#g:fluff

But Thursdays? Those Seungmin kept clear just for you.

“Ew,” you wrinkle your nose as your boyfriend leans down and plants a sloppy kiss on your forehead.

He raises a brow before flopping into the seat next to you and wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Say that again,” Seungmin mutters as he peppers more kisses on your face.

Somehow, he manages to make the words sound both threatening and endearing at the same time. His lips trail their way down your cheek, along your jaw, to the corner of your lips, until you can’t take it anymore.

“Okay, okay,” you relent with a laugh. “I missed you too.”

“That’s what I thought,” he says triumphantly. You tilt your head up, ready for the final kiss, but he pretends not to notice the way you pucker your lips.

“Now get away from me.”

Seungmin dramatically pushes you off, but the smirk playing across his face tells you that he is just joking.

“Okay, loser,” you sniff, taking a sip from your coffee.

“How was class today?” He asks, shrugging his bag onto the ground.

“S’alright,” you sigh, pushing a cup towards him. You had ordered his iced Americano when you had arrived a few minutes earlier. This was your favorite café, and it had become a tradition to meet here after classes—it was a bit far from campus, sure, but you never minded, and neither did Seungmin.

He takes a big sip from his drink, grinning happily. 

“Are you finally done with that project Professor Cho assigned?”

“Yes, thank god,” you roll your eyes.

“Good,” he laces his fingers with your hand on top of the table.

“Now you can focus all your attention on me again,” he bats his eyelashes. 

“Awww, was my Minnie jealous of my biology class?” You coo.

“Never,” he wrinkles his nose. “I don’t get jealous.”

“Riiiiiiight,” you nod. “So what do you call that time you ignored Jeongin for two weeks because, and I quote, he was ‘breathing too close’ to me?”

“I just didn’t want any of his stupidity to rub off,” Seungmin says sincerely. “You need every brain cell you can get.”

You scoff and try to break free from where his hand holds yours, but his fingers just tighten their grasp.

“Okay, well what about that time you blew up on Changbin because he fell asleep in my lap?”

Your boyfriend’s eyes narrow at the memory.

“That was, like, a week before we made it official,” he insists. “It wasn’t jealousy, it was anxiety.”

“And who’s fault is it that it took us so long to get together?” You tease.

“Jisung’s,” Seungmin says immediately.

“Okay,” you admit. “That’s like, half true.”

Before you and Seungmin started dating, before the two of you were even friends, there was Han Jisung.

You met him on the first day of college orientation. He latched onto you immediately, claiming that you were the only one who seemed nice enough to be friends with someone as annoying as him. You thought he was just trying to be funny, but after three days non-stop with hi, you learned the hard way he was being dead seriously. Unfortunately (or fortunately?), he was annoying in the exact same way as you, so the two of you got along splendidly.

Seungmin on the other hand had no choice in his relationship with Jisung. Neighbors by chance, childhood friends by force, the two of them were attached at the hip all throughout middle school and high school. In what your boyfriend describes as a cruel twist of fate, Jisung even ended up following Seungmin to university a few towns over. He jokes about how he’ll never be free of him, but you know Seungmin does actually care a lot about Jisung, even if he refuses to admit it.

Once it became apparent that you were a permanent fixture in his life, Jisung made it his duty to connect the bridge between his two best friends. Unfortunately for him, however, you and Seungmin don’t have the smoothest of starts.

The day that Jisung tries to introduce you is probably the worst day possible. You are irritated and sleep deprived, and Seungmin is a week out from the deadline for his biggest presentation of the semester. In short, the two of you are teetering on the edge of sanity and are a little more than a bit exasperated with Jisung himself.

After staying up all night studying for an exam, the last thing you want is to get wasted and stay out past 2am, and yet that is the most likely fate you face when Jisung drags you out to a party against your will.

You really don’t want to be here, but—well, you figure that since you have nothing else to do, you might as well take a chance to de-stress. The party is still in its first leg and hasn’t grown into the rager that it undoubtedly will be, so it is relatively easy to venture into the kitchen and grab a drink.

The first time you lay eyes on Kim Seungmin is when you make your way back to Jisung. The two of them are standing in the backyard, locked in a tepid conversation as you approach.

“Seriously, Jisung,” Seungmin says, running a hand through his hair. “This is why you dragged me out of the library?”

The first thing you notice is how hot he is. Tall, strong jawline, angular face, chocolate eyes. 

The second thing you notice, almost immediately after, is how unhappy he looks to be here. Even more unhappy than you.

“C’mon,” Jisung whines, tugging on Seungmin’s arm. “It’s just for a little bit, and I promise Y/N is cool! Is it a crime that I want my best friends to be friends?”

“It is when I have a ten page paper due tomorrow,” Seungmin mutters.

You don’t blame him for being pissy, but something about the way he says it, with such clear disdain in his voice, rubs you the wrong way.

“Nice to meet you too,” you say sarcastically as you come to a stop next to them.

“Y/N, there you are!” Jisung exclaims happily, latching on to your arm too.

You take a sip of your drink, pushing down the wince that threatens to spread across your face at the taste of pure battery acid jungle juice. And the entire time, you maintain eye contact with Seungmin, never breaking even as you swallow.

To his credit, Seungmin stares back with no hesitation. If you hadn’t been annoyed with him, you probably would have found his confidence insanely attractive. Instead, it annoys you even more. 

And while the two of you are locked in an intense staredown, Jisung stands in between you, one arm still linked with yours and the other with Seungmin’s.

“Y/N,” Jisung begins excitedly. “This is Seungmin. Seungmin, this is Y/N.”

“Right,” Seungmin says dryly. “No offense. I’m sure you’re great...”

The rest of the sentence is implied: “...but I have better things to do right now.”

“You too,” you can’t resist jabbing back.

“So nice to meet you,” Seungmin says briskly. It’s not rude, but it’s not not.

“Not sure if I can say the same,” you respond, a smile stretching across your face despite the acid in your tone.

“G-Guys...” Jisung interrupts nervously, but neither of you notice. 

“Right...” Seungmin says again, nodding slowly.

Despite your abrasive remark, he doesn’t show much reaction. His apathy is like an itch under your skin; in the end, that is what annoys you the most. 

(Now, you love how cool and collected Seungmin can be. But back then, when you first met him, you hated it.)

“Well,” Seungmin turns to Jisung, who has gone as pale as a sheet by now. 

“We met. I’m going to go now.”

“W-What—?” Jisung stutters. Before he can intervene, Seungmin nods once at you and turns, taking three long strides away from you.

By the time Jisung finally finds his words again, Seungmin has already disappeared.

The next time you meet Seungmin is at one of the first movie nights at Hyunjin and Minho’s. It has been a few weeks since Jisung’s failed attempt to introduce you, and you are already cozy on the couch next to Felix when Seungmin walks in.

Jisung is in the middle of telling a very animated story to Minho when he spots Seungmin and immediately freezes. The color leeches from his face so fast that you think he might pass out, but it is only when he looks quickly between you and Seungmin that you realize exactly why he looks so nervous.

“Min,” Felix says happily. “You made it!”

Seungmin nods, his eyes briefly passing over you before he spots the empty spot next to Chan and makes a beeline for it. 

After a little time and a lot of sleep (and maybe just a tad bit of reflection) you have come to the realization that maybe your reaction to Seungmin at the party wasn’t warranted. After all, he was entitled to be annoyed at Jisung and the situation in general, and it wasn’t you specifically that he was irritated about, so you have no reason to take it personally or hold a grudge.

Which is why you’re not annoyed at Seungmin’s presence. tonight. Instead, you can’t help but feel a little bit... awkward. Chagrined, maybe?

You might feel calm but Jisung is two seconds away from pissing his pants. In fact, he’s so desperate to clear up any misunderstandings that halfway through the movie he texts you for an emergency rendezvous in the kitchen.

“IpromiseIdidn’tknowhewasgoingtocometonight!” Jisung blurts out in one breath once you two are away from the rest of the guys.

“Okay...?” You raise a brow.

“So, like,” he blabbers, “don’t hate me! I love you both and I’m sorry for forcing you guys to meet—”

“—Jisung,” you interrupt. “It’s okay.”

“Really?” He asks uncertainly.

“Really,” you affirm.

“Okay,” he nods, and you feel the overwhelming urge to give him a paper bag to breathe into. Not because that is the proper treatment for hyperventilation—precisely because it isn’t, and maybe if he passes out then he’ll stop worrying.

When you walk back into the living room, Seungmin doesn’t even look up at you, but you have the strangest feeling that he knows exactly what you and Jisung were talking about.

Later that night, you loiter around the apartment a little bit longer than you usually would, just to avoid leaving at the same time as Seungmin. Your plan backfires, though, when Jisung has to leave early. You try to hang around a little bit longer, but then Minho and Hyunjin start to wonder why you are still there, and you have no choice but to leave. 

Which is how you end up trailing awkwardly after Seungmin on your walk back to your apartment. It takes him precisely two minutes to notice that you are behind him, and then three more before he comes to a halt.

“I’m not following you!” You insist immediately. “My place is just in this direction too.”

“Okay.”

“Okay...” you parrot back awkwardly.

“So,” Seungmin begins a moment later. “I just... I wanted to apologize.”

“What?”

“For that night at the party,” he clarifies. “I was kind of... no, I was very stressed. And rude. It wasn’t cool for me to treat you like that.”

You are so stunned you don’t know what to say.

“Jisung speaks very highly of you,” Seungmin continues. “And I swear, if it had been any other day, I wouldn’t have been such a dick. Not that it’s any excuse...”

“Well,” you begin, a warm blush spreading over your cheeks. “I don’t think that’s really your fault. I was kind of a bitch, too.”

His serious facade cracks and a small hint of a smile peeks through.

“Either way,” Seungmin says. “I did actually want to make a good impression, believe it or not, so... Do you think we could start over?”

You don’t even have to think before you respond, “I’ll gladly erase that version of Y/N you met for this one. I promise, I’m not always that rude.”

His face breaks into a bigger smile, and it almost takes your breath away.

“Well,” he says. “That makes two of us.”

That is the beginning of your friendship with Seungmin. After that first movie night, you start to see him more frequently on campus. Then, the new semester starts, and you find that the two of you share an intro to film class.

Almost naturally, the two of you start to hang out more and more, and you begrudgingly realize that maybe Jisung was on to something when he insisted that the two of you meet.

It is only when you’re too deep in and the feelings (romantic, of course) for Seungmin have really started to take root do the two of you realize—even though you rehabilitated your relationship, Jisung still thinks you hate each other. 

This realization hits on a Friday at a party that Changbin drags the entire group to. This time, thankfully, both you and Seungmin do want to be there, and the night is going well.

(At least, as well as it can when you are grappling with the complicated newfound feelings you have for a recent friend-slash-study buddy.)

Then, in the midst of a tequila the midst of a tequila-induced haze, Jeongin finds you and Seungmin on the dancefloor.

“Hey!” he shouts. “You guys are friends, right?”

Seungmin looks at you, then shrugs.

“Yeah!” You shout back. 

“Then why,” Jeongin asks, “is Jisung about to have a mental breakdown about you two?”

“What do you mean?”

He keeps whining to Changbin about how horrible it is that you two hate each other!”

“We don’t—” You begin.

The realization hits you and Seungmin at the same time, and it’s like you can see the lightbulb go off in his head. 

“Oh...” you mutter.

“Oh,” he agrees.

“You guys are weird!” Jeongin shouts, eyes flitting between the two of you as you stare at each other.

“Heyyyyyy!” Jisung shouts even louder, his voice anxious as he comes to a stop between you and Seungmin.

“How are you both doing?”

His nervousness is almost laughable, but when you look at Seungmin, there is a devious twinkle in his eyes.

By now, you know him pretty well. And that look? It tells you only one thing: that he’s about to do something to fuck around with Jisung.

“I’m fine,” Seungmin says primly. His tone is such a stark contrast to how he was speaking only moments ago—it is guarded and prickly, and you catch on immediately.

“Who knows,” you mutter a moment later, going along with Seungmin.

“So you guys—” Jisung begins wearily.

“He keeps following me,” you point out.

“She keeps following me,” Seungmin rebutts.

“R-Really?” Jisung asks nervously. 

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. “I’m going to find Felix.”

Seungmin averts his gaze quickly, but not before you see the way he is biting back his laugh. And when you turn on your heel and head outside, a smile is plastered to your face as Jisung begins to badger him with questions.

The smile remains glued in place as the sound of Seungmin fibbing fades into the background.

That is the first time you pretend to still dislike each other in front of Jisung. The next time it happens is right before Hyunjin’s birthday when Felix ropes everyone into baking brownies for him. After that, it is when you and the guys go paintballing and you and Seungmin end up on opposite teams.

The fun of it is always how flustered Jisung gets. None of your other friends actually believe that you and Seungmin dislike each other—they know better than that. But Jisung, with his whole chest, thinks you and Seungmin hate each other. (Never mind the fact that you can’t look at him without hearts in your eyes...)

Once the charade started, you and Seungmin never clarified how long you were going to play along with it. Eventually, months have passed, and then when he finally works up the guts to ask you out officially, the face remains firmly in place.

Which is how you wind up here, six months later and happily dating, with your mutual best friend under the assumption that you guys actually hate each other.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” Seungmin asks as he takes a sip from his iced Americano.

“How irritating you were when we first met,” you say wistfully, tapping your fingers affectionately on the back of his hand.

“Hmmm? I recall you being just as irritating,” Seungmin tells you. 

“Me?” You gasp. “I’m an angel. I could never.”

“More like a devil in disguise,” he rolls his eyes.

“If I’m a devil, what does that say about you?”

“What can I say? I love charity work,” he declares dramatically. “You’re my community service project.

“I’m telling your mom,” you attempt to pull your hand out of his, and this time you succeed.

A pout stretches across his face, and it only takes a few seconds for you to break and lace your fingers with his once again.

“You’re scared of my mom,” Seungmin challenges, a lazy smirk stretching across his face.

Butterflies swim through your stomach, but you shove them down at the obvious jab.

“I’m not scared of her!” You insist. “I’m scared of meeting her. There’s a difference.”

“Sure, babe,” he nods solemnly.

“I’m serious!”

“I’m sure you are,” he placates.

“Stop looking at me like that,” now it is your turn to pout.

“Like what?” He asks innocently. 

“Like you think I’m cute.”

“But I do think you’re cute,” Seungmin points out.

“Well,” you say, flustered. “Stop!”

“It’s your fault for looking like that,” he says. “I’m not making you do that. In fact, don’t you think it’s more unfair for me?”

“How?” You narrow your eyes.

“I should be the cute one in the relationship,” he says like its obvious. “It’s not fair that you’re more adorable than me.”

“Awww, Seung,” you light up.

“I think you’re very adorable, and—” you coo, but stop short when something outside the coffee shop window catches you by surprise.

“—And I hate you,” you finish shortly, shoving Seungmin’s hand out of yours and crossing your arm with a huff.

“What?” He mutters, confused. “Wait, what just happened? Did I do something wrong?”

You roll your eyes, scooting your chair away from him. A distinctive chime rings, indicating that the door has been opened and then closed.

“Babe—” He begins, but then he stops too.

“Bab-y,” Seungmin says derisively, arranging his face into a mask of cool disdain.

“I’m calling you a baby.”

“Nice save,” you mouth, and Seungmin sticks his tongue out at you.

“Y/N,” Jisung’s voice comes behind you. “Seungmin! What are you guys doing here... Together?”

He sounds equal parts shocked and horrified, and for a moment you feel bad for him.

Then you remember that time last month when he woke you up at the ass crack of dawn and dragged you on a hike up a mountain, only to abandon you halfway up because he got a call from the girl he’s been hooking up with to come over, and you suddenly don’t feel bad anymore.

“Our professor assigned a group project,” Seungmin fibs seamlessly. “Y/N and I got paired up.”

“No need to sound so annoyed,” you say sweetly, kicking him under the table. 

(It’s less of a kick and more of you playing footsies with him, but it has the desired effect when Jisung’s eyes flit nervously around and Seungmin’s finger twitches ever so slightly towards your hand.)

“Who said I’m annoyed about it?” Seungmin asks, a serene smile stretching across his face.

“You did,” you tell him. “Many times, actually.”

“I’m more than annoyed. Exasperated, maybe, or incensed.

“Anyways,” you roll your eyes, barely able to keep your laughter at bay.

The funniest part about this conversation is that Seungmin isn’t completely lying.

Although the two of you aren’t currently working on anything, you were paired up a few weeks ago. Throughout the project, he couldn’t stop complaining about how annoying it was to be paired up with you—he claimed you were a pretty distraction, and that he couldn’t be expected to get any work done around you when he could kiss you instead.

“What are you doing here, Jisung?”

“I was just passing by!” He says shrilly, a little bit too fast.

Your raise an eyebrow. Recently, any time Jisung finds you and Seungmin in a (fake) argument, he can’t seem to escape fast enough. Individually, he has no problem being around you two. But it’s like he’s afraid to be standing in the blast zone when it comes to you and Seungmin together—which, in your opinion, is hilarious. 

The farce, then, is both amusing and beneficial, which is probably why you and Seungmin have dragged it out for so long. Because god knows, if Jisung knew that you and Seungmin actually liked each other, he would never give you any alone time.

His two best friends being friends is his dream. His two best friends dating? Frankly, you’re scared to see how he would act...

“Passing by?” Seungmin asks. “This far away from campus?”

“Yup!” Jisung exclaims cheerily. “And would you look at that? It’s already 4pm. I’ve got to go! I’ll see you later, bye!”

He is already inching towards the door before he begins speaking. By the time he has squeezed all the words out, his hands are on the door. 

You barely have the chance to say a quick “bye!” before he swings the door open and rushes out.

You and Seungmin watch through the window as Jisung speed walks away from the coffee shop, his fingers gripping his bag tightly.

And then, when he is out of sight, you both burst into laughter.

“Sorry babe,” you pout, reaching for Seungmin’s hand once the coast is clear. “I don’t actually hate you.”

“Well, unfortunately,” he clicks his tongue. “I was actually calling you a baby.”

Your pout deepens.

“But you’re my baby,” Seungmin amends, giving you a little kiss on the cheek. You sigh happily, scooting close so you can link your arm through his.

“D’you think we should tell him sometime soon?” You ask. 

A moment of silence passes.

“Nah,” Seungmin says finally. 

“Really?” 

“He was a menace to me throughout high school,” he says. “This is my revenge.

“Okay...” You say uncertainly.

“And, if you think about it,” Seungmin goes on. “It’s his fault that he still hasn’t noticed after all this time. All the other guys know. Even Hyunjin knows.”

“You know, that is a good point.”

“Thanks babe,” he kisses your cheek again, a smirk on his face. “I know it is.”

“Oh, hush,” you mutter, not entirely happy with how smug he looks.

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.”

beach day by marvelbws

british people be like by kelieah

summary: you make tom duet the “british people be like” tiktok.

cuddle session by cali-holland

summary: when zendaya posts a picture of you and tom cuddling, the internet freaks out.

dance to this by sunshinehollandd

summary: you and tom are planning to go out for the night, but end up getting sidetracked.

driving in the rain by parkers-gal

summary: fluffy dinner date and rainy drive back home.

family isn’t always blood by toms-gf

finals week by thollandthot

summary: your doting boyfriend decides to visit you at school in hopes to help you relieve some stress during your exams.

fluff alphabet by imagines-mai

home by parkersroses

home sweet home by sunshinehollandd

summary: tom comes home after being away for a while.

how to care for an overwhelmed boyfriend by words-for-holland

summary: tom is always there to take care of y/n when she needs him, but now it’s y/n’s turn to take care of him.

hubby by cali-holland

summary: tom makes even the simplest of days amazing.

i got you by kelieah

summary: celebrating new years with tom and tessa.

i want to by sunshinehollandd

summary: you and tom are alone in his room for the first time.

imagine... by starlight-parkers

in his by madmadmilk

summary: recounting a cold night, where you are happy to be his.

keep dreaming by spidervveb

summary: tom comes home late to find you sleeping on the sofa and brings you to bed.

loving tom by peterplanet

summary: in which your love for tom is selfless.

morning sun by rosyparkers

summary: you love soft sunday mornings with tom almost as much as you love his hands.

mornings with you by mcumendes

my shot by saysomethingspiderman (ao3)

summary: tom surprises you during your west end debut.

on the dot by ptersmj

summary: tom is always running late, but never this much.

one in the morning by rosyparkers

summary: domesticity in the middle of the night with one (1) goofy husband.

pet names by softspideys

summary: you and tom are broken up, but continue to use old pet names for each other.

petals & thorns by wazzupmrstark

summary: tom always brings you flowers when he’s thinking of you, and you want to switch it up and return the favor.

plank all over me by waitimcomingtoo

summary: you have to keep your cool while the incredibly flirty tom holland planks over you.

press week by parkersbliss

summary: just three times you and tom were too adorable during press week.

proud by asonofpeter

summary: you’re just really proud of tom. 

puppy love by peter-is-the-best-avenger

summary: tessa getting all jealous when she sees you and tom kissing.

quit staring by sanjariti (ao3)

summary: tom just can't quit staring at you.

quiet nights by duskholland

summary: tom’s had a day. from working a night shoot to being followed by loud paparazzi to just generally feeling down in the dumps, he’s exhausted. luckily, there’s always somewhere he can go for refuge.

rest by hilllsnholland

summary: tom needs to wake up early for his live stream so you cuddle with him and help him get some well-deserved rest afterward.

sacred new beginnings by cali-holland

summary: you fall in love with tom on cornelia street.

simple acts of intimacy by parkers-gal

soft moments in bed by 5-seconds-of-mendes

stay by softspideys

summary: four times tom proves to you he’s not going anywhere, and one time you prove it to him.

stuck with me by devotion

“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.

“Do I need to come and get him?”

“Please? Jeonghan and I have our hands full with everyone else. I’ve called Soonyoung's girlfriend and Jun's. They’re on their way. If you can get Seungcheol, I think we can handle the rest.”

Kicking off your covers, you crawl out of bed. “Whose bright idea was this anyway?” You grumble as you rummage in the dark for a pair of pants. You really need to replace the bulb in your night stand’s lamp. “It's a week night, Vernon. A week night.” You struggle into your pants, putting them on backwards first, as Vernon fumbles through an explanation. “I’m not blaming you, Vernon. But if you point the finger in the right direction, I may murder someone.” He staunchly refuses, so you tell him to send you the address and hang up.

The noraebang is all neon lights. Standing in front of it, you could be convinced it was day time, but the tightness under your eyes reminds you of where you should be right now. You smother a yawn as you enter the too bright building. You walk past rooms filled with people, and you glare at them. The room at the end of the hall flashes with blue and green lights. Their rhythm is swift, promising a high tempo song.

Pushing open the door unleashes a hammer of noise, and your head immediately responds with an ache. Vernon is standing with Mingyu and Dino in a corner. The two have sandwiched him between them and are swaying to the music. He waves a free hand before pointing across the room to the spot in front of the monitor where Seungcheol dances with a chopstick in one hand and a tambourine in the other. You give Vernon a thumbs up before moving further into the chaos.

The sound continues to beat against your head as you make your way across the trash strewn floor. Seungkwan barrels toward you with mic in hand, and you set his drunk ass on a couch. You’re here for one reason, and once you have him by the wrist you two will be out of here and headed back to your bed.

Seungcheol sees you before you reach him. The tambourine and chopstick go flying as he throws his arms out ready to smother you with his love. You allow the hug. There’s no escaping it, and even if you are peeved, you still want the hug. “Why are you here? Do you want to sing?” He steps back his eyes aglow, ready to steal the microphone from Seungkwan.

You place your hands on either side of his head. “No, we are leaving.” He pouts and whines, the epitome of a puppy, but you keep your hands firmly in place. “I am taking you to my apartment.” His eyes narrow to sultry slits, but you quickly correct that thought pattern. “You are sleeping on the couch, and we'll both be lucky if you’re still awake when we get there.” You release his face and grab a wrist. He follows diligently behind you.

He is half awake when you arrive back at your apartment which means he half walks and you half carry him up the stairs. You curse him with each step you take, but he hears nothing but music and continues to sing.

Out of breath when you enter, you drop him on a kitchen chair and fill a glass of water for him and yourself. His glass gets a straw. You place it in front of him at the table, positioning the straw in his mouth. “Drink.” And you stand beside him until the water level starts dropping.

As he works on his water, you grab an extra blanket and pillow from the hall closet and make up the couch as best you can. The glass is empty when you return, and Seungcheol sleeps with his head on the table. You contemplate leaving him there for the night but know that his hangover will be bad enough without a crick in his neck.

With a gentle nudge, he wakes enough for you to get him off the chair and onto the couch. You pull off his shoes, position his head comfortably on the pillow and cover him with the blanket. His face softens with sleep, and you allow yourself a moment to stare. The warmth which fills your chest reminds you why you are willing to forfeit sleep and travel halfway across the city for this stupid man.

Pushing yourself off the floor, you head for your bedroom, but a hand on your wrist pulls you back. Seungcheol stares up at you, sleep heavy on his lids. “I love you.” He whispers.

Donghun- Donghun and I rested on the bed. The tv played a thriller, the sound engulfing the room. Donghun laid on his back, his chest bare as he laid with his shirt off. His skin was warm as I laid on top of his chest, my hand rested on his peck as my head laid against his collarbone to view the tv better. His heartbeat was calm as we watched, but I could feel mine beating out of my chest. My hand rubbed his chest gently, but when a jump scare appeared on screen my menstruations would stop, causing Donghun to let out a deep chuckle.

"You may want to close your eyes, princess." Donghun tells me as his lips rest against the top of my head, his voice a deep whisper.

As his sentence finishes, a scream comes from the tv as the murder appears on the screen. I gasp as I turn my head, my face against Donghun's chest as I breathe heavily from my rapid heart.  Donghun pulls me closer to his body with his arm, his squeeze comforting.

"It's over now." He tells me as I lift my head back up to watch the movie.

Jun- We had built a blanket fort, one that filled the living room, giving us plenty of room to roll around in as we watched the movie. It was my idea to watch the scary movie. Jun protested severely, but when I promised him a pillow fort and lots of kisses to distract him he, reluctantly, agreed. When the music became suspenseful, Jun would scooch over to my side of the fort. He would cuddle me quickly, burying my face into his neck to shield me from the scariness. He wanted to hide himself too, but his care was more concerned for me. I lift my head to look at him, grabbing his face in my hands. I pull his lips to mine, our eyes closing as the music increases in intensity. I could feel Jun's heartbeat through his neck, it pulsing in fear. I keep his lips on mine until the music calms.

"There is no point of even watching the movie." Jun states with fear still in his eyes.

"I promise you wont see anything scary." I tell him with my forehead touching his, leaning back in when the music came back in.

Byeongkwan- It was his idea, mostly because he admitted to wanting me to cower into him. He picked the scariest movie he could think of just to have me on top of him.

When the antagonist appears on the screen, I scream hiding my face in my pillow.

I hear Byeongkwan chuckle. "Baby, you can come over here, I'll protect you."

I contemplate his offer, wanting to stubbornly stay away from him cause I knew that's what he wanted. But my heart was was palpitating  making his offer seem desirable. Suddenly, a screech came from the tv, making Byeongkwan jump. I laugh as I continue to hide my face.

"Baby, let's protect each other." Byeongkwan whines as he crawls over to me.

"I think you're the baby now, baby." I giggle as he lays his head on my lap.

He bites my thigh, making me screech.

"it distracted you from the movie." He winked.

I pull his hair, making him groan out in pain.  

"It distracted you from the movie." I mimic back. Byeongkwan smirks as he lifts up to continue distracting me from the movie.

Seyoon- It wasn't a movie we realized was scary, but as it kept playing the scarier it got. we had started on opposite sides of the couch, but as it progressed I continued to scoot closer to Seyoon, crawling onto his lap.

"We can turn it off, Honeybee." Seyoon whispers as he goes tp grab the remote.

"No." I tell him grabbing his arm, looking up at him. "It's fine."

Suddenly, the tv screen flashes, illuminating the whole room. I gasp and bury my face into Seyoon's neck.  He wraps his arms around me, pulling me fully into his body to where my head could rest in his neck for the remainder of the movie.

Chan- The rest of the boys had been watching the movie when Chan and I returned from our date. We sat down next to Donghun, cuddling into each other. I hear Donghun snigger, making me look at him. His eyes trained on the tv, but his lips were in an amused smile. I shrug it off, going back to Chan. I look over to Jun, seeing his worried expression as he looked at the screen. Fear ran through my body as I worried about what movie was being played.

“What movie is this?” I ask Donghun in a whisper.

Suddenly, a man comes at the screen, making Jun, Chan, Byeongkwan and I let out screams. Chan and I screaming louder, because we didn’t realize we had walked into a scary movie.

“Why didn’t you warn us?” Chan screeches as he covers him and I with a blanket to hide us from the screen.

Donghun bursts into laughter. “You two are peas in a pod.”

“Pods being protection from scary things.” I shoot back quietly as I cuddle further into Chan as the scary movie floods our ears but not our eyes.