He has either had a nightmare, never went to bed in the first place, or he is planning to pin Lan Wangji to their bed and gently make love to him.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes are cloudy with the last vestiges of sleep and not bright with fear, so he must be awake for the second reason. In any case, Lan Wangji is already anticipating the early post-orgasm bliss he knows is sure to come.

“Good morning, dear husband of mine,” Wei Wuxian whispers to him when their gazes meet.

“Husband,” Lan Wangji murmurs, blinking the last of his own drowsiness away.

Wei Wuxian smiles, as bright and as gentle as he has come to smile at Lan Wangji since returning to this world in a new body. It has been years and still, Lan Wangji never tires of the thrill he feels being able to say that word in relation to Wei Wuxian, his husband who he loves more than life itself.

Lan Wangji leans into Wei Wuxian’s touch, eyes fluttering closed as his husband begins to card his fingers through his hair. It is still early, even for Lan Wangji who has always woken with the sun and will continue to do so for every night that he sleeps beside Wei Wuxian. The Jingshi is mostly dark and cool but already, Lan Zhan can see the slants of sunlight growing bigger and brighter as time crawls forward. 

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian hums into the crown of his head. “Lan Zhan.”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji says in response.

Wei Wuxian kisses his hair and flattens his free hand to the small of Lan Wangji’s back. He grounds his hips upward the moment their bodies are pressed tightly together. Lan Wangji’s next exhale is shaky, the arousal he had been ignoring up until this moment now welcomed. It is difficult not to respond to his husband’s emotions, whatever they may be at the time, but this is one feeling Lan Wangji will never come to dislike.

Tilting his head up, Lan Wangji rolls his hips slowly. Wei Wuxian understands his silent plea and leans down to press their lips together while they move as one. Neither of their morning breaths is arguably pleasant, but Lan Wangji will not complain. Lan Wangji will never complain about getting to hold the man he loves most in this world, not after he spent thirteen years mourning him and raising the son he left behind.

There was once a time when Lan Wangji lied in this exact same bed, his back lashed open for the entire world to see how his body and soul wept for Wei Wuxian. He had wanted nothing more than for his soulmate to return to him and now that he has, Lan Wangji does not intend to squander this gift from the very heavens themselves. 

Wei Wuxian’s hand wrapping around them both brings Lan Wangji out of the depressive thoughts he has done his best to bury. His husband’s kiss is more teeth than tongue, but Lan Wangji finds himself relaxing even further into the bed despite that. He tenses when Wei Wuxian squeezes them both though, moving his hand up and down their shafts slowly. Lan Wangji is certain he won’t last as long as he would like to, so he reaches down to his right until he finds the oil he discarded by the bed last night. 

When he holds it up, Wei Wuxian makes a pleased humming sound in the back of his throat that makes Lan Wangji shiver in response. The hand his husband had wrapped around them moves to grab the oil and Lan Wangji settles back on the sheets, spreading his knees apart as Wei Wuxian sits up. Their eyes meet after Wei Wuxian has dipped his fingers into the oil, a silent question hanging in the air between them. Lan Wangji nods, feeling soft as Wei Wuxian beams at him.

“Lan Zhan, your husband will do all the work,” Wei Wuxian declares as he blows on his oil-covered fingers. “All you have to do is lie back and relax.”

Lan Wangji hums, reaching out to grab Wei Wuxian’s nape. “Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian smiles as he is dragged down to give Lan Wangji another kiss, his fingers now hovering in the space between Lan Wangji’s thighs. Lan Wangji bends his knees and spreads his legs further apart, squeezing the back of Wei Wuxian’s neck only once before he releases him.

He feels himself twitch when his husband trails his fingers down his perineum before he begins to circle his rim. Wei Wuxian watches him, his gaze hungry and Lan Wangji does not look away from the silver of his husband’s eyes, focused only on keeping himself calm and loose. Wei Wuxian’s finger breaches him up to the first knuckle before Lan Wangji actually feels it, surprised at how quickly his body has tensed up.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian inquires, brow furrowed as he studies him.

Lan Wangji shakes his head and grips Wei Wuxian’s shoulder, silently urging him to stay put. He only needs a moment to adjust and then he’ll be fine. Already he can feel the flaming coil of arousal that has been building up in his groin distract him with the thought of having his husband inside him soon. He wants this, he is sure of that without a doubt and he is relieved when Wei Wuxian leans down to kiss his forehead. His husband has obviously read his silent message correctly which leaves Lan Wangji breathless with the force of his love for this man who knows him down to the bare bones of his very soul.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji breathes between them when he is ready to continue.

Wei Wuxian smiles at him, curling his finger slowly inside Lan Wangji. “Ah, Lan Zhan, my Lan Zhan. Just tell me if you want to stop.”

Lan Wangji nods even though he knows he will not want to stop any time soon. Wei Wuxian’s smile only grows in response, a second finger now toying at Lan Wangji’s rim. He tenses again only for a short moment. Wei Wuxian dips down to kiss the corner of his mouth, his other hand grabbing the oil once more.

He is relaxed again when Wei Wuxian wraps his hand around his cock, two of his fingers now buried in Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian curls his fingers, Lan Wangji becoming looser as he does. His hand around Lan Wangji is neither firm nor aggressive, only gentle and distracting enough to make Lan Wangji’s breaths come faster and sharper with each twist of his wrists.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying murmurs. “Do you want to stay on your back for this?”

Lan Wangji nods, pondering over when exactly his eyes had closed after he opens them to see a blushing Wei Wuxian staring down at him. The slick noise of the oil and Wei Wuxian’s moving hands is loud in the soft quiet of the early morning. Wei Wuxian’s voice is nothing louder than an exhale but Lan Wangji enjoys his husband’s quiet moments as much as he does his loud, excessive babbling.

He also understands that Wei Wuxian is asking if he is in any pain that would make their everyday activities uncomfortable. For that alone, Lan Wangji is certain he would fall in love with his husband all over again if he did not already love him like the moon loves the sea.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji whispers just to feel the syllables of his husband’s name in his mouth.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian croaks in response, somehow having worked a third finger into Lan Wangji when he was not paying attention. 

A particularly loud squelching sound makes Wei Wuxian laugh, slowly pulling his hands away from Lan Wangji’s groin. Lan Wangji does not say anything but his brows furrow slightly and that is all that is needed for Wei Wuxian to laugh again.

“Don’t worry, dear husband of mine. You won’t stay empty for long,” Wei Wuxian chuckles, his smile brighter than the weak morning sunshine quickly lighting up the Jingshi.

Lan Wangji waits until Wei Wuxian has lined himself up before he settles both of his hands on his shoulders. Wei Wuxian’s gaze flickers up to meet his, grinning before he looks back down at the space where they will soon be connected.

The head of Wei Wuxian’s cock is not unfamiliar against Lan Wangji’s rim. He has had his husband in more ways than even he can count but he has not disliked any of them. Each scenario and position brings its own set of benefits and Lan Wangji enjoys anything he can have with Wei Wuxian.

His grip on Wei Wuxian’s shoulders tightens momentarily as he pushes slowly into him. There is resistance at first until his body recognizes what is happening and accepts Wei Wuxian inside him. The slide then is smooth and slow. Lan Wangji’s husband is always careful when they have their everyday in the morning, not wanting either of them to be harmed when Wei Wuxian is not completely awake yet.

Once Wei Wuxian has buried himself to the hilt inside him, Lan Wangji wraps his arms around Wei Wuxian’s neck and pulls him close. Wei Wuxian moves with him easily, his mouth already pressing kisses anywhere he can reach on Lan Wangji’s face. When their lips meet, Wei Wuxian rocks his hips tentatively, testing the effect this will have.

Pleasure rockets straight into Lan Wangji’s being, eyes fluttering closed of their own accord. Wei Wuxian’s thrusts are shallow and slow, but his kisses are demanding and searing which leaves Lan Wangji reeling. He hooks his ankles behind Wei Wuxian’s back, rolling his hips down to match his husband’s rhythm. 

Wei Wuxian grows bolder with Lan Wangji’s silent encouragement. One hand digs into Lan Wangji’s waist as the other fists his hair, tugging on it when he wants to angle Lan Wangji’s face just right. They continue to exchange kisses as Wei Wuxian’s hips move faster and faster.

When they part for air, Wei Wuxian says, “Lan Zhan, you are beautiful. The most beautiful man in this world. Just look at how you open for me.”

“Only for Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji quietly corrects him as his husband smiles.

“Only for me,” Wei Wuxian confirms. “And I am only for you.”

Lan Wangji hums in affirmation, closing his eyes as his husband chuckles. When Wei Wuxian dips down to kiss him again, Lan Wangji loses himself in the simple and pure pleasure of this. He loves the feeling of having Wei Wuxian inside him. He loves the way Wei Wuxian will pull back until just the tip of his cock is still inside him then slam in without notice as the gentleness of their early morning leaves him. Having his husband buried deep within him as he kisses him breathless is one of the things Lan Wangji loves most about married life with Wei Wuxian.

He loves it more when Wei Wuxian scrapes his teeth down his throat until his tongue meets the place where the Wen brand on Lan Wangji’s chest begins. 

Admittedly, the first time Wei Wuxian had tried putting his mouth on it, Lan Wangji had asked him to stop and Wei Wuxian did. They did not discuss it afterward, mostly because Lan Wangji did not know what to say, but the next time Wei Wuxian tried to kiss that brand he only did so after asking Lan Wangji first. Now, they have been together long enough that Lan Wangji has grown used to the way Wei Wuxian will lather affection on all his scars.

He shivers under the onslaught of Wei Wuxian’s tongue on his scarred skin, the burning wave of his arousal building to momentous heights inside him. Wei Wuxian’s thrusts are becoming sloppy as well, a sure sign of his own upcoming orgasm.

Lan Wangji twists his fingers into the hair at Wei Wuxian’s nape, tugging softly to get his attention. His husband does not stop moving in him but once their gazes meet, Lan Wangji is leaning up to capture Wei Wuxian’s lips in a kiss. It is messier than usual, their teeth clacking together at first when Wei Wuxian pushes into him harder than before. Lan Wangji only tightens his grip on his husband, clenching around him in the hopes that he will understand his wish for Wei Wuxian to finish inside him.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says against his lips anyway.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji responds, reassuring his husband of what he wants.

Wei Wuxian groans loudly then, hips stuttering forward twice more before he stills. Lan Wangji watches him as he comes, his husband’s eyelashes fluttering closed over bright pink cheeks Lan Wangji would like to bite. He can feel Wei Wuxian pulsing inside him and that is when his own pleasure decides to rear its head.

Almost as if Wei Wuxian were able to read his mind, Lan Wangji groans under his breath when his husband’s hand grabs his cock once more. Wei Wuxian uses his weight to hold Lan Wangji down and strokes him as he rolls his hips into him again and again. He can feel his husband softening and the squelching sounds from earlier have only grown more vulgar but Lan Wangji does not care enough about that to truly notice.

Lan Wangji comes as Wei Wuxian is twisting his hand around the head of his cock, still buried deep inside him. He whispers Wei Wuxian’s name like a prayer, head thrown back as the rolling abyss of his orgasm swallows him whole.

When he comes back to, Wei Wuxian has already slid out of him and is rearranging them so he is curled around Lan Wangji’s back. Wei Wuxian presses a trail of kisses to his shoulder blades, following the lines of his whip scars as he is prone to do when he is holding Lan Wangji tight.

It feels calming being held by his husband, the man he has loved since he was sixteen. Even when he is lying in bed naked with Wei Wuxian’s come dripping out of him, he does not find himself wanting to get up and begin the day. Lan Wangji would rather lie in bed with Wei Wuxian in their blissful little cacoon, but then nothing would ever get done. Still, he can afford a few moments more of this before he has to bathe and look presentable enough for his daily responsibilities as Chief Cultivator.

“Lan Zhan, husband,” Wei Wuxian interrupts his thoughts as he whispers into his ear.

“Mn,” Lan Wangji hums in question, turning in Wei Wuxian’s embrace to face him.

Wei Wuxian leans in and kisses him softly, a hand cupping Lan Wangji’s cheek tenderly. He pulls back only far enough to whisper against Lan Wangji’s lips with a blush on his cheeks and adoration written all over his face.

“I love you,” he promises.

Lan Wangji smiles.

#wangxian #lan wangji #wei wuxian #wangxian smut #mdzs #cql #the untamed #oneshot #f:mdzs #g:smut #g:fluff #t:oneshot #p:lan wangji/wei wuxian #m: fic

[sunshinehyck]

navi

member (seventeen): m:wjh, m:jww, m:ljh, m:lsm

member (nct): m:lmh, m:hrj, m:ldh, m:njm

group: grp:seventeen, grp:nct

genre: g:angst, g:fluff, g:crack, g:suggestive

type: t:oneshot, t:timestamp, t:series, t:smau

wc: wc:1k, wc:3k, wc:5k, wc:7k, wc:8k, wc:10k, wc:11k, wc:13k, wc:15k, wc:17k

#navigation #featured

[rklandon]

░▐ ★_one shot 、

《 ★ rkwoohyun 》 there’s coffee in his system compared to the decaf green tea that jinki keeps him well-stocked in and he doesn’t think to warn any of his fellow group members lest it raises more concerns. he’s cruising along on this mood, hoping it lasts but knowing he’ll crash and burn within hours. as long as it lasts while they’re in front of the camera, it’ll be worth it. it’ll all be worth it in the end, right? everything they gave up, everything he’s giving up, everything he went back to in china that he came back to seoul for... it’ll be worth it when they’re onstage and until then he’s waiting, on-call and trying his best not to implode. his energy is all over the place and now he’s circling woohyun, pretending to snap his own pics with his fingers extended in a rectangle shape. “that’s it, right there. woohyun, this way! give me a smile!” he jokes, but the excitement makes his fingers jittery. his heart’s racing and he wonders if he’s over-done it. how much caffeine is too much? he never tested it like this before but the weekend is long when he’s short on rest. “one more, over here!” he waves, gesturing for woohyun to follow him and he puts his “camera” down only to wipe off a bead of sweat along his forehead. that’s not entirely normal, is it? 

#rkwoohyun #t:oneshot #convex:octeval

[shineefics]

“Kibum?” Jonghyun repeats, as if he can hardly believe it. “I can't—you work here?” He has the same voice still. The same way of speaking. A little fuller now, a bit stronger, but Kibum supposes that's where years of vocal training get you. It takes Kibum three seconds to rework his face and voice back into impassivity. “That's Doctor Kim to you, Kim-ssi.” (Or, the one wherein Jonghyun walks—figuratively speaking, of course—into the hospital with a twisted ankle and, in Kibum's humble opinion, the intention of ruining his life.) Pairing: jongkey (side onho) Chapters: 1 Rated: pg13 Completed: yes

#kiblum #ficrec #jongkey #a:au #t:oneshot #r:safe #g:fluff