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cookienha · 5 months

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☆ new years with zb1

¦ ot9!zb1 x gn!reader, fluff

¦ warnings: established relationships, pet names, kisses

¦ a/n: i rlly never thought zb1 n bnd would bring me so much happiness in such a short time but here we are 🥹 wishing you all a blessed 2024 filled with happiness and great health!!! happy new years everyone!!! <3

kim jiwoong !!

The countdown neared midnight, Jiwoong and I stood on the rooftop, the chilly air wrapped around us as we exchanged a glance, smiles mirroring the promise of a new year.

When the clock struck twelve, his hand intertwined with mine. Fireworks erupted, painting the sky with bursts of color and in that fleeting moment, amidst the cheers and laughter, Jiwoong whispered, "Here's to new beginnings, Y/N."

The fireworks mirrored the explosion of emotions between us. In that stolen moment, our lips met, sealing a pact for the year ahead.

zhang hao !!

In Zhang Hao's hometown, the New Year was a tapestry woven with family traditions. His ancestral home echoed with laughter and the aroma of festive feasts. I decided to spend the start into a new year with my boyfriend's family, as he'd invited me to.

In the evenings, I joined the bustling kitchen, sharing laughs and stories while mastering the art of dumpling-making, the Zhang's family recipe. "Try the dumplings, Y/N, they're a family recipe," his mother insisted, her eyes twinkling with pride.

During the night, while awaiting the countdown, his father recounted tales of the town's history, eyes lighting up with nostalgia. "This town has seen generations of joy and resilience," he said, a deep sense of belonging in his voice. Me and Hao sat on the floor, hands intertwined, absorbed in the tales of old time. When the clock struck midnight, we gathered in the courtyard, enveloped in the warmth of family. Hao's relatives teased, "So, when are we getting wedding bells, you two?" He simply blushed, chuckling as his ears turned red but his eyes held a promise.

In his cherished hometown, amidst familial banter and shared laughter, we welcomed the New Year with love, stories, and the anticipation of future chapters.

sung hanbin !!

Soft music played in the background as we prepared a makeshift feast of comfort foods. The scent of homemade dishes filled the air of my apartment, creating a haven of shared moments. As the clock approached midnight, we stood by the window, awaiting the distant fireworks that'll soon paint the night sky. We shared stories, laughed, and embraced each other in the cozy air of the apartment.

"Here's to a year of laughter, love, and endless possibilities," Hanbin said, smiling, his eyes sparkling with warmth as we raised our glasses of champagne. The clink echoed in our quiet celebration.

"I love you," He says. "Thank you for being mine, angel." When the clock finally struck twelve, his lips met mine.

"I love you too." I smiled against the kiss, a promise sealed in the intimacy of our own space.

seok matthew !!

The New Year's Eve atmosphere was intimate and warm in his apartment. Matthew, with his charming demeanor, took charge of the playlist, curating a blend of nostalgic tunes and upbeat melodies.

As we lounged on the couch, he flashed a mischievous smile and said, "Care for a dance before the countdown, my love?" He extended his hand, and I couldn't resist the invitation. We swayed to the music, creating our own private celebration in the living room. Our laughter mixed with the melodies, turning our small space into a dance floor filled with shared moments. When the countdown neared, we stood close, his arms wrapped around me. As the clock struck midnight, our lips met in a gentle kiss, a silent promise of countless more dances and shared memories in each other's embrace.

kim taerae !!

As the final moments of the year ticked away, Taerae's fingers gracefully danced across the strings of his guitar.

In the soft glow of fairy lights, his cozy bedroom transformed into an intimate concert space, occasionally laughing when we heard his nembers' creating a scene outside the door.

The melody he crafted filled the air, creating a serene atmosphere just for the two of us to enjoy.

"Here's to new beginnings," Taerae whispered, his voice blending with the gentle strumming. I sat mesmerized, captivated by the emotion in each note. The music wrapped around us, a tender embrace that transcended words. As the clock approached midnight, he set aside the guitar, and we sat together, facing the unknown. With a subtle smile, he pressed a sweet kiss against my forehead, his way of saying, "Here's to another year of melodies and moments, just you and me."

shen ricky !!

In the setting of Ricky's lavish penthouse, New Year's Eve unfolded like a scene from a glamorous movie.

The panoramic view of the city sparkled beneath us as we stood on the private terrace, sharing stories and laughters in the comfort of each other.

The clock quickly approached midnight and his eyes met mine in a silent acknowledgment of the year's end. With a flourish, he raised his glass and declared, "To a year filled with even grander adventures, princess."

The countdown echoed through the luxurious space. As the clock struck twelve, he placed a soft kiss on my forehead, a silent promise of another year in his luxurious world of warmth.

kim gyuvin !!

The New Year's Eve countdown approached and we found ourselves in the midst of joyful chaos with his fellow members, laughter echoing through the cozy dorm as we shared stories and prepared a feast. In the living room adorned with fairy lights, Gyuvin's eyes sparkled with warmth. Amidst the lively banters and shared laughters, he subtly intertwined our fingers, a quiet reassurance in the midst of the celebration. The room buzzed louder with excitement as the clock approached midnight.

At midnight, surrounded by the people who meant the most to him, Gyuvin initiated a series of heartfelt hugs with his members, each embrace speaking volumes of the trust they shared.

As the last hug concluded, he turned to me with a smile, his arms welcoming me into the final hug, marking the beginning of a new year in the embrace of the comfort we found in each other.

park gunwook !!

New Year's Eve was a tapestry of tradition and warmth in Gunwook's familial haven. The fragrance of home-cooked delicacies wafted through the air as we gathered in the cozy living room, surrounded by the comforting laughter of his family. His parents welcomed me with open arms, sharing stories that intertwined with the crackling fireplace.

Gunwook's older brother, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, nudged him as if to say, "Finally, you brought someone home." The house echoed with the harmonious blend of familial banter. As the clock approached midnight, Gunwook's father led us in a traditional New Year's toast.

Gunwook caught my eye, his smile conveying a promise of shared moments in the year ahead.

When the clock struck twelve, we stood together as we marvelled at the fireworks display outside the window. His hand was intertwined with mine, welcoming the new year in the warm embrace of his home and the love that permeated each corner.

han yujin !!

As the New Year's Eve countdown commenced, Yujin and I found ourselves physically miles apart but emotionally connected through a video call.

Cupcakes, adorned with colorful frosting and sprinkles, were our shared virtual treat for the occasion. Our laughter echoed through the screen as we exchanged stories and reminisced about the year, smiling ear to ear.

In the backdrop of our respective spaces, we lit candles for a makeshift celebration. The digital connection bridged the gap, turning mere pixels into shared smiles. When the countdown reached it's final moments, Yujin held up his cupcake to the camera and I mirrored the gesture on my end. With a synchronized "Happy New Year!", We both blew out the candles simultaneously, the soft glow of our screens capturing the warmth of our shared moment. In the simplicity of a video call and the sweetness of virtual cupcakes, we welcomed the new year with hopes and aspirations, our shared dreams interweaving through the pixels on the screen. It was a celebration not only of the passing time but also of the growth and admiration that marked our journey together into the promising chapters of the coming year.

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ac3may · 8 months

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“ the wag diaries ”

The Origin Story

~ Sam Kerr ~

~~~~~~~~~~

• just graduated, you were a pretty average uni student

• except not entirely

• you were a couple of years older than most of your class

• America, Fiji, Asia you had become a full granola-girl, travel fiend for a couple of years

• hiking and surfing through the days, partying with your hostel friends through the night

• you were the textbook “trying to discover myself” gap-year kid

• yes, you even came home with a pair of those classic baggy trousers plastered with elephants

•although things went a little better for you considering the internet fame your YouTube doc got you (but we’ll get back to that)

• with two younger siblings (twins) you were blunt, and impatient

• but ultimately cared far more about others than you did yourself

• they were your best friends

• elys was renowned for his practical jokes and getting in trouble that only you could get him out of

• enya was the perfect, youngest child, spoilt in just the right way

• always encouraging you to let her practice her makeup skills or plant pretty flowers in the garden

• especially when your mum died, they were the only ones able to get you out of bed

• or failing that at least encourage a smile to your face

• specially considering the lacklustre relationship you had with your dad… who wasn’t really your dad

• your bio-father split before you were born so at 8 you were introduced to your new stepdad

• he was your sibling's father though so you always felt out of the loop, especially once your mum was gone

• growing up in a football family you were their biggest fan when they progressed from grassroots to academy and academy to first team

• attending every game clad in blue with a painted face, number 1 soccer mom to the max

• you would do anything for them

• the biggest people pleaser

• even if it meant catching a flight to a homophobic country to watch your brother's world cup debut

• just a wounded soul who’s afraid to disappoint

• absolutely underestimate your worth

• just trying to blend into the background

• despite being a secret slut for attention and craving someone to care for you for once

• you’d portray the perfect child to your family so they assume you’re a rebel kid really

• but you felt pretty average growing up

• you were adored in your hometown, always helping the elderly with their grocery shopping and the kids with their homework

• a babysitter and a tutor

• a football coach too

• you played as a kid, much like your siblings

• but the teenage depression when your mum died meant you lost all character and quit all hobbies

• at least for a couple of years

• alonely kid in high school, didn’t drink before you were of age, never went to a school party, or hung out smoking in a field

• always followed the rules at school, middle-of-the-road type of student, not memorable for being too good or too bad

• you were a classic 90’s kid except you refused to let the era go

• as a kid, your mum’s camcorder was on you always

• you loved filming everything and always forced your siblings into being the stars

• which was especially easy when it was their football skills you were showing off

• when you got older you filmed your travels, mainly to send back home but actually gained some traction online

• and then during covid when you and the twins resorted to your roots

• it turns out a YouTube series about two of Chelsea and England’s up-and-coming stars actually does pretty well

• despite being a film student graduate you had no intentions of following your peers to Hollywood or the BBC

• it was your sister who secured you a job with Chelsea

• a big surprise at Christmas when Elys unveiled a new camera and Enya followed up with a contract to start in the summer

• somehow you had never met any of the other Chelsea players, always rushing off to travel home after watching the game in the stands

~~~~~~~~~~

Sam’s definitely my most worked on wag diaries so far, already got 2 more blurbs lined up about her😂😅

#ace writes stuff #wag diaries #sam kerr x reader #woso x reader #sam kerr blurb #matildas #chelsea fcw #chelsea women

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writer-in-theory · 2 months

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Echoes of You

Summary: Five years after leaving Hawkins, Eddie Munson comes home to take care of his Uncle Wayne. He never imagined having to face the ghosts of what he'd left behind. Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Background Robin Buckley/Chrissy Cunningham Rating: T Tags: Right person wrong time, angst w/ happy ending, breakups, future fic, post-canon

Hi everyone! This is my fic for the @strangerthingsreversebigbang based off of the wonderful art by @yellowsweater-bluevest ! Please go check out their amazing work here. It was so much fun to work with them, and the story that he told with his art was just so compelling. Also huge thank you to @serenity-lattes for being my beta reader and cheering me on through the entire process!

There's 3 chapters and an epilogue, and I'll be updating the fic every few hours for the rest of the day!

Read Here

Hawkins smells like burnt chocolate chip cookies.

The smell overwhelms Eddie Munson the moment he enters the town limits, almost making him pull to the side of the road from the intensity. Instead, he gripped the wheel of his car even tighter and searched his memories for any proof that Hawkins had ever been this odorous.

Was it some strange side effect from its now-closed connection to the Upside Down? It certainly wasn’t a leak from the other world, as 3 months spent surviving its dangers left Eddie far too familiar with its grave-like scent. Perhaps if El was visiting town while he was there (which, according to Wayne was more common than not), he could ask if the magic of the world could have that effect on their hometown.

Even still, half of a decade hadn’t made a drastic effect on the town. In fact, if Eddie didn’t know better, he might’ve assumed that Hawkins, Indiana had been held stuck in time while the rest of the world moved on around it, for everything seemed just as it had been on his last drive out.

The movie theater still looked just as it had when he and Hellfire used to get high in the alley beside it after school, and he was sure Old Mr. Williamson would never move the corny—if, albeit, charming in the way only old people could get away with—deer statues in his front lawn painted the colors for Hawkins High.

It was like the entire town had been left on pause when he left, waiting for their prodigal son to return.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #strbb

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chikkou · 2 months

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ok i was waiting until my laptop got here to finally tell all the bullshit thats happened in the last like. 5 months lol. cause its a lot to type

im gonna put it all under the cut so no one has to read if they dont want. its a LONG fucking story.

tl;dr:

ok so for basic background, for the last two years or so, i was living with a roommate in connecticut. the roommate was my (now former) best friend since middle school. in july of this year his behavior totally shifted, and he started picking fights with me out of nowhere, told our high school friends a bunch of straight up lies abt me to make me look like a horrible roommate & person, and just generally became a two-faced dickhead. in the end, it turned out to all be excuses to justify his decision to move out (unofficially, name was still on the lease) so that he could live with his boyfriends and not pay any bills. at the time i was really devastated by this bc i felt totally betrayed by this person i had been close to since i was 12/13, but frankly after everything else that happened i barely fucking think about it now LMAO. this is set dressing more than anything else

so anyway, i had been living alone since about august, that was the last time i saw him in person. i wasnt handling the situation well because i had spoken to my high school friend and found out the extent to which hed tried to paint me as a slovenly, horrible roommate, to the point of telling actual lies about really dumb stuff (which didnt work btw - my friends, god bless them, were more concerned about my mental health than anything and thought i was going down a depression spiral, which my former friend told them he was helping me through. they believed me right away once we finally did talk). all that is to say, i was going kind of crazy lol, and i decided to go back home in october just for a short while, to recharge my batteries and all.

i was gone for a couple of weeks, not very long. i felt MUCH better after being with my family & friends in person, as i felt pretty isolated from everyone (my hometown is in new york, i was only 2 hours away by train but scheduling times to visit was sort of a hassle, so i only did it once every couple months). my grandfather and mom dropped me off at my apartment in early november, we were very lighthearted and discussing my next steps, since my shithead friend had been behind on rent more than 5 times (i always paid my half on time) and i was facing eviction because of it. we get to my apartment, i go to open the door, and it wont open. not that its locked, it just straight up WONT open. my grandpa tried to ram the door with his shoulder, and nothing. hes a strong ass dude, and this door wouldnt budge for anything.

my mom managed to get the kitchen window open and climb in that way, and it took both her and my grandpa pulling/pushing at the same time to force the door open. i wont even dress this up: there was mold. fucking. everywhere. on the floor, on the walls, all over everything i owned. i have pictures (had to take them for insurance) and im not even going to show them because they are beyond fucking disgusting. everything i owned was soaked in water and mold, and i do literally mean EVERYTHING. it was very warm in there too, like the temperature of a swamp. i was in a haze after that. i just remember sobbing, like genuinely heartbroken sobbing, as i wandered around looking at everything that was ruined. my mom & grandpa had to go and get maintenance because i was just utterly useless, and they were equally horrified & said they'd never seen anything like it.

i managed to save some items that were irreplaceable (journals, notebooks, etc) and whatever clothes werent utterly soaked in mold. all of my cookware, my books, my laptop & desktop (i cried the hardest when i saw the desktop) - it was all ruined. we found out later that the water boiler in my apartment had a catastrophic failure while i was gone, which caused it to constantly send water back through the pipes, empty, and refill itself. my bedroom was directly above the boiler downstairs, so it got the most significant amount of damage. all told, i lost like 95% of the things i owned. it is possible that i could have saved more, but the amount of mold in that apartment made it a genuine safety hazard for me to even be in there, so i had very limited time to grab what i could. the cruelest irony of all that? my shithead ex-friend's room, which was on the other side of the hallway, was pretty much untouched. he lost absolutely nothing lol.

so immediately, i had to leave the state. i moved back to ny with my family. my mother - who had a stroke last year following a diagnosis of an exceedingly rare neurological disorder, AND had two separate brain surgeries to improve her quality of life - was in the process of getting evicted. the landlord didnt give a fuck about any of my moms situation, not her being disabled, not her being widowed, not her having 3 kids under the age of 18 to care for - he just wanted her out so he could increase the cost of rent on our house. at the same time as all this was going on, i got saddled with a $600 electric bill (likely caused by the water heater's malfunction), which neither insurance nor the apartment would pay, so it came out of my pocket. in addition, i found out in december that i was also getting laid off.

we had nowhere to go and couldnt afford to live anywhere in the tri-state area. we had no choice but to move somewhere much cheaper, and since my mom already had a friend living in a mid-atlantic state, we chose to move there. the eviction went through in january and we had less than 2 weeks to pack all our shit, find a place to live, and get the fuck out. needless to say, we were not successful lol.

we stayed in my grandparents 1 bedroom apartment for about a week, then all of us drove down together to stay with my moms friend in her 3 bedroom apartment (she has 5 kids, 3 of whom live in the apartment). my moms apartment, which was supposed to have been ready by january 31st, still had people actively living there. the property manager kept promising us it would be next week for the entire month of february, to the point that my mom got fed up and chose to rent a small house instead. the reality of being essentially homeless for that time was beyond horrifying, and having anywhere between 8-10 people in that house (my cousin also moved with us, but he stayed in a hotel for the first week) was more taxing than i can express.

but things have gotten a lot better since then. i also found a cute little house to rent just up the road from my moms, and its very cheap for its size. i still havent found a job yet, but thanks to what was essentially the liquidation of everything i owned, ill be ok for a couple months more. im slowly but surely repurchasing all the things i lost and trying to acclimate to the new environment. things are still not totally stable right now, but they are slowing down, and at this point thats all i can really ask for lol.

so yeah. if u were wondering why i suddenly stopped posting after literal years of posting every day, thats why LMAO

#dark lord saltine #ik this is a massive overshare but fuck it #lifes been fucking hard lol #i have legit been saying ''everything happens so much'' since this all kicked off lmao #its sort of the family motto at this point

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bupia · 11 months

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Little lamb - Terzo x Fem!Reader

Summary: After securing a new job in a city far from your hometown, you found yourself in need of a temporary living arrangement. With limited time to search for a suitable place to rent, you made the decision to stay in a hotel for the first week. At the night you arrive at this new city, you encounter this mysterious man.

Words: 6.034

Warnings: SMUT +18!

Inspired by Jigolo Har Megiddo by Ghost

Arriving in an unfamiliar bustling city late at night, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the sheer number of people surrounding you. Although you didn't come from a small city, you never had the opportunity to be on your own surrounded by a lot of people.

The only time you would get exposed to large crowds was when your family would make you attend Sunday mass, a weekly tradition that you had never particularly enjoyed. For your family and close-knit group of friends, you were an innocent Lamb of God, embodying purity and conformity, and perhaps you were, but deep down, you longed for a chance to break free from those expectations and explore your own path.

At least that's what you expected, you really wanted to transform from an innocent Lamb of God to a completely new person, you were ready to navigate the complexities of life, of your own life. But first, you needed to be less scared. Maybe that was the chance you needed to do restart, as the sensation of anonymity and the multitude of unfamiliar faces made you feel both excited and uneasy.

Stepping into the lobby, you were greeted by soft lighting and a soothing color palette that creates an atmosphere of relaxation. You checked into a cozy hotel located in the heart of downtown because you haven't had time to search for a suitable place to rent, so you made the decision to stay in a hotel for the first week.

As you walk down the lobby to make your check-in with a staff from the hotel you couldn't stop looking around, you felt intoxicated by this new atmosphere. Feeling lost on your surround, letting your senses get shut off, you suddenly collides with a man, threatening to send you tumbling to the floor, however, in the nick of time, the mysterious man extends his arm and grabs holding one of yours, preventing you to fall. Your heart races as you feel his firm grip and you automatically got mute by looking at him.

"Merda!" The mysterious man exclaimed in a foreign language. "Sii attenta! Guarda dove vai, bella!" He pulls you closer, causing your bodies to inadvertently collide.

You couldn't understand a thing that mysterious man was saying, but he was exuding an air of charm, yet carrying an undeniable sense of peculiarity with his dark hair pushed back, his heterocrhomatic eyes and face painting in black and white, just like a skull.

"I- I'm sorry." Your voice barely audible. "I got distracted, sir." Your gaze is drawn to his enigmatic features, his eyes, twinkling with mischief, meet yours with an intensity that both intrigues you.

"Sir?" He repeats it in a devilish tone. His smile is lopsided, hinting at a mischievous nature that dances across his lips.

Your eyes remained locked, time seems to stand still, the bustling lobby fading into the background. He looked older than you, and that only added an intriguing layer to the already enigmatic encounter. You detect a hint of a knowing smile, as if he recognizes the curiosity and intrigue that his age difference sparks within you. It's as if he understands that his mature demeanor holds a certain allure, captivating the imagination of someone younger like yourself.

"I'm sorry. I'll be more careful... Sir?" You heard him growling of pleasure. He releases his grip and steps back, breaking the magnetic connection, a mix of disappointment and anticipation washes over you.

"Nessun problema, bella ragazza." His eyes seem to penetrate deep into my nervous soul, intensifying the electric current that still lingers between you.

"Excuse me, sir. I have to go." Breaking away from his gaze and quickly turning to meet with one of the hotel staff. The sense of his gaze following me remains, an invisible thread connecting us in that moment.

You walked until you arrived at the reception desk. As you talk with the hotel staff, you can't help but steal glances in his direction. He stands there, a mysterious figure amidst the bustling lobby, still watching you. The knowledge that his eyes are fixed on you, fills you with a mix of trepidation and exhilaration. It's as if he sees beyond the surface, igniting a desire to delve deeper into the unknown. In that moment, you realize that this chance encounter has awakened something inside of you, a thirst for adventure and a willingness to embrace the unexpected.

"Excuse, Miss. Your key. Room number 66" The staff calls your attention breaking the gaze with the mysterious strange.

"Yes! Thank you!" You gave the staff a sincere smile gently getting the key from his hand.

You leave the reception behind making your way to the elevator, so you could finally settle in your room and finally take a rest. The soft sound of a bell announces the arrival of the elevator, the doors sliding open to reveal a small, enclosed space. You step into the elevator to reach your designated floor, you press the button of the 6th floor. You steal a glance at the reflection in the mirrored walls, adjusting your disheveled hair.

Just as the doors begin to slide shut, a hand appears, halting their motion. The doors obediently retract, revealing the enigmatic man from the lobby, his presence both startling and mesmerizing. Frozen in place, you find myself unable to tear your gaze away from him.

"Mi scusi principessa, buonanotte." You see him pressing a button and the doors close once again. The atmosphere becomes charged with anticipation, as if time itself has paused to witness the unfolding encounter.

Words fail you in his presence, your eyes meet in the mirrored reflection. His gaze seems to penetrate your very being.

"So, first time around the town?" He asks breaking the silence. You nodded turning your gaze to another direction. "Going to the 6th floor, sì?"

"Yes." You reply. "Just moved here, I got a new job and I will stay for a time in this hotel, sir." He growls, his head tilting back slightly, his eyes closing as he bites his bottom lip. He shifts his position, his body turning, his gaze fixed upon your reflection in the mirrored walls.

"The golden crucifix on your neck, I couldn't avoid to notice it." You follow his gaze, noticing his attention drawn to the delicate golden crucifix resting against your exposed chest due to the cleavage of your dress. "Do you consider yourself a Lamb of God?"

His words echoed in your head, causing your eyebrows to furrow together in a perplexed expression. In a swift motion, you turned your body to face him, unable to comprehend how he could refer to you as a "Lamb of God", a label you had long resisted.

"I am more than the image you perceive." The words escaped your lips in a sharp tone, his lips curled into a smirk, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes.

He casually rested a hand in the mirrored walls, his posture exuding confidence and intrigue. The smirk remained plastered on his face, his eyes locked with yours, as if he was silently challenging you to delve deeper into the enigma that surrounded him.

"Sei sicura di quella? Sembri un agnello debole di Dio, piccola." He whispered, his words laced with a mix of amusement and provocation.

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand what you're saying, sir." He step closer to you almost pressing his body against your back, resting the bottom of his arm on the mirrored wall, leaning his body towards you with his face close to your ear.

"I said: Are you sure about that? You look like a Lamb of God, little one." He whispered in your ear, you felt his other hand reaching for your hips, holding you there. You closed your eyes, his charm, voice, proximity, scent, and touch intoxicating you.

"I may appear as an innocent lamb, but strength lies within even the meekest of creatures." You felt his tight grip on your hips, letting out a soft moan, you tilted your head back resting it on his chest. His hand left your hips, tracing a path from your belly to your your neck holding it slightly, as his fingertips reached for your lips, you slightly parted them.

"Are you sure about that, little lamb?" His fingers now moving to your lips, parting them a little more. You moved your tongue unconsciously, softly licking his fingertips. He left a malicious laugh escape his lips as his fingers went all the way down back to your hips slowly pulling up your dress. "May I...?" He patiently waited for your response, you took a deep breath nodding.

"I am not..." you murmured, "...a little...", you felt his fingertips reaching for the inside of your thighs, your legs were trembling in anticipation, the gentle touch of his hand between your legs sent shivers down your spine, "...lamb."

"Ma certo che no, mi dispiace..." His hand getting closer to the fabric of your panties, made you feel a mix of nervous and anticipation. Your body tensed slightly, your breath caught in your throat, and your heart beating fast in your chest.

In that suspended moment, the air between you two grew thick with unspoken tension. You didn't want to keep going with this silent battle of wills as your eyes were still locked onto his, you decided to turn your back to him, no longer willing to indulge his provocative game.

Before you could say something, the elevator abruptly jolts to a stop, he breaks the physical connection that had begun to take hold of you and reality came crashing back. Your eyes meet his, a mixture of shyness and nervousness dancing within your depths.

The doors slide open. "I- It's my floor," you stammers softly. You reluctantly stepped out, but before the doors shut, the man reached for your wrist stopping you.

"Can I ask for the number of your room, mia cara?" You looked at him over your shoulder.

"Y- Yes, sir. Is 66" He let your wrist go.

"I'll meet you in some minutes then, little lamb." You catch a glimpse of his face transforming into a devilish smile. It starts at the corners of his lips, a mischievous curl that slowly spreads across his features like a flickering flame. His eyes, filled with a mixture of lust and allure, twinkle with a hint of mischief. The corners of his mouth turn upward, forming a captivating smirk that hints at a world of secrets and untamed desires. It's a smile that holds both danger and temptation.

Not able to give him a proper answer, you nodded, you couldn't stop staring at him. As the door of the elevator shuts, you shake your head breaking the spell.

Walking down the hallway, your steps echoed softly against the carpeted floor. As you approached your room, you stop in front of the door labeled 66, the numbers gleaming in a polished metallic finish. You insert the key into the lock and hears a satisfying click, signaling the entry. The door swings open, revealing a cozy space illuminated by a warm glow. The room welcomes you with a soft lighting, plush furnishings, and a sense of tranquility.

Closing the door behind you, you took a moment to soak in the ambiance. The comfortable bed, neatly arranged furniture, and the soft glow of the bedside lamp offered a sense of familiarity amidst the unfamiliar surroundings.

Leaving your shoes close to the door, you move towards the window, drawing back the curtains to reveal a breathtaking view of the city below. It was a breathtaking landscape. As you stand in the center of the room, your mind drifts back to the encounter in the elevator.

The memory of his presence, his touch, and the devilish smile he bestowed upon you linger in your thoughts, leaving you yearning for more.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, the events that unfolded in the elevator replay in your mind, leaving you questioning the choices you had made.

What had just happened? Was it a leap towards new experiences or had you crossed a line you wasn't ready for? Is this what you truly wanted? Can you handle the consequences of your impulsive actions? Are you prepared for what awaits?

But you couldn't say "no" to him, the scent of his cologne enveloped your senses, you felt poisoned by it. There's no turning back now. You had agreed to let him come to your room.

The heat between your legs only grew as the memory of his fingers running through your body invaded your mind. You lied on the bed, you could still feel his fingers, so close to where you needed him. You wanted more, you needed more of him.

As the minutes tick by, you knew that he will be arriving soon. The anxiety weighs heavily on you, causing your palms to grow clammy and your heart to quicken its pace. The air in the room feels charged with a blend of excitement and nervous energy.

A softly knock on your door made you rise from the bed and straightens your posture. With a mixture of nervousness and anticipation you approaches the door. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you opens it to find him standing there, his enigmatic presence filling the doorway.

"Hello, sir... I wasn't sure if you would actually come." Your voice comes out in a hushed tone.

"Did you doubt me, little lamb? I told you I would find my way to your doorstep." He smirks, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief.

"I... I didn't expect this," you stammer, your voice betraying a hint of nervousness. You back slightly, allowing him to enter the room.

"Expectations can be limiting, mia cara. Sometimes it's better to let go and embrace the unknown." He shuts the door behind him, his presence overwhelming yet captivating.

"But what are we doing here? What does this mean?" your gaze shifts nervously, uncertainty lingering in your eyes.

He chuckles softly, his voice low and alluring. "Does everything need a meaning? Can't we simply surrender to the moment, allowing ourselves to explore the depths of desire?"

You bite your lip, the allure of his words tempting you to relinquish your inhibitions. "I... I don't know if I'm ready for this. It's all so new to me."

His expression softens, and he reaches out to gently brush a stray strand of hair from your face. "Fear and excitement often go hand in hand, mia cara. Sometimes the most beautiful moments are found on the other side of our comfort zones."

"And what if it all goes wrong?" your eyes search his face, searching for reassurance.

He lifts your chin with a finger, his gaze locking onto yours with intensity. "What could possibly go wrong, little lamb?" His body gets closer to yours. "Sometimes we have to take risks, even if they scare us. Life is too short to be bound by fear and what-ifs."

"Ok..." you murmur. You takes a deep breath, feeling a surge of determination welling up within you.

A knowing smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he leans closer, your faces inches apart. "That's the spirit, little lamb. Let's create a memory worth cherishing."

As your eyes lock in a powerful gaze, an electric current of anticipation fills the air. The room falls into a hushed silence, punctuated only by the sound of your breaths mingling. Without a word, you surrender to the magnetic pull drawing you two closer, yours lips yearning to meet.

Your mouths collide in a desperate and profound kiss. It starts softly, a gentle exploration of each other's lips, but quickly builds in intensity. The embrace deepens, your bodies pressed against one another, as your tongues intertwine in a dance of desire.

Lost in the heat of the moment, your inhibitions fade away. Every brush of your lips and every flicker of your tongues ignites a fire within, leaving you both breathless and consumed by the raw intensity, loosing yourselves in the taste and touch of one another.

You both are heavy breathing and moaning in each other's mouth. His hands are gripping your hips firmly, bumping your back against the wall and pressing his body onto yours, exploring every inch of it with his hands. You reach for his neck, desperately bringing him closer to you.

As your lips finally part, he left a soft lick on your lips as if he needed one last taste of you.

"That was just a taste, little lamb," he murmurs, his voice dripping with playful allure. "But there's so much more to explore." His hands now resting on your thighs, started to go up, lifting your dress delicately, reaching for the waistband of your panties, intertwining his fingers on it. A shiver runs down your spine. You meet his gaze, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"Is that a promise?" you whispers, your voice laced with a newfound boldness.

"Oh, consider it a guarantee. We've only just scratched the surface, and I intend to delve deeper." His own smile widens, a devilish glint in his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, his lips gently brushing against the delicate skin of your neck. You feel a shiver of pleasure course through your body, your senses heightened by the trail of kisses, in a mixture of tenderness and hunger.

You tilt your head to grant him better access, relishing in the exquisite sensation of his lips on your sensitive skin. Soft moans escape your lips as he explores the contours of your neck, your fingers instinctively find their way into his hair, tangling in the soft strands as you pull him closer, seeking an even deeper connection. He breaks away from your neck, his eyes locked with yours, filled with an unmistakable hunger.

"You know... little lamb, I'm a very religious man," he whispered. His hands pulling down the waistbands of your panties. "And as a religious man... I have to get on my knees sometimes."

He sinks to his knees before you, his gaze never leaving your face. You felt your panties reaching your ankles, your eyes locked onto his as he grabbed one of your legs resting it on his shoulder, in a instinctively move, your hand reaches for his head, holding onto his hair searching for balance.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm a Papa, mia cara." He reaches out, his hands gently grasping yours, and brings them to his lips, pressing a reverent kiss upon your knuckles.

"A Pa- Papa!?" your voice stammers, you look at him, your eyes widen in shock and disbelief. "But... how is that possible? You were in the hotel lobby, you... you seemed so different. And the elevator..."

"Yes. I'm a Papa," he says, his voice carrying a weight of significance. "I am not just an ordinary man."

You remain speechless, your mind swirling with a mixture of awe, confusion, and curiosity. The enormity of the revelation begins to sink in, as you contemplate the implications of being entangled with someone of such esteemed position and responsibility.

"Don't worry, little lamb. I'm not the one you're used to hear about, I'm a totally different one."

"What do you mean?" you finally manage to ask, your voice tinged with vulnerability.

"That mia cara... You're about to discover." He nuzzled his face deep between your legs, his face got close to your core, you could feel his warm breath against it. You pull his hair, making him let out a pleasant moan.

At the moment he brushed his lips in your core, you let out a loud moan. One of his hands reaches for your leg on his shoulder grabbing it tight, while the another one goes straight to your slick folds.

"Oh... Little lamb..." he bite his lips. "You're so wet..." He says while he moves his fingers from your clit to your entrance, pressing on it, teasing, as if he would push in. But instead of it, he removes his hand between your legs, and lick his fingers, closing his eyes with a low grunt coming out of his mouth.

In a desperate move, his mouth is close to your throbbing core again, his eyes locked with yours, both of his hands holding on your thighs keeping you firm standing in front of him while his tongue reaches for your clit, causing you to whine. Moving your hand to the back of his head pushing him even closer to your core, you can't help but moan, calling for him by his position of authority.

"P- Papa...! Papa...! Papa..."

His hand left your thigh and went straight to your entrance, teasing it with his fingertips. His mouth and tongue continued to work around your clit, alternating between licking and sucking it. You felt like you were losing your mind with the warm and wet sensation of his mouth and tongue. It sent shivers down your spine, made your legs tremble, and caused your eyes to roll back multiple times. You no longer had control of your body; you were bewitched by him.

He stood up from his knees, his hand still teasing your entrance. He cupped your chin with his free hand, making you look at him. You could see his face was all messy around his mouth. The tones that were once separated were now forming a pale shade of grey. Sliding his tongue out, he licked around his mouth and bit his bottom lip. Your eyes locked in a heated gaze, the air thick with anticipation and desire. In a moment of overwhelming longing and with an impulsive act, you held the back of his neck and went in for a kiss. Your lips collided in a desperate, sloppy embrace. Your mouths moved with a raw intensity, your tongues intertwining in a dance of urgency and longing. Slowly he pushed his fingers inside of you making you to whine on his lips and craving your nails on his neck. You moved your hips as you felt him moving his fingers inside of you, slowly, in and out. Your bodies pressing together in a fervent embrace, the kiss keeping your lips molded together, exploring, tasting, and conveying a deep hunger. Your hand leaving his neck, went straight to his hand between your legs pressing his fingers deep inside of you as if you were begging for him to go faster.

Your lips parted, your ragged breaths mingled in the space between you both. "Ple...Please... Fa..." trying to say something, you looked at his eyes with a begging looking on them, still pressing his hand between your legs.

"Oh? What? Please what?"

"Please... Faster..." A devilish smile crept across his lips, spreading slowly until it consumed his face.

His fingers started to move faster in and out inside of you, curling his finger to hit that spot, making you reaching for his shoulder holding it tight. His eyes gleamed with an inner fire. The corners of his mouth curled upwards, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth, adding to the enigmatic allure that surrounded him.

"You want it like that, little lamb? Yes? You want me to go like that?" his voice held a wicked charm, drawing you deeper into his web of temptation.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes!"

"Will you come, little lamb? Will you come for Papa?" his words caressed your senses, igniting a fire within you as he continued to weave his verbal enchantment. "If Papa keep going like this, the little lamb will cum on Papa's fingers?" each syllable was carefully chosen, designed to arouse and tease, leaving you hanging on his every word.

"Yes, Papa! I will!" As you reply to his question he removed his fingers inside of you.

"I don't think so, ragazza." he purred, his voice velvety and rich with innuendo. "Tell me, mia cara, how does it feel to be under the spell of my irresistible allure?" His hand reached the bulge on his pant, caressing it.

"Go... Good, sir." You closed your legs, pressing them together as you saw the large protuberance under his hand.

"Bene." He nodded as his hand unbuttoned his pants, uncovering his hardness. "Tell me, mia cara, don't you think Papa also deserve to be worshiped?" His words painted vivid pictures in your mind, igniting your imagination and fueling your desire as he stroked his length slowly.

"Yes." You replied already getting on his knees, but he stopped you holding your arm making you to get up.

"Come with me, cara." He said as his hand slid from your arm to your hand, grabbing it taking you with him to an armchair close to the window.

He sits on it looking at you standing still in front of him. "Take it off." He points to your dress tilting his hand.

You slowly start to pull up your dress above your head as he grabbed his erection pumping it looking at you, following your move with his eyes as you removed your dress throwing it away on the floor.

"Brava ragazza. You look so sinful for a little lamb of God," his eyes traveled every inch of your body making you feel exposed. You tried to cover your body with your hands making him give you a look of disapproval. "Fermati con questa stronzata! On your knees!"

You obeyed him by getting on your knees in front of him and resting your hands on his thighs. As you watched him still pumping his erection, you gave him an innocent yet malicious look and bit your bottom lip while looking at his hardness. You noticed a glistening liquid leaking from the tip and got your face close to it, pressing your lips on the tip and letting them get glossy from the liquid. He removed his hand, and you grabbed it with one of yours. He gently tangled his fingers in your hair, bringing your head a little closer to his erection. You licked your glossy lips from the glistening liquid and let out a soft moan.

"Cazzo!" His fingers firmly grabbed your hair as he closed his eyes twisting his head back.

As you licked the tip, he let out low pleasure noises. The grip on your hair tightened as he started to pull it, feeling you circle your tongue around it before you licked from the base to the tip and gave a hard suck. You slowly took him into your mouth, using your tongue around the length. You started to take him even deeper into your mouth, making him moan even louder.

"Merda! Who would think the little lamb of God could suck a cock like that?"

You begin to move your head up and down, taking all of him into your mouth. You gag a little as you reach the base, but you continue to listen to him moaning and cursing in an unknown language. You feel yourself getting wet, so you close your legs and press them together, letting out a moan around his hardness. You pull off him to catch your breath, noticing how dizzy he looks as he stares at you as if he's under your spell. As you delicately stroke his hardness with your hand, he starts to move his hips, thrusting against your hand. You take him back into your mouth, letting him thrust deep inside as the rhythm of his thrusts increases and he reaches the back of your throat.

"Stop! Merda! Come with me." He cupped your cheek, stopping you, pulling him out of your mouth. He quickly got up and took you by the hand, effortlessly lifted you off your feet and playfully tossed you onto the bed making you gasp, while your heart raced with anticipation. He began to undress, lowering his pants and kicking them away from him. He also unbuttoned his shirt and discarded it.

Your eyes locked with his, a mixture of vulnerability and eagerness reflected in your gaze. A mischievous grin played on his lips as he slowly approached. With a predatory grace, he climbed onto the bed. Each knee pressing into the soft mattress, he positioned himself above you. With a devilish smile playing on his lips, he leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours.

"Are you ready..." he asked in a whisper running his lips on yours. "Are you ready to let Papa tempt you to sin ?" he bit your lower lip gently and pulled it towards him, your lips parted away, sighing in pleasure by his words.

"You... you're such a tease." You said breathing heavily. His presence was intoxicating.

"Oh, mia cara, I do enjoy pushing your limits, seeing you unravel under my touch." His eyes traced the contours of your face, a flicker of anticipation danced in his gaze, a silent invitation for you to surrender to the intoxicating spell.

"You... drive me crazy... in the most exhilarating way."

Sliding his hand between your legs, his eyes pierced on yours, you feel him running his fingers through your dripping folds. You help yourself but whimper by his touch.

"It's all part of the game, dolce. The dance of pleasure and anticipation." His fingers getting close to your entrance applying a slight pressure into it.

"Oh... Fuck, Papa... Please" You moaned gasping for breath, grabbing in a firm fist the sheets on the bed.

"Oh, cara, I loved to hear you begging. The way your voice trembles with desire, it's music to my ears." Leaning in, his voice, a seductive whisper made you shiver, he traced a path of kisses along your neck.

"Please... don't hold back anymore... Please sir, fuck me."

Trailing his fingers down your body, teasingly slow, he gracefully shifted his position, lowering himself to sit on his ankle before you. He maintained an intense gaze, his eyes locked with yours as he started to slowly spread your legs, holding your thighs and pulling you towards him.

"Fuck? Is that what you want, mia cara? Little lamb wants to be fucked?" Stroking his hardness slackly close to your core, he rubs the tip of it on your clit, making you to softly arch your back whimpering.

"Yes, please! Fuck me, please. I can't wait anymore" With a firm yet gentle grip, he reached out and took hold of your arm, guiding you to his lap.

You could feel the warmth of his body enveloping you, the sensation of his arms encircling your waist. "Then fuck yourself." He grinned wickedly.

His words sent an electric wave of pleasure down your body igniting a fire inside of you. You reached for his member, adjusting it, lowered your body slowly sinking it inside of you. Feeling it stretching your walls, you let out a load moan as a little pain mixed with pleasure consumed you by the feeling of his member filling you deep inside.

Before starting your moves, you took a deep breath, moving your hips up and down to get used to his size. "Fuck! So big!"As you began to bounce your hips faster, a loud moan escaped your mouth, making him grunt.

He bit his lower lip, a devilish smile played upon his lips as he felt your movements. "Oh, what a dirty mouth, ragazza..." a low chuckle escapes his lips.

Your movements became faster on top of him, and you couldn't take your eyes off of him. Your moans mixed with his, creating a competition to see who could moan louder. The pleasure between your legs intensified as he stretched your walls, firmly hugging your waist and thrusting inside of you. He slammed his hips, causing your movements to become erratic as you let him take control of the rhythm.

"Oh... merda, you're to tight, mia cara." His words echoed in your mind, making you clench around him. You reached for his shoulders, resting your arms on them. "So tight and wet for me..."

"Fuu...ck... Pa... Papa... Feels so goo... good." You left his shoulders trailing with your fingertips a lightly path along his chest.

"Yeah? Does Papa feels good inside of your tight pussy?" You were only able to nod. "I want words, tell me how good my cock feels inside of you, say it." He imposed it with a husky voice.

"Is... So good... I'm... so cl-" Squeezing your eyes shut, you rested your head on his shoulder moaning in a low tone close to his ear.

He didn't let you finish and lifted you from his lap, carefully maneuvering you onto the bed." Don't you dare to come yet. I'm not done yet." He stood at the edge of the bed, his eyes tracing every curve and contour of your body, a hunger burning in his gaze. "Turn, put your hands and your knees on the bed."

You turned your back towards him, doing what he asked you to do. You felt his hands grabbing your hips pulling you close to him, without a warning he pushes his length inside of you starting to thrust inside of you. The sound of his hips colliding against yours echoed around the room.

"Bellissima cara, Hah... Sei davvera. You feel so good around my cock. You take me so well." He kept thrusting as your walls started to clench around him. "Merda, don't do it, ragazza, don't make yourself even tighter around my cock."

"Papa... Don't stop... Don't stop until you make me cum." You said smirking mischievously.

"Oh, little lamb, you're such a ragazza birichina, aren't you?"He used one of his hands to lower your back while continuing to thrust inside of you. "I'll make you cum for me, naughty little lamb of mine." You could feel him going deeper inside you, hitting the perfect spot. The rhythm only grew more intense as he felt your insides twitching around his length. His hand left your back and went to the heat between your legs, reaching for your clit. His fingers moved faster, massaging it.

"I'm not a-!" before you could finish the sentence, your walls clenched around him once again bringing a intense orgasm and a loud moan. You couldn't stop twitching around his member as your orgasm continued to run the full length of him. He didn't stop with his moves, he leaned his body on top of yours, kissing your shoulder. His hand reached for your hair grabbing a good amount of the locks of your hair pulling your head back, exposing your neck leaving a hard suck on it.

"Yes, cara, you came so good on my cock!" He aligned his body behind you leaving your clit, holding your waist strongly with both of his hands. The tightness of your walls was too much for him to handle. "You're so good, your pussy feels so good, cazzo, mia cara! I'm going to-" He pulls his member out, stroking it faster before finish himself on your lower back, his moans filling the room as you felt a heat hitting your back.

You collapsed onto the bed, his hands supporting himself on the sides of your body. Both of you were breathing heavily, and no words were spoken. He lay beside you, looking at you while you tried to recover your senses. His hand rested on your back, delicately and slowly caressing it. His face got closer to yours, and he left a soft peck on your lips.

"Stay here," you nodded as he got up and went to the bathroom, quickly returning with a towel in his hand. He approached you and cleaned your lower back. You smiled at him, letting out a sigh. After he finished cleaning you, he went back to the bathroom and returned, lying on your side.

"Thank you." You smiled feeling him passing his arm around your waist bringing you close to him.

"I just realized that I didn't tell you my name." His hand rested on your face, cupping your cheek and caressing it.

"Yes, sir. You didn't," you closed your eyes, feeling his touch lying your head on his chest.

"You can call me as Terzo. What about you? What is your name... little lamb?" He said it in a playful tone.

Grammar ⸻

(Mia) Cara - (My) dear Merda! - Shit! Sii attenta! Guarda dove vai, bella! - Pay attention! Look where you are going, pretty! Nessun problema, bella ragazza - No problem, pretty girl Mi scusi principessa, buonanotte - Excuse me princess, goodnight Sì? - right? Sei sicura di quella? Sembri un agnello debole di Dio, piccola. - Are you sure about that ? You look like a weak lamb of God, little girl. Ma certo che no, mi dispiace... - Of course not, I'm sorry... Bellissima cara, Hah... Sei davvera - Beautiful dear, Hah... You're so good. Cazzo! - Fuck! Dolce - Sweet Ragazza birichina - Naughty girl Brava ragazza - Good girl Fermati con questa stronzata - Stop with this bullshit Bene - Good

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celestialspecial · 8 months

Text

Vibrantly Hidden

Synopsis: Lydia has been forced to return home to live with her sisters. The well of magick runs deep in her family, despite her best efforts to avoid that aspect of herself. But strange things are afoot in the town of Crystal Falls and in order to figure out these bizarre happenings she must work alongside her enemy from a rival coven-Billy Russo.

Authors Notes: This story has been my passion project as of late and something that I maybe hope to turn into something real and tangible one day. As a special thanks for all your support I want to share it with you first :) The title is still in the works as I explore other options- input is very welcome on it!

Warnings: 18+, Witchcraft and Magick, Some horror elements, graphic descriptions, smut (use your own discernment)

Chapter One: Click your heels together three times

There were few things I’m certain of in life.

Never conjure when angry or when the moon is waning.

River spirits never forget a bargain spurned.

The Russo Coven couldn’t be trusted.

It was the near end of august, September rode in on the back of a cool breeze and yellow tinged leaves.

Sipping a slightly-too salty margarita on a wine bar patio, the glass sweating despite the soft breeze.

While most people were excited about autumn and all the treats the “-Ber months brought I couldn’t help but feel a pit of sadness at the thought of summer ending.

Ignoring reality had been my personal goal for the season and I’d done it so well. Books by the pool, painting sessions on the beach(with all the retired folks), hikes along trails covered in moss and jagged stones.

Sipping cocktails on patios like this, savoring the complex flavors and picking at charcuterie boards with cheeses whos names I butchered while ordering.

I was living the life. But with each passing day I knew I couldn’t ignore it for much longer.

After budget cuts, my position at the local art museum was no longer “essential”. Having a background in art history left one wanting for jobs in a bad way.

I should be grateful for the job posting my older sister Elizabeth had sent but when I saw it conveniently was at the local college back home I couldn’t conceal the anxiety taking root in my chest.

I’d applied haphazardly, fully anticipating another, “thank you for your interest- we’ve decided to move ahead with other candidates.”

But when I saw the “we’d love to have you come on board!” Intro line I knew my fate had been sealed.

I needed this job.

It wouldn’t be so bad living back at home for a little while until another opportunity came along, right?

My younger sister Emily was ecstatic. It almost broke my heart a little to imagine telling her I didn’t quite feel the same amount of eagerness.

I’d moved away because I wanted to feel free, to see what my life could be outside of the confines of my hometown. Outside of what I was.

I had needed space. Space in the form of multiple hundreds of miles away.

Most people grow up playing on swing sets and eating peanut butter sandwiches. Growing up in a family of witches, is something entirely different.

When you’re young and impressionable the idea of having powers, knowing there’s more to life than what most others know. It can feel feel empowering.

To me it was daunting. Exhausting. It’s not all hocus pocus and fun spellbooks or brewing potions.

I didn’t want to be me. I wanted something else.

Something normal.

The Dawson name was well known and revered in the town of Crystal Falls. We’d been here since the town was christened along with a few other families.

There’d been a Dawson Mayor, Head of the newspaper, a few doctors, even a sheriff.

If only the upstanding community was aware that the Dawson name was a coven. Not just your run of the mill one, but powerful witches, dating back centuries.

The town today had no idea that witches had laid claim to this land so many years ago.

It’s not something one can post on social media. After the debacle in Salem all the smart actual witches branched off. Some migrated to the Midwest, others searched for the west coast.

The Dawson’s had gone upwards along the east coast, becoming almost nomadic in nature until settling into a small village, close to the ocean but gently tucked into a blanket of forest.

A river cut through town giving a grand display of multiple waterfalls that ended at the nearby beach.

If you caught one of the large celestial events of comets or a grandiose full moon the river and falls seemed to glimmer and glow, taking on an ethereal hue.

Hence the name- Crystal Falls.

Our family had helped imbue protective barriers around the town alongside the Russo coven. Another family of warlocks that had also managed to stumble upon this area.

It was beautiful and charged with an uncontained wild nature that must’ve called to our ancestors in some way. And above all else- it was home.

Me and my sisters had been raised by our aunt and grandmother after our parents died when we were young.

It had been labeled an accident. Driving through the mountainous terrain to reach town was dangerous even during the brightest of days.

But there had been signs, too many for our families liking, to chalk it up to merely an accident. There were too many “magickal” elements at play to ignore.

The brand new car losing control, the large tree having conveniently fallen, after the too conspicuous lightning strike and torrential storm appearing on an otherwise clear meteorological prediction.

I tried not to think of it too long, for fear of losing myself in the grief. Too afraid of falling into the whirlpool of those feelings and drowning, never to be seen again.

“Would you like another?” The waitress asked, taking away my now empty margarita glass.

“Yes please, actually do you have anything remaining from the seasonal menu?”

“Sorry, we just finished the last of the summer sangria but we do have our fall menu out! Fig spritzer with sugared thyme and a pumpkin spice bourbon.”

Another nail in the coffin. Summer was over and I needed to face the reality of my impending trip back home. Whether I liked it or not.

Picking some random Chardonnay off the menu in silent rebellion to their fall drinks I feel a tingle in my left pinkie.

I recognize that feeling. It appears when I’m sad. Or stressed. Or angry. Sometimes when I’m happy.

I’ll be watching a Netflix show and laughing so hard on my sofa and then I feel the tingling sensation in my fingertips.

Like dipping my fingers into super icy water then immediately into hot boiling water. I catch it and breathe into the feeling.

Willing it to stop.

Some tries take longer than others. Over the years I’ve managed to muffle that part of me that yearns to escape.

A rabid dog locked in a basement waiting for the caretaker to get sloppy, lazy. Bursting past the seam of the door and bounding freely into the night.

Not today. One day perhaps. I shudder thinking about it. Or maybe it’s just the breeze, goose bumps break out along my arms and chest.

Eventually after some practiced breathing I feel the tiny reverberations cease. Returning from whence they came.

Boy how I am not looking forward to going home.

The drive back home was a scenic four hour trek through mountains and forestry that could make any camper or hiking enthusiast’s mouth water.

I’d lost count over the years how many scenic overlooks dotted the area and if there was a drinking game involving shots every time a quaint picturesque New England type village popped up on google maps one would quickly die of alcohol poisoning.

“What do you want for dinner?” Elizabeth’s text pinged on my phone that was propped on the dash hastily.

“So excited!!!!” Emily responded not two seconds later. The age dynamics were far too apparent.

I couldn’t help but grin, I loved my sisters I really do, but it’s been so long since I’d lived with them.

Elizabeth came into her magic first- understandably so, being the oldest. Grandma was so proud, seeing Lizzy carry on the Dawson legacy.

“Easy Em”

“Sorry! Sorry! Drive safe!”

I rolled my eyes, chuckling a little as I turned onto another mountain path. This added time to my trip but I just …couldn’t bring myself to take the other route. Not yet.

After another hour or so of driving I finally saw the sign for Crystal Falls, keep right for 30 miles.

A crusted slab of wood with paint peeling off of it. Emerald green and white swirls of paint beckoning any passerby to stop.

It didn’t pass my notice that a handful of trees had leaves tinged in orange, a few scattered red bursts.

Traitors.

It would be beautiful. The kiss of death to summer and its green tinged warmth. I’d even miss the bugs.

Turning down the Main Street there was a constant stream of activity. People walking in and out of shops, visitors milling around the welcome center, campers clearly here for the upcoming fall foliage unfurling comically large maps of the cave systems.

There was a gazebo at the town center, a la Gilmore girls Stars Hollow that was always decorated according to season.

I said a silent prayer of thanks seeing the sunflowers still adorning it and not hay bales and pumpkins.

Festive mums sat in fat glazed pots in front of the stores. I rolled my windows down to inhale the smell of home.

Wondering if it’d smell like how I remembered. Fresh flowers, sweet honeysuckle and that tell tale pinch of chill.

Tree branches swayed overhead with the seasonal breeze. Yellowed leaves broke off of a nearby oak and scattered into the street.

I watched as a gaggle of school girls walked over them, crunching them into the pavement without a thought.

Turning off the main causeway and into the more scenic countryside where a few vineyards with their adjoining wineries sat.

Moon Brew Farm with their delicious peach wine. Cats Tail Vineyard that created a bubbly moscato with hints of fresh blackberry.

I could feel my mouth water just imagining it, that full mouth feel. Fizzing bubbles popping on my tongue and chasing it with a panini whose sides runneth over in pale cheese.

My stomach gurgled, begging for food. I had only stopped at a Wendy’s on the way since the McDonald’s drive through had a line longer than I cared to sit in.

The remnants of a devoured chicken sandwich rested on my center console. The paper still flecked with grease and a loose pickle that somehow managed to escape my mouth.

I passed a large estate off to the left. A high arched gate cutting the drive off at the main road. The stone pillar at the end read, “Russo.” Engraved into a black marble plaque.

I drove by, right hand on the wheel, left out the window in an honorary “one finger salute ” at the disgusting excuse for a castle marring our town.

Dirt billowed behind my rickety Subaru as I finally ambled onto a gravel driveway. The popping sound of rocks being shot out from underneath my tires like rapid shrapnel alerted the ladies inside.

“Lydia!” Emily was the first to run out, screen door slamming shut into Elizabeth’s face as she jumped the porch steps completely.

Lizzy scowled, pushing the screen door out of her way like it owed her money.

“Em, what the hell?”

I tossed my car in park just in time to see Emily’s grinning face and fists tapping at my window like a madwoman.

“Can you give me like a second?” I managed a laugh, popping the door open only to be tackled in a rib cage smushing embrace.

“I missed you! So-o-o-o-o much!” Each ‘o’ was accompanied by a sway of our bodies back and forth.

Elizabeth finally reached us, pushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“Bet you missed this.” She joked, gesturing to Emily who had wedged her face into my shoulder.

“Shuff-Upf” came Emily’s muffled response as she refused to let go. Maybe she was afraid I’d disintegrate, that I was some clever illusion instead of actually being here in the flesh.

“Missed you-“ I gave a genuine, albeit weary smile to my older sister, somehow untangling a limb to motion her into the bear hug going on.

“So glad to see you.” She relented, easing into the sister shuffle.

It felt nice. I hadn’t stopped so much to reminisce on these things when I was away. I did miss them. I did miss home. I just didn’t miss what home had meant to me for so long.

Eventually Emily peeled herself off of me and dragged me into the house, not pausing even when I nearly tripped on the porch steps.

“Luggage can wait for later!” She had stated. Dinner was ready and honestly I just wanted to unwind and zone out into a pile of amazing food.

Elizabeth and Emily got the cooking gene from our mother. I got my fathers gene of enjoying said cooking.

Chicken pot pie with a flaky crust, yams coated in golden butter, green beans sautéed with almonds and pepper and a peach cobbler with succulent fruit from the local farmers market.

“I still can’t believe you’re home and not just for a vacation but like, for good.” Emily twisted her fork into the leftover cobbler morsels, licking a crumb from her thumb.

“Not for good, just…for now.”

Elizabeth nodded sagely, catching my hesitation and being kind enough to change the subject.

“How was the drive?”

“Not bad.” I spooned a piece of chicken coated in sauce onto my plate as Elizabeth took another bite of green beans. “I see tons of campers are already here. Don’t they know it’ll be weeks until fall foliage actually appears?”

“The mayor has been trying to push for more summer into fall events to draw in the crowds.”

“Yeah Elizabeth’s boyfriend has really been overhauling the event planning thing.”

“He is NOT my boyfriend.” Her cheeks turned almost as red as her hair. “It’s about time we had a member of the council actually give a shit about our town and its livelihood.”

Emily dramatically sighed, bringing the back of her hand to her forehead and fluttered her eyelashes. “Yes whatever would we do without dear Sebastyan.”

“The crab?” I smirked, reaching my fork towards another yam. Lizzy pulled the plate away giving me that older sister, raised eyebrow look. It spelled out “watch it” clear enough for me to relent.

“Don’t you start with me.”

Dinner wraps up with each of us carrying a Handful of dirty dishes into the kitchen. Piled high into the sink with an unspoken agreement to get to them tomorrow.

I watch the two of them joke and share inside info about their planned week ahead. Things I’d know if I lived here. Schedules that would make sense to me but are now new and unknown.

The two of them continue their conversation as I teeter my messy plate on top of an empty glass that once contained a milkshake. It feels weird to hear their voices in person again. The last time I was home was maybe two years ago? For Christmas?

Elizabeth is just as elegant as I remember. Tall, long red hair swept up into a modest pony tail. Barely a smudge of makeup on her but soft pale skin with a dash of freckles across her high cheekbones.

I remember standing on my tippy toes when we were little, getting measured against the doorframe, hoping and praying I’d grow as tall as my older sister.

Fate didn’t pay attention to my pleas. My body threw in the towel the minute I struck 5’3”. Cruel, if I’m being honest. She whisks about the kitchen making a funny face at something Emily said.

It feels like I’m in a fishbowl, hearing noises, knowing someone is speaking but it just sounds muffled and foreign to me. Like I’m not really here.

Emily makes another comment that pulls a laugh from Elizabeth. Emily has always been a lightning bolt. Even when she was a child. Her hair is cut into a blunt bob with thick heavy bangs. It’s dyed a dark brown that almost matches her hot chocolate colored eyes.

She’s maybe an inch shorter than me, a rarity in our family that the oldest sibling is actually the tallest. My younger sister however has a face full of makeup. It never looks to be too much, always tastefully done and complimenting her features.

They’ve changed so much and not at all from when I last saw them. From the pictures I’d had hanging in my apartment that now sit in a storage facility.

I feel the bubbling tightness in my chest and I’m yanked from my misty eyed staring. Being around them, their energy, I can feel parts of me clawing to get out. Like taking a spray bottle to a pesky cat, I shove it down.

Emily turned in first, working at a bakery requires her to be up before the sun. She gives me a quick hug once more.

“I really am excited you’re home…for however long.” Before starting up the stairs, sounds of the shower turning on and soft lilting singing to some show tune carries throughout the halls.

“Wine?” Elizabeth holds a glass up with a bottle of cherry wine, the deep scarlet liquid looks intoxicating.

“Please.”

We retreat to the porch as the last rays of sunset disappear behind the trees leaving that unsettling light blue that comes before navy then black.

The old rocking chairs groan as we take our seats. The sound the cork popping makes echoes throughout the woods surrounding the house.

I never forgot how quiet it gets. The crickets had just started their nightly serenade and a few owl hoots call out from a distance.

She pours me a hefty glass of the wine, handing it to me as we both delicately lean forward in our rickety chairs, balancing bottle and glasses.

Dozens of long shadows climb out from all around us. Reaching towards the front steps and skittering along the warped floorboards.

If I close my eyes it feels like I can even hear them calling out to me. Where have you been? Why have you been gone so long?

Every leaf, branch, blade of grass blending together to create large charcoal swaths against the forest floor. It both chills and excites me.

“It is nice, ya know? To have you home for more than four days at a time.”

I feel myself shaken from my stupor. Mind slowly drifting back to where it’s supposed to be in the present. On the porch. With my sister.

For the first time in years.

“You say that now since I’ve only been here for a few hours.” I take a long sip of the wine and let the fruity flavors dance on my tongue.

“I’m serious.” I hear her rocker stop creaking, her eyes focused on me. Like burning sapphires. I’d always been jealous of her eyes. “I think this…this will be good for all of us.”

I watch her take a drink before continuing, “We have a lot to catch up on.”

I ponder in silence, running my fingertip along the wine glass’ lip. For a little there’s only the sound of our rockers moving back and forth.

Occasionally I’ll hear the sounds of Emily getting ready for bed upstairs. A single car drives past on the road, far enough we can’t make it out save for the headlights.

The vibrant ripples of yellow cutting through the trees then fading into the distance. The trees gobble up the remaining light.

“How’s work been?”

Elizabeth smiles, pouring a little more wine into her cup. I notice as she sips deeply, letting her eyelids drift shut, pondering how to respond.

“It’s been good. I travel a little for work more now than usual but it’s ok. Rewarding.”

“I couldn’t do it. Be a midwife.” She nodded thoughtfully at my comment, staring off into the ever darkening tree line.

The moon is out, but I watch as it quickly becomes obscured by passing clouds.

“It can be tough, but I have this gift. It feels selfish to not use it. At least in a way that brings purpose to my life.”

I found myself nodding and staring off as well. Elizabeth is a healer, ever since she was little she had a knack for it. Never getting colds, being able to concoct awful tasting potions that somehow worked and cured a multitude of things.

Every witch can do basic magic but more often than not, there’s a specialty. A gift that is unique to that person.

Some people get lucky with theirs. Others not so much.

“You can go on the road with it. Really explore your options.”

“I do have over a hundred 5 star yelp reviews.” She grinned toasting her glass to the air.

“Elizabeth Dawson-“ I held my hand in front of me, punctuating gestures as if reading a headline, “Midwife To The Stars!”

We both giggled and took another sip after sloppily ‘cheers-ing’.

“Ahhhh I don’t know if California or New York is for me.” She chuckled, twisting a strand of her dark red hair held by her ponytail.

I settle back into my seat, rocking back and forth, pushing with my heels and feeling the entirety of my foot flatten then pitch back.

“Soooo Sebastyan?”

“Don’t start with me already.” Liz smirked at me, dipping her fingers in the wine glass and flicking a few drops in my direction.

Maybe this was ok. Maybe this would be ok.

How silly and naïve I was.

After half an hour of sitting on the porch and enjoying the entire bottle of wine, the sky had fully morphed from navy to inky black. The local owl continued to hoot, a rhythmic sound that I could feel myself drifting off too.

Elizabeth had already placed her glass on the counter by the sink, turning in for the night. Flipping the porch light off and only on occasion would the motion sensor light by the back door turn on.

Squirrels, chipmunks, raccoons maybe even a coyote or two always liked to wander up by the back door and sniff around our trash bins. I sat up reading in the living room a while longer, not quite ready to face my old room.

Instead choosing to inspect the first floor, wondering what new things I could pick out from the décor. A small painting of Emily’s rabbit, Artimus that was clearly done on a wine and paint night.

Large bookshelves lined the backwall surrounding the TV, so many books from Elizabeth’s studies, health magazines spread along the coffee table.

A wreath with some greenery bearing white berries and red bow, a few old coffee tins and tea containers holding either flowers or some assortment of pens and paintbrushes.

So much was the same and yet I still felt like an outsider.

Surrendering to the reality I did need to go to bed I gathered my phone, book and flicked off the last of the remaining lamps to ascend the stairs.

Our gallery wall floated along the steps. Photos of almost every generation of our family lay plastered against the drywall that desperately needed repainted.

Our parents wedding day, their smiling faces. Moms bright blue eyes and Dads goofy grin in his tuxedo which was so chic in the eighties. Then came photos of Grandma and Aunt Cora.

I quickly shuffled past them. I had weeks, no, months, to look at these and let the waves of guilt wash over me. Not tonight. Not before bed anyways.

Padding across the plush carpet to my bedroom, the door ajar and bedside lamp on. No doubt from Elizabeth. It didn’t escape my notice the bundle of lavender and dill laid on my pillowcase.

For protection. I hold the small bundle in my lap a moment, searching my mind for the exact spells its used for. My grandmother would have a fit if she knew it was taking me this long.

What can I say? I’ve been living life as a normal human for the past ten years to the best of my ability. Ignoring anything magickal or otherwise. I’d even avoided palm readers at the local county fairs I’d gone to.

I wanted little to nothing to do with magick. Regardless of how deep it ran in our family. I lay the bundle down on the end table right next to my phone.

Please protect me from bad dating app messages.

A stack of clean towels and beauty products rested on the toilet seat in the bathroom. I pulled my hair back into a low bun, splashing water onto my face and rubbing some milky cleanser that I knew had to be Emily’s onto my skin.

It smelled fragrant, like lemons and a sweet sugary after scent. Glancing up to survey the damage from the long day on my face, expecting to see dark circles, dull dry skin, but instead I looked fine. I looked normal.

Turning the cleanser over in my hands wondering if it had some “extra” properties in it that I wasn’t aware of but my younger glamorous sister did. I couldn’t see anything outside the ordinary.

I didn’t sense anything off.

Shrugging and placing it back on the counter, before returning back to my bedroom. Allowing myself to fall heavily against the mattress, a comical ‘huff’ escaping my lips. This was it. I was here.

For however long I needed to be. My fingertips ran up along the hem of the quit on my bed. Feeling the bumps of stitches along the pads of my fingers, the different textured fabrics. My eyes felt heavy.

Sleep called to me, sweet and deep. The edges of my vision blurred and darkened. With the last of my remaining alertness I turned the lamp off. I felt that deep heaviness fall over me.

In the far-off distance I could hear the owl once more. Then it was truly silent.

The back-sensor light came on. I whined as my room was immediately filled with a bright fluorescent light.

“What the hell...” I rubbed at my eyes, still not adjusted to such a bright searing light all of a sudden. Then I heard something knock against the garage. It didn’t sound like a skunk, or a raccoon.

Unless it was a huge raccoon.

Doubtful.

Pushing off of the bed I crouched down, making my way to the window. The curtains were sheer and the blinds were up. Peering around the side I craned my neck to see what was out there.

It was quiet. So startlingly quiet. No fauna chirping or calling out into an otherwise peaceful night.

The light was still on, but there was nothing in the yard. No animals, no creeps. Nothing.

I felt the hair on the back of my neck perk up. A green spark tickled the end of my fingertips and I didn’t even attempt to shove it away. My body knew there was something out there.

We’re so used to being the predator, never the prey. My eyes continued to scan back and forth, wondering if I needed to let one of my sisters know something was up.

Maybe this was normal? Did the light just randomly turn on from time to time? Ya know- technology? So efficient.

If that was the case why did I feel so…off? Something, isn’t right. Then I see it.

A flicker so fast that I’m half certain my mind made it up. Back in the tree line by the back of the garage, a different kind of darkness.

Not the shadows I had seen earlier from the trees on the porch. This is more opaque. It seems to undulate as it moves along the back of the yard. It doesn’t glide but rather jerks.

I feel my heart begin to race.

Its pace is slow, unseemly. Shadow against shadow and yet I can see it clear as day. Blackness that swallows the night whole. It’s form shivers and writhes against a large oak.

I must be dreaming. Yes. I’d fallen asleep and now I am dreaming something up that isn’t there. What a funny story I’ll have to tell my sisters in the morning.

But to be sure…

I grab my phone, sliding my finger across the screen to bring up the camera, pointing it out the back window. Somehow in the few moments it took me to grab my phone its gone.

The shadow isn’t where I last saw it. I am dreaming. I set my phone back down and then I see it. Or rather, it sees me.

It sees me, seeing it. And my body goes rigid.

Black malformed nothingness creeping along the garage and staring at me. Its featureless, save for cold pinpricks of red where eyes should be.

Red and beady, almost like light reflecting against an animals eyes.

It glows, but maybe anything would look glow-y against such a stark backdrop. The blood in my body runs like ice. The goose bumps have moved to my arms as well.

I don’t know how long we stare at each other. Maybe three seconds, maybe five minutes. I blink for the first time in I don’t know how long and when I stare back its gone.

Really gone this time.

I must have scanned the backyard and the fence and the woods and the garage multiple times for over ten minutes. I see nothing. My head feels fuzzy. Like I’d taken a large sleeping pill and have been fighting the effects for too long.

I hoist myself back into bed, because I am too afraid to go out there and check. Too tired to wake my sisters. It feels like my limbs have been replaced with sacks of flour.

Heavy, soft, the weight bringing me down. Pushing me against the mattress. I’m exhausted and alert and my body doesn’t know which to indulge more.

Eventually sleep wins and I drift off into a fitful night filled with dreams of sharp shadows following me. And one with red eyes leading the chase.

#billy russo #ben barnes #the punisher #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo fanfic #ben barnes character #the punisher fanfiction #the punisher au #fantasy fic #witch #witchy fic #spooky season #ben barnes fic #marvel au #marvel fanfic series #warlock!billyrusso #witch!mc

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foxy-eva · 1 year

Text

Snow & Mistletoe

Summary: There is nothing more magical than going on a first date with Spencer Reid right before the holidays

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: none

Word count: 2.6k

Author’s Note: This is my Criminal Minds gift exchange for @violetspoetic ! I hope you like it!

Masterlist

When I was a child I never truly believed that Christmas was right around the corner until the first snow of the season left powdery evidence on every surface outside. I clearly remember those mornings when I would stare out my window in awe, admiring how this thick white layer turned my hometown into a winter wonderland. The first snow of the season always took me by surprise but I could never stop smiling on those days.

I somehow felt the same way when Spencer asked me out on a date a few days ago.

So when that day finally arrived, it was only fitting that I spotted freshly fallen snow as I opened my curtains. I had already come to terms with the fact that I would spend this Christmas on my own when Spencer suddenly appeared one morning to mutter the words I had wished to hear ever since I started working with him.

The thought of him seeing more in me than just a coworker made me feel like my heart was about to jump out of my chest. For the days that followed after him asking me out I kept catching myself staring at him when he was sitting at his desk. He always looked so perfect with his unruly curls and his crooked tie.

More than once had his eyes met mine while I looked at him like that and it always evoked the same reaction. His cheeks took on the loveliest rosy shade while he timidly smiled at me. I couldn’t wait for this day to arrive so I was a little surprised that I didn’t feel ready at all when it finally did.

It took me longer than usual to get ready for our afternoon coffee, changing outfits several times until I found something I felt cute and comfortable in. Even though I arrived at the coffee shop a couple of minutes early, Spencer was already waiting for me at the door. Snow was still falling and had covered his hair and shoulders in white powder. The sight of him smiling and awkwardly waving at me as I approached let my heart skip a beat.

As he stood there in this picturesque background he looked like he had stepped right out of a painting of an artist long gone.

When I was close enough for him to hear me, I snickered, “You could have waited inside, you know. You must be freezing.”

“I don’t mind the cold actually,” he let me know.

“Really? Didn’t you basically grow up in the desert?”

“Pretty much,” he agreed. “But I have been living here for long enough to have gotten used to the cold.”

He opened the door for me and stepped into the coffee shop behind me. When I rid myself of my coat he took it from my hands to hang it up. It almost seemed like he was trying to conceal his nervousness with chivalry which I found very endearing.

Before we took our seats at the small corner table, he mumbled, “You look very nice by the way.”

“So changing my outfit five times was really worth it, huh?” I laughed.

Spencer raised his eyebrows at my statement. “Why’d you do that?”

“I wanted to look good,” I mumbled as I lowered my eyes to the table. “For you.”

It took him a moment to respond, so I found his eyes again. He was softly smiling at me when he finally said, “Just for the record, I have thought that you looked good in every outfit I have seen so far.”

“Thank you,” I said as I took a look at the purple dress shirt he was wearing. “And just for the record, I think you look very nice too.”

There it was again, this lovely light rose shade spreading across his cheeks. He averted his eyes from me to look at the coffee menu, nervously fidgeting with the paper in his hand. I really wanted him to feel more comfortable around me.

“Spencer?”

He looked at me again and responded with a cautious, “Yes?”

Reaching out my hand over the table, I gently brushed over his fingers. “You don’t have to be nervous.”

He stared down at my hand making contact with his for a moment before clearing his voice to tell me, “Thank you for saying that. I just know how awkward I can get and I really don’t want to mess this up.”

I intertwined my fingers with his to gently squeeze his hand. “I really want to be here with you. It’s almost impossible for you to mess this up.”

“Don’t underestimate my abilities,” he chuckled, making me chime in with my own laughter.

Conversation flowed easily after that, both of us becoming more comfortable around each other with every minute passing. After finishing our drinks, I noticed that it had stopped snowing and it was getting dark outside. Staring outside the window for a few moments, my thoughts were interrupted by the man sitting in front of me.

“What are you thinking?”

“I just thought about a TV show I watched years ago. There is a scene where a woman takes her friends to the part of town with the best Christmas decorations to get in a festive mood. Ever since I saw that, I made it my own personal tradition to find the street with the prettiest Christmas lights every year around the holidays,” I explained.

“Have you already found it this year?” Spencer asked.

I nodded. “Yes, but I haven’t seen it covered in snow yet. It always makes it a lot more magical.”

He got up from his seat and got my coat from the hanger, requesting in a playful tone, “Come on, show me! I really want to see it.”

The snow cracked underneath the soles of my shoes as I led the way to the street I had mentioned. It was a bit of a walk but I didn’t mind that as long as Spencer was by my side. I was certain that no matter how long this walk would last, he would share his warmth with me.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, I worded my current thoughts. “I can’t believe that it will be Christmas in a few days. It always feels like the world is turning particularly fast towards the end of the year.”

“Yeah I know what you mean. Do you have plans for the holidays?”

Shaking my head, I found his eyes. “Not really. Except for Rossi’s Christmas party, of course. I have heard wonderful stories about your hideous Christmas sweaters.”

Spencer started laughing, “It’s my own personal Christmas tradition to find the ugliest one to wear to the party.”

“I bet you’ll still look cute.”

“You think? I thought about not wearing one this year, though,” he confessed.

I stopped for a moment to turn to him. “Why not?”

“I wasn’t sure if I’d manage to ask you out before the party and I knew you wouldn’t agree to go out with me after seeing me in one of those sweaters,” he chuckled.

“You know what!” I chirped as I got ahold of Spencer’s hand. “I will wear an even uglier Christmas sweater to Rossi’s party.”

“I can’t wait to see that.”

After walking around for a few more minutes, we finally arrived at the street where I had found the prettiest Christmas lights this year. Now that everything was covered in snow it looked like it came right out of a fairytale book. Locking eyes with Spencer, I noticed how the colorful lights reflected in his eyes and I could have sworn that he had never looked more beautiful than in that moment.

He hadn’t let go of my hand yet and I felt him gently squeezing it as I let my eyes wander over the magic of the Christmas spirit. A warmth spread through my chest at the realization that he was the first person I had ever told about this and it made me more than happy that he was the one I could share this moment with.

A few moments of me admiring all the decorations and lights passed before I whispered, “Don’t you also feel enchanted by the beauty of this.”

Looking at him, I noticed that he was staring at me instead of the decorations. He agreed anyway by cooing, “Yes.”

“You’re not even looking!” I snickered.

He grinned at me as he exclaimed, ”Right, the lights! Yes, they look magical.”

Playfully I hit his shoulder when he protested, “I’m sorry, your face is very distracting.”

Spencer being flirty was still something I had to get used to but I sure wouldn’t mind him saying more of those lovely things.

After looking at the lights some more, he must have noticed me slightly shivering because he offered to walk me home. My apartment was only a couple of blocks from there and I already knew that I wouldn’t be ready to let this date end just yet. When we arrived at my doorstep, we kept lingering outside, neither of us keen on parting ways.

“Do you maybe want to come inside?” I finally offered and was relieved when Spencer agreed.

“Yeah I would like that.”

It was the first time for him to see my place and he took his time walking around the living room to take everything in.

“You know we’re not supposed to profile each other,” I reminded him.

He locked eyes with me and confessed, “Sorry, it’s hard to turn it off sometimes.”

“I know. So, what are you thinking?”

“That you’re a kind person who deeply cares about her friends and family. You have a sweet kind of humor that sometimes comes out a bit suggestive but you’d never let anyone know if that’s on purpose or not. You love all animals but especially cats. You see beauty everywhere in the world and like to remind your loved ones why life is worth living. It doesn’t take long for you to trust others because when you love someone, you always love them with all your heart.”

His words were overwhelming and I had to try my best to not lose my composure. I knew that he didn’t get all of that by just taking a look at my living room. He must have paid a lot of attention to the kind of person I am in the last three months of us working together. When he noticed my speechlessness, his smile dropped as he displayed an expression of concern.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep,” Spencer breathed as he stepped closer to me.

“No, you didn’t. This was just very unexpected,” I muttered. “Unexpected but so, so sweet.”

He dared to close the distance between us to pull me into his arms. I nestled my face against his shirt, breathing in his scent as he held me against his chest. It wasn’t the first time that he had wrapped his arms around me but quick happy-birthday-hugs could not compare to this. Being inside his embrace then felt like a chance for our hearts to touch as they thumped steadily against our chests.

Gently he let his palms brush over my back and I couldn’t tell if it was meant to soothe me or cater to his curiosity about feeling more of my body. I relished this sensation either way, something about being held by him felt so right. We had passed the appropriate time of a hug between friends a few seconds ago but neither of us wanted to let go of the other.

When I finally dared to loosen my grip around his waist, he leaned back to look at me and ask, “You okay?”

When I nodded I noticed his eyes wandering from my face to the ceiling, so I followed his sight until I spotted the mistletoes hanging right above us.

“Did Penelope make you hang those?” Spencer wondered.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure she came to all of our houses to hand out mistletoes.”

Spencer smiled as he agreed, “She’s been doing that for years. Did you know that originally the Romans hung mistletoes above doorsteps to protect the household? In the Christian era they were associated with fertility and vitality and that was the time when the kissing tradition came to life. By the 18th century mistletoes became incorporated into Christmas celeb–”

“Spencer,” I interrupted him.

“Yes?”

I didn’t mind listening to him sharing his knowledge but at that moment there was something more important I wanted him to do.

“Kiss me.”

He apparently didn’t need any more encouragement than that. With one hand cupping my cheek and the other one grabbing my waist, he pulled me closer until our lips almost met. Before he closed the remaining gap, he whispered, “I have wanted to do this for months.”

Tenderly his lips brushed over mine, letting my heart jump and sparks rush through my body. It was as if time stood still as bodies melted into one another with this kiss. My hands found their home in the nape of his neck, my fingers intertwined with his curls to keep him in place. The way my body followed his lead felt natural, my lips parting as soon as I felt his tongue timidly touch them. He deepened the kiss while pushing his body further into mine.

I felt his fingertips twitching against my waist as if he had to restrain from letting them wander over my body. His lips felt soft and delicate against mine, building a contrast to his rough stubbles tickling my face. I longed to see his warm eyes then, wanted to drown in the sticky honey they resembled so perfectly. But when I tried to pull back to look at him, he didn’t let me. He mumbled, “No,” and immediately caught my mouth with his again.

The way he couldn’t get enough of me made me smile into our kiss and I felt him doing the same. When my lungs started aching in need for more air, he let me pull back but kept his hands on me. He looked at me with wonder in his eyes and a grin prominent on his face. His gentle fingertips wandered over my cheeks before his lips met mine again for a chaste kiss, followed by a second and a third one.

I was sure that no matter how quick his kisses would be, I would remember them for a lifetime. I wanted every last corner of my brain filled with the memory of him and I still had so much room for more. The need to feel him again overtook me and I yearned to be closer although my lips were still tingling from our previous kiss.

“That still wasn’t enough,” I purred.

He lowered his face once more and mumbled against my lips, “Agreed.”

This time it was me who deepened the kiss and I realized that no matter how long our union lasted, I could never get enough of him. Many moments passed as we stood in the middle of my living room inside each other’s arms, sharing kiss after kiss until we decided to sit down on the couch.

He had his arm wrapped around my waist to keep me close but I wouldn’t have dared to leave any distance between us anyway. There was no need to share too many thoughts, just looking at each other was enough at that moment. My fingers still played with his hair and he seemed to enjoy the way I displayed affection.

When I remembered our conversation from earlier, I realized that I had forgotten to ask him something. “I never got to ask you what your plans were for Christmas. Do you know what you will be doing?”

A smug grin appeared on his face as he leaned closer to capture my lips in another kiss before whispering against them, “Hopefully more of this.”

And oh my, did I hope for that, too.

Feedback helps me stay motivated to write more fics and your comments mean the world to me! Let me know what you think here!

Taglist: @cmgiftexchange @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @spookydrreid @gspenc @justreadingficsdontmindme @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @delicatespencer @malindacath @pauline5525mgg @sanaz1dlol @luna-novae @pygmygoat-bicyclehelmet @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @s4r4hsblog @sebs-oxygen @reidsmilf @beepbooptoop @lovejules888 @liltimmyst @encyclo-reid-ia @lilibet261 @fandomstuffff @spencer-reid-wonderland @happymangospot @conniesanchor @jordierama @daniacat @ellamaianderson @cynbx @feltonswifesworld87 @sweetannanas

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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findroleplay · 9 months

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🪼 seeking …

here are some plots i’m looking for in particular;

- fantasy setting with world-building inspired off playing cards and their sets. would really love working with something that includes magic, fictional kingdoms etc. really corny but i love making fictional cultures inspired off real ones whilst being respectful :]

- a group of vigilante thieves of various cultural backgrounds stealing cultural monuments and treasures from museums, personal collections, etc and redistributing them to their respective locations of origin. delving into the themes of decolonization, cultural reconnection and such.

- a silly supernatural horror plot set in small-town americana concerning a group of college students returning to their hometown where they’ve all befriended each other. preferably set in the 1980s.

- plot set in ancient egypt, persia, greece, etc about two very ordinary people, mostly to research their daily life, traditions, conditions and other things. could be a cozy romance, two soldiers off at war, but whatever it is, no supernatural elements, just realism.

- an art restorer and a historian team up to uncover the secrets behind a painting.

🪼 rules & preferences !

1. ocs only. although i appreciate knowing about pre-made characters, i would really appreciate if the ocs we use for these plots are made specifically for them, and not old ocs being put into a random setting. reusing ideas is okay.

2. 18+

3. talk ooc + be communicative

4. preferably advanced lit.

🪼 characters !

i require characters that come across as authentic, human, and individuals with real agency. i’m not fond of characters that are excessively naive or perfect. i love characters that are distinctive, unconventional, well researched and resonate with specific interests, evolving in step with the narrative. given that i am a person of colour, my characters frequently are too. if you're not inclined to explore a range of diverse cultural backgrounds and settings, it's likely that we won’t make a good match.

🪼 genres & themes !

i love slice of life, historical realism, and social realism. period pieces captivate me, regardless of the era. i’m particularly fond of plots that explore characters and themes in depth and including fun symbolism. i absolutely adore discussing head-canons, scenarios, and themes, as well as create pinterest boards and playlists for our characters.

🪼 ooc !

tbh, connecting outside of the rp holds greater importance to me than any other aspect. if there's a lack of enthusiasm or engagement, or if we only interact during plotting, our compatibility is likely to be compromised. establishing a friendship with my partners ensures my sustained interest in the rp.

🪼 communication !

i thrive alongside enthusiastic writers who bring decisiveness and a strong passion for the rp. collaboratively shaping ideas and themes before and during our discussion sessions is crucial. i do not mind getting to know each other before plotting. connecting beforehand allows ideas to organically flourish, ensuring an enjoyable story for us both!

🪼 pairings !

i handle all character pairings with a focus on agency. i can work with a diverse array of dynamics, from tranquil domesticity to toxic relationships. my roleplays often prioritize a variety of relationships, veering away from solely heteronormative ones. crafting intricate dynamics involving characters of different backgrounds and sexualities is my forte. trans and non-binary characters are wholeheartedly welcome, if not preferred. i have the most experience with queer pairings (mlm, wlw, t4t, etc.)

🪼 interested ? leave a note or leave your discord username and i will reach out ! if you decide to reach out to me, include your preferred name & pronouns as well as a fun fact about you, the plot you’re choosing and the reason why you picked it (this will help me start plotting with you right away!)

#fantasy rp #historical rp

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annieqattheperipheral · 8 months

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yohe's recap fri-sun. behind $wall so here u go:

HALIFAX, Nova Scotia — It’s a pleasant, autumn afternoon in downtown Halifax. A bartender is shaking his head in the city’s bar district, telling tales of Nova Scotia’s favorite son while NFL games beam on background televisions.

The topic is predictably Sidney Crosby.

“He’s here all the time in the summer with Nate (MacKinnon),” the bartender said. “People never leave him alone. Sits here and signs autographs all night. He’s almost too nice for his own good, you know? But he’s just such a good guy. He just sits here and signs and signs, and just talks with everyone, and poses for pictures. People love it. You have to understand how proud of him we are.”

That much is quite clear.

Preseason games don’t typically receive much in the way of hoopla. Even Erik Karlsson’s exhibition season debut was met with thousands of empty seats at PPG Paints Arena on Thursday.

But this is different. Much, much different. The Pittsburgh Penguins are playing the Ottawa Senators on Monday in downtown Halifax at Scotiabank Centre and it’s a preseason game, only you wouldn’t know it by the buzz in this beautiful, seaside city.

As of Sunday, there were around 300 tickets available on StubHub. The majority of these are selling for more than $1,000. The average price for a ticket on StubHub is around $1,100, and the most famous Taylor in the building will be Crosby’s sister.

“It’s all pretty crazy,” said Ryan Graves, another Nova Scotia native.

Crosby and the Penguins arrived in Halifax late on Friday afternoon. They had a “team bonding” day on Saturday, which included a scavenger hunt and Crosby acting as a personal tour guide for his teammates, most of whom had never been to Halifax.

“I was definitely feeling the pressure,” Crosby said with a smile. “Wanted to make sure guys enjoyed it. It’s a great place. I’m really proud of my home and what it has to offer.”

Rest assured, the feeling from his hometown is mutual.

All across Canada, Crosby is understandably a national hero. He’s one of the greatest players of all time, an incomparable gentleman, scorer of the golden goal and captain of the greatest generation of Canadian hockey.

In Pittsburgh, Crosby is a civic icon. In a city that reveres its sports legends more than most, Crosby’s face will rest on the Mount Rushmore of Western Pennsylvania greats alongside the likes of Mario Lemieux and Roberto Clemente, singular artists whose character somehow exceeded their athletic exploits.

And yet, in Halifax, the affection Crosby receives is even more noteworthy if slightly understated, as is the custom of this province’s people. Like Crosby himself, the people here are polite and kind. Crosby always smiles when Nova Scotia is mentioned. Unfailingly.

When his name is mentioned around the proud people of Halifax, they smile in turn.

“Hard not to,” Graves said.

The Penguins practiced on Sunday morning only minutes from Crosby’s boyhood home at Cole Harbour Place. The small building was filled with hundreds of fans, who overflowed the venue for hours. Hundreds of others stood outside, patiently waiting for a glimpse of Crosby.

Graves grew up in Nova Scotia, albeit three hours away. He is the best-suited member of the Penguins to explain what Crosby’s appearance in the Maritimes means, and what his presence over the years has done for hockey in this region.

Some players from Nova Scotia reached the NHL before Crosby, but his arrival — and subsequent domination of the league — changed everything, according to his new teammate.

“You can just see from the reaction of the people,” Graves said. “You can tell what it means to this area, what he’s done. He’s the first one from out east that really had an impact on everybody. Sid was the first one to pave the way. The impact he’s had on Mac (MacKinnon), myself, (Ottawa’s Drake) Batherson … you know, you always think things are possible. But when you have someone that’s actually done that, it becomes more real. You understand the pathway that they took. It gives you someone to root for. Everyone loves him. Everyone. He’s an idol to a lot of people. Eight, 10-year-old kids love him. People my parents’ age love him. He’s had an impact on so many people. It’s really cool that the Penguins brought us here to do this.”

Some athletes like to cultivate the image of giving back to the community when, in reality, their contributions are far smaller than the accompanying hype. Crosby is quite the opposite. He’s well known to visit Children’s Hospital in Pittsburgh on a regular basis, for instance, but is insistent that the media not chronicle these visits. It’s simply his way.

It was fitting, then, that Crosby’s day on Sunday was particularly full, even if he couldn’t hide from the media on this occasion.

After the Penguins practiced, Crosby returned to the ice. He participated in a hockey clinic for dozens of young Nova Scotian players, and he wasn’t alone. His good friend, Evgeni Malkin, joined him for the clinic. So did Graves. And so did the entire Penguins coaching staff, including Mike Sullivan.

“We all play because we love it,” Crosby said. “Obviously we have dreams of being in the NHL. Sometimes that works out, sometimes it doesn’t. Hopefully it gives them the belief that, just because you’re from a small town, you can make it.”

While Crosby, Malkin, Graves and the coaching staff were on the ice, the rest of the Penguins players were signing autographs and participating in Q&As with children and other members of the Nova Scotian community. Crosby also invited and spoke with families who lost their houses during the horrific wildfires that impacted so much of Canada earlier this year.

“This whole thing has been great,” Jeff Carter said. “Everybody knows what Sid means to the community here. And I think everyone understands how many things he does for people off the ice. It’s been a special weekend for him. He’s very proud of where he grew up. That’s obvious. I think it’s been special for him, yes, but it’s also been a really great experience for all of us.”

Graves said the hockey community in Nova Scotia is an underappreciated one and that he hopes events like this underscore how passionate this province is for hockey.

“It’s all just so cool to see,” he said. “People here love this sport. They’re crazy for it. You see when the world juniors are here, everything is sold out. The Czech and Slovakian game even sold out. People love it. It’s crazy. People love the players who are from around here, too. People around here are blue-collar, hard-nosed people. It makes it fun for them to root for a person like Sidney. When I was a kid, the Islanders came here once for a week of training camp. I thought it was the coolest thing ever.”

And with all due respect to the Islanders, they aren’t Crosby.

“I can’t even imagine what it would be like to have a practice with the Penguins in my hometown rink, the place I grew up in,” Marcus Pettersson said. “Man, would that be awesome. But with Sid, everything is different. And it’s all because of the kind of human being he is.”

The crowd buzzed throughout Penguins practice on Sunday, with the massive contingent of children chanting Crosby’s name throughout.

“So, you see how he’s worshipped here,” Pettersson said. “You see it right away. And honestly, it’s because of the things he does in the community even more than the hockey player that he is. People know he’s a great person, but they don’t even understand all of it, all of the things he does when people aren’t looking, the way he treats people. People are smart, though. They know. He wouldn’t be worshipped the way he is if he weren’t a great person. He sets that standard and that precedent every day. We’ve just been walking around town, and you start to see that people are proud to be from here because Sidney Crosby is from here. I think that tells you a lot.”

As the years have rolled on, Crosby’s bond with his head coach has notably grown stronger. It was only fitting that Sullivan played a big role in the big weekend.

“It’s a great tribute to the legacy Sid has built,” Sullivan said.

Crosby and the Penguins once played a preseason game in Halifax, back in September of 2006. Given that it’s been 17 years since the Penguins have been here, it’s a pretty fair bet that this could be the final time that Crosby skates before his hometown fans.

“It’s been nice,” he said. “I never thought I’d have an opportunity to do this. I had a lot of morning practices in this rink. I had dreams of playing in the NHL. I didn’t think I’d ever be here with our team, doing something like this. You just try to take it all in and enjoy it.”

Crosby is perhaps the most hyped prospect in hockey history. Even before he was drafted, scouts and others who knew him raved about his personality and his character. This, they insisted, was a boy who was different than the rest.

“He’s just the best,” Pettersson said.

Crosby’s last NHL-related event in his hometown was in 2016 when a parade with the Stanley Cup was held in his honor.

Troy Crosby shook his head when pondering the last time the hockey world descended upon Nova Scotia to witness his son.

“Halifax has changed a lot since then,” Crosby’s father noted.

The boy, who became a man, who became a hockey god, has never really changed at all.

His homeland is all the better for it.

“This is a weekend people are going to remember for a really long time,” Graves said. “To the people here, it’s everything.”

#sidney crosby #halifax showdown #pittsburgh penguins #ryan graves #marcus pettersson #mike sullivan #jeff carter

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d1sc01nf3rn0 · 8 months

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Last year I decided to make a list of art prompts for October based on the manga "Blue Period".

I reread all the manga from the beginning, and decided to emulate the practices Yatora makes during the story, as a way to practice and get out of my zone of comfort.

I edited the list on my cellphone, so it looks kind of wonky; but the background was painted by myself using watercolors, trying to emulate the colors Yatora uses at the beginning to paint Shibuya.

I'll put the list here in case it isn't legible, and hopefully I will submit my own pieces during the month; but the purpose of this list isn't to be completed as some sort of challenge, I made it thinking about experimenting with my work. Feel free to use the tag #blueperiodprompts in case you use my list, so I can see other's people works.

Here's the list:

1. Draw a scenery

2. Draw a still life

3. Make a watercolor painting

4. Take a nice picture

5. Make a collage

6. Draw something on a black background

7. Draw a person from behind

8. Go to an art exhibition

9. Draw something using geometric shapes 10. Draw something that's important to you

11. Draw something based on a song

12. Draw something that's on the room

13. Draw something based on water

14. Draw something about daily activities

15. Draw a self portrait

16. Fill a entire canvas with a single concept

17. Draw something based on where you live

18. Draw your favorite food

19. Make something using a different techniques to what you're used to

20. Draw something on a small canvas

21. Draw an animal

22. Draw a plant or a flower

23. Draw an sculpture you like

24. Do a color wheel

25. Draw a naked person

26. Do a maquette

27. Draw your hometown

28. Do a mosaic

29. Recreate a painting you like

30. Paint using a textured object

31. Do a collaboration

#blue period #blue period manga #art prompt #art prompts #art practice #manga prompts #ezra draws

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ferronickel · 22 days

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Looking Glasses FAQ

Where are Kris and Noelle? They're in their first semester of college! In this story they both fill the role that Asriel does in the game. Our protagonists are waiting for them to return to hometown on their college break, which means they are theoretically meant to appear at the end of the story. However, both of them have roles to play in the story sooner rather than later. That said, this comic isn't about Kris or Noelle. I am most interested in the perspectives of Ralsei, Lancer, Susie, and Dess, so the story is going to center them as characters.

Why is Lancer older? He's 16 in this comic. He's a few years younger than the rest of the fun gang, but I've always felt like he was more of a weird, immature/sheltered teen than a literal baby.

Is there strong shipping in the comic? Looking Glasses is a story about how relationships change and grow when some of your friends move away for college and leave you behind. So relationships, both platonic and romantic, are integral to the plot, but if you're looking for cute Suselle or Kralsei moments I would look elsewhere.

How far into the story are we/how many chapters are planned? Looking Glasses is currently on Part 2 out of 7. My current projection is that the finished comic will have ~300 pages.

What do you use to draw the comic? I do all of my drawing in Clip Studio Paint. I occasionally build 3D models for backgrounds in Houdini.

When does Looking Glasses update? Currently I update the comic every 10 days, on alternating Mondays and Thursdays. Like this:

If that's confusing, don't worry, I usually put the date I'll release the next page on each update. I wish I could update on a more regular schedule but this comic is pretty intensive to make and I have a bad repetitive stress injury from drawing, so this is about as fast as I can go.

#looking glasses #faq #for the masterpost #I'll add more as people ask questions so feel free to send me your questions

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lavenderhhaze · 1 year

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YOU'RE MEDICINE

pairing: hyunjin x fem!reader

wc: 1.9k

about: where he is forced to return to everything he has been running away from: his hometown, delivered texts, declined invitations and you.

warnings: death of family members, funerals, underage drinking and smoking, panic attacks, problems with showing vulnerability, allusions to a kiss, swearing

“ my own hometown never felt like home. i'm not asking for your pity, but there's nowhere left to go ”

Hyunjin is the curse of misfortune.

He is cigarette ash and narcissism. He is a watercolor painting, blues and greens with purples and pinks. And unfortunate. Watercolor bleeds.

It is 1:28, clear as day, phone pressed to his ear when he is delivered the unfortunate news. The world stops, the NYC rush fading into the background until the faint buzzing is the only thing he can hear.

Time stretches and compresses in its own pace. The rush from his apartment to the airport is silent. Ticket to Central Japan booked for his two-day stay, his heart a hollow in his chest as he prepares to face the hometown which never felt like home, his mind already lost in the city that was once his father's.

The funeral is quiet — a private, reserved occasion with only his immediate family in sight. Hyunjin is listless; tired eyes and tight smile as he goes through the formalities, thanking everyone who came, pushing back any sense of deja vu that comes over him. Now the oldest Hwang in line, everything falls upon him — another responsibility on his burdened shoulders.

It is after that, when the sadness hits, the guilt pulls him down by the ankles and the mourning begins. It is when he is alone in his hotel room, the white untouched sheets making him homesick for something he can't put a finger on.

He scrolls through his contacts for someone, anyone to guide him through the building hysteria in his chest. It is a strange sort of feeling, the tranquility he had forced himself into subsiding to give way to distress.

He runs through his options mentally: Jisung, Chan, Yeji, Changbin, his heart sinking deeper into guilt as he arrives at his last option — you. He is forced to relive the memories of every unanswered invitation to missed highschool reunions and every message delivered but not replied to.

All of this simply because Tokyo had become overwhelming for him — every memory too bittersweet for his conscience. The city had become restrictive, the air confining. And so, he chose to leave. A new life in New York, a new dance programme, his own new beginning.

Hyunjin is two. He looks around in confusion as his family mourns his grandfather's death. He sits next to his father, across from the shrine, knees politely tucked under him. He doesn't understand death, of course. Not yet. He breathes in burning incense, rejoicing the sweet scent of pine wood as he patiently waits for grandfather to be back from yesterday's morning walk.

Hyunjin is five, his boyish laughter echoing through the playground. And suddenly, it stops. He trips and falls, his knee scraped on concrete. He whines and tears well in his eyes as he is hushed and coddled by his mother. He knows what pain is, of course. It's purely physical, easy to forget after a few words of affection.

Hyunjin is eleven. Older, taller, leaner. He finds himself sitting across from the shrine again. Only this time, his mother's face stares back at him sweetly from the frame set on the table. Candles litter the table, bouquets of flower placed sparingly in between. It's the same pine incense from ten years ago, only this time, he knows what death entails.

Hyunjin is fifteen, sitting cross-legged in a crowd of eight on Jisung's birthday. He has a beer can held lazily in his fingers, a courtesy of Changbin's, occasionally taking sips to keep himself entertained. Jisung leans forward, spinning the empty glass bottle eagerly. Hyunjin's eyes follow, led by the bottle as it finally stops — at you.

Everyone cheers. Apprehension is a feeling shared only between you both. Another sip and he leaves the can on the floor as he moves over to you. You stare, wide eyed, awaiting, almost speculative. He leans in, the chant of both your names a constant in the background. And so it is — Hwang Hyunjin's first kiss, half-drunk, half-sober.

Hyunjin is seventeen, built against inhibition. Long black hair, cold brown eyes and porcelain skin. It isn't his looks though, that gains him attraction. It is the way he carries himself — with this elegant sort of arrogance.

It is the way he moves, so fluid and unsuspecting that always guides the school's dance crew to their trophy. Minho's favourite student, despite how he smells of cigarette ash and is late to every recital. It is the extra hours he puts in, where it's the music, him and the ticking clock in the empty dance studio. And as time calls — his last year in Tokyo.

Hyunjin is nineteen. Reputed dance programme in NYC. He doesn't miss Tokyo. He misses you. He misses Jisung. The only constants through the past years. Unfortunately, it doesn't come without missed calls, declined invitations and delivered texts he never replied to.

He has days where the world is unbearable, texts are overwhelming and memories too heavy. And the only way he finds his grip back? Letting go. As he has done time and time again.

And finally, he is twenty-two, heavy heart mourning deaths — his father's and his friendship's. Too tired from living through every experience Tokyo brought back to him, his own movie playing in front of his eyes, he lies down. He's weary, he's tired.

As the moment of vulnerability shows, he's crying with noone watching. It's silent and fatigued. His overdrive of emotions giving finally giving way to sleep as midnight fades into morning.

And that morning, Hyunjin decides, he needs to see you. He needs your grounding to hold him together when everything he knows is falling apart.

He knows every turn by heart — right from the second downtown alley and the fifth apartment counting from the convience store. Number 105, flat 16.

The dimly lit staircase and chipped wall paint floods a tide of repressed memories over him. Running upstairs, tailing Yeji with Jisung at tow, the made up competition to who sees you first subsides in a fit of laughter. New Year mornings spent in your balcony, eyes awaiting for the fireworks to begin. Festive air and childhood resignation.

It all has worn off, just like the beige paint revealing the cracked plaster underneath. Disappointing. Unwelcome.

"Flat 16" stares back at him dauntingly. He is not the boy he recalled being at 17. He's fragile, with you holding the power to break him. His arrogance has dusted off, leaving bare his raw emotions to be judges and ridiculed.

He hears shuffling after his apprehensive knock. Seconds stretching far too thin before the door finally creaks open.

You. Similarly worn out, equally tired. Not the girl he remembers kissing at 15.

You. With the same softness and that bitter edge, the sarcasm to compete with his.

Hyunjin feels a surge of emotions, somewhere in between wanting to cry and wanting to curl up out of sheer fucking happiness, both overpowering each other as he gives in and smiles — giddying, fulfilling and intimate.

"Hi."

You blink. Once. Twice. Taking in the sight before you. The same hyunjin from years ago. Stunned silence halts only to be further followed by disbelief.

"Hyunjin."

It's the same way you had said it years ago — an aggregate of every sort of emotion: begining with anger, contempt, surprise, apprehension and ending with this resignated sort of joy.

"The fuck you looking at?"

You laugh, stepping back and letting him into your personal space. It feels strange, in a way. It's almost a stranger you see in him. The hyunjin you remember was arrogance personified, teenage enigma, the corners of his lips turned up with only a touch of fragility to remind you he was still human. That's what you remember seeing first. That's what you remember falling for.

It's the same man that stands before, taking a seat at the edge of your unmade bed.

He clears his throat, casual, as if the years of no-contact was but a terrible dream. Apprehensive of your response at first, but his shoulders slouch with comfort as the ease sets in.

He agrees to your offer of beer, relaxing even further next to you. Two cans of beer sir opened on your bedside table, shoulders nudging into each other as you both laugh, reminiscing evenings spent in similar fashion.

The past few years have been a burden on his shoulders, it is evident to you. Yet, it doesn't show in the way he smiles, doesn't affect the flush of his cheeks when he tips his head back, his laughter so full. He doesn't let it slip when his slender fingers trace his scars, one running across his forearm and the second on his cheek, recounting their stories.

He asks how you have been, and you answer, aware of how he does everything he can to whisk to the conversation towards you. Your future. Your family. Your life. You.

He wishes he could stay here, relishing in your comfort before he prepared himself to face the world outside. There is so much left for him to do, begining with the plane ticket to New York in less than 8 hours.

And with this thought as his last straw, Hwang Hyunjin cracks. He counts his fears out aloud, for the first time. Despite the assurance of you being there, of your warm hand on his forearm and your cheek pressed to his shoulder, he's afraid.

He doesn't need to explain himself, not to you, he is aware. It is but instinctive to push you away. He doesn't need anyone. He hasn't until today. But you. You bring this sort of relief he hasn't felt ever before. Lowering his guard had been terrifying. But vulnerability is the cost of comfort.

He feels your hands cradle his face as your thumbs wipe away the tears that slip past his inhibition. Your eyes are warm, intent and he finally catches the glimpse — pity. Fuck.

His hands are quick to grab at yours, wrists enclosed between his shaky fingers as he pulls them away from his face. Pity was the last thing he wanted from you.

"I'm not asking your your pity," his voice is hoarse, strained. "I just…have nowhere else to go."

And it takes seconds. You don't pity him. You couldn't, ever. You convince him. Your words bleed into each other until you are sure be believes you. His heart under your unsteady finger tips to prove a point.

Hyunjin still is cigarette ash and narcissism. Just in a more broken sort of way. He is a water colour painting that bleeds. And at 7:32, September the 13th, when his hands are wound around your waist and his lips are on yours for the second time, Hwang Hyunjin is the freest man he has ever been.

A/N: inspired by this song called Japan by Wallice. About everytime being vulnerable would make you feel better.

#stray kids angst #bang chan #skz angst #skz fluff #skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids hyunjin #skz #hwang hyunjin fanfic #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz fanfic #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #stray kids fanfiction #skz x you

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