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reiding-writing · 19 hours ago

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YOU OPENED YOUR REQUESTS?? omg a wonderful start to the new year!! ignore if this doesn’t speak to your soul— but would you be able to write a good old fashioned best friends to lovers, mutual pining fic for reid? i’m a sucker for the “he fell first, she fell harder” trope, like he’s been in love with her since day one and their friendship has always toed the line of something more, but she’s an oblivious genius and doesn’t realize how deep their affections for each other run……. and like when she realizes her feelings (like a brick to the head) she starts DISTANCING HERSELF OOH A LITTLE ANGST THERE and reid is like :(( what did i do :(( but it’s ok bc they smooch and make up in the end

263 DAYS — SPENCER REID!

a lot can change in 263 days.

spencer reid x fem!reader | 7.3k | flangst | masterlist.

a/n — writing longer fics like this is so fun but also so long, but it’s been nice to get back into it 🙂‍↕️

WARNINGS | friends to lovers, emotional distancing, brief (almost) argument, reader gets injured and goes to the hospital (but recovers fine), happy ending

DAY ONE

You step into the conference room of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, a mixture of nerves and anticipation twisting in your stomach.

The space feels both larger and smaller than you'd imagined—a sprawling table, chairs scattered in quiet disarray, and a dozen tiny details you'd only seen in crime documentaries and shadowed profiles on paper.

The faint scent of coffee and something metallic—maybe old ink—hangs in the air, grounding you. You take a slow, measured breath, trying to steady yourself.

You’re here. You made it.

“First day?”

The voice is soft, inquisitive, and it pulls your attention immediately. You glance to your right and meet the eyes of someone who seems equally curious and cautious, like a bird assessing whether you’re safe to approach.

He’s lanky, taller than you expected, with an untamed mop of brown hair and a pair of shoes that look like they’ve seen a decade’s worth of pavement. Spencer Reid, you realise.

“Yes,” you manage, your voice steadier than you feel. “And you must be Dr. Reid.”

He smiles at the title, though it seems more reflexive than genuine. He shuffles forward a step, hands awkwardly held together behind his back. “Just Reid. Or Spencer. Whichever you prefer.”

You offer your hand to him, nervous, but inviting. “Nice to meet you, Reid.”

He nods quickly, eyes flickering over your hand like he wants to take it, but he doesn’t. “Sorry, I don’t uh— germs—”

“Oh,” You pull your hand back a little too quickly, awkwardly stuffing it into your pocket. “Sorry, uh—”

“No, no, it’s not you, I’m just— conscious about it,” He presses his lips together in what almost a smile, a silent apology.

You mirror it. “It’s nice to meet you anyway,”

“You too,”

His gaze flicks over you, not in the usual appraising way you’ve grown used to from strangers, but more like he’s cataloging details he can’t quite put into words. There’s no judgment in his eyes, just pure, unabashed interest.

“You’re nervous,” He says, then winces. “Sorry. That sounded... obvious. I just meant—it’s normal. Most people are their first day. Especially here,” His voice lowers slightly, conspiratorial. “It can be... intense.”

A laugh escapes you, light and involuntary, breaking the tension in your chest. “Not exactly comforting, but thanks for the honesty,”

This time, his smile reaches his eyes. “I’m not great at comfort, but I excel at honesty.”

You find yourself smiling back, even as a small voice in the back of your mind whispers that you shouldn’t let your guard down so easily. Not here, not yet.

But something about Reid—his sincerity, the way he tilts his head like he’s trying to solve a puzzle only you can provide—makes it hard to resist.

“So, what brought you to the BAU?” he asks.

The question is simple enough, but the weight behind it is clear. He isn’t just asking out of politeness; he genuinely wants to know. You consider your answer carefully, aware of the dozen eyes that will likely follow your every move today.

“Truthfully? It’s… been a dream for years,” you admit. “I’ve always been fascinated by the psychology of it. How people work, why they do what they do. And... I guess I wanted to make a difference,”

His expression shifts, softens, like you’ve just handed him a piece of yourself and he knows better than to drop it. “That makes sense,” he says quietly. “You’ll be good at this,”

The confidence in his words surprises you. “You don’t even know me,”

“Not yet,” he says, and there’s something almost playful in his tone. “But I’m usually good at reading people. Comes with the job,”

“Any initial impressions?”

He hesitates, and for a moment, you think he might deflect. But then his gaze meets yours again, steady and unwavering. “You’re smart. Observant. But you second-guess yourself more than you need to. And... you’re kind. I think you’ll see things others might miss because of that,”

The honesty in his voice leaves you momentarily speechless. Kind isn’t a word you’d ever considered an asset in this field, but the way he says it makes you wonder if it could be.

“Thanks,” You say, and mean it.

Before he can respond, another voice cuts through the room. “Reid! Stop monopolising the newbie and get over here.”

You glance over to see another man—broad-shouldered, with a gruff boyishness to him. If you had to guess, you’d say that Derek Morgan.

Reid offers a small, apologetic shrug and gives you a quick, almost shy smile before moving to join the others.

As the team gathers around the table, you feel his presence more acutely than you should, like an invisible thread connecting you even when you’re not speaking. Every so often, you catch him glancing your way, his brow furrowing as if he’s trying to figure out a particularly tricky equation. And maybe he is.

Over the course of the day, you learn what makes Reid so extraordinary.

The encyclopaedic knowledge, the way his mind works at lightning speed, piecing together patterns and details that no one else sees.

But you also notice the little things—the way he fidgets with a pen when he’s nervous, the way his voice speeds up when he gets excited, the way he looks at you like you’re the most fascinating mystery he’s ever encountered.

By the time the day ends, you’re exhausted but exhilarated, your head spinning with new information and possibilities. As you gather your things, Reid approaches you again, his movements hesitant but deliberate.

“You did well today,” he says, and there’s no trace of condescension in his tone—just genuine praise.

“Thanks,” you say, feeling a warmth spread through you that has nothing to do with the compliment itself and everything to do with who it’s coming from.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. Then, as if unable to stop himself, Reid blurts out, “You’re going to fit in here. I can tell,”

You tilt your head, studying him. “And you’re sure about that? Already?”

He nods, his gaze earnest. “I don’t know how to explain it. I just... I feel like you belong.”

The words linger between you, heavy with a meaning you can’t quite name. You smile, soft and unsure, and he mirrors it, his expression a little brighter than before.

As you walk out of the building together, the weight of the day finally settling on your shoulders, you can’t help but think that maybe Reid is right.

Maybe you do belong here.

DAY ONE-HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-NINE

The BAU has a way of warping time. Six months can feel like six years, and yet, it can pass in the blink of an eye.

By now, you’ve settled into the team, carving out a place that feels solid, even comfortable. The initial nerves have faded, replaced by a quiet confidence that surprises even you. But the biggest surprise is Reid.

Somewhere along the way, he’s become your constant. Late nights poring over case files often turn into coffee runs, his impossibly detailed book recommendations have all but taken over your nightstand, and your shared chess games have become an unspoken ritual, the board tucked into the corner of the break room practically reserved for the two of you.

It’s not that you don’t notice the way he seems to gravitate toward you—it’s just that you don’t think much of it.

Reid is Reid: attentive, brilliant, and endlessly curious. If he listens a little more intently when you speak, if his smiles linger longer than necessary, if he remembers details you barely recall sharing, well, that’s just how he is. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

The morning starts like any other.

A case has just wrapped, leaving you with a rare, precious day in the office to catch up on paperwork and recover. The bullpen hums with low chatter and the rhythmic tapping of keyboards, but your attention is elsewhere—specifically on the chessboard in front of you.

“Check,” Reid announces, his tone smug but his face a careful mask of neutrality. He leans back in his chair, arms crossed loosely, his expression daring you to find an out.

You narrow your eyes at the board, studying the positions like your life depends on it. “I don’t like you very much right now,” you mutter, earning a soft laugh from him.

“You don’t mean that,” he says, his voice warm.

“Don’t I?” you quip, your fingers hovering over your knight. You’re stalling, and he knows it.

“Take your time,” he says, though there’s a playful glint in his eye. “It’s not like you have anything else to do today.”

You glare at him, but there’s no heat behind it. “You’re enjoying this too much,”

“Maybe a little,”

The banter is easy, familiar. It’s become second nature by now, a rhythm you fall into without thinking. Finally, with a dramatic sigh, you move your knight, narrowly avoiding defeat.

Reid’s brow furrows as he examines the board. “Not bad,” he concedes.

“I’ll take it,” you reply, leaning back in your chair and stretching.

“Lunch?” he asks, already rising to his feet.

“Let me guess,” you say, smirking. “Thai food again?”

“It’s efficient,” he says, as though that explains everything.

“Efficient isn’t the same as exciting,” you tease, but you grab your jacket anyway.

The walk to the nearby restaurant is brisk, the February air biting against your skin. Reid falls into step beside you, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“Did you finish that book I lent you?” he asks, glancing at you.

“Not yet,” you admit. “But I’m close. You were right—it’s better than I expected,”

He grins, and you feel a flicker of satisfaction at the sight. “Told you. It’s all about the narrative structure. Did you notice how the author—”

“Reid,” you interrupt, laughing. “Save the lecture for later. I’m still processing and I have a feeling you’re going to spoil the ending,”

He huffs but lets it go, his grin lingering.

—

Back at the office, you dive into the endless pile of paperwork waiting on your desk. Hours pass in a blur of forms and reports, the steady hum of activity around you lulling you into a comfortable rhythm.

It’s only when a steaming cup of coffee appears in your peripheral vision that you realize how long you’ve been sitting there.

“Thought you could use this,” Reid says, setting the cup down beside you.

You blink up at him, surprised but grateful. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“I know,” he says, his lips twitching into a small smile.

He doesn’t leave, instead pulling a chair up beside you and settling in. For a moment, neither of you speaks, the quiet companionship as natural as breathing.

“You know,” you say, glancing at him, “you don’t have to babysit me.”

“I’m not,” he says simply. “I like being here.”

There’s something in his tone that makes you pause, a softness that feels almost... vulnerable. But before you can dwell on it, he shifts the conversation, asking about your latest case report.

The moment passes, but it stays with you, an echo at the back of your mind.

—

The day winds down with another chess game, this one more competitive than the last. The bullpen has emptied out, the rest of the team long gone, leaving just the two of you and the faint hum of the building’s heating system.

“Checkmate,” Reid announces, his tone triumphant.

You groan, dropping your head onto the table. “I give up. You’re officially unbeatable,”

He laughs, the sound soft and unguarded. “You’re getting better,” he says, and you know he means it.

“Flattery won’t save you next time,” you say, sitting up and meeting his gaze.

His smile falters, just for a moment, and there’s something in his eyes you can’t quite place—something intense and unspoken. You tilt your head, about to ask if everything’s okay, but he looks away, busying himself with packing up the chess pieces.

“Same time tomorrow?” he asks, his voice carefully neutral.

“Of course,” you say, watching him.

As you part ways for the night, that look lingers in your mind, and for the first time, you wonder if there’s more to Reid’s attentiveness than you’ve allowed yourself to see.

DAY TWO-HUNDRED AND FOUR

It starts with the little things.

You notice Reid’s uncanny ability to anticipate your needs long before you voice them. A cup of your favorite tea waiting for you on your desk after a long day.

A book you mentioned in passing, slipped into your bag with a handwritten note on why you’d love it. The way he finishes your sentences, not out of impatience, but because he’s somehow always attuned to what you’re thinking.

It’s Reid being Reid, you tell yourself. He’s observant, that’s his job. It doesn’t mean anything more than that.

But then there are the things he shouldn’t know. Like how your nose crinkles when you laugh too hard, a detail even you hadn’t thought about until you catch him smiling faintly at the sight. Or the way he hums along, almost unconsciously, to the songs you sing under your breath while focused on paperwork.

You’d dismiss it as coincidence, but Reid doesn’t believe in coincidences.

It’s a cold, gray morning when the call comes in—a double homicide in a rural town that has the local police out of their depth. By mid-afternoon, you’re knee-deep in the case, the clues coming together like pieces of a grim puzzle.

You and Reid are tasked with canvassing a suspect’s property, a sprawling, dilapidated farmhouse that creaks ominously with every step. It’s quiet—too quiet—and the sense of unease prickles at the back of your neck.

“I don’t like this,” you mutter, glancing at Reid.

He nods, his hand hovering near his weapon. “Neither do I. Let’s stick together,”

The words are barely out of his mouth when it happens. A figure bursts from the shadows, wielding a machete with reckless desperation.

You react instinctively, your weapon raised, but the suspect moves faster than you expect, slamming into you with full force.

Pain explodes in your side as you hit the ground, the breath knocked from your lungs. Reid’s voice cuts through the chaos, sharp and commanding.

“FBI! Drop the weapon!”

The suspect hesitates for a fraction of a second—just long enough for Reid to act. His shot is precise, disarming but not lethal, and the suspect crumples to the ground, writhing in pain.

Reid is at your side in an instant, his hands trembling as he presses them against the slash on your side, stumbling through the order for a medic on his radio.

“You’re okay,” he says, his voice tight with panic. “You’re going to be okay.”

You manage a weak laugh, wincing at the pain it causes. “You can’t get rid of me that easy, Reid,”

His eyes dart to yours, wide and filled with something that looks an awful lot like fear. “Don’t joke,” he murmurs. “Please don’t joke.”

His hands are gentle but firm as he applies pressure to the wound, his lips moving in a quiet stream of reassurances you barely register. “Just breathe. Help’s on the way. You’re fine. You’re fine.”

The world blurs at the edges, but through it all, you feel him—his presence steady and unyielding, anchoring you to the moment.

DAY TWO-HUNDRED AND SIX

You wake in a hospital bed, the sterile smell of antiseptic filling your nose. It takes a moment for the haze to clear, and when it does, the first thing you see is Reid.

He’s sitting in a chair beside you, his posture stiff, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. He looks exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and his hair messier than usual, but when he notices you stirring, his expression softens with relief.

“You’re awake,” he says, and there’s a faint tremor in his voice.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” you say, your voice hoarse.

His laugh is soft, almost disbelieving. “You have a talent for understatement,”

He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and for a moment, he just looks at you. There’s something in his gaze—something raw and unguarded—that makes your chest tighten.

“I thought—” He stops, swallowing hard. “I don’t know,”

“I’m alright, Reid” You offer gently.

He nods, but his jaw tightens as if he’s holding back a thousand words. “You scared me,” he admits finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

You reach out, your fingers brushing his arm, and the tension in his shoulders eases slightly. “I’m okay,” you say, and though the words feel inadequate, they seem to bring him some comfort.

For the rest of the night, he stays by your side, his quiet devotion more reassuring than any words could be. And for the first time, you start to wonder if there’s more to Reid’s attentiveness than you’ve allowed yourself to see.

DAY TWO-HUNDRED AND THIRTY-SEVEN

The BAU rarely has time for unwinding, but tonight is one of those rare evenings. A case has wrapped early, the unsub is in custody, and Hotch decided to reward the team with a dinner at a cozy Italian restaurant not far from Quantico. The room is filled with laughter, the clink of glasses, and the scent of fresh bread and marinara.

You sit sandwiched between Morgan and Reid, your wine glass half-full and your plate of pasta nearly untouched. The conversation flows easily—Morgan cracking jokes, Garcia spinning outrageous anecdotes, Rossi offering sage commentary.

You chime in when prompted, but your mind is elsewhere, your attention flicking between your teammates and the warm, intimate glow of the restaurant.

It’s when the laughter swells again, this time at something Garcia said, that you notice it.

Reid’s gaze.

He’s looking at you, not laughing, not even smiling, just... looking.

It’s not the way someone glances at a friend or colleague. His eyes hold something deeper, something unspoken but achingly clear. Admiration. Longing. Affection so palpable it steals the breath from your lungs.

The realisation hits you like a freight train, or perhaps a brick to the head, straight into your brain like it’s punishing you.

Every late-night chess game. Every quiet conversation over coffee. The way he remembers the smallest details about you, the warmth in his voice when he says your name, the way his presence feels like a comfort you didn’t know you needed—all of it comes crashing into focus.

How had you missed it?

But the thought doesn’t end there. Because as much as his gaze stirs something in you, it also forces you to confront the ache you’ve felt for months.

The way your chest tightens when he smiles at someone else. The way your pulse quickens when he’s near. The way your stomach flips at the simplest touch—a brush of his hand against yours, his knee grazing yours under the table.

Oh no.

Panic bubbles in your chest, threatening to spill over. You tear your gaze away, your hands fumbling for your wine glass as you take a too-large sip. It does little to steady you.

“Hey,” Morgan says, nudging you lightly with his elbow. “You good? You’ve been quiet,”

“I’m fine,” you say quickly, the words too sharp, too rehearsed.

Morgan raises an eyebrow, but thankfully, Garcia swoops in to demand his attention, sparing you further interrogation.

Beside you, Reid shifts slightly, his knee brushing yours again. The touch is electric, sending a jolt straight to your heart. You chance a glance at him, and for a moment, you think he might say something, but instead, he simply offers you a soft, almost hesitant smile.

It’s that smile—sweet and unguarded—that undoes you.

You force yourself to focus on the chatter around the table, the way Garcia’s voice rises animatedly, the way Rossi’s laughter rumbles like distant thunder.

Anything to keep from drowning in the realisation that Spencer Reid, your closest friend and the person who knows you better than anyone, has somehow become the centre of your world.

And worse—much worse—is the fear that you’ve been blind to his feelings for so long, that your obliviousness might have hurt him in ways you don’t yet understand.

By the time dinner ends, your head is spinning, your chest tight with emotions you don’t know how to name, let alone confront.

As the team begins to gather their things and head for the door, Reid lingers beside you, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “You sure you’re okay?” he asks softly, his voice tinged with concern.

You force a smile, though it feels brittle. “Just tired. Long day,”

He nods, but the worry in his eyes doesn’t fade. “If you need to talk—”

“I’m fine, Reid,” you say, a little too quickly. A little too sharply.

His expression falters, and guilt twists in your stomach. You want to explain, to tell him that your panic has nothing to do with him and everything to do with the fact that you’ve just realised you’re in love with him. But the words stick in your throat, too raw, too terrifying to voice.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you manage, grabbing your coat and heading for the door before he can respond.

As you step into the chilly night air, the weight of your realization settles over you, heavy and inescapable.

You’re in love with Spencer Reid. And you have no idea what to do about it.

DAY TWO-HUNDRED AND FOURTY-TWO

The days that follow are a blur of avoidance and self-doubt. You bury yourself in work, volunteering for extra tasks, lingering at your desk long after everyone else has gone home. When Reid suggests coffee or a quick game of chess, you make excuses—paperwork, errands, a headache.

“It’s not you,” you insist each time, forcing a smile that you hope looks convincing. “Just busy.”

But it is him. Or rather, it’s you. The truth feels too messy, too raw to share. You can’t bear the thought of risking your friendship, of letting your feelings slip and watching the warmth in his eyes dim with awkward discomfort. It’s easier this way, you tell yourself. Cleaner.

It doesn’t feel cleaner. It feels awful.

—

Reid is nothing if not perceptive. You know this, and yet it still catches you off guard when he notices your distance almost immediately.

At first, he’s subtle about it. A furrowed brow when you brush past him in the bullpen without stopping to chat. A quiet “Are you okay?” when you excuse yourself from a team lunch, claiming a nonexistent phone call.

But as the days stretch into weeks, his concern deepens.

One evening, after a particularly grueling case debrief, he approaches your desk with a tentative smile, holding out a steaming cup of your favorite tea.

“Peace offering?” he says lightly.

You glance up, surprised, and for a moment, the warmth in his expression makes your resolve waver. But then the weight of your feelings crashes over you again, and you force a polite but distant smile.

“Thanks, Reid,” you say, taking the cup without meeting his eyes. “But I really need to finish this.”

He hesitates, the smile slipping. “Did I... do something?”

The question hits you like a punch to the gut. You look up, startled, and find him watching you with a mixture of confusion and hurt that makes your chest ache.

“What? No, of course not,” you say quickly, too quickly.

“Then why—” He stops, his hands fidgeting with the strap of his bag. “What’s wrong?”

Your heart sinks. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” you lie, but even as the words leave your mouth, you know he doesn’t believe them.

“Right,” he says softly, his gaze dropping to the floor.

The silence between you stretches uncomfortably, heavy with everything you’re not saying. Finally, he nods, stepping back.

“Okay,” he says, his voice tight. “I’ll… let you get back to work, then,”

As he walks away, a knot of guilt tightens in your chest. You want to call him back, to explain, to apologise, but the words won’t come. Instead, you sit frozen at your desk, watching him retreat with his shoulders slightly slumped, and wonder if you’ve just made the biggest mistake of your life.

—

That night, Reid lies awake, staring at the ceiling of his apartment as your words echo in his mind.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

The lie is so transparent it hurts. He replays every recent interaction, searching for the moment he might have crossed a line, the moment he lost you.

Did he hover too much? Was he too pushy with his invitations? Did he say something wrong?

The thought that he might have ruined your friendship gnaws at him, an ache that refuses to fade. He tries to focus on the logical, the facts: you said he hadn’t done anything.

But facts don’t explain why the laughter in your eyes has dimmed, why the easy rhythm of your friendship has crumbled into awkward silences and forced smiles.

He doesn’t sleep that night, and by morning, he’s no closer to an answer.

But one thing is clear: he can’t lose you. Not like this.

DAY TWO-HUNDRED AND FOURTY-NINE

It’s late when the team finally returns to Quantico, the exhaustion of a long case settling over everyone like a heavy fog. You’re the first to escape the bullpen, eager to retreat to the quiet sanctuary of your apartment. But just as you grab your coat, a voice stops you.

“Can we talk?”

You turn to find Reid standing behind you, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his expression a mix of worry and determination.

“Reid, I’m really tired—”

“Please.” His voice is soft but insistent, his eyes searching yours. “Just a few minutes.”

You hesitate, your instinct to avoid clashing with the ache in his voice. Finally, you nod, letting your coat drop back onto the rack.

He leads you to one of the empty conference rooms, closing the door behind you with a quiet click. For a moment, neither of you speaks, the silence stretching taut between you.

“Did I do something to upset you?” he asks finally, his voice trembling slightly. “Because if I did, I—I don’t know what it was. And I need to know, because you’ve been distant, and I—” He falters, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I miss you.”

The raw honesty in his words nearly undoes you. “Reid...” You take a step back, panic rising in your chest. “You didn’t do anything. I’ve just… been busy.”

“Busy?” he repeats, his voice laced with disbelief. He looks up, and the hurt in his eyes is like a punch to the gut. “That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?”

You stammer, searching for an excuse, but the words feel hollow even as you speak them. “It’s just... work has been overwhelming, and I haven’t had time, and—”

“Stop,” he says softly, cutting you off.

You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I know you,” he says, his voice steady now, though there’s an edge of desperation beneath it. “I know when something’s wrong, and something is wrong. You don’t avoid people because you’re ‘busy.’ You don’t avoid me unless there’s a reason.”

You swallow hard, your throat tight. “I’m not avoiding you—”

“Yes, you are,” he says firmly. He takes a step closer, his expression earnest, pleading. “I just... I need to understand. Did I do something to push you away? Did I say something, or—”

“No!” The word bursts out of you, louder than you intended. You see him flinch slightly, and your resolve crumbles. “No, Reid, you didn’t do anything.”

“Then why?” he asks, his voice breaking. “Why are you pulling away from me?”

His hurt expression cuts you to the core, and for a moment, you consider telling him the truth—laying it all out, messy and terrifying as it is. But fear holds you back, the fear of ruining everything, of crossing a line that can never be uncrossed.

“I can’t,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “I just... I can’t.”

His brow furrows, confusion clouding his features. “Can’t what?”

The question hangs in the air, heavy and unanswerable. You take a shaky breath, forcing yourself to meet his gaze, and what you see there—hurt, confusion, and something deeper, something vulnerable—almost breaks you.

“I’m sorry,” you say softly, the words barely audible. “I’m so sorry.”

And before he can say another word, you turn and walk away, leaving him standing alone in the empty room.

DAY TWO-HUNDRED AND FIFTY-THREE

You don’t even remember the drive to Reid’s apartment. The streets blur past in a haze of headlights and cold January air, your heart pounding like a war drum in your chest.

The weight of your own cowardice has become unbearable. His hurt expression haunts you, replaying over and over, the echo of his words a constant refrain: “Why are you pulling away from me?”

You can’t do this anymore. You can’t keep pretending you’re fine when every moment away from him feels like a slow unraveling.

By the time you reach his door, your nerves are frayed to the breaking point. You hesitate for a moment, your hand poised to knock, before finally forcing yourself to take the leap.

Three short raps echo in the quiet hallway.

The door opens after a moment, and there he is—Spencer Reid, standing in sweatpants and a rumpled t-shirt, his hair slightly disheveled, his expression wary but softening the instant he sees you.

“Hey,” he says, his voice uncertain.

“Hi,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

His brow furrows slightly. “Is everything okay?”

“No.” The word slips out before you can stop it, raw and unfiltered. You take a shaky breath, clutching the strap of your bag like it might anchor you to the moment. “Can I come in please?”

He steps aside immediately, his concern deepening as he watches you.

Once inside, you pace the small living room, your hands trembling, your mind racing. Reid stands by the door, watching you with a mix of confusion and apprehension, his arms crossed loosely over his chest.

“Okay, you’re scaring me a little,” he says gently. “What’s going on?”

You stop pacing, your back to him, and close your eyes for a moment, gathering every ounce of courage you have. When you turn to face him, the words tumble out in a rush.

“I have been avoiding you,”

He knew that. But hearing you say it tears him up just a little.

“because I’m an idiot,” you continue, your voice trembling. “Because I thought it would be easier to push you away than to deal with the fact that I—” You falter, your throat tightening, but you force yourself to continue.

“I’m in love with you, Reid.”

His eyes widen, his lips parting in surprise, but you keep going, afraid that if you stop now, you’ll lose the nerve to finish.

“And I was scared. Scared of ruining our friendship, scared you’d look at me differently, scared of losing you. So I distanced myself, and it was stupid and selfish, and I’m sorry.” Your voice cracks, and you take a shaky step toward him. “I’m so sorry, Spencer.”

For a moment, the silence is deafening. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, just stares at you with an unreadable expression.

“Say something,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “Please?”

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he takes a step toward you. Then another. And another, until he’s standing so close you can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

“I’ve been in love with you since the day we met,” he says softly, his voice trembling with emotion.

Your breath catches in your throat. “What?”

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” he continues, his eyes searching yours. “You’re brilliant and kind and funny, and you make me feel like I’m not... like I’m not so different. I didn’t want to risk losing you, so I kept it to myself, even though it killed me to see you pull away.”

His words hit you like a tidal wave, a rush of relief and disbelief and something achingly tender.

“Spencer...”

He steps closer, his hand lifting to cup your face, his touch impossibly gentle. “You don’t have to be scared anymore,” he whispers. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Before you can respond, he pulls you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you like he’s afraid you might disappear. You bury your face in his shoulder, the familiar scent of him—coffee and faint traces of his shampoo—wrapping around you like a balm.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur against his chest, your voice muffled.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his hands still resting on your arms. “Don’t be,” he says, his gaze soft and unwavering. “We’ve both been scared. But we don’t have to be anymore.”

You nod, a tear slipping down your cheek, and he brushes it away with his thumb, his touch lingering.

“Does this mean I can invite you to coffee again without you running away?” he asks, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

You laugh, the sound shaky but genuine. “Yeah, yeah that’d be nice—”

His smile widens, and before you can overthink it, you lean in and press your lips to his.

The kiss starts tentative, a soft brush of lips, as if both of you are testing the waters, unsure of what to expect after so long of keeping everything bottled up.

But as the seconds pass, as your heart beats faster and your pulse races with the rush of finally having everything laid bare between you, the kiss deepens.

It’s overwhelming, more than you ever imagined. The gentle pressure of his lips on yours sends waves of warmth through you, and it’s as if everything else—everything you’ve been afraid of, everything that’s kept you distant—melts away in that single, perfect moment.

The tension, the months of pining and longing, spill into the kiss, filling the space between you with everything you’ve been holding back.

You slide your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and he responds instantly, his hands moving to your waist, holding you tightly as if he’s afraid this moment might slip away. His lips are soft but eager, the kind of kiss that says everything words couldn’t express.

The world outside this room fades into nothingness—the hum of the city, the quiet night air, the noise of your past self-doubt—all of it is gone. It’s just you and him now, tangled up in each other in a way that feels so natural, so right.

You pull back slightly, breathless, and when you look at him, the expression in his eyes is one of pure awe. He’s looking at you like you’re something he’s dreamed of for so long but never thought he’d get to touch.

“You,” he breathes, his voice barely a whisper, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,”

You laugh softly, still reeling from the intensity of the kiss, the electric feeling of his arms around you. “I think I have some idea,” you say, smiling through the haziness of your emotions. “I’m not that oblivious,”

He smiles, a little sheepishly, and presses his forehead to yours. “Yeah, well… I guess we’re both just really good at pretending.”

“Not anymore,” you say, your voice filled with newfound certainty. “No more pretending. No more running. From now on, it’s just... us.”

Reid’s smile widens, and he nods. His hands move to cup your face, the touch tender, reverent. “I promise,” he says softly. “I promise, I won’t let fear get in the way again,”

You nod, your chest swelling with relief. You feel the same. Fear won’t keep you apart any longer.

The transition from being friends to lovers feels seamless, like something that was always meant to happen but only needed the right moment to click into place.

There’s no awkwardness, no second-guessing. It feels like this was the way things were always supposed to be, as if every conversation, every shared laugh, every moment you’d spent together was building toward this.

“You know,” he says quietly, a hint of playfulness returning to his voice, “I think I’m starting to like this ‘not pretending’ thing.”

You chuckle, your heart full, and pull him into another kiss, this one more relaxed, more comfortable. There’s no rush now—just the simple, perfect feeling of being in his arms, of knowing you don’t have to hide anymore.

When you pull away again, you rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “I love you,” you murmur.

“I love you too,” he replies, his voice a little thick with emotion. “I’ve loved you for so long.”

The words are simple, but they carry the weight of everything you’ve both been through.

And as you stand there in his arms, the world outside his apartment feels like a distant memory, something far away that no longer matters. All that matters is the feeling of being together, of stepping into the future with him, side by side. No more fear. No more distance. Just you and him.

DAY TWO-HUNDRED AND FIFTY-SIX

Returning to work after that night feels surreal, like stepping into a world that’s familiar but somehow brighter, sharper. Everything feels new, but also so wonderfully right.

The team notices almost immediately. They’re profilers, after all.

It starts with the little things—your hand brushing against Spencer’s as you both reach for the same file, the soft, shared smiles exchanged across the bullpen, the way you instinctively gravitate toward him during team meetings.

Morgan’s eyebrows shoot up the first time he catches Spencer stealing a glance at you, his expression so openly fond it borders on dreamy.

“Something you want to tell us, Pretty Boy?” Morgan teases one morning as Spencer sits at his desk, clearly distracted.

Spencer startles, his ears turning red as he fumbles with his pen. “I—uh, no, nothing.”

From her desk, Garcia narrows her eyes suspiciously, then looks at you, her gaze bouncing between the two of you like she’s connecting the dots. “Wait a second. Are you two—?”

“We’re not talking about this,” you say quickly, though the smile tugging at your lips betrays your attempt at sternness.

“Oh, we will talk about this,” Garcia says, grinning triumphantly. “Just as soon as I gather my emotional support snacks.”

Hotch and Rossi, ever the professionals, don’t comment, but the knowing looks they exchange speak volumes.

So does the HR form that magically appears on your desk the same afternoon.

DAY TWO-HUNDRED AND SIXTY-THREE

A quiet afternoon, as the team prepares for a lull between cases, Spencer walks into the bullpen holding a carefully wrapped package. The sight of him—nervously shifting from foot to foot, his hair slightly mussed, his tie askew—makes your heart ache in the best way.

“Hey,” he says softly, approaching your desk.

“Hey,” you reply, setting aside the file you’ve been working on. “What’s that?”

He holds out the package, his fingers brushing yours as you take it. “It’s for you,” he says, a little shyly. “I’ve had it for a while, but… I was waiting for the right moment,”

Curiosity piqued, you carefully unwrap the package, your breath catching when you see what’s inside: a first-edition copy of a book you’d mentioned offhandedly months ago, a rare find you never thought you’d own.

“Spencer,” you breathe, running your fingers reverently over the worn leather cover. “This is—this is incredible.”

He shrugs, his cheeks flushing pink. “I remembered how much you loved it, and, well… I wanted you to have it,”

You stare at him for a moment, overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness of the gesture, by the quiet devotion it represents. Setting the book aside, you rise from your chair and step closer to him.

“Thank you,” you say, your voice soft but filled with emotion.

Before he can respond, you lean in and kiss him, your hands resting gently on his shoulders. It’s not your first kiss, but it feels just as electric, just as full of promise.

When you pull back, his eyes are bright, his smile soft and radiant. “I think I like this ‘new chapter’ we’re in,” he says quietly, his voice tinged with affection.

“Me too,” you reply, your heart swelling as you brush a stray curl from his forehead.

As you return to your desk, the book resting on the corner like a talisman of everything you’ve built together, you steal another glance at him.

He’s already immersed in his work, his brow furrowed in concentration, but when he catches you looking, he smiles—one of those rare, unguarded smiles that makes your chest ache with how much you love him.

This is where I’m supposed to be, you think. And Spencer would agree.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #mgg #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst

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ghast1yghosts · 2 days ago

Text

nsfw ish

steddie fuckin on a canvas using body safe paints.

it hangs in the living room above the couch. & as much as it makes them giggle and give each other a /look/ when someone compliments it—it’s also really special bc it’s literally representing their love & devotion

imagine the first time they pick like purple and yellow to use and it just turns fucking brown. they’re more strategic in their choices next time.

(maybe like blue and pink—maybe some black. no red for obvious reasons)

i feel like they do it all the time after they figure out how fun it is. most of their wall art becomes handmade /abstract/.

them trying to gift Robin one as a house warming gift and she outright REFUSES (bc she knows) and everyone is like “thats so mean wth 🤨”

THE PARTY BEING CONFUSED WHEN LUCAS AND MAX MOVE AND THEY DON’T GET A “STEVE AND EDDIE ORIGINAL”

they hold an intervention and all leave staring at the floor, tempted to never talk to either of them again.

eventually they get over it and actually think it’s kinda cute (if they don’t think about it for long).

wait- the party then asking them to make one for Hopper as a gag- (the byers/hop clan are out numbered). Hopper not caring much about it and Joyce /knowingly/ winking and hanging it up for a few weeks—she then returns it to them (maybe she even asks where they got the paint).

anyways—the showers that happen after. gently washing the other with the utmost care and attentiveness. little chaste kisses as the water turns cool. soft touches as they dry off together too.

maybe they do try red paint one time. its fine but then it’s suddenly not. the paint all the sudden too dark, too tacky. seemingly more and more spreads onto their hands & the canvas. Steve notices Eddie tense before he takes in the color too.

them immediately pressing their foreheads together—whispering quiet “it’s ok—you’re ok—i’m ok.” shakily walking to the bathroom—clinging to each other—having to close their eyes or stare deeply at the other to ignore the way the red paint swirls down the drain all too familiar.

i made it sad. why did i make it sad

nsfw ish again

ok consider—them dressing up all nice too in lingerie and stuff. having to throw them out afterwards bc they’re now drenched in dried paint.

if some of the colored spots are mascara, eyeliner or lipstick—no one’s the wiser.

#steddie #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington #steve x eddie #archive #drabble #my writing #steddiensfw #but not really #fav ideas #4-17-2023

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zorange13 · 3 days ago

Text

— love island, enhypen edition

— enha as islanders x afab reader (maknae line) | hyung line

so grateful for all of the love on the hyung line version. i love all of you and i hope you liked this one just as much. i suffered a bit of writer's block while writing this. but we persevere!!

warnings/content. suggestive content, sigh…i got carried away on like all of these, misunderstanding trope (it’s not that bad i promise), slowburn, i watched to all the boys i’ve loved before and ever after high while writing this (so healing), not much just love island stuff, no casa amor for riki’s tho (don’t hate me, i just didn’t think it was necessary)

not proofread, bro i gotta start doing that omg

word count. 6.3k

inspired by the aot edition written by @rynfiles !!

Jungwon 양정원

not the eldest (duh), he is kinda the dad out of the group

also an og

wins a lot of fans over by his cute, boyish looks (ofc)

and don’t let him smile, omg THE DIMPLES????? yeah.

also another that people go to for advice for

but somehow the girls there don’t go for him because he seems to be too cute

like, he’s one of the younger ones there and most of the girls preferred the older, more experienced guys

the girls took care of him and almost babied him

to which he would never reject the attention of beautiful women!! (duh) but he didn’t want pity

so it kinda balances out in a way

even though he is such a worrywart, he does in fact know how to have fun and enjoys cracking jokes, playing lil innocent pranks, and having lil dance parties

bc it’s not like yall have your phones

anyways

you were not an og so…a bombshell lmao

and needless to say, you had such a huge wall up and didn’t know how to even handle men after your last relationship

you had been cheated on…baddd

and coming on this show was just something that you didn’t think much into but one day you auditioned and never looked back

the producers said something about you would make good tv

so why not?

you came in during week 3!!

at this point, won was coupled up with one of the og girls

but it wasn’t really going anywhere and that was ok!!

you came in, not really expecting much

but the great thing was that you were like the only girl that was jungwon’s age

so immediately his head was turnt

the prods did that dumb thing where they have you go on a date with all of the guys to see which one you like more

basically you sit at a table and the guys just kind of microwave their ways from the table to wherever they came from

but ngl…none of them were your type like

jake…hot asf but eh

sunoo…stunning but he was too cute

heeseung…just no lmao

jay…that’s just the bro ngl

riki…yes!! but oh…he’s too young for your liking

so nothing really stuck

UNTIL!!

mr. yang jungwon sat across from you

he was also very hot and very cute

but still…you couldn’t show your cards yet like

you had to be a lil mysterious

“hi y/n, im jungwon” he stuck his hand out waiting for your handshake, waiting to sit

to which you liked, all the other dudes just sat down and waved or kissed you on the cheek before they sat

none of them bothered you, it was just nice that jungwon wanted your respect first

the date was genuinely fun!!

you didn’t think that you and him would have that much in common

from what you saw before you came in, he was such a dad

he was the type to serve himself last when they made dinner

the type to make sure the girls put on their sunscreen before their makeup

just very considerate and selfless

almost too much at times

because then he’d find that his food would either be cold

or that he wouldn’t get the portion or piece he wanted

or when he wanted the girls to put on their sunblock, he’d forget to put his on

and would have to get aloe from one of their bags

you, however, did not gaf

you didn’t care to step on toes

you didn’t care to hurt feelings or set boundaries bc you’ve spent so long trying to make others in your life feel comfortable

why?? bc why would you watch everyone around you get what they want except for you? no. (real shit)

selfishness isn’t terrible all the time

so after the date with jungwon, you honestly did enjoy his presence

and vice versa for him so you ended up chatting a lot more

and you guys actually ended up bonding over his current need to people please

and where you lied now with that

“idk, i just feel like i should always look out for people. it’s just how i was raised.”

“yeah, that’s great but when do you ever get what you need? you can’t pour from an empty cup, you know?”

he frowned, not from sadness but it more so exhibited thought. “i guess i’ve never thought of it like that. i just like to feel useful…i feel like when everyone is good then so am i.

you smiled faintly, “nothing’s wrong with that at all, won. but if it’s at the expense of your own happiness or skimming your wants and needs, then that’s a problem. i’ve been there.”

“really?” he said, genuinely curious. “what happened?”

now you’re kinda mad you even let yourself get this comfortable with him this fast

but this was a time where you had to let yourself be vulnerable

i mean you did sign up for a dating show like cmon

“well…” you sighed, “my last relationship ended about a year and a half ago, and it was pretty rocky. i just thought i was doing everything right, like i was rearranging my schedule to see him. i used to write down everything that he told me that was worth remembering in case i wanted to surprise him with a gift. i’d even bite my tongue when something upset me because i didn’t want to make him upset. now that i think of it, i felt like i was just trying to shrink myself into this little box of what i felt love was and what he wanted me to be or something. but i equated his love to my worth and then my worth to how useful i was to people.”

he let you express yourself but as you did, he slid his hand across the couch cushion where your hand was. though he hesitated, not knowing if you were comfortable

you saw this and decided to be bold and inch your hand forward as well

his ears perked up at the sensation but before he could get totally flustered he spoke up, “so what made you guys break up?”

you smiled bitterly, “he cheated,”

“that’s awful, i’m so sorry. truly, you didn’t deserve that.” anger, then sadness flickered in his eyes

“i know that now, but the best things that i learned was one: never love a man more than he loves me. then two: selfishness and self-preservation isn’t so bad.”

“this is pretty hard for me to hear, but also i think i needed to hear it”

you scooted a little closer to him, “well, you have a cute girl sitting right here with more than enough selfishness to spare. maybe some of it will rub off on you.”

that had to be one of the most cathartic conversations you’ve both had

but from there, he actually started to do for himself more

he wouldn’t wait for everyone to get their food first

he made sure to put his sunblock on

and now the only other thing that he wanted to worry about now was you

bringing you breakfast, water, making you food when you were hungry in the middle of day, massaging you when you slept funny

in turn, ironically enough you started to do more for the friends you’ve made

you did more favors, said yes but only because you wanted to

you both brought out great things in the each other and it showed

you came in very guarded

but now you were like a butterfly, wearing brighter colors, your natural hair, you didn’t put on as much makeup as before, you laughed more than you have in a long time

all of those things were amazing, putting effort into yourself and looking nice

but you started to feel like your old self and you were gonna embrace for now

you spent more time doing the other girl’s hair and makeup and that was the most fun!!

you and jake’s girl developed a close friendship too!!

when casa came, you also left him a note!!

“ok so i totally left but it’s only for a little bit, i promise!! take care of yourself while i’m out, ok? please promise me, i know i’m not actually there to see you make the promise but i trust you did lmao. don’t miss me too much, or do, because i’ll definitely be missing you. you’re my won and only. love, y/n”

his heart BURST

especially at that last part, so creative it wasn’t like he’s heard that one before

he holds up at casa

still, he’s just being himself

there was one girl in particular that was very into him

she didn’t come on too strong…

i lied i'm sorry she did

but he kept it respectful though!!

you know…arms length

he did genuinely like you and just wasn’t feeling it with the casa girl

he told her, literally right after rejecting her with a smile, “you’re a beautiful girl but my connection is depending on me and i’m doing the same with her. i just wanna make sure i’m doing what’s best for me and her.”

very cut and dry, straight to the point!!

until it wasn’t????

over at the villa, the girls received that godforsaken video of what the boys have been up to

all of the girls were in shock and jaws agape at what they were seeing

when it got to jungwon, all you saw was him and the girl sitting down one of the couches

that wasn’t pleasant to see but whatever

then he sat there, marvelous dimples on display and said, “you’re a beautiful girl, i just wanna make sure i’m doing what’s best for me…”

you were not only, confused but totally shocked

fans hateddd that the prods tried to sabotage like that!!

you’ve made it clear to him what you’ve been through and this was a little more than hurtful

the whole environment was a damn mess like

some of the girls were crying because their guys weren’t acting right, others were confused

the casa boys tried to help and support the girls but like ew get away we don’t know you wtf

when jungwon came back, you tried to give him the benefit of the doubt

but you were just so withdrawn

at the recoupling he didn’t bring anyone back which surprised you

when asked how you felt about it, you didn’t really have an answer

as days passed and you kept looking at jungwon, it was a reminder of the person you were a year and a half ago

he was tired of it and finally sat you down

“you were flirting with her, won”

“what?” his brows furrowed, he looked at you like you just said the most ridiculous thing in the world

“you said something about the girl being beautiful and that you’re gonna do what’s best for you.” rolled your eyes

he shook his head in disbelief, as in he was genuinely confused. “i never said that, wait no. i said that but that wasn’t what i said.”

after grabbing your given phone, seeing as you’re the one who it was sent to (conveniently), you both watched the video and jungwon legit burst out laughing

“ok, so they totally twisted the entire thing. what i said was something along the lines of—”

you cut him off, avoiding his eyes. “don’t lie, bro. if you liked the girl then that’s—”

“i don’t even know her! if i liked her i would’ve brought her back.”

“ok so if that was the case then what about me? what if you did like her then what was i supposed to do?”

“you know that’s not fair…”

you leaned back into the chair and huffed, folding your arms. “what did you say?”

“i said that our connection is strong and i want to do what’s best for me and you. i rejected her, i said i didn’t want her.”

you frowned, “i don’t believe you”

he knew you had trust issues, and understandably so. but with that all he could do was sigh, “i get it, you don’t trust me right now and i don’t blame you. that video was crazy but i swear to you—i never even considered her.”

you stayed quiet, folding your arms

he leaned forward, trying to bridge the gap

“what i said was, ‘i’m trying to do what's best for me and her.’ as in, us.” he gestured between you two

“so why even say that? why was it even twisted?”

“because i wanted to make it clear that i wasn’t wavering.” his tone soft, yet firm. “i wanted het to know she didn’t even have a chance. i was..i was hoping that you’d believe enough in me to see that.”

“it’s not just about believing you, won. it’s about what i saw with my eyes and heard with my ears. and it just reminded me of the shit that i wanted to leave behind.”

he leaned back with a sigh, “i didn’t come back to fight with you. i came back because i chose you. and i will keep choosing you, but you gotta trust me.”

“ok”

“ok?” he reached over to you to pull you in for a hug

but you stopped him before he could, “ok. just don’t let anything like this happen again. seriously.”

he nodded, “i promised and i’m gonna keep myself to it. i’m all in with you, baby and i will always choose you.” and you guys shared a gentle kiss

spoiler alert: he kept his promise!!

final 4!!

your last date was a picnic in a hidden garden, with fairy lights, a starry night, with a beautiful guitarist there to play cute mood music

his final speech: “when i came into this, i was so focused on making everyone happy that i lost sight of what really mattered. but with you, i learned that taking care of myself isn't selfish—it’s necessary. and you… you’ve shown me that it’s okay to do things for others, to give more than i ever thought i could. i know trust hasn't come easy for you. you’ve had to fight for it, and i’ve seen that. but i want you to know, the trust we’ve built, it means everything to me. it's not just about what we say; it’s what we’ve shown each other, day by day, that proves we’ve got something real. i don’t want to pretend i’ve got everything figured out, but i do know one thing: i’ve never felt this way before. and i want to keep building with you—slowly, carefully, but always toward something more.”

even though won was so beloved, you were the favorite between you both!!

“seeing her grow has been everythinggg” “they are so black cat and golden retriever” “love a good he fell first and harderrr” “these are my winners idc”

the prods hated that you guys were so loved

Sunoo 김선우

lowkey can see him as the host LMAOO

like he would be asking all the burning questions

instigating

rolling his eyes at all the dumbasses in the villa

but as a contestant

he’d be a bombshell

i just see him being so sweet (i mean he alr is from my assumptions)

he gives me the couple that partners up like day one and stays solid through the rest of the show

everything about him is just very lighthearted like he’s just there to have fun!!

but when he sees you he’d know that he’d want you

this might sound crazy but just looking at all the other girls repulses him (love them tho!)

he makes it clear that he’s into you and honestly it kinda makes you…teehee

as he continues his journey in the villa he’s adopted as the sweetheart™

everyone goes to him when they wanna vent and just need a listening ear.

another fan favorite: “bro where did they find this man” “OMGG a man that doesn’t play games and is actually not a literal pos ?/??//?? no way” “i need a man like sunoo in ways that are concerning to mankind”

you and him were talking at the beanbags one day and you were asking him why he seemed like he was too good to be true

“you just slept a lot”

“what does that mean?”

“because i’m the man of your dreams, so you like…manifested me”

you laughed, “shut up” you threw a loose pillow at his head

y’all would be like the boring couple

like gtfoh no one wants to see you two being IN LOVE

WE WANT DRAMA

it’s weird tho bc even tho y’all have been so solid, america kinda doesn’t believe you two

kinda like kendall and nicole like it just felt artificial

you would take losing challenges kinda hard because you were competitive

sunoo, however, didn’t care but he cared because you did, they were just dumb challenges

were y’all in it for the money or…?

but there was genuine love between you two and it was weird when y’all were voted the fakest girl and guy

it just didn’t make sense, but maybe it was the editing of the show?

til this day you’re like 90% sure the prods sabotaged but it’s ok!!

he just looked at you with so much admiration

he’d help you with your hair if you needed it (only in the event that you were the last girl to get ready or if you were just moving extra slow)

he brought your breakfast like clockwork

he was there if you needed literally anything like it’s insane

when you girls had to leave for casa he was heartbroken

but fortunately, you did leave a note for him!!

“hi baby!! a part of me feels like you’re gonna be hurt to read this but still we all had to go. i can’t wait to get back to you so we can catch up, i know it’s only gonna be a few days but you know how that feels like forever here. but still, all i’m gonna say is don’t be weird, use your best judgment, and make sure no one bugs out if you can help it. i’ll do the same. i left you a little keepsake, i’ll see you when i get back, precious!”

it’s so bittersweet because he loves the note and it’s like he can hear your voice as he reads it

but that’s the problem, he wishes you were actually here

but he looks across your vanity to see you left him his favorite perfume of yours in a sample just for him

would spray it on him and even spray it on the bed

when the casa girls came he was nice

it made him sick to his stomach to see another girl sitting at your spot on the vanity table but he knew it was temporary (unless she was picked)

he kept it cute

unfortunately some of the other guys didn’t so he knew recoupling was gonna be a bloodbath

heeseung acting like an asshole

jake doing God knows what

sunoo kinda hated everything that came with love island

you, alongside the friends that he’s made, were the only truly enjoyable things that came with the experience

the useless drama gave him migraines

you ended up coming back with no one and he did the same

it was a happy night for you two

he hated seeing the girls upset, as did you

but y’all were lowkey eating up the drama lmao

you guys didn’t make it to the final 4

you guys just barely made it in the votes

like out of the final 4, you guys were like 5th

tears

straight EMOTIONAL TEARS

the couples that were left didn’t want to see you guys go

you guys were beloved still by fans

fans didn’t believe in you guys until this moment

they were kinda sad that they didn’t bet on you guys earlier

but you and sunoo didn’t gaf about the money or clout that you gonna get after

all that you needed were each other

Riki 西村力

he auditioned as a joke lmao

he was not betting on making it but when he got the email that was gonna be a contestant, he was shocked

but again, he’s young and turnt so why not

yolo yk?

riki was the youngest boy in the villa (og)

in general he wasn’t that experienced

he’s only ever had one girlfriend in comparison to the others

it didn’t take much for him to realize that

the girls that came in were all older than him and going for the older guys

but it didn’t take a blow at his pride

personally, he doesn’t find the appeal in women that were so much older

like they’re paying bills and he just graduated like

they have nothing in common

but as a person, he got comfortable with the other islanders very quickly and learned a lot about what women do and don’t like from the older sisters in the villa (kinda like bergie from s5)

“yes, riki, you have to flirt. pursue, you’re a man now. most girls will only take initiative to a certain extent, the rest is on you.”

“i know but…how?”

just asking questions, figuring things out blah blah

his relationship with the guys is still very much younger brother

they also give him advice on girls

it’s terrible but he makes note of it so he knows what to and what not to do

he plays stupid pranks on everyone to kill time

but after a while it gets boring when he sees everyone paired off and he’s kinda just…there

but never fear!!

he’s surprised the prods actually like him enough to send him a girl his age

well actually it wasn’t the prods it was the fans that begged for him to have someone (not like he knew that)

“he’s so young, y’all are dead wrong for not having girls his age” “poor riki :( he’s so lonely” “love island plz cast me”

when you walked in, of course he knew you were stunning

i mean, look at you!! just his type

so naturally, all of the islanders were interrogating you at the firepit

“so, y/n, what’s your type?”

you smiled, a little flustered but expecting it. “tall, funny, i like them slim, but like muscular? so i’d say lean?? yeah, lean is the right word. also funny, exciting! i never like to be bored.”

everyone laughed, “well you don’t have to worry about that here, trust.” [sunoo’s girl] said

“i know, i’ve been watching y’all” you say with a playful lilt

heeseung tilts his head, “really? so, who do you have your eyes on right now?”

what a flirt i stg

you smiled, “not you”

to which that elicited a few laughs from the others, as well as him. “no seriously, anyone here catch your eye?”

you look to the boy sitting a few people down from you, “him”

he was dazed, half listening, and staring blankly at the wooden deck beneath his feet

the only thing that caught his attention was the fact that everyone was looking at him and that you called him out

“me?” he said, with some excitement

you nodded reciprocating, “yeah!”

jake intervened, “wait, how old are you?”

“riki’s age”

the islanders, sans you and riki, all ooooh’d and ahhhh’d

[jake’s girl] grabbed your arm, locking hers with yours. “that’s so cute, well, we’ll leave you guys to it. you know, gotta give them space.” she looked around at everyone else with wide, indicative eyes.

they all took hints and left, leaving you two just sitting there awkwardly

and i can’t say that y’all eventually found a groove because…you didn’t

it was so painfully awkward

it’s like all of those things that the girls spoke to him about just…left

but also when he would bring up things to talk about or would ask to see if you shared any interests, nothing clicked

“so do you like music?”

you smiled, “yeah…well who doesn’t like music?”

and vice versa

“do you like to watch tv?”

“of course,”

“cool! do you like anime?”

your shoulders slump, “i’ve tried to watch it, but i can’t seem to get into it. i watched the first season of hunterxhunter and—”

he laughed, “that’s because it’s hxh, that show is…strange. you gotta watch shit like death note, naruto–”

you groaned, “bro that show is mad long”

“you just need to skip all the filler episodes”

you stared at him blankly, “if i need a whole strategy guide to get through it, i’m not watching it”

“it’s a classic!”

wait…i take it back

there was SOMETHING

but somehow even after all of that he couldn’t get any further than just physical attraction

like he knew you were gorgeous but something about you felt dull

like there was nothing you guys had in common

a few days passed, but nothing.

and you both tried so hard

riki felt so attracted to you, i’ve said it before and i’ll keep saying it

however, nothing stuck and it was really disappointing

you felt similarly so you were on the same page

however, you still didn’t see the appeal in dating anyone so much older

so in some way, riki was like all you had

and you hated the idea of using someone for convenience or obligation

you wanted to want him and for it to be real

in a confession, riki says, “it sounds so shallow to say this but, she checks off all of my boxes. stunning, 10/10. but i feel like nothing’s landing with us, you know? i want to get to know her but i feel like we’re just forcing it. and i don’t want her to feel like she has to settle for me either.”

fans felt him, but still just wanted you guys to work because they saw the potential!!

“but they look so good together!!” “a part of me is sad that there’s nothing there, but another part is kinda glad that riki is getting a taste of what love island and dating is like. it’s good for him.”

so one night, you guys sat down and things finally came to a head

you guys were alone, all the other islanders kinda scattered throughout the villa and the yard space

“i’m just gonna be honest because i feel like you deserve that.”

he nodded curtly, waiting for you to finish, already anticipating what was coming

“i just don’t think this is working—and it’s not you! i just feel like we’re trying too hard. like you’re everything and more. funny, you’ve been really nice, you’re attractive, but i just feel like we’re missing something.”

there was a beat of silent but then his shoulders settled

riki smiles, “it’s ok, i’ve been feeling the same way,”

your eyes bulged, “wait you too! omg, this sounds terrible but i’m so relieved wtf.”

you both shared a laugh

you were both glad that the pressure to perform for one another was alleviated

since then, things have been ok!!

you did couple up with each other

mainly for the convenience, and you liked each other enough to not want the other to leave

you guys are hilarious and are sort of the comedic duo of the villa

you guys are kids in comparison to rest so…very childish

but not in an annoying way!!

sort of like spongebob and patrick

ok they’re annoying…

but THEY ARE FUNNY

you both express these feelings in confessionals:

riki: “since we talked about it, it feels different…like in a good way! there’s no pressure and we just vibe now, and i’d like to get to know her for real this time. i feel like i only know her on a friend level, which is nice. i want a friend first you know?”

you: “ok, so why is riki actually funny…? i’m honestly not sure how i missed all of those things the first time around. i feel like i was trying too hard to see if we’d work out and it’s made me miss all of the things that make him fun to be around.”

nonetheless the fans ate up yalls dynamic

but they were still skeptical like…

“...are we sure they’re just not too comfortable? i mean like i love their vibe but WE NEEDD THE ROMANCE” “my besties to lovers slowburn senses are tingling…” “i feel like they’re gonna realize they’re perfect for each other after all omggg”

the islanders couldn’t STAND yall omg

sabotaging challenges

messing up relay races

“you guys gotta stop plotting against us during these challenges” jake groaned as he wrung out his soaked tank top

“it’s just strategy, jakey” you and riki high five, as you then double over laughing

to which he watches you with a smile

but eventually…cracks started to show

when the nights were extra breezy and your dress didn’t cover you up that well, he gave you his jacket

he brought you breakfast every day and made sure jay didn’t put too much or too little of anything in or on whatever you wanted to eat

the way your smile lingered a little too long when he was teasing you

but of course, there’s cameras and fans see it!!

“bro they’re literally falling in love rn and they DONT EVEN KNOW IT” “this feels like the friends to lovers arc i didn’t know i needed” “riki’s smile when she was laughing???? yeah he’s gone”

and don’t kill me

but riki didn’t even peep his feelings until the godforsaken heart rate challenge

you dressed up as a referee: black and white striped crop top, low rise shorts, knee length socks, some cute converse, and of course a whistle

nothing too scandalous!!

you guys are young so no one is expecting a lot from either of you. it’s weird almost, you guys are like the little brother and sister to everyone

so you didn’t do anything extreme, just some funny one-liners.

until you got to riki…

saving the best for last, you sauntered toward him

the boys ooooo’d and playfully punched him; just guy stuff. gross.

anyways!!!

you flung the string of you whistle around his neck and pulled him closer to you as you got on your knees in front of him

and said, “i think you’re my biggest rule breaker,”

not only were you pulling him physically, you were pulling him in every other way possible

his eyes physically couldn’t leave yours

his heart was beating out of his chest and you hadn’t even really touched him

you pulled him in with your laugh

you pulled him in with your silly little remarks and jabs

and now you were pulling him in with this cheap ass whistle

he smiles, as awestruck as can be, “what rule did i break?”

“you stole my heart”

you’ve never been this bold before

but you did pull him closer, whistle string still around his neck and now his eyes low. almost intoxicated by you

“and you got mine”

wait you didn’t think he’d respond RIGHT THERE ??? WAIT

luckily no one else heard exactly what he said

but you’re like 80% y’alls mics picked it up

STILL so corny, so cheesy, but oh so true

you ended up racing his heart the most!! (duh)

after everything, you guys ended up debriefing…

you guys sat down at the dock and sort of were reliving the chaos that just left you both

then when it got to you, “oh i didn’t know you even had that in you” he lightly hit your knee

you grabbed his hand as you laughed, completely oblivious to the tingling feeling in your stomach

“me neither! i mean it was crazy!! i’ve never been stared at for so long before”

“it was well deserved, especially what your ass put me through!”

you kinda gagged at that, some idiotic part of you was hoping that he just forgot or MAYBE wouldn’t mention it. thus, you ignored what he said and hoped he wouldn’t repeat it.

if you ignore it, it will go away

“do you really think i stole your heart?” he asked

“don’t bring that up! i was just trying to win the game”

he sucked his teeth, rolling his eyes, “shut up! you meant that shit, and i meant what i said too”

you looked around, “you’re serious?”

he nodded, reaching for your hand. “as a heart attack.”

your breath caught for a moment, and you weren’t sure what to say

your relationship with riki had been so playful and friendly (as far as you know it) for as long as you met him

yes, you meant what you said in the challenge but there really isn’t much you guys had in common.

i mean, you guys tried to find commonalities and things to bond over and it didn’t go anywhere

“that’s great, riki. but i just don’t want this to end up like how it was before. like it was so awkward and weird and i don’t want this to ruin us.”

his thumb brushed against your hand, sending sparks through it, “believe me, i know,” he snickered. “but this feels different now though, doesn’t it? i think so.”

you leaned back in thought, “it does, i…like the way this feels. but what if we mess this up again? what if we get—i just don’t want us to not be us again.”

he scoots a little closer to you, your legs now touching. his grabs your leg and placed it over his lap. “then let’s keep it simple,”

you were a little startled by the intimacy but you maintained your cool when you saw that knowing, gentle smile play on his lips. “simple?”

“yeah,” his hand rested lightly on your shin. “think about it, we tried to be romantic without even knowing each other. now, i know you. i know you more than anyone i’ve known ever. even all 20 of your favorite colors. your favorite rom-coms, i even know your skincare routine in order.” he laughed, “at this point, nothing can bring us back to that.”

“and if it does?” you asked softly, eyes now meeting his own.

his hand slowly moved up and down your shin. “then break my heart. break it into a million pieces.”

your ears perked up, “wait–you watched–you’re so lame! you watched to all the boys and didn’t even—”

he laughed, “shut up,” before he rested his hand on your cheeks and pulled you into the sweetest kiss you’d ever imagined

maybe being with riki didn’t seem so impossible after all

fans loved you guys!!

“i just love the childlike innocence that they bring to the sluttery of his show” “just a breath of fresh air honestly” “THE SLOW BURN BURNED I TOLD YALL”

y’all made it to the final 4!!

the final date was something simple; honestly you both appreciated something chill in contrary to the hooliganism that you guys underwent everyday

the prods set up a stunning outdoor setup: a cozy blanket laid out in the middle of a private field with fairy lights strung on nearby trees, a telescope angled at the sky, and a basket of their favorite snacks.

ooh! and there was a special smores kit right next to card decks.

playing cards, uno (you both avoided that one; no need to start arguing on a date), truth or dare

but his final speech, brace yourself:

“coming into this, i didn’t think i’d get attached to anyone. i thought it’d be fun, a chance to just...be myself and enjoy the ride. and for a while, it was just that. but then,” he paused, looking directly at you “you came along. and everything changed. at first, i thought we couldn’t be more different. we didn’t even make sense on paper, like literally the only thing that we had in common was our age. but then you started pulling me in—in every way possible. your laugh, your little comments, the way you carried yourself. i was hooked before i even realized it. and yeah, it wasn’t perfect, we had our awkward moments. but every time, we found our way back to something real. something i didn’t know i needed until it was right in front of me. i know i joke around a lot, but when i think about what you’ve given me—your time, your patience, your trust—it’s not something i take lightly. you’ve made me want to be better, not just for you, but for myself. so, if i’ve learned anything from this experience, it’s that love isn’t about finding someone who fits into your life perfectly or someone who likes everything you do. it’s about finding someone who just gets you and someone you’re willing to do things for. all because they’re worth it— and you’re so, so worth it. every awkward moment, every stupid rom-com i watched secretly because i knew you liked it, every marshmallow i burned trying to impress you. all of it. so, whether we win or not tonight, i already know what i’ve gained. you’re my best friend, now lover. you’re my world now, i love you, and i’ll do whatever i need to, to make sure that you’re reminded of it everyday.”

we all know who ended up winning

but still you guys are so beloved

and you even brought a younger audience to love island!!

granted you guys are so happy and get a ton of opportunities now

you’re a brand ambassador for your favorite clothing brand

riki and you also have your own brand deals together and those photoshoots are so much fun!!

you guys also stream and crash out over cod and fortnite together

couples that crash out together, stay together <3

taglist: @brxght-world @aruumyne @cara9065

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #kpop x black reader #enhypen fic #niki x reader #kpop #sunoo x reader #jungwon x reader

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multiheadcanons · 1 day ago

Text

MEMES AND TRAITS THE MERCS STOLE FROM SCOUT AND POORLY USE TO PISS HIM OFF

soldier: soldier started calling everything a “glizzy” after he heard scout say it exactly once. he was eating a hot dog and said “damn this glizzy is perfectly dressed.” he did not get it, he did not care enough to ask what that meant. he just started calling everything a glizzy. rockets? glizzy. ammo? glizzy. the medigun, fully charged and primed for an ubercharge? “HIT ME WITH THAT GLIZZY, DOC!” this was the beginning of the end with scout, once he got past the white knuckled shock of hearing that man say glizzy way too many times to the wrong things.

pyro: pyro eats up a whip and nae nae, no lie. they saw scout do it after a successful push of the payload, and everyone looked at scout weird, but pyro registered that smile, and those movements and committed it to heart. on the next battle, pyro physically dragged scout to a location near the edge of the map, and made a motion to stay still and watch. it freaked scout out until pyro air blasted one, two, three, four of the opposing team off the map; and after the fourth’s screams were cut short from hitting the bottom; they turned slowly to scout, and hit a whip. it’s the only time scout actually laughed. “yeah, get that shit pyro!”

demo: everything scout knows demo knew well before him, it just never came through right with his accent. but when scout started dapping people up demo was ALL IN for that. always brings scout in way too hard and knocks the wind out of him and stings his hands. “you’re not doing it right, lad! like this!” scout never wants to complain because it feels cool to get dapped up by someone he also thinks is cool, though he doesn’t want to admit that. scout does not want demo dapping up anyone else though because they’re not cool enough, except heavy he’s got no opinion on that because it’s funny to watch demo get the wind knocked out of him.

engineer: engineer hits that “gyat DAMN” often because of his accent. scout is convinced he’s using it wrong, that pisses engie off because it’s literally his accent and scout can get the fuck over himself he’s not from the first generation that made up language. sometimes to piss him off he’ll say skibidi toilet with no actual context to go around it. and scout hates that bc he hates skibidi toilet. also an enjoyer of the dap even when heavy and demo practically lift him off his feet with it.

heavy: heavy will dap people up. he loves it. makes him feel like he’s getting closer with his team. will always end a dap by pulling them in for a brief, yet crushing hug. everyone eats it up, laughing after they catch the breath he forcibly removed from their lungs and patting his arm or back, whatever the recipient can reach. also loves to say rizz, it makes his teeth vibrate in a good way. “doctor, you are a rizz master!” “demoman, keep rizzing your weapons!” “i LOVE my weapons rizz!” he doesn’t know if he’s using it right, scout just wholeheartedly assures him he’s using it right.

medic: medic heard scout say something fucks once. now, for him, EVERYTHING fucks. he himself DEFINITELY fucks. he assumed it’s a good thing. there was one time in the throes of battle, he managed to catch scout to heal him, and used the speed boost he got from it to catch up and yell over the din “you’re FUCKING today, scout!” and scout jumped his ass about how he’s not even using it right and he never wanted to hear that again. unfortunately, the doctor is a hellish bastard who loves pissing people off, so now everything does indeed fuck. he definitely fucks. “oh, my medigun? ja, that fucks. and i fuck too.” “doc, nobody wants to hear what you’re fucking, dude”. pissed scout off more when he and soldier were ubered, running into battle, and soldier said very confidently “your glizzy tops ALL OTHER GLIZZIES” and medic responded, making direct eye contact with scout in the heat of battle; “ja, my glizzy fucks.”

sniper: snipes dabbed twice in the privacy of his own nest to see how it felt and couldn’t get over his own shame that he did that. he did it twice because he alternated arms to see if it felt less stupid to do it the other way. it didn’t. he will never bring himself to do that again. that was embarrassing. has a dreadful feeling the other teams sniper saw him do it. sometimes after a really good kill streak he’ll do a small dab as a treat. he does unironically use “deadass”

spy: anything that will piss scout off spy is happy to do. spy has used words he knows does not exist to confuse scout as to the current slang going around. he’ll have scout on the internet desperately searching words that not only don’t exist, but he can’t even spell, just to make sure spy isn’t a step ahead of him. but spy is always two steps ahead of him. spy will say shit just to feel the bostonians eyes burn holes in the back of his skull, only to turn to him and say “what, you’ve never heard that before? look it up!” then hides in his room to watch him desperately search a word he can’t even spell. unironically uses “deadass” because he heard snipes say it once and it wriggled its way into his mind like a worm. he says it after like… everything.

#team fortress 2 #team fortress two #tf2 soldier #tf2 demo #tf2 heavy #tf2 pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2 sniper #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 spy #tf2 scout #tf2 #sometimes i feel so goofy bc i get so excited for my own daily updates #deadass treating this tumblr like it’s not even mine #and i keep going omg i can’t wait for the next post you mean they do this DAILY???#like…. yes babe you’re writing it lmao #anyways i’m really excited for some of the next posts i hope y’all like them #thanks for appreciating my hcs if you got this far!

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misshuntereevee · 2 days ago

Note

This had been in my draft since forever. I'm gonna put it here, if you have a better idea of how to write this story, please go ahead! If not, feel free to toss it.

Zayne x mc. His pov when he had to move away and study to become a doctor and finally seeing mc again when he becomes her primary physician. Bc i feel like he had a crush on her when they were kids. And in the story mc said she finally meets her childhood friend after she met her primary physician or something like that

Thank you in advance! <3

₊˚｡ ❆ ⋆⁺₊❅. & isn't it just so pretty to think; all along there was some invisible string tying you to me? i fucking love this prompt thank you! ♥ i hope this is okay, i did make it a continuation of that one zayne memory where he gives her an ice seal.

prompts open.

The second he saw you again, he knew he couldn't lie to himself any longer. Time, he had figured, would ease his crush on you. His attraction to his childhood friend.

But the second you stand in front of him with that adorable smile, a little tooth poking out, he knew he was screwed. You were not textbook. In fact, you were everything but textbook. And that's what Zayne was used to. Zayne liked order. Zayne liked playing by the rules. Because the rules are there to protect you...right?

But it's addictive. Even if he'd tried to imagine how you'd look now, he'd never come close to the perfection you are now to him. How you laugh, how your nose and eyes crinkle when you do. And the color of your eyes. He's sure a million artists could try, and never replicate the exact shade of your hue. Lips so kissable... So when you join him at lunch because he's the only one with room at his table -- he's too shocked to say much. You're here. Not only are you here, but you remember him!

You're giggling as you recount the story of him giving you a snowball at you at the seal exhibit. Back then, you thought he'd been teasing you by making a sculpture of the snowball the seals had just thrown at you. He'd made it out of his Evol and you still have it.

He doesn't widen his eyes or respond physically, but he's not sure whether to laugh or cry at the fact you didn't realize it was supposed to be a seal. It was supposed to be cute and impress you. But you thought it was a snowball! And thought he was making fun of you!

Finally, he closes his eyes, shaking his head with a laugh. You finish the rest of your meal together, and you aren't sure why he keeps giving you a look that is on the verge of smile -- but holds back. When the meal is finally over, he offers to walk you to the cab.

Outside, he's mesmerized by you. Suddenly embolden, he realizes he can't let you think he was making fun of you any longer. He needs to show you what it was supposed to be.

"Can I show you something? Stick your hand out."

You furrow a brow at him, but you trust him. You stick your hand out, palm up. He places his hands over it in a dome...and then you feel it. Icy tendrils on your palm. But besides being cool to the touch, they don't hurt. That's intentional.

When he pulls his hand back, an ice seal sits in the palm of your hand and you beam at it. "Something to put next to the snowball you gave me? That's so sweet!"

He mutters something, but you don't quite hear him. You lean in closer, a hand resting on his forearm casually. (Casually to you, but his heart is racing in his chest. He's a cardiologist and even he's concerned about the effect you have on his heart.)

"What was that?" You ask him, leaning in.

He's going to have a heart attack. With a exhale, he repeats it: "You can throw the last one away. It's..."

He pauses, his eyes closing. "Just... this one is better."

And as he walks away, leaving you at your cab, you smile down at it -- and then realize. It's better... because it's what it's supposed to be this time. Your mouth is almost on the floor. He was trying to make something cute all those years ago...

But as you continue to grin down at the new seal, you know you're never throwing out the first one, even if he probably wants you too. No, because you have a feeling... something started right now.

And as he heads home, he also thinks about how happy he is to have a reason to see you again, even if it was just to correct that past mistake.. he should have never given her that snowball-looking seal. But looking out the window, he realizes... maybe the snowball made sure you didn't forget him.

Maybe he's grateful for the ugly thing.

#doctor zayne #zayne x reader #lads fanfiction #lads fanfic #dr zayne #l&ds zayne #lads zayne #lnds zayne #love and deep space zayne #zayne and mc #zayne fluff #zayne love and deepspace #zayne imagines #zayne x mc #zayne

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pupkashi · 2 days ago

Text

a/n: kakashi word vomit i wanna make out w him

masterlist

kakashi is so attractive & he never believes it until you show him how much you’re attracted to him. when you first see him you’re doing a double take bc no one said the famous copy ninja was such a stunner ???

it takes a lot of courage and teasing from asuma and kurenai before you even think about talking to the silver haired shinobi. at first kakashi thinks you’re nervous because you’re scared of him, so he assures you he wouldn’t hurt you.

“you don’t have to be so nervous y’know, i don’t bite” he smiles, eye crinkling and it makes you flush.

“I’ve just never tried flirting with someone as attractive as you” you blurt out, cursing kurenai for encouraging the three shots you took before walking over to kakashi.

kakashi is shocked, his only visible eye now wide and mouth in the shape of an ‘o’ (even if you can’t see it). he doesn’t say anything, wondering how you could find someone as average as him attractive.

nevertheless kakashi doesn’t make you feel awkward, continuing the conversation. the two of you click perfectly, laughing softly and getting to know each other. kakashi is quick to ask you when he’d see you again, thankful his mask is hiding his profuse blushing.

four months later the two of you as sitting on his couch, the movie was mere background noise as you looked at your boyfriend, something akin to a magnetic force pulling your lips towards his exposed neck. you press feathery kisses all over it, kakashi sighs softly.

“thought you wanted to watch this movie?” he chuckles, moving his neck so you can kiss him with more ease. his words are airy, and you know he’s not complaining nor does he want you to stop.

“you’re too hot to not make out with” you breathe out between kisses, planting some along his jawline before finally landing on his lips.

kakashi is quick to move you, grabbing you by the hips and placing you on his lap. he’s never been one to deny your affection, and he wasn’t gonna start today.

he thinks maybe you’re just feeling clingy today, he’s been gone on a mission for a week or so anyway. that must be all it is. kakashi chalks it up to you missing him after missions for months, no matter how many times you tell him you just think he’s so fucking hot.

it’s not until a little over a two years into your relationship that kakashi lies awake in bed, realizing you’d never once stopped showering him with your affection and compliments. he’d figured once the honeymoon phase was over the rose tinted glasses you had on must’ve come off, but it seemed like they never did.

every day you still greeted him with a sweet smile and a flurry of kisses, “how was your day handsome?” or “hi pretty boy, how’d it go?” or any variation which included complimenting him.

kakashi lets his mind wander, grateful that you were as in love with him as he was you. you stirred in your sleep, flipping and curling into your lovers side unconsciously. it made his heart stutter as he closed his eyes, letting your warmth and steady breathing lull him to sleep.

kakashi comes home the next day with his vest already off, navy undershirt untucked and hair flopping naturally over his forehead.

“how was work toda-” you feel the words stuck in your throat as you drink in the look of your boyfriend. he usually gets home in uniform and immediately goes to the shower and you see him freshened up and changed. it’s a rare, breathtaking sight to see him as disheveled as he in right now.

“what? do i still have blood on my face?” he haphazardly wipes at his face with the back of his hand. you shake your head at him, not trusting your voice as you clear your throat and lean in to kiss his cheek. “what’s got you so flustered, pretty?” his deep honey voice has your cheeks burning as you stare at him.

“you look good” you admit, a small smile on your lips, not trying to hide how badly you wanted to jump his bones in that moment.

“hmm, do i? ‘m all sweaty” kakashi mumbles, letting a cocky grin play on his lips as he bends over slightly to allow his lips to hover over yours, “missed me that much baby? you made me late this morning” he smiles as your crash your lips into his, not able to hold yourself back when he was only mere inches away from you.

“not my fault you’re so fucking attractive” you say between kissing him, squealing softly when kakashi pulls you into him by your waist.

it’s in every kiss your place to his skin, ever gentle and needy touch, breathing your love into him as you hold him impossibly close. every action and gesture of yours is enough to reassure him as you shoo him off to shower while you finish dinner. kakashi lets the hot water hit his flushed skin with a happy sigh, forever grateful he paid for asuma’s lunch for a month in exchange for him to play cupid.

#hatake kakashi x reader #hatake kakashi fluff #kakashi hatake imagine #hatake kakashi x you #kakashi imagines #kakashi fluff #kakashi imagine #kakashi drabble #kakashi hatake fluff #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi hatake x y/n #kakashi hatake x you #hatake kakashi drabble #hatake kakashi x reader fluff #hatake kakashi #kakashi hatake

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astrxsee · 3 days ago

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I absolutely loved "price bringing the boys to his country home for the holidays," RAHHHHH, thank you for sharing your visions 😁 also re: your tags, I Will be getting you started on how soap talks SO FREAKING DIRTY About Price's pride and joy - - lord -- anyway, love for the New Year!

<3 -@horny-for-tf141

ilysm this is my first ask ever eeeeee

also this is part 2 to this

no bc simon wont shut up about you. johnny would hear about every interaction between the two of you that day. the scot eating up every sweet word that falls out of the larger man’s mouth.

“i could just smell her ‘air, took everythin’ in me not to grab her right there.”

soap would nod like an eager puppy, probably holding back something borderline feral.

“yeah, l.t., those eyes, they just do something for ya. don’t they?”

he’d say to ghost, pushing him to say more. he’d try and miserably fail to hide the growing tent in his pants as his superior kept talking. soap couldn’t help but to notice the tension in simon’s body and the way his hands would ball into fists as he kept talking.

“now what was she thinking putting on that slutty little dress on new year’s eve. god i wanted to rip that little number in half. our little birdie should know that she’s all mine.”

simon would say, his eyes peering over to johnny.

“aye, l.t., poor lass doesn’t know what’s good for her is all. show her what she needs. cap’ can’t keep her here forever.” the scot speaks up, the light from the warm fire your father made earlier flickering over his face.

AND OMG don’t even get me started on how they’d treat you in person like…

just imagine it’s christmas eve and your father is throwing a party for his team and a couple of his friends. simon can’t keep his eyes off you the entire night, and you know it.

you’d eventually drag him out to the porch for a smoke, him grumbling in opposition while you sweetly bat your eyelashes at him. of course he followed you like a dog, he’d follow you anywhere.

imagine cuddling into his side complaining that it’s ‘too cold’ and him putting his arm over your shoulders and pulling you in.

“why can’t you stop looking at me, simon?” you asked innocently, your eyes looking up at him. you knew the exact answer but this was just too fun.

he lets out a long groan, his hand running over his masked face.

“don’t do this to me, princess.” he practically begs you. his eyes filled with a feeling you can’t quite place.

then imagine you starting to tease him more as you trace cute patterns into the fabric of his stupid christmas sweater. his breathing becoming labored as he leans his head back, his eyes shutting. my man is fighting for his life

“please, lovie, you don’t know what you do to me.” he grits his teeth as his hands travel down to your hips. his large hand taking up so much space, squeezing onto you like you’d disappear.

“i’m sorry, si. i just can’t help it when you’re exactly what i want.”

you think it’s the doe eyes and the small kiss you pressed to his neck that gets you into the next situation.

in a split second, he had you pressed up against the siding of your father’s his captain’s house. his large arms caging you in between him and the wall. you could hear low growls coming from his throat. one of his large hands comes to rest on your hip as he buries his nose in your neck.

“you haven’t left my mind since i got here, dove. you’ve grown up so much since the last time i saw you, i just can’t help myself.”

he inhales sharply, breathing in your scent. he trails feather light kisses along your jawbone, almost like you’d break at any sort of pressure.

“you’ve been mine and you’ve always known it. just had to let you figure it out for yourself, princess.”

now don’t imagine johnny watching from inside, chubbing up at the sight of his lieutenant devouring price’s lovely, innocent little daughter. maybe ghost would let him watch when he takes her virginity

#im going feral #i need them to run a train on me #ghost has a big dick btw #anyways #this is bad i know #just had to get past my writers block #ghost #cod headcanons #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost hcs #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost x you #ghost x reader

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stargazedwinchester · 3 days ago

Text

Last Night's Mascara ♡ Dean

Summary: You lose your boyfriend, Dean, to a demonic possession that has replaced his soul.

Word Count: 1,433

Warnings: Physical abuse, some counts of swearing

If that's not something you want to read, please keep scrolling!

This one took a little longer, I had just under 2 weeks off of work and enjoyed it a bit too much and I procrastinated a bit too much, therefore I'm posting this late bc I wanted to stay on schedule xoxox

Inspo by last night's mascara - Griff

Sunday morning. You lay your head on your pillow, staring up at the ceiling. Thirteen nights you had slept alone.

Thirteen nights without Dean.

Thirteen nights you had prayed to God by your bedside, begging him to bring Dean back. Nothing worked.

You force yourself up and out of bed, padding down toward the bathroom. Flicking the light on, you glance at yourself in the mirror whilst reaching over to turn the shower on. You peel off your pyjamas, leaving them in a puddle on the floor. While the shower was warming up, you squeeze some toothpaste onto your toothbrush and brush your teeth. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you notice your usually bright, youthful features are now dull and lifeless.

Dean was your happiness. His silly, guileless demeanour was what made him your perfect match. You had faced challenges together before and believed you could overcome this one, too.

How naïve you were!

Spitting the toothpaste out, you rinse your mouth out and run the water so the remnants go down the drain. You turn the tap off and hop into the shower.

“You’re never around anymore, Dean! How do you think that makes me feel?” You spat, an amused look forms on his face. He runs his hand through his gelled hair, looking at you with dead eyes. “I don’t know what the fuck you find funny-”

“Don’t speak to me like that.” He hushes, and your eyebrows furrow in rage. “Don’t speak to you like that? Like what? Like I don’t want to try and sort things out between us? Like none of this actually matters?” you row, throwing your hands up in defeat. Dean sighs. Every second he wasted not talking to you made you more irate. At this point, you assumed it would be impossible to feel this upset with the man you’re supposed to love.

You knew Dean hadn’t been right within himself for quite a while; he had been out a lot more, belligerent in helping you and his brother on hunts, coming across way less affectionate than usual. This left you bewildered and lost. It wasn’t like Dean to be so… cold. He abandoned everything he loved for… nothing. You always felt like it wasn’t completely his fault, but seeing the way he is, it’s hard to think otherwise.

“Talk to me, Dean! Say fucking something!” You walk toward him, who’s facing away from you. Confidence runs through your blood as you stride across the cold floorboards. “Please, Dean,” you exasperate, your throat closing in. You place your hand on his shoulder. He aggressively shoves your hand off, he twists around and fires you across the room. You yelp as your back whips around the bottom of the metal staircase. You’re winded, but that didn’t stop you from getting right back up. “I told you,” Dean snaps, keeping his stalwart, defunct stare on you. He takes a deep breath.

“I told you,” he repeats. “Don’t fucking talk to me like that.” He raises his voice, booming across the bunker. It feels like the walls vibrated with fear. You storm up to him and he pushes you away, knocking you back onto the floor. “I don’t love you!” He bellows, and you scurry toward the closest wall to stick yourself too. You’re terrified, terrified of what Dean is capable of doing. You’re frozen in place watching him bluster toward you.

He pulls you up so you’re practically glued to the wall behind you, your glare never left his as his pupils dilate. The perfect shade of green that once resides was no longer there.

“I don’t fucking love you, Y/N. I never have. The fact that you feel like you have to try and fix everything? It doesn’t work. It’ll never work. You will never, ever find someone that’ll love you. Purely and effortlessly. This,” he pauses and motions between you both. “This was nothing but for show. You’re a beautiful girl, but I fucking hate you. Quite frankly, you’re worthless. Pathetic.” He smiles intentionally, and those words puncture at your heart like a million shards of glass. You’re unsure of what to do as his awfully strong grasp lets go of you. Your feet touch the ground and you’re still staring at him. He presses his lips together and clenches his jaw.

“Get out of my face.” He brushes you off, turning away from you. Dean pauses. He turns and slaps you across the face. You inhale sharply, your bottom lip wobbling but holding in tears. Even though you’re hurting right now, your body and heart have a rush of adrenaline. As Dean turns away, you force him to turn back around to you. You punch him in the cheekbone, causing him to stagger. He attempts to alter himself and reach for you, but you shove him backwards. “Don’t you fucking DARE do that again, Winchester! Who the fuck do you think you are?!” you scream, and he just looks at you. He looks at you as if you’re crazy. “Put your fucking hands on me again and watch what happens, you stupid bastard! Get the fuck out of here! Now!” You shriek, now your voice echoes throughout the bunker. Dean looks surprised as he steps away from you. That same, sinister smirk appears on his face again as he walks toward the stairway.

“I’m not done with you.” He voices just above a whisper. He leaves the bunker and you in silence. You take a shaky breath as you evaluate what has just happened.

Tears roll down your face. A weird comfort from the light, but scorching taps from the waterfall cascading down your back. The water trickles down the drain, mocking you by telling you that you can wash your worries away. A bubble arises in your throat that you can’t control. Your bottled up emotions have finally decided to spill out. You let out a sob, your hands reaching up to your mouth. You don’t want Sam to hear you. Your whole body shakes. You turn around and face the water, letting it fall down your face, hoping that it drowns out the sound of your cries. Desperate and vulnerable cries.

As you step out of the shower, you reach for a towel to wrap around yourself and walk out the door. You make your way to your bedroom and get dressed.

The bright Texan sun beams down, and you pull your sunglasses down over your eyes. You have finally arrived at the church, 46 miles out from the bunker. Despite deserted roads, the entire trip still took almost two hours. Walking down the broken cobblestone path, you push the wooden door open. It squeaks weakly as you step inside onto the floorboards.

There’s no one here, and the door slams behind you. You flinch. You walk toward the altar that’s standing in the centre of the church. Warm colors from the stained glass windows behind the altar reflect onto the rickety floorboards, showing images of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. You kneel down in front of the altar, fixating on the floor. For days, you prayed for the return of the old Dean. You’re stuck on what to say, so you sit for a minute. You assumed Cas would be able to hear your prayers every night, but it felt as if no one could help you. Cas was MIA and Sam’s out of town. You’re completely and utterly alone.

You concentrate as you pray to the shrine in front of you.

“God, if you can hear me, I pray for your divine intervention. To free Dean from the demon’s control and bring back the man we all miss dearly. Please bring my Dean home. I’m begging for something, anything. Please. Amen.”

You sit there for a little while, hoping that the message had actually been heard. You reminisce on how you and Dean used to be, how joyous life felt before he decided to practically give his own life away for the Mark of Cain. You take a deep breath before standing up. You turn around and you’re met with a tall man in a beige trench coat.

“I heard your prayer, Y/N.” He says, gazing down at you with care. Your eyes meet Cas’ and you can’t help but burst into tears. He pulls you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you attentively and he allows you to feel every emotion you’ve needed to let out. You feel very grateful for Cas’s help, even if it is as minimal as a hug. God knows you've needed it.

#supernatural #spn #supernatural imagines #spn imagines #dean winchester #dean winchester imagines #supernatural imagine #spn imagine #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean x y/n #supernatural x reader #supernatural x y/n #spn x reader #spn x y/n

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farmhandler · 2 days ago

Note

lil prompt: wade gives logan and laura (and himself ofc) an at home spa day bc god knows they could both use it. (optional: with vanessa's help)

“I’m not good at this. Why do you keep making me do it?” Logan asked.

Wade sighed explosively, as though Logan's utter lack of interest in painting Wade's nails was a personal failing.

“Laura needs a role model now more than ever. How will you help paint her nails if you can’t even paint mine?”

"I think I could do a better job with my eyes closed," Laura said. Her eyes were, in fact, closed due to the cooling mask Wade had forced on her first thing when they'd come over. "Why do I have this on?"

"Your eyebags could give mine a run for their money," Wade said.

“She’s fucking eighteen years old," Logan said. "She doesn’t need my help painting her nails. And I'm pretty sure our 'eyebags' are genetic.”

“Then what about me, daddy?” Wade said, fluttering his lashes at Logan. Logan kicked his leg under the table.

Wade wasn't to be deterred. He wiggled his fingers imploringly, waiting, and Logan decided, fuck it, and he tried. Genuinely, really tried to paint Wade's nails, and paint them however he liked.

"Painting outside the lines," Wade said as he watched him make no attempt to try and keep the paint on his nail. "Your technique intrigues me, Peanut."

"Shut it. I've got this," Logan muttered. He finished painstakingly drawing a little star on each nail and then scraped away the paint around Wade's nail afterwards with tissues. He figured cleaning up this way was better than trying to be precise on the first try and failing anyway.

Wade kept a straight face the whole time. Then he lifted his nails and bit his lip, hard.

“Oh my god," he breathed. "What are those?"

"They're stars. The blue background is a night sky." Logan pointed the bottle at him. "You fucking do this shit with this tiny ass little brush. I'm not made for precision."

"You're telling me, sweetie. The edges of my nails are awful. They��re so bad. I love them,” Wade gushed. He smiled at Logan with genuine glee, and Logan felt warm all over in a way he fucking hated, because he'd been feeling it a lot more lately.

Then Wade’s phone rang.

“Can you answer that for me, sweetums? I’m currently very wet and trying to harden up.”

Shaking his head, Logan leaned forward and answered the call without looking. It was Vanessa, letting them know she'd found the LED lamp for the nails Logan had bought not knowing they needed a stupid lamp to work. Why they asked him to do this shit when he obviously didn't know what he was doing, he'd never know.

When she showed up, she also had a bunch of other shit Logan didn't want to have anywhere near him either.

"Sorry I took so long. I had to go to a couple places to find the lamp." Vanessa swept past Logan after tugging him down for a kiss on the cheek by the door and set her bag on the table. "You started without me?"

"Just some nail painting. And giving Laura's eyes a rest."

"My eyes are freezing," she said from the couch.

Logan sat down next to her, because it felt safer to do so. Laura hated this stuff as much as he did. Or at least he assumed she did. He'd never asked.

"You have any idea what all this is?" he asked her, once she lifted the mask from her face. Laura hummed.

"Some of it." She handed him one of the samples Vanessa had dumped from wherever she'd gone. "You should use this."

"Nighttime eye cream?" he read aloud. "And this is supposed to do what?"

Wade was sitting waiting for his nails to dry, so Vanessa walked over and ripped open the packet. She then dabbed the cream under his eyes and rubbed it in. When Logan tried to yank his head away, she grabbed his chin and made him sit tight.

"Come on, put up with it for five seconds," she said. "Trust me, you'll like this one."

The scent wasn't overpowering, which was a plus. Still strong, but that was most things. The cream had a surprisingly soft texture. Once she was done, he wasn't going to admit it felt kind of nice, but he didn't need to. Wade grinned at Logan like a loon.

"You don't have to look so fucking smug about all this," Logan muttered.

"You lost the bet, so I don't even need to pretend," Wade said cheerfully.

"Because you cheated," Logan hissed.

"And I didn't get caught!" Wade clapped his hands together, apparently deeming them dry. "All right, now let's get serious."

About half an hour later, Logan really was regretting letting Wade get away with cheating.

He had an itchy mask on his face, his hair was pinned back by a headband with kitten ears on it, and Wade could not look any more pleased if he tried. Logan had assumed the nails that needed a lamp to cure them were for Laura or Vanessa, but everybody insisted on putting them on him. So he sat there while these sparkly pink nails dried, and the facemask did whatever it was doing on his face.

Logan hated it, but Laura...Laura was laughing. She's been laughing. She thought Wade was funny, but Vanessa and Wade together really set her off. Logan had never seen her laugh so much.

Logan exhaled. Maybe regret wasn't the right word. And maybe he didn't hate it.

"You ready for your mud bath?" Wade asked, sitting down next to him.

"You'd better be joking, bub."

"Only slightly. I do have a hot tub that's been bath bombed with your name on it. And all the supplies I need to work on your feet while you do. Don't worry: I have fully and mentally prepared myself to pick the fungus out of your toes."

"Ew," Laura said to their right. Vanessa was in the middle of pulling her hair back to join the face mask crowd.

I'm not doing that, Logan almost said, and then looked at Laura, and Vanessa.

If he let the night end now, sure, he'd be more comfortable, but...well, he didn't hate all this.

The candles were nice. Wade had picked really subtle scents, and nothing too fruity or overly clean. They reminded Logan of his cabin, the one he hadn't visited in years. After a rain, when the forest surrounding it smelled heavy and sweet in a way he couldn't explain to anyone who didn't get it.

"Yeah, all right," he said. Wade looked surprised.

"You okay?" Wade asked, inexplicably. He scooted closer to Logan and touched his knee. "I really won't force you into it, if it's that bad."

"It's not." Logan touched his hand. Their nails looked completely mismatched, especially his. On his gnarled hands, the pink stood out badly. He lifted them into the light for inspection. "I could use a bath. You coming in with me?"

It was both a tease and a genuine question. Wade laughed, startled, still grinning that shit-eating grin.

"And fondle your toes directly? Absolutely."

Logan thought back to that kiss on his cheek. So he kissed Wade's cheek, and when Wade made a soft sound of surprise, Logan shifted his mouth a few inches over to Wade's.

Now Wade looked stunned. Someone cleared their throat behind them.

"No fondling," Logan said, rising to a stand.

"A little fondling," Wade said, finally recovering enough to speak. He leapt up and followed Logan.

#how does one end these...i say every time #poolverine #i hope you enjoy! tysm for the prompt!#my ficlet #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool

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acedocx · 3 days ago

Text

it's all been done, more than once

•

h.k.

word count: 13.4K

tags: hueningkai x reader, rockstar!musician!hyuka, college au, reader has anxiety, description of a panic attack, no this is not me projecting shut up, also i suck at writing drunk people please ignore, fluff, slow burn kinda but not really

warnings: swearing, alcohol use, depictions of panic attacks/anxiety, shitty formatting bc the author doesn't know how tumblr formatting works

🎸 author's note: hello! this is my first ever fic, please be kind to me. i started it way back in july, forgot about it, and then was hit with the divine inspiration to finish the whole thing in a week. enjoy!

•••

"are you having fun yet?"

it was all you could do not to smash the overpriced, slightly flat vodka redbull in your hand over your friend's head.

being in college means the acceptance of two undeniable truths: making questionable decisions and being broke. this is how you often found yourself at these cheap, shitty dive bars.

your lovely, wonderful best friend beomgyu (who would not appreciate having a glass smashed over his head and his outfit ruined, you reminded yourself) was the main perpetrator of your frequent nights out. beomgyu had bought in very early to the "college-is-freedom, good-time-not-a-long-time" mindset, often dragging you out at obscene hours during the summer to whatever club or bar was still open.

and then the next one.

and the next.

fortunately for the both of you (mostly him), classes didn't start for the fall semester for about another week. not that he had anything to worry about, he was kind of a genius—school came as naturally as breathing to him, something you had always sort of envied.

you forced a pained smile and spoke as loudly as you could through gritted teeth,

"yep. loads."

truth be told, you hated bars. they were loud, overwhelming, overpriced, unclean, and more often then not, way too crowded—people packed together like sweaty, drunk sardines. it's not like you were a germaphobe, but it's places like this where you were coming into contact with way more bodily fluids than you felt comfortable with.

the bar you found yourself in now was admittedly on the cleaner side, and to beomgyu's credit, he did pick the one you hate the least—a bar called 'annex'. it was an accurate name, as the bar was a small addition to a bigger restaurant, and was pretty charming despite its size.

it was certainly not without flaws; the chipped wooden bar barely left enough space for the bartenders to move around, even without the addition of bottles of liquor, miscellaneous knick-knacks, and probably illegally obtained road signs lining the walls. every time you looked, you saw something you hadn't seen before. had that poster been there the last time? what about the traffic light?

you really didn't like this scene at all—it made you nervous. but you loved beomgyu, and it's not like you didn't enjoy a drink or two, so it was kind of difficult to say no—especially once your cognitive abilities had been reasonably dampened by the alcohol.

"woahh...negative nancy over here," he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender and stumbling back a bit.

"that is not my name." you couldn't help but crack a small smile at beomgyu and his outdated phrases.

"i know what your name is, silly...it's an esspression!"

"ex-pression. how many drinks does that one you have there make?"

"s'what i said....and only like....three." you could see the gears in his head turning. "or...maybe...maybe six...which s'basically the same!" beomgyu said indignantly.

you rolled your eyes. you felt kind of bad being so off-put by the place, you didn't want to ruin gyu's fun—but you couldn't help it. your head was beginning to pound from the lights and the overwhelming sound of chatter coming from every direction, and the walls felt like they were closing in further and further by the second.

neon signs and LED lights were about the only illumination in the room, bathing everyone in purple, red, and blue hues. the poorly painted black stool you sat on wobbled as you craned your neck at the crowd in front of you; people were crammed together at tables, lined up outside the never-empty bathroom—or for the most part, directly in front of the tiny stage at the far end of the room.

before you could protest, the conversations in the room noticeably quieted—the humming noise of a guitar amp being plugged in and the feedback from a microphone replacing the voices.

this was the only part you truly kind of enjoyed. the music. most of the music at these kinds of places was...subpar at best; cover bands butchering classics, some guy in a graphic tee and flannel with guitar tabs on his phone thinking he's the next elliot smith—usually cringey, but entertaining nonetheless. but every once in a while, there will be a singer or a band that seems too big for the cardboard box of a bar they're in, too talented for such a small audience.

he looked about the same as any college musician would—nervous, a little shaky, bright eyed with hope that hasn't quite been crushed by the world yet (and probably aided by a few drinks, too).

he was tall—like, tall. imposing, almost, with broad shoulders and long limbs, juxtaposed with a soft, anxious expression. his clothes caught your eye too—black band tee, ripped black jeans, and what looked to be a black leather battle vest covered in patches you couldn't quite make out and studs on every seam. his grey-blue hair fell into his eyes as he adjusted the microphone from where it hit at about chest-height.

your eyes lingered on his hands. they moved from the microphone and found the neck and strings of the guitar like they belonged there; despite his air of nervousness, there was no doubt he knew exactly what to do with the instrument he had.

you cut your eyes at beomgyu, who attempted to make his way towards the stage before nearly faceplanting onto the black tile floors, catching himself on your shoulder and almost pulling you down with him.

"THAT'S my FRIEND! i-i live with that guy, he's my FRIEND—my BRO, guys! you GOT this, kai, you can...do it! m'so proud of you, bro!" beomgyu raised his drink in the air in an unsteady toast—most of the contents sloshing out and onto your clothes in the process—as he leaned against your shoulder. laughter rippled through the audience and you groaned, screwing your eyes shut, head in your hands in embarrassment.

the boy—kai, his name seemed to be, looked similarly embarrassed, ears tinged red and eyes closed. he shook his head, cleared his throat, and began to speak.

"um, hi. i'm hueningkai, or...just—just kai, as my, uh—friend said." he cleared his throat again, taking a shaky breath before continuing. "i'll be playing some music for you guys tonight—mostly original things, but some covers if i hear any good requests, 'kay?" kai gave a small half-smile, fingers finding the frets of the guitar again.

and then he began to play. and you probably had whiplash from how quickly your head snapped up from your hands. the sound that filled the room wasn't a soft cover of some old song—it was loud. it was sharp. the sound of gritty, messy, but intentional and practiced guitar pierced the room, instantly igniting the crowd of people that had gathered around the stage to see this kid play.

"holy shit," you whispered incredulously.

his voice perfectly broke and rasped where the music called for it, gaze shifted from soft to trenchant—all previous nerves seemed to have dissolved. he looked like a different person.

"holy shit," you repeated again to no one in particular. "this guy's a rockstar."

you became suddenly aware that you were no longer being used as an armrest. beomgyu had managed to regain enough composure to stumble his way into the crowd near the front of the stage, cheering and flailing about in what was probably supposed to be dancing.

you were torn between recording him for blackmail purposes later and going to get him before he got sick all over the other guests. finally deciding on the latter, you slid off the stool, a little woozy yourself.

you made it to beomgyu on two feet with no trouble, gently taking him by the shoulders, pulling him back towards the bar.

"come on buddy, you need some water in you, or you're gonna hate yourself tomorrow," you chided as he squirmed away from you.

"noooooo....m'having fun...wanna watch kai," he whined. "that's my—my...my friend...my friend—"

"i know, but i am also your friend, and this friend would rather you not be sick all over these people and the poor staff have to clean it up, you're gonna get us banned from this bar too, come on," you tugged a little harder—goddamn, he was stronger than he looked—sighing in frustration.

in the midst of your battle with beomgyu, your eyes met kai's as he played the final notes of the song. his silvery hair was damp with sweat, sticking to his face and neck which shone with exertion, hands still on the guitar in the position of the final chord. but his eyes. it was his eyes that stopped you.

in them, you saw the thing that you missed from a lot of these dive-bar musicians—from a lot of people in general. granted, covered songs aren't easy to add to, and it's not like it's a concert. but there's no soul in the music. they perform to make money and get out. kai had passion. as cheesy as it sounded, when you looked into his eyes, you knew this was his life, whether he was making money from it or not. the stage was his home, and you knew it.

for a moment, you felt like you couldn't move—paralyzed by this guy with his guitar, his pretty hands and his starry eyes. and then you felt beomgyu lean into your shoulder, head dropping against your shoulder, and the moment was gone.

"i don't...don't feel s'good..." he slurred, his whole body weight against you now. you sighed and propped him up, arm slung around your shoulder as you carried him outside.

"yep, see, i told you. this is why you shoulda listened to me when i told you three drinks ago that you should slow down. alright, let's get you back home, buddy."

you cast one last glance over your shoulder at kai, still panting from exhaustion and exhilaration, eyes still bright with the high of the music. you wondered if he even knew how bright he shone on that stage.

•••

"you did this to yourself, gyu."

"if you...speak again, i'm throw—urgh—i'm throwing up on your shoes next," beomgyu groaned.

thank the powers that be for the invention of the uber. you had both made it back to gyu's apartment in mostly one piece, and beomgyu himself, poor thing, was now curled up on the cold blue tile of the bathroom floor, clutching your hand like it was the only thing tethering him to this mortal plane—which, to him, it probably felt like it was.

you'd been here for about two hours, not wanting to leave beomgyu alone, and honestly not totally reconciled with the idea of getting an uber alone at three in the morning.

you'd asked him where his other housemates were, and through his hiccups, groaning, and gagging, you'd deduced that all of them were out for individual reasons; vacation, out with a friend, with family. you weren't sure which was which, and you decided not to push the subject. you hadn't actually met his housemates before, and this probably wasn't the best first impression.

you leaned your head back against the tiled wall of the bathroom, hand rubbing circles on beomgyu's back. you closed your eyes. your head still swam slightly from the alcohol, even though you had tried not to drink all that much. you looked over pityingly at the long-haired boy beside you, stomach revolting against him. poor thing.

"gyu?"

"ugh..."

"do you want me to get you more water?" you asked softly.

"ugh..."

"i'm assuming that's a yes. okay, i'll be back."

you pushed yourself to your feet, steadying yourself and making your way to the kitchen.

the apartment was small, but cute in a way. cozy. and messy, you noted; even in your altered state, you did double takes at some of the odd sights you saw around the place. why on earth is there a bike in the kitchen? you asked yourself, making a note to ask beomgyu about it at a later date.

as you finished pouring what was probably the sixth glass of water in two hours, you heard the handle of the front door begin to turn.

you spun to face the door in alarm. was someone trying to break in? what on earth could you do in this situation? you can't fight, you can't even walk straight! oh god, someone's gonna come in, rob gyu and his housemates blind, kill you twice—

the door opened and you were met with the same grey-blue hair and soft eyes you had seen on the stage two hours ago. ah, that's right. five people live here.

"oh, um, hi," you mentally smacked yourself in the head at your alarm. of course he lives here, beomgyu said it earlier. of course he's getting home now, it only makes sense. you quickly set the glass of water down and tried to smooth out your most likely unfixable outfit. "hi. i'm beomgyu's friend, i was with him at the bar you played at tonight. he's, uh, he's in there," you motioned toward the bathroom with a grimace. "he's...not doing too great."

hueningkai looked just as surprised to see you, mouth open slightly in shock, shaking his head to bring himself back.

"ah, thank you. he really can't hold his alcohol, can he? sorry about this, by the way, oh god, it's a mess in here—" red crept up his face as he took in the mess of the kitchen. you giggled slightly; maybe it was the alcohol, but you had the passing thought that he's kind of cute like this.

"don't worry about it, i'll be gone tomorrow. hueningkai, right? i watched you play, you're really good," you say.

he averted his eyes, half-smiling, ears still red. "ah, thank you, yes that's me. i appreciate that. and just kai is—is fine," he said, glancing once at you and away again.

you were suddenly extremely aware of how you looked—clothes twisted at odd angles from hours on the floor, hair simultaneously sticking to your face and out in all directions, face colored pink from embarrassment and the aforementioned vodka redbulls.

you quickly began trying to adjust your hair and you opened your mouth to respond, but were cut off from a drawn-out groan from the bathroom, making both you and kai cringe slightly. you sucked a breath in through your teeth.

"yeah, i'm gonna get this water to him before he starts trying to crawl out here after me. nice to meet you, kai," you say, waving slightly and grabbing the glass off the table, walking what you hoped didn't look like too quick a speed back to the bathroom, praying you didn't trip and fall.

•••

you refused the next time beomgyu invited you out, hoping desperately to avoid another tipsy run-in with kai.

realistically, you weren't that drunk, and surely you hadn't looked all that bad—at least not nearly as bad as gyu did. however, in the days since you arrived back to your dorm, you had managed to convince yourself that you could never look hueningkai in the face again, it would simply be too mortifying.

the last days of the summer holiday slipped by quickly, and classes began with much anticipation and even more dread.

the walk to your first lecture felt like miles, stomach twisting with nerves. you'd done this before. it's only lecture. but there's something about the first day of classes, when you don't know if you'll know anyone, looking upon unfamiliar faces and being thrust into an unfamiliar subject with no idea of how a professor will teach or test—it made you nauseous with anxiety every time.

and unfamiliar subject matter it was. advanced music theory and appreciation. you were a senior in college, an english major, and had finished up the majority of the required courses to graduate. all that was left was to fill the spaces with electives and courses that maybe you'd find interesting—or that would at least boost your GPA. that is how you ended up here, with a music theory course.

the idea is that it'll boost my GPA, you thought to yourself as you stepped into the chilly lecture hall. if i understand it at all. it did say advanced. you paused in front of the classroom door for a moment, hands shaking slightly. i did choir in high school, i remember the basics. it can't be that bad.

you pushed the door open, immediately greeted with chatter that surrounded you on all sides. you didn't really think to check how many people were in the class, and felt your heart sink into your stomach as you took in the unprecedented number of students. there had to be at least sixty, if not more.

"oh, no. no, no, no, no," you mumble to yourself, frantically scanning the room for a familiar face. your lungs felt as though they were shrinking with every attempted breath, heart rate picking up, uncomfortable warmth creeping up your face.

sixty-plus people who you didn't know, in a subject you didn't know, in a classroom you weren't familiar with—this was your idea of hell. what if you embarrass yourself? what if you don't make any friends? what if you don't understand the material? what if it tanks your GPA? what if—

a flash of blue-grey caught your eye, your head snapping over to the source. you admittedly felt relief wash over you as you recognized the side profile of hueningkai, staring intently at the notebook in front of him, scribbling down something you couldn't make out. there was one open seat left next to him. your only opportunity.

all previous notions of never looking him in the face again forgotten, you hurried from the door, down to the row where he sat. he didn't even notice you approach, too intent on writing what looked to be sheet music. you cleared your throat.

"this seat taken?" you asked softly.

kai's head jerked up, obviously startled, cheeks and ears tinged a familiar red with surprise.

"oh, hi! uh, no, no it isn't, you're good!" he said, shifting to the right as to give you enough room to put your things down. you smiled gratefully at him, hurrying into the seat, immediately feeling some of your nerves dissipate at being sat down at last.

"i'm glad to see a familiar face. i don't know anyone in here," you gave kind of a half-hearted laugh, hoping he couldn't tell how nervous that fact actually made you.

"i understand. that's the worst feeling. im glad i have a few friends in here—oh, one of my housemates is in here actually. but, he's avoiding me right now, i think."

"oh? where? and, why?"

"two rows up, four to the left. and because i maybe ate the last of his cereal this morning," he added sheepishly, glancing up to where you assumed the housemate in question was sitting.

"oh, criminal offense," you said, following kai's gaze. there was a boy there, glaring back down at him. he had plush lips and an intense gaze; his hair was a dark cherry red, his bangs falling messily into his eyes, still remaining somehow fashionable. you turned back to kai, shaking your head in mock disdain. "truly deplorable."

"yes, yeonjun was not happy with me. i'm surprised i made it out of the house alive and in one piece."

you giggled, watching as the boy—yeonjun, kai had said—stuck his tongue out at kai before returning to scrolling on his phone.

before you could start up another conversation, the professor walked in, and a hush fell over the room. you didn't catch the professor's name. or, for that matter, anything else he introduced in his first lesson.

within fifteen minutes, whatever modicum of confidence you had in understanding the course was completely crushed to nothing. these were words you'd never heard before, symbols you'd never seen—half the time, you could've sworn he was speaking another language. he is, you reminded yourself. a lot of music theory jargon is in italian—that makes me feel a little better.

you stopped processing the words coming out of the professor's mouth about forty-five minutes in. you glanced over at kai, not sure whether you'd be more or less relieved if he looked as lost as you.

he didn't, of course. he was completely attentive, eyes locked onto the board at the front of the room, nodding every once in a while in understanding. he didn't even seem to be taking many notes, though he did scribble a few down.

your eyes trailed down once more to his hands, where they fidgeted with his mechanical pencil. you felt that same feeling you did at 'annex', the same thought crossing your mind as when you saw his hands rest on the guitar—his hands, though nervous, were practiced and knowledgeable. and they really are such pretty hands, you thought.

you only came back to yourself when you heard the sound of chairs scraping and people scurrying, the hum of chatter from before resuming.

"you okay? you look..." kai trailed off, looking for a nice way to finish the sentence.

"like all my hopes and dreams of passing have been crushed to dust and i am now reconsidering all decisions that have led me to this moment?"

"uh, yeah, something like that," he laughed.

"i thought he was speaking another language, i felt so lost."

"to be fair, you're half-right, a lot of musical terms are based in—"

"in italian, i know."

you took a deep breath, putting your head in your hands, fingers tangling in your hair as you shook your head slowly.

"i am so undeniably, irrevocably, unequivocally fucked, hueningkai," you said, your tone so serious it almost made you laugh at yourself.

"come on, don't beat yourself up! i'm sure you'll get it!" he encouraged, tilting his head to the side with a half-smile. "hey, if it makes you feel any better, i felt like i had forgotten twenty-two years of learned comprehension skills in my literature class earlier."

"seriously? i love literature!"

"maybe we can help each other out, then."

you gave him a grin, the warmth of a new friendship alleviating the cold dregs of anxiety that still snaked through your stomach. "yeah, maybe so."

maybe this semester wouldn't be so bad.

•••

it was a grey, chilly october afternoon, the air heavy and damp with the coming storm. you glanced through the library study room window for the first time in hours, startled by the lack of light. you and hueningkai had been hunched over a library table, poring over your respective subjects for—how long had it been? four? maybe five hours now? your head swam with intervals and time signatures, scales and symbols you didn't understand.

"think of it like the math part of music," kai had tried to explain. "adding and subtracting different notes, chords, harmonies, dynamics n'stuff, to create an instrumental!"

you had nodded along, made the appropriate "ohhh"'s and "mhm"'s, but truthfully you were no closer to understanding how it worked than you had been when you started. you leaned back in your chair, sighing and wincing as your spine voicing its dissent at your posture.

your eyes fell on kai who was sat in front of you, eyes focused intently on a copy of 'the metamorphosis' by franz kafka, notebook and papers scattered haphazardly across the table. he didn't look to be in much better shape than you were, his brows furrowed and his hand tangled in his hair in a mix of concentration and frustration.

eventually, with a groan of annoyance, kai rested his head on the table, closing the book in defeat.

"but why is he a bug?"

"it's probably a metaphor."

"for what?"

you paused, thinking carefully. "for a lot of things! it depends on how you look at it," you said eventually, and giggled slightly at the unimpressed look on kai's face.

"well, let's see. what do you know about modernist literature?"

"that it was weird.".

"well, yes," you said in mock exasperation. "but what do you know about it historically?"

he thought for a moment, gears turning in his head as he thought back to the lecture notes he had just gone over. your eyes fell on his hands as they often did now, and you noticed that he seemed to be playing an imaginary piano as he thought, as if playing a melody only he could hear.

"let's see...uh, there was a lot of new stuff happening, like in science and psychology and inventions and whatnot," he began, glancing at you for approval and smiling slightly when you nodded at him to keep going.

"world war one had just happened, so there was a lot of unrest and social disorder, and a lot of anxiety and feelings of...maybe isolation? brought around by that," he said, nodding to himself.

"good, you're right! and what are some characteristics of modernist literature?" you asked, excited to be talking about something you understood for once. l

kai furrowed his brows once more, fingers playing that silent melody on the table again. you wondered if he was always composing, even if it was subconsciously.

"um...human thought? like the human psyche? language? perspective? am i even close to the mark here?" he laughed nervously.

"you are, you're doing great! those are all parts of it. so, in conjunction with the social context you mentioned before, maybe gregor being a bug is commentary on the feelings of isolation, loneliness, and anxiety of people during this time! maybe his dislike for his job and the coldness of his higher-ups and family is indicative of kafka's feelings on corporate bureaucracy and capitalism! maybe it's a metaphor for struggling with a chronic condition like an illness that causes the person to become not-themselves, and the rift that it creates in a family, who knows!

"that's the beauty of modernist literature, it all depends on perspective! instead of falling short because, of course, human language is inadequate at actually conveying things, it relies on that fact—the story is different to everyone!" you said excitedly.

literature and writing had really been the only two subjects that had come naturally to you. even music—which you loved and appreciated for it's artistry—was difficult to you when it came to the theory portion. it wasn't that you weren't good at other things, but you never had to work as hard to understand books. there was something in the analysis of it, picking apart the layers of a novel, building a broader historical and social context through the author's commentary—it was just fun for you.

you felt your face warm slightly as you looked back at kai, suddenly slightly embarrassed of your outburst. his expression was unreadable, somewhere between confusion, interest, epiphany, and something soft that sparkled just behind his eyes. it was similar to the glimmer you had seen in them at his first performance at 'annex' a month ago.

but he cleared his throat and looked back down at his notes, and it was gone.

"yeah, yeah, that, um, that makes sense. i hadn't thought about it that way. you'd make a good teacher," he added.

"i guess it's a good thing that it's what i want to do, then," you giggled.

"you want to teach?" he asked, 'the metamorphosis' now forgotten as he propped his chin up with his hand, leaning forward with interest.

you nodded, "mhm! i—well, i guess it's pretty obvious what i want to teach," you said sheepishly. "what about you? what are you majoring in? are you doing something with music?"

kai's expression hardened, and his hands ceased their playing on the table.

"no, i...i'm just majoring in business. i'm taking this class as an elective for credit hours, like you."

"what? really? but...don't you love music?" you asked, bewildered.

"of course i do, more than anything," he murmured, a wistful look in his eyes. "but it won't go anywhere. it doesn't make enough money, and i just...don't think i'm good enough for it to be a stable career choice, honestly."

you were genuinely floored. kai seemed puzzled at your bewildered expression, snickering a little at your wide eyes and mouth that was slightly ajar. eventually you found words again, shaking your head slightly as you spoke.

"not, not good—are you kidding ?! you don't think you're a good enough musician to have a career in it?!" you couldn't believe it. this boy who you believed to be a true star, who had music in every aspect of his being, didn't believe he was good enough to be a musician.

"well, i mean...no, not really," kai said hesitantly, obviously a little stunned by your reaction.

"sorry, it's just...i can't believe that," you scoffed, shaking your head again. "i can't believe it. you're amazing, i mean truly amazing—with all due respect, the other musicians at 'annex' have nothing on you."

you began to see that familiar tinge of red make its way across kai's face and ears as he smiled shyly.

"thank you, thanks, that—that means a lot, but...i mean, it's just such an oversaturated industry, y'know? everyone wants to make music and get famous. and it just, it sucks, because it's about the money and not the craft. i'm not an elitist or anything, there's a lot of modern music that i love! but it really bothers me to see music that isn't made out of expression or originality, but made for money or fame, y'know?"

you nodded slowly, feeling a pang of sadness for him. you wanted to tell him how good he really was, how the first time you had seen him perform you couldn't take your eyes off of him, how you admired the way his hands looked at home on the frets of a guitar, how he seemed music incarnate to you.

but the words seemed to stick in your throat, and all you could respond with was a choked, "yeah."

the silence that followed was denser than the air outside. you noticed it had finally begun to rain, sunset obscured by dark clouds as it came down in sheets of blue-grey. like kai's hair, you thought, before immediately shooing the idea away. you broke the silence first, standing and stretching your stiff limbs, groaning at the ache of sitting in one place for five hours.

"oh-kay, if we're gonna keep up this studying thing, i've got to get some caffeine in me before i actually fall asleep. are you down for coffee?" you asked, already throwing your binders and papers back into your backpack.

"yeah! yeah, for sure," kai responded, words still slightly stilted from the awkward silence.

you turned towards the door quickly, trying to suppress the thought of how cute he looked when he was embarrassed. you noticed his hands had begun playing again—a different, slower melody.

"wonderful! you're driving."

•••

"what do you mean the heating doesn't work? do you enjoy misery? do you crave death?" your voice came out shaky and uneven, spoken through chattering teeth as you felt the cold rain soak deeper into your clothes. hueningkai looked at you, face a mix of amused and apologetic.

"i told you, we should've gone in your car. here, there's blankets in the back," he reached back behind the passenger seat (putting you in close proximity, which you tried not to think about) and pulled out a fluffy throw blanket, which you gratefully accepted.

"no heating, no cameras, no nothing—dude, how old is this car?"

"well, i've had it since high-school," kai mused, "and it was my dad's before it was mine. it's from 2002, it's not that old!"

"is there even bluetooth in this thing?"

"nope, but there is a cd player!"

"oh god, it's like the fuckin' dark ages," you groaned dramatically, sliding down into the worn leather seat of kai's car. he rolled his eyes at your theatrics, scoffing at you as he pulled out of the library parking lot. you gave him a teasing smile, pointing to the glove box.

"cds are in here?"

he nodded, and you took that as permission to take a look for yourself.

"alright, let's see, what does mr. music theory have to listen to—oh, there's some good stuff in here! alice in chains, metallica, paramore—i love paramore, awesome, awesome...the offspring, so true—wait, holy shit, is this 'selfish machines'? i love pierce the veil!"

"and what do you know about pierce the veil?" kai laughed.

"hey, i thought you weren't an elitist," you teased. "i still like my middle school emo music, thank you very much. but my best friend from high-school loved pierce the veil, even saw them in concert once. this one and 'a flair for the dramatic' were their faves," you explained.

"they have good taste. that's the reissue, i think—the one from 2013?" when you gave a small hum of confirmation, kai continued, "i like that one. it has one of my favorite songs on it."

"oh, the bonus track, you mean? i like that one too—'kissing in cars', right?"

"mhm," he said, smiling as you opened the case and pushed the cd into the drive. the familiar fast drums and the piercing sound of the guitar filled the car, and you sighed, reminiscing on drives like this with your friend—simpler times. you had moved away, and they went to a different college now, but you still talk.

"they just have such a cool sound," kai observed, and you hummed in agreement, smiling slightly still.

"kai, you write your own music and stuff, right?" you inquired, suddenly curious.

"yeah, why?

"what's the hardest part about it, and what do you enjoy the most? composition? lyrics?"

"no one's ever asked me that before." kai looked slightly shocked at the question, but quickly shook his head, turning his eyes back to the road. "i think lyrics are the hardest. building instrumentals and making sure they flow together is fun, but putting lyrics to them isn't always easy. that whole thing about originality and expression applies here too—everything has been said in every way, and it's hard to find a way to express what i'm trying to say in a...i dunno, a meaningful way, an impactful way, y'know?"

"yes, i understand. the ineptitude of human language strikes again," you mused. "just like the modernists said."

kai went quiet, and you could see the gears turning in his head as the understanding dawned on him. "yeah...yeah, yes, exactly!" kai exclaimed excitedly. you smiled fondly.

"see, you got it! but yeah, i'd imagine lyrics are hard. i mean, just writing in general is hard, especially stuff like poetry."

"do you write?"

"mmm, sometimes! less than i used to—mostly just sporadic things typed into my phone at ungodly hours of the night when i just...need to get the feelings out. my poor notes app has seen lifetimes, it's a war zone in there," you laughed.

"makes sense! that's usually when i do my lyrics too, but more often than not, that's when i start producing. it's like as soon as the feeling hits me, the melody...just manifests in my head, and i have make it right then," kai responded eagerly.

you had completely lost track of the time, enraptured by the conversations, barely even registering when you pulled into the parking lot of the coffee shop. as the first notes of the final track on the album began to play, you moved to undo your seatbelt and get out of the car, but kai's hand on your wrist stopped you.

"wait, can we...can we listen to this one first?" he asked, seemingly shocked at his own actions, familiar blush becoming visible once more.

"yeah."

your voice was barely above a whisper, and you almost couldn't tell if you had said the words aloud. all your attention was focused on where kai's hand met yours, sending electricity through your entire body. when his hand finally moved from your wrist, you couldn't ignore the empty disappointment that settled in your chest.

this was the opposite of whatever you had felt in that classroom, or in any bar. it was like the world had disappeared, dissolved by the rain, the only remnants of it the sound of the downpour and the song playing softly from the speakers. as you watched kai as he listened to the music, you thought he looked almost worshipful, eyes closed and lips parted slightly, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, his hands once again playing invisible keys—in those moments, it truly felt like you were the only two people in the world.

this intimacy, the feeling of being alone with another person, it was almost suffocating—in the best way. like your lungs were full of energy that begged to be released instead of being choked by panic.

and though all you were doing was sitting in a car with a boy you had barely become friends with, listening to an old album on a shitty stereo, as surely thousands had done before you and thousands would after, it felt sacred—like it was an experience only you and kai could share.

the song began to fade out, and kai turned, opening his eyes and holding your gaze. starry, glimmering eyes—they held galaxies, universes. the feeling when you looked into them was a sensation not unlike vertigo; the force of it could've knocked you over had you been standing.

"we're here," kai murmured.

"yeah," you breathed.

"we should...go inside," he whispered again.

"yeah," you echoed, as if it was the only thing you knew how to say. he was the first to break the eye contact, nodding and giving a small smile as he turned off the car and opened the door.

everything rematerialized around you; the cars, the bustle, the people—the moment was over, and suddenly you were once again surrounded by the crushing weight of the world around you.

•••

it was a coincidence that kai happened to be playing at the bar you were going to. or, at least it was enough of a coincidence that you could convince yourself it was just a coincidence.

fall break had finally rolled around, and you had at last gotten into the swing of things, your grades were comfortable, mostly thanks to your study sessions with hueningkai that happened roughly twice a week—which you didn't want to admit were becoming more and more difficult to focus in.

predictably, beomgyu had insisted the two of you go out to celebrate the break.

"but it's for a good reason! to like....celebrate making it this far and stuff!" he whined at you from your doorway.

"don't give me that, you will take any excuse to get wasted, gyu," you answered, sprawled on your bed as you scrolled through your phone.

"that is not true, and i am offended that you would insinuate such a thing. on an unrelated note, pretty please can we go out tonight?"

you scoffed and rolled your eyes at his antics. truth be told, it's not like you were opposed to it—you'd probably appreciate the change in scenery from your less-than-impressive dorm room. you just didn't really want to go to the same three bars with the same six regulars and same four bands that play.

"fine, fine. since you have no other friends to bother, i'll be generous. but i pick the place," you added, ignoring the indignant, "hey!" from beomgyu. you were already scrolling through search results on your phone.

no. no. too small. too fancy. been there. been there. hate that one. you sighed, losing hope that there would be any new sights for you tonight, only shitty LEDS, chipped counters, and traffic lights.

it was then that you saw a new name on the familiar list of bars. 'divine machine', five miles away, in the heart of town.

"hm, that's new," you mumbled to yourself. you clicked through the links provided—the pictures of the inside looked extremely promising, though you didn't want to get your hopes up too much only to be tricked by good camerawork.

one of the links led you to the bar's instagram page. it was new, having just opened about two weeks ago. most of the posts were pictures of the inside, the stage, the bar—it seemed to be a metal or rock concert themed bar, which piqued your interest a lot. one of the posts was in the style of an 80's flyer that you would see advertising a band. 'new talent every night!' it read. 'come to divine machine to see stars be born!'

it was the picture that sold it for you. you'd recognize that piercing gaze and that blue-grey hair anywhere. hueningkai was the cover of the flyer, seemingly mid-performance—hands poised perfectly on the frets, hair tousled, in the throes of whatever song he had been captured performing. trying to ignore the way your heart leaped in your chest, you offered your phone to beomgyu, hopefully looking nonchalant.

"what about this one?" you asked. "it's new."

"ooh, exciting! yeah, sounds good!"

"you don't care where we go as long as there's alcohol, right?"

"i'm going to stop inviting you if you keep being mean to me."

"you'd be going out alone."

"that is irrelevant and untrue."

you found yourself at the entrance of 'divine machine' three hours later, still trying to convince yourself that you were not hoping to see kai perform again. he's just talented, you told yourself. i appreciate good musicianship.

immediately, you were much more impressed with this bar than any of the others. the photos didn't lie—the place was spacious and clean, boasting a large stage near the front of the room, decked out like a rock concert with speakers and microphones and scary-looking instruments, prop black leather jackets hanging off some of the speakers and spotlights of all colors pointed in different directions. posters of bands—some familiar, some obscure, lined the walls, along with a selection of guitars that appeared to have signatures on them. the haze from the smoke machine was tinted blue-purple from the lights overhead—it was well-lit, you had to give them that.

"this is pretty promising," you whispered to beomgyu, who you knew was only half-listening as he read the drinks on the menu.

it was early on in the night—well, as early as early could be for a bar, only about 8:30p.m.—but groups of people were already filtering in and mingling. you felt the familiar grip of anxiety on your chest, subconsciously shrinking back into the bar.

beomgyu noticed immediately, drinks forgotten as he looked at you worriedly.

"hey, if you don't want to do this, we can go home. i know this isn't easy for you," he began, reaching for his bag that he had set on a barstool. you shook your head probably a little too quickly.

"no, i'm—i'm okay," you managed to get out. "sorry. i'll be fine, just takes some getting used to, don't worry."

"don't be sorry! it's okay. the offer still stands, whenever you're ready to go we'll go, okay?" gyu said, taking you by the shoulders. you felt your heart grow warm at your best friend's sincerity.

you had met beomgyu your sophomore year at college, having a statistics class with him and sharing a desk. the trauma of that class had bonded the two of you for life. your friendship had grown closer over the next two years, your juxtaposed dispositions balancing each other out well. and though gyu was a troublemaker and a tease, he was nothing if not caring. he knew when to stop and always knew how to make you feel more comfortable.

"okay. don't worry," you repeated, trying to convince yourself more than anything.

"i'm not worrying. it's you who's—well, look who it is!" beomgyu's gaze moved over your shoulder as he waved excitedly at someone behind you. you didn't have to guess who, smile already pulling at the corners of your mouth, and heart rate picking up as you turned around to see kai approaching the two of you.

he looked similar to the first time you had seen him perform, if not more decked out in his rocker attire. ripped black jeans with chains falling from the belt loops, combat boots, studded bracelets and silver rings, a black muscle tee, and the same leather battle vest that you noticed had more patches added since last time.

honestly, it's a wonder you noticed any details at all; you were mentally cursing yourself as you tried and failed to divert your attention from kai's arms, the conversation him and gyu were having entirely lost upon you. he's stronger than he looks, i suppose, you thought to yourself. i don't think i've ever seen him not in a t-shirt or hoodie.

your half-hearted attempts at convincing yourself that you were staring out of shock, not awe, were cut short by beomgyu shoving your shoulder slightly, snapping you from your thoughts.

"quit spacing out over there, are you even listening?" he asked, rolling his eyes dramatically, earning a snicker from kai. you felt your face flush as you forced your eyes to the floor.

"as i was saying, kai, you should let us visit backstage after your performance! we should get VIP treatment, i did give you my phone charger three days ago," gyu stated matter-of-factly. "and this," he pulled you close to him by the shoulders, "is my plus-one."

"i'll consider it," he laughed.

"don't worry about it if it's too much, you don't have to listen to him, he's dramatic." you cut your eyes at beomgyu at the last comment, and he stuck his tongue out in return.

"no, no, it's fine! i wouldn't mind at all! but, i've gotta run guys, have to go get set up and all," kai said, motioning to the stage and beginning to back towards it.

"don't let us keep you, rockstar. break a leg!" you smiled brightly at kai, who started at the nickname before smiling back, waving and turning towards the stage.

once kai was out of earshot, beomgyu whipped around towards you with a ferocity that made you jump slightly.

"and what the hell was that?!"

"jesus christ, what is wrong with—"

"nono, i asked first."

"i have no idea what you're talking about."

"you gave him a nickname," beomgyu said incredulously. "you don't even call me a nickname."

"and i am not starting now," you said through gritted teeth, blush hopefully hidden by the hazy lighting. "it was a one-time-joke thing, nothing interesting. let's go, we can't get close to the stage if we don't hurry."

and hurry you did, despite beomgyu's teasing, earning yourselves pretty decent spots in the crowd. you sipped water this time, hoping your nerves weren't too visible.

eventually, scattered applause broke you from your conversation with beomgyu, and you turned to see kai walking out on stage.

"hi, guys—i'm kai," kai said. you gave a small cheer, clapping softly. kai gave you a knowing smile before continuing, the sudden confidence flustering you a bit. "i'm going to be playing some music for you guys. i don't have a bunch of original stuff, but i have some pretty great covers lined up, alright?"

scattered cheers resounded throughout the crowd, and kai prepared to play the first song. you recognized the intro immediately, and couldn't help but give an incredulous laugh.

"this is pierce the veil!" you said excitedly to beomgyu.

"huhwhat?" beomgyu asked, attention torn away from the beverage he was nursing.

"he's playing pierce the veil! it's 'the new national anthem', from 'selfish machines'!"

"you like them right? those are the ones you n'your friend like?" beomgyu's voice already slurred slightly, even though he couldn't have had more than two drinks already.

"yeah!" you giggled, cheering for kai as he played. you couldn't help but wonder if he did that because of you.

once again, you found yourself hypnotized by kai's performance. all of his nerves and endearing awkwardness seemed to have dissolved, leaving behind a passionate and practiced musician. you were again struck with just how confident and right he looked on that stage, and felt a wave of sadness remembering your conversation in the library.

you couldn't believe he didn't think he was good enough. you thought he was everything.

after a few more covers and a few originals (your favorite of which you think was called "growing pain"), you found yourself being dragged by a tipsy beomgyu behind the stage and into the dressing room where kai waited.

"bro, that was a-mazing, you're so, jus' so talented," beomgyu declared, throwing his arms around kai who tried fervently to push him off.

"do not touch me, i am so warm, please go away—choi beomgyu, if you get sick on me, so help me god, i will kill you," kai laughed. you shook your head, rolling your eyes and laughing as well.

"have some mercy on him kai, he's a lightweight," you said with a tone of mock pity, which beomgyu stuck his tongue out at.

"m'not a lightweight. i'm fine, i'm literally normal," he began, trying to walk in a straight line to prove his point, only to crash down onto one of the sofas, only causing you and kai to laugh more.

"this is bullying..."

"this is the consequences of your own actions," you corrected.

you and kai sat down on the sofa opposite beomgyu, kai sprawling out with his head tilted back, exhausted. you noted how much more confident he looked, the adrenaline of performing still coursing through him, the stage persona not fully faded away.

"that really was amazing. you played pierce the veil!" you exclaimed.

"yeah, i did! i learned that song ages ago, but i guess i only recently remembered it."

"i was excited! and i liked the originals too, of course—'growing pain', i think you called it, just absolutely fantastic. i loved the whole thing," you gushed, feeling slightly embarrassed at how excited you were.

"i'm glad, i appreciate it. wow, not even a professional and i've already got a fanbase," he teased. you rolled your eyes, punching him in the arm.

"shut up. you have no such thing. i just recognize talent when i see it," you quipped, hoping the sarcasm in your voice hid your shyness.

"whatever you say—but i mean, coming to all my shows, meeting me backstage...from where i stand, you look like a regular groupie." his voice was teasing and bold, more playful—no, flirtatious—than you were used to. it stopped you cold.

not quite cold—you were very warm, actually. you realized with shame how the words had made your stomach flip, your heart stuttering at the tone. heat crept through your face as you attempted to form a response. the words wouldn't come, your eyes blown wide, mouth opening and closing with no sound.

kai seemed stunned by his own words, blush tinting his face too. you held his gaze, unable to look away from his eyes. they were wide with embarrassment, still bright from adrenaline, the embers of that playful boldness still not fully gone out. you saw it again, that soft glow in them, and you wondered what it was he could be thinking about.

"ew, oh my god, get a room," beomgyu whined from where he sprawled dramatically on the couch. the moment was over, the both of you suddenly remembering where you were. you both glared at beomgyu, each grumbling some form of "shut up".

beomgyu held his hands up in mock surrender, slouching back down onto the couch and closing his eyes. you shot a glance at kai, sharing a sly smile with him when he met your gaze.

again, you couldn't shake that feeling when he looked at you—that you were the only two people on earth.

•••

this was the last thing you needed during finals season.

you had wondered how long it was going to take before you cracked under the stress of it all, and that time had finally come, at the worst possible time.

it had been a straight twenty-eight hours of no sleep—twenty-eight head-pounding, jittery, exhausting hours spent poring over books that had stopped looking like words about four hours ago. your laptop's search-engine screen seemed burned into the back of your eyelids, assignments and deadlines swimming before your burning, red-rimmed eyes.

you felt like hell. not just physically, but emotionally too. every time you left your room, you could feel millions of eyes on you, a building, pulsing sense of dread that crawled its way from your stomach to your lungs to your throat, choking even basic conversations to shaky one-word answers.

it was raining again, that december day; the world outside tinted blue and grey with winter. it was like the weather couldn't put forth the effort to be bright either. hueningkai sat across from you, as he always did, once again looking about as disheveled as you. his hair had faded to a dull blue with black roots, much longer than it had been when you had first met him.

you turned your attention back to your own essay assignment, words fading in and out of focus on your laptop screen. essays were usually easy—but having to do four in the span of two days was beginning to take its toll. you heard a sigh from in front of you as kai leaned back in his chair, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

"hmm?" you hummed quizzically.

"i can't even see straight anymore, i'm so tired. i feel like i've been at this one assignment for years," he groaned.

you nodded in agreement, rubbing your own eyes to hopefully clear some of the blur, the throbbing in your head becoming worse by the second. "i feel you."

"i feel like im suffocating in here, don't you feel...choked, in a space like this?"

you hummed again, only half-listening, trying to focus your attention on the assignment at hand and not the knife in your head. you preferred the library to anywhere else, especially now, seeing as being around and talking to people seemed to be getting harder and harder.

"you can go somewhere else if you'd like, if it'll help you study better."

"we could go—"

"i told you already, i cannot go to 'divine machine'. i—i know it's not busy hours, i cannot go, i'm sorry."

kai seemed taken aback by your sharp words. he was right, you were starting to feel choked in the dusty study room, surrounded by the pounding in your head and the awareness of another person's presence.

the shame was upon you all at once, both at having snapped like that, and of having another person see you this way—especially someone you genuinely liked. the fluorescent lights above suddenly became glaringly bright, humming with previously unnoticed electricity. you became aware of your clothes, how they didn't feel clean, how your hair wasn't clean and stuck to your scalp, how your body ached from stagnation, how everything around you suddenly felt wrong—too bright, too close, too loud.

dread is cold. dread is a heavy, oozing thing that sits in your stomach and slowly infects you. panic? panic is hot. you can feel the way the flames of it flare and writhe their way into every part of your body. hands, arms, stomach, chest, throat, eyes, face—all burning with the shame of being perceived. you can feel every nerve ending in your body and everything it is interacting with, all sound drowned out by the blood throbbing in your head.

kai gave a small scoff, shrugging his shoulders and returning his gaze back to his assignment. "yeah, no, it's fine, i get it. people are scary."

and you knew he didn't mean it like that. but that was all it took. you shoved yourself back from the desk, grabbing your things and storming out the door, the only thing on your mind getting somewhere dark and quiet—somewhere with no people. your throat burned and tears dripped down your face, blurring your already-foggy vision. you stumbled towards the library door, finding it harder and harder to breathe. you didn't even hear kai calling after you.

everywhere you looked, everywhere you turned, there were people. people, people everywhere—you couldn't escape them. countless eyes focused on you, more than would even be possible, but you could feel it. the whole world was watching you fall apart, watching you ruin a friendship you tried so hard to build. he can see me, i'm embarrassing myself, was all you could think. he thinks i'm stupid. this is stupid. he thinks i'm embarrassing. this is embarrassing. i'm an embarrassment. why would he ever want me? even if he did, i am scaring him away, i'm too much, i have to leave, i'm too much, i have to get out, it's too much, too much, too—

and suddenly you were outside, the cold december rain sending a shock through your system. you took a deep, ragged inhale, the shock from the cold allowing a moment of clarity. as you slowly staggered to your dorm hall (you had the fleeting thought of how grateful you were to live so close by), the embers of shame still hot within your chest, you thought of kai.

you opened the door to your room. you thought of kai. you gently closed it behind you. no one was home but you. you were completely alone, in a dark and quiet room. you thought of kai. you slid down the back of the door, knees to your chest as the tears came once more. you thought of kai. kai who you desperately wanted to see you in a good light, who you wanted to be different for, who you put yourself out there for, who you had fallen for.

you thought of his hair falling into his eyes as he played guitar, you thought of the way his brows furrowed in concentration, you thought of his loud, goofy laugh, you thought of his hands and their inaudible melodies.

you thought of how sure of himself he had looked on stage at 'divine machine', like he belonged on the stage in front of all those people. you thought of how pathetic you felt, knowing that now he knew. you had tried so hard, but now he knew that you couldn't even handle a library.

when the first knock came at the door, it was so soft that you thought you might've imagined it. you remained slumped against the door, tears gone but eyes still burning. then it came again, more frantic this time.

"hey, are you in there? it—it's me, it's kai." his voice was muffled behind the door, but you could still hear that he sounded shaky and slightly out of breath.

"i'm here."

"can i...come in?"

"no."

"...can i ask why?"

you sniffled, wiping your eyes and trying to smooth down your hair. "i look terrible."

"i mean, if it makes you feel any better, i look like they just dredged me out of the ocean."

you scoffed a little at that, smiling despite yourself.

"i'm sorry for what i said. i didn't mean it that way, but i still shouldn't have said it. it's not fair to you," kai said after a beat of silence.

"no, no, i get it. i know you didn't mean it, i'm sorry for freaking out, i should've reacted better, i'm just—i am really, really stressed, and it, like, all crashed down on me at once, a-and—"

"it's okay. you don't have to be sorry, i'm not upset at you or anything—you can't help it."

"i just...i feel like i should be able to help it, y'know? i've lived with it for this long, i should be able to cope with this stuff." your voice shook with frustration, new tears threatening to fall.

"i understand. i really do, i know it doesn't," there was a pause like he was reconsidering, and you had the mental image of him dragging a hand through his hair. "it doesn't seem like i do. but...whenever i perform, like onstage—the minute and a half before i begin to play is the scariest moment. i can feel everyone's eyes on me, the weight of their expectations is so...so overwhelming, it gets hard to breathe. for that minute and a half, every bad thing i've ever believed about myself becomes true, and it feels like everyone can see it," kai's voice shook slightly with the confession, and you wondered if this is the first time he's ever told anyone this. "no matter how many times i perform, that initial fear will always be there."

"you seem so sure of yourself up there. when you begin to play, i mean. it's like you were...made to perform, or something," you murmured, half-hoping he didn't hear you.

"it's all practice. and it's because i love it. it's like you, when you explain literature or writing stuff—it's like the nerves melt away. the joy comes back, y'know? the thing you're doing it for, it overrides the fear. it doesn't mean the fear isn't still there, but it isn't as overpowering."

there was a silence again, longer this time.

"i wanted to write. did i ever tell you that?" you began. "i want to teach, sure—i mean, i love explaining things, but truly what i always wanted to do was write. but i couldn't get over the fear. i could not stand the idea of people...thinking about me. perceiving me in a way i couldn't control, i guess? it used to keep me up at night, honestly. at least in a classroom, i know what i'm doing is for the greater good—whether the students like me or not. but writing? i guess i just—"

"don't feel like you're good enough, so you chose the safer option?"

the silence that followed spoke volumes—lifetimes of dreams crushed by the realities of life and survival.

"can you please let me in? please?" it was spoken so softly, but the gentleness with which it was said nearly brought you to tears again. slowly, you pushed yourself from the floor.

you met his eyes as the door swung open—wide and glimmering as they always were, and he looked as though he had been crying as well. there were a few seconds of tense silence, and the world seemed to stop and hold its breath. kai's mouth was open slightly, like he was trying to find words to say. you broke the silence first, your eyes remaining locked on his.

"i'm sorry to make you come all this way in the rain, you really didn't—"

before you could finish your sentence, kai was through the doorway, wrapping you in his arms tightly. you froze, unsure of how to react.

the feeling was there again, the same as it was in the car back in october—there with him, you were the only two people on earth. you slowly relaxed, reaching your arms around to hug him back, burying your face into his shoulder. he's so tall, you thought.

"thank you," you whispered. kai just nodded in affirmation, fingers unconsciously grazing up and down your back soothingly. you had the fleeting thought that it was like he was playing guitar.

"you're really cold. and wet," you whispered again. you felt his soft laughter reverberate through him, making you smile into the crook of his neck.

"that's on you for making me trek all this way, in the rain, in december."

"you didn't have to follow me, you cannot put that on me."

"and what was i gonna do, just leave you?"

you went quiet at that, realizing that's exactly what you expected him to do. that's what you'd expected of everyone your whole life. you truly felt as though if you didn't constantly have it under control, people would see you and know. you weren't quite sure what they would know, but they would know, and they would see you differently forever. you didn't respond, only held kai a little tighter.

"it's really dark in here. cold too. do...you maybe want to go back to my place and get warm?" kai's voice was hesitant, like the gravity of the words hindered them from being spoken.

after what felt like an eternal silence, you nodded slowly.

"yeah."

•••

it was exactly what you thought it would look like.

posters and pictures lined the walls of hueningkai's room, pops of sharp color and vivacity along an almost-black navy blue wall. you felt a smile forming on your face at the plushies—honestly an unprecedented amount of them. the room was was a bit smaller than you had expected, but cozy in a way. the curtains had been pulled back and the blinds open to let in as much natural light as possible—which wasn't a lot at the moment because of the rain.

it was kind of messy, like the rest of the apartment—a fact you only remembered when upon arrival, you were met with the same bike in the kitchen you had seen four months ago. papers that looked to be sheet music were scattered across his desk and bed, some printed, some seemingly hand drawn staffs and notes. kai turned pink at this, immediately attempting to collect and reorganize, muttering apologies all the while.

what really interested you were the instruments. you noticed the guitar immediately, a sight familiar from watching kai's performances. he also, you noticed, had a bass guitar, a computer set up with a mic—and all the way in the corner, a keyboard. you almost laughed aloud.

"what is it?" kai asked.

"nothing, nothing, i just...i dunno, i knew you played piano. i just knew it," you chuckled.

"and how could you have known that?"

"maybe i'm psychic."

"or something like that."

you picked up one of the closest plushies to you and threw it at kai's head.

"okay, ouch. i chase after you in the rain, take you back to my apartment, offer you shelter, and this is the thanks i get?"

"will you just go shower—before i throw another one at you," you threatened, giggling. kai rolled his eyes at you once more before ducking into the hall. you settled down on the floor, not wanting to mess up the bed; you were still slightly damp from the storm outside. you leaned against a bedpost, taking in everything around you. it was so...him. it was slightly messy, but warm, cozy—with vibrant bursts of life.

you noticed kai had dropped one of the music sheets in his fervor to clean them. so—glancing at the closed door—you began to read it.

from what you could tell, this part was written for a guitar—which, you felt as though you should've gotten an award for understanding anything about it at all, all that studying did something. you were impressed with kai's dedication; he had drawn everything out himself, including the staffs and markings.

as you were poring over this paper, trying to mentally sound out what the song sounded like, you heard the doorknob turn. you quickly shoved the paper off to the side, trying to look as nonchalant as possible.

"your turn," kai called, slicking his wet hair out of his face.

"mhm," you replied, trying not to stare as you grabbed the clothes you brought from your dorm and headed for the bathroom.

•••

you left the shower feeling lighter than before, the world seeming less horrible when you were clean and warm. you took a deep breath in, and felt your heart skip as you realized that you smelled like kai. you had brought clothes, but not your shower things, so you had to settle for his.

as you approached kai's bedroom door, you stopped just before turning the handle. you could hear noise from inside, something that sounded like a guitar.

you knew you probably shouldn't eavesdrop. you knew music was very important to kai, so listening to him compose and practice felt...invasive?

the song was familiar, and after a few moments you realized that it was the song from the paper you had found. you felt a fleeting burst of pride that what you had sounded out in your head hadn't been too obscenely far off, but that was quickly forgotten.

it was a beautiful song, even though you could only hear one instrument's part. it was slower than the other things you had heard him perform. if you strained, you could hear kai humming the beginnings of a melody over his playing—and every once in a while, it would stop, the sound of pencil scratching paper and kai talking to himself replacing it.

eventually, the guilt of eavesdropping won, and you knocked on the door to announce your presence.

"feel any better?" kai asked, moving the guitar and music off of the bed.

"much. the world doesn't suck as bad when you're clean and warm. i'm just very—" your sentence was broken by a yawn,"—sorry, very tired," you finished.

"well, rest here. you're welcome to take a nap," kai said, half-smiling.

you gave him a sleepy, half-lidded smile as you sat down beside him. "i heard you playing when i got out," you confessed eventually.

kai laughed and shook his head, embarrassed.

"ah, i see. hopefully i didn't sound too crazy, i tend to talk to myself."

"only a little crazy," you giggled. a hush fell over the room, the only sound the muffled tapping of the rain on the roof. eventually, you asked in a quiet voice: "what's the one you were playing? what's it called?"

kai looked slightly wary—this was obviously something he didn't talk with a lot of people about. you supposed people are difficult, no matter who you are.

"if you don't want to tell me, then that's okay too—"

"no, no, i was just stunned," kai answered quickly. "it's called 'dreamer'."

"when'd you write it? and...why, if you don't mind me asking?" at that, kai's expression turned a bit more solemn.

"i wrote it in november, when i had an argument with someone in family over wanting to do music as a job. she said it was stupid, pointless—it's not a real job, that i couldn't make anything or go anywhere from it," he said, brows furrowed in distaste at the memory. "this one feels like...i dunno, being trapped between being a kid and an adult—being expected to make something of yourself but wanting to preserve the dreams you had for your life."

you nodded along slowly, knowing the feeling all too well. you'd been told the same thing all your life—that writing would never get anywhere, that it wasn't a stable career, that you couldn't handle it. eventually, you began to believe it.

"will you play it for me?" it was out of your mouth before you could think about it, the sound barely louder than the rain outside. "only if you want to," you added quickly.

kai looked at you, expression a mix of nervous and content, and gave u a small nod and a half-smile before picking up his guitar.

you closed your eyes as he began to play. the world outside was nothing but distant memory, the only things real to you right now were the smell of kai's room, the rain on the windows, and the sound of guitar that floated throughout the room.

kai hummed that melody over his playing again, more confidently this time. you swayed, exhaustion hitting you like a wave as you relaxed for the first time in probably a month. you breathed out a sigh of content, resting against kai's shoulder.

all at once the playing stopped. after a few moments, you opened your eyes and turned to see kai, hands still positioned on the guitar frets, but music long forgotten as your eyes met his. you saw it again, the glimmer in them. you wanted nothing more than to fall into them, fall through their shifting hues and constellations forever.

the silence was tense, all noise drowned out by your own heartbeat as you held kai's gaze. slowly, cautiously, kai closed the space between the two of you, softly brushing his lips to yours before pulling away a bit and locking eyes with you again.

"was that okay?"

"yeah."

"...can i—"

"yeah, yeah."

you closed the gap this time, four and a half months of built-up tension suddenly released as you kissed him, hands slowly sliding up his shoulders to pull him closer to you. kai sighed shakily into the kiss in something almost like relief, one arm wrapping around your waist and the other hand resting lightly on the back of your head—like he was asking for permission to bring you closer still.

memories of the last four months—the first time you saw him play, whispering in classrooms, days spent in the library, nights spent looking up at him admiringly from below a stage, they all swam in your head.

for the first time, kai's hands were inexperienced and hesitant, unsure of where to go and what to do. pulling away from the kiss slightly, you rested your hands on top of his—moving the fingers of one to slide up into your hair, and moving the other to rest between your shoulder blades, where you began to feel the familiar rhythm of his fingers playing their inaudible melodies—slower this time, almost soothingly as your lips met his once more.

you couldn't think of anything else but him—he was all you could see, could hear, could smell; fragments of poems wrote themselves and dissolved as at last the two of you pulled away, the only sound your shaky breathing. you rested your forehead against his, eyes closed, slight smile on your face, and you had the notion that you could've written novels, volumes—all the beautiful prose in the world could not have described the way you felt at that moment with him.

•••

you were grateful for the reprieve from the the scorching may heat as you ducked into the cool, dark building. even though the sun was setting, it was still uncomfortably warm, humidity that spoke of rain to come making the air sticky and heavy.

you smiled slightly at the crowd that had gathered, though the show was still fifteen minutes from starting. kai had garnered a lot of fans in the last few months, and you felt your heart swell with pride at your boyfriend's success.

for the first time in—well, maybe ever, you were at 'divine machine' alone. beomgyu had other plans tonight, and usually that meant a night in for you—but you really wanted to see kai's performance.

you knew the fear was still there. it ebbed and flowed, crescendoed and subsided in your head. you admit it had improved, but you knew it would always be there. it not controlling you was enough, and you took an ironic kind of comfort in knowing that you weren't ever alone, and that you had people to help you—that not everyone was against you.

the lights began to dim, and scattered cheers rippled throughout the audience, growing louder as you saw kai walk on stage and wave at the audience. you couldn't help the smile that spread across your face.

he'd changed a good bit in the months since you'd met him. his once blue-grey hair was now jet black, and had grown out to his shoulders. half of it was thrown haphazardly in a bun, and his bangs fell into his eyes as he adjusted the mic stand. you noted he didn't have to do it as much anymore—being a regular performer does have its perks.

kai was broader, and somehow looked even taller. you imagined it was the confidence he had built over months of performing. he gave his familiar half-smile at the audience, and you could've fallen in love all over again.

"hi, guys! if you don't know me already, i'm kai. i'm gonna be playing some music for you guys tonight, alright?" as he spoke, he plugged the amp into his guitar, the feedback crackling through the room. "it's mostly originals, but there'll be some covers thrown in too."

you could never get tired of watching kai play. the way he put every fiber of his being into the music—he became it. your eyes settled again on his hands, somehow more confident and at home than they had ever looked. his voice carried through the room, filled it, leaving no space for the troubles or tribulations of whatever was outside the double doors.

you had begun to memorize his setlists, but sometimes he surprised you. after his usual four original songs, kai pulled a chair to the front of the stage, lowering the mic stand and sitting down. he made eye contact with you from across the stage, and you furrowed your brows questioningly. he just winked, gave you a small grin, and began to talk into the mic.

"i've only got two songs left, an original and a cover. this one is called 'dreamer', and i'd be remiss if i didn't give credit where it's due. this song and its lyrics wouldn't exist without someone very important to me, and i want them to know that i wouldn't be here performing if they had not given me the inspiration to." kai gazed at you lovingly from where he sat, and tears sprung to your eyes at the confession.

"the next is not as well-known. i haven't played it before, but i couldn't do 'dreamer' and not play this one, too. it's called 'kissing in cars', by pierce the veil."

you thought back to the memories made over the last nine months as he began to play. from meeting him, to building a friendship, to falling in love, you looked on every moment—even the bad ones—with fondness and gratitude. the two of you had written 'dreamer' together a month after you had gotten together. it started as you bursting into his apartment as soon as it was daylight, having not slept. the beginnings of the lyrics had come to you in the middle of the night, pulling you out of sleep and demanding to be written down. over the course of two weeks, you had helped him create the song in its entirety. you had seen him play it before, but it still brought you close to tears every time.

as 'dreamer' ended and hueningkai began to play the first notes of 'kissing in cars', it hit you just how lucky you were. it wasn't quite luck—or gratitude, or joy, or sadness, or even just love. you couldn't describe the emotion that now overwhelmed you. it coursed through you, the crowd around you melting away. the only thing you could think about was kai. words came together and broke apart, fragments of lyrics and poems born and destroyed as you searched for a way to describe what you were feeling.

you couldn't. as kai moved into the final chorus, just like back in december, you realized that you couldn't describe it. so many have tried, in so many ways, and you knew it would never be enough. you smiled as the song ended, tears slipping from your eyes as you cheered, trying to express this wonderful, exhilarating, indescribable feeling. you knew there were no words, no music, no art, nothing that could capture what you felt at that moment.

and maybe that is what made it so beautiful.