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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 1 month ago

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Peter, Peter

Spencer Reid x Female Reader (Implied Smut)

Summary: Season 2 Spencer and his girlfriend host a Halloween party and their couple costume causes some confusion

Note: Inspired by the scene in which Spencer doesn't recognize the kissing in a tree rhyme

Spencer loved Halloween. I knew that my boyfriend was a massive nerd. Honestly, it was a plus. With Spencer, I could be myself. He wasn't the type of man to raise his voice at a football game gone wrong. He wasn't the type of man had some weird purity culture blocks on me reading steamy books.

He was the type of man to passive-aggressive judge Jeopardy clues with the slightest inaccuracy. In my opinion, Spencer got a perfect score on the Jeopardy application which retroactively banned him from any type of game show in the franchise.

He was the type of man that encouraged enthusiastic and unabashed interest in things. Spencer had his old Russian novels and I had my novels with plenty of euphemisms for penis and good girl in Russian.

Compatibility, right?

Spencer had volunteered us to host team party. They spent the day hoping from grocery store to craft store to liquor store for various things they needed. The fall had finally arrived; and I welcomed the crispiness in the morning and the chill in the evening. Spencer wore a forest green and deep khaki sweater that complimented his eyes. He blushed when I told him, the tips of his reddened cheeks reached the bottom of his glasses.

"Ooh! We should use the pumpkins as a pitch for my Faerie Brew." I suggested, sizing up a rather large and lumpy orange pumpkin.

Spencer cocked his head. "What were you thinking of making?"

"Personally I think a pumpkin sangria would be revolting..." I sighed, thinking, "probably I'd do an apple, cranberry, lemonade sangria."

"Sounds like you and Penelope will be the ones to enjoy that?" He teased. Penelope was the first of the team to know. Spencer had a hard time hiding the reason as to why Penelope had caught him a florist near their apartments. I had met Penelope a couple weeks later and in the eight months since, we've become close friends. Mostly because I've grown to hate nights alone in our apartment. It's not the same without Spencer.

Spencer lifts the pumpkin and places it into the cart, waving off my insistence on helping. "Are you going to tell me what the costumes are? Derek really thinks he's slick doing what he's doing with his date."

"You'll see."

"Tell me, Y/N." Spencer pushed the cart along, stopping as I toss a packet of orange jello.

"I've never done jello shots." I claimed. "I was too serious and nerdy in college." Spencer gave me an amused look.

"I'm sure between the two of us, I was the nerdiest one back in college." He retorted, a look a smugness colored his face.

"You were twelve in college, Spencer." I countered, smiling when the tips of Spencer's crooked smile reached the part where his cheeks tinged red. "And you're lucky you're cute." I said. "But I want jello-shots."

"I'll get the sleeping bag out for Penelope. And we'll swing by the drinks aisle for some electrolytes."

---

Spencer had gotten stuck planning a seminar at the Academy so Penelope had decided to come over to help me the finishing touches. She was dressed as Hedy Lamar, the scientist/film star. The 1940s style suited her. Penelope had a bright red lip and perfectly curled blonde hair. Her dress with fitted at the waist and flared to the knees.

"You're a pumpkin?" Penelope's eyebrows were raised. She had begun organizing the jello shots tray into something resembling a pumpkin. "I would've thought you'd having the most creative costume."

I plated the mini-hot dogs into warming trays, trying to hide my thrill. I knew that Penelope would love this costume in its entirety. Spencer...he'd either love it or not.

"You'll see!" I said. Penelope had roped JJ and Emily into dressing up like the Powerpuff girls. Penelope, between the trio, had taken it the most seriously.

The rest of the team had arrived, except for Hotch who had simply shaken his head at the thought of trying Penelope's Franken-Punch. I poured the sparkly green liquid into a plastic pumpkin as Spencer walked into our apartment.

"You're the cutest pumpkin in the patch." Spencer said softly, his playful tone making me smile. Penelope pretended to gag into the kitchen sink at Spencer's sickly sweet affection.

"Usually I'd think you two are adorable, but tonight I am preoccupied." Penelope claimed. She had set her sights on one of Derek's gym buddies who was coming to the party. Much to Derek's chagrin. "Anyway, Reid. Go get your costume on." She insisted.

Spencer kissed the side of my cheek and made a face at the concoction. "You know calling this Franken-Punch isn't very accurate. The doctor is the one named Frankenstein." Penelope gave him a look. And Spencer threw his hands up, "All I'm saying is that if we're going to pay homage to the mother of science fiction we shouldn't be so cavalier with references."

Penelope huffed in faux annoyance as I kissed Spencer's face. "Go get ready, honey. JJ and Emily should be coming soon. And I think Derek and Danny are parking." I handed Spencer the bag with his costume in it and Penelope and I continued to get the apartment ready for the party.

It was hard to decide if Penelope was more enamoured with Danny or if Danny was more enamoured with her. It would be hard not to find someone who wasn't taken with the tech genius.

I sipped the drink Penelope had made. It tasted as good as it looked. Derek stood at my side, scooping some dip, chips, and a slice of pizza on his plate. Spencer came from our bedroom, a confused look on his face.

"And now what on Earth do you have him dressed as?" Derek smirked, as he noticed the text on Spencer's shirt.

Peter, Peter

"It's not anything that's not true." I shrugged, my bright orange cheeks smiling as I winked. Spencer hurried over, still confused. Penelope, JJ, and Emily took pictures together but instantly understood Spencer's confusion.

"Too much for me to know," Penelope said, groaning, "Now I see the creativity in this costume." She gestured to my pumpkin outfit.

Spencer appeared at my side, still confused. "Are you sure this isn't a mistake?" He asked, looking down at his shirt and then at me, "It's supposed to be a couple's costume, baby?"

Derek chuckled, offering to clink his and Spencer's glasses in cheers, "My man. Who would've thought."

Penelope giggled as she and the girls filled their plates and exchanged looks of both surprise and amusement. Spencer, however, remained confused. Danny, Derek's friend from the gym who wouldn't leave Penelope alone, joined in on the clever costume.

"Peter, peter, pumpkin eater. Good man," He said, clapping Spencer on the shoulder.

When the guests had gotten their food and drink Spencer and Derek stood together chatting about the results of the latest case. Gideon, who reluctantly donned a witch's hat, offered a curious glance at Spencer's shirt and then scanned his eyes towards me. He nodded, looked at Spencer and then shook his head in disbelief.

"That's enough." Spencer exclaimed. "Explain it to me." He grabbed my hand and I smiled. He always told me that my grins were infectious and just by looking at me he'll end up smiling. "Please. Derek won't stop congratulating me and I'm lost."

I chuckle, kissing Spencer on his cheek. "You're brilliant, baby." I said. "You're Peter, Peter and I'm the pumpkin. And you're a pumpkin eater." I explained.

"Oh." Spencer said cocking his head. "Makes sense. You're very sweet and I do like-" I clapped my hand over Spencer's mouth before he can continue. Sometimes that mind works too fast for the other parts of him to keep up. He kissed my palm, breaking my resolve. I laughed wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him.

"Y/N!" Penelope called out, clearly more than inebriated, "We want to play some games. And don't worry Dr. Reid, no bobbing for apples. We'll by the looks of it, you'll be bobbing for someone's pumpkin later." She smirked.

We divided into teams three, with Spencer and I on the same team. We shared the armchair and Spencer's had wrapped themselves around my waist. Penelope, in all her drunken glory, explained the rules. Just as she was going over the rules, Spencer gasped and called out.

"Oh! You mean like...cunniligus. Well then yeah, I guess it works."

tagging some friends bc i don't have a taglist anymore

@reidsbookclub @reidsbookclub @reid-ingandweeping @foxy-eva

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #my writing

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idkwhatever580 · 1 month ago

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You Like Me?

Pairings: WandaNat, WandaNatxreader (eventually)

Prompt: I decided to pair this prompt and this prompt together to create one big mess :)

Warnings: Poly couple, swearing, Nat being kind of a bitch, crying, a wee bit of angst I assume, fluff, soft Wanda, suggestive tones, shit writing, really im serious this writing is so shit, lmk if I missed any!

A/N: I really hope I did y'all justice because this is my first time writing WandaxNatxreader so please bear with me as I probably write a trainwreck of a story @sxlfishbrokenheart

Also don't ask what is going on with the povs I am clearly struggling throughout the whole damn thing T-T

Natasha's thoughts = Red

Wanda's thoughts = Orange

Y/n's thoughts = Purple

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Movie night at the Avengers' tower means cry night for you. Everyone in the tower has strict assigned seating so that nobody gets in a fight, even though it doesn't always keep the peace.

Everything seems to be great except for the fact that you have to sit beside Wanda and Natasha. Which isn't a problem for everyone else right? Wanda, Nat, and Y/N the towers' favorite trio...

Bestie trio, that is.

While Wanda and Nat are the perfect power couple, you're left as the third wheel that also happens to be pining for the both of them. So, while everyone thinks you love sitting with them on movie nights, you sit in agony while watching them out of the corner of your eye.

Sometimes Wanda, who sits in the middle of you and Nat, will pull you into her and claim that it's just what besties do. You of course, can't say no to her, so you end up running back to your room after most movie nights to cry about your wishful thinking.

You honestly can't even remember a movie night where you actually watched the movie. You usually just fall asleep in their arms trying to soak up the affection while you can.

But your dynamic has changed in the past few months...

Wanda is still super lovey and always pulls you in, maybe even more so than before, while Nat has become meaner and ruder towards you. So, you really feel like you're impeding on their relationship, which makes you get into your head.

Maybe Nat is being mean to me because she is jealous. Of course, she has a right to be jealous when Wands has been really close with me. I don't want to ruin their relationship. I'm not even trying anything. Maybe it is because they can sense that I like them. Oh my gosh, it is... Of course! Wanda is being extra nice because she pities me, while Nat is being mean because she is blunter and more obvious that she doesn't like me. I need to leave them alo-

You are cut out of your thoughts when a hand is placed on your thigh. That hand is none other than Wanda's, she leans in and says, "Hey, you alright?"

You quickly nod your head, and she visibly relaxes, but she continues, "Are you sure? Because we haven't even started watching anything and you look like you're zoned out on the tv that isn't even on."

This conversation peaks Natasha's interest, so she leans forward so she can see you past Wanda with an eyebrow raised. She is clearly waiting for you to conjure up an answer.

You quickly stutter out, "Oh- yeah, um, I am fine, I just- I just zoned out for a sec, you know how my ADHD can be."

Wanda squints her eyes and exchanges a look with Nat, but they let it slide. You still decide that you need to pull away from them, you can't be pretending like they are yours to love when they aren't.

So, you scooch over to the other side of the couch you three share, which isn't too far considering there is almost no wiggle room between the three of you. It still saddens Wanda regardless, but you don't see that it also saddens Nat.

The movie starts and Wanda tries to pull you in again, you consider letting it happen, but today is different. Today you pull away again, but the look of hurt that flashes over Wanda's face hurts you more than any sort of cuddling could ever.

Her expression pains you so much in fact that you get up and go to run off. Nat grabs your hand to try and catch you and see what is going on with you, but you are somehow swifter, so you just pull your arm away from her grasp and walk off.

Nobody saw you run off because your couch is in the back, but Wanda and Natasha exchange each other's glances and immediately jump up to go comfort you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wanda's pov

Y/n just ran off after I tried to cuddle with her, so Natasha and I are currently going to find her.

We are standing in the elevator waiting for it to go to our floor which is also Y/n's.

"Wanda, why did she run off like that?"

I look over at Nat and shrug with wide eyes, "I don't know, she doesn't normally do this. She pulled away earlier before the movie started but I didn't think anything of it. Oh God she didn't want to cuddle today, and I did it anyways I totally made her uncomfortable!"

Natasha cuts me off, "Hey! You're spiraling, clearly Y/n needs us to be there for her, so we have to stay calm. I am sure there is a very good explanation as to why she didn't want to cuddle tonight."

The elevator dings and we rush over to Y/n's room and before Nat bangs on the door, I lean up and hear her sniffles.

Nat hears this too and loudly knocks on the door.

I say, "Y/n? Honey? Can you let us in?"

She lets out a sob, but doesn't answer, and I am concerned for her safety, so I say, "Okay, I'm going to come in now."

I carefully pry open the door and see her sitting on her floor in tears, so I quickly make my way over to her and sit down next to her, "Darling can I hold you?"

She shakes her head, so I sigh and stay seated next to her. Eventually though, she ends up leaning into me and I wrap my arms around her. Once her tears cease, I softly say, "Can you tell us what's going on?"

She looks up at Natasha and gets scared and shakes her head. Natasha tries to ask, "Why did you run off Y/n?"

I know that she means well when she asks this, but the way it comes out is really harsh and Y/n starts crying a little bit again, and just starts shaking her head, so I hush her and lean into her ear to whisper, "Do you not want to say in front of Natasha?"

Y/n thinks about it and softly shakes her head.

I sigh and say, "I can send her out if you'd feel more comfortable."

She stays silent for a moment, and right when I think she is going to start crying again, she nods her head into my shoulder, so I lift my head up and use my powers to silently conversate with Nat in her head.

"She wants you out..."

"What?! Why?"

"Not sure."

"Then why do I have to go?"

"I know you don't get it, but she needs to feel comfortable and if that means that you have to leave then you need to go, please, I love you baby, but we have to get to the bottom of what is going on. I'll let you know after."

Natasha huffs and nods her head without another word, and she leaves the room to presumably go lay in our bed waiting for me to come and give her an update.

Once Nat leaves I go back to tending to Y/n. "Do you want to go on your bed? This floor might hurt your back."

Y/n nods softly and I pick her up and carry her to the bed. When I set her down, she sits up, so I know she is ready to talk. "Alright, what was that whole thing about? You never leave a movie night early, and you definitely don't run off crying... Right?"

The defeated look Y/n sends my way makes me realize this crying is a normal thing for her, "Oh dorogoy, why do you do this? Why don't you come to me or Nat?"

She sighs and says, "I can't go to you because- because... I- I can't tell you."

This hits me kind of hard, I don't want the woman that we love to feel like she can't come to us for anything. "Why do you say that?"

She gets frustrated and just blurts out, "Because Wanda! I-" Her face contorts to surprise at her outburst, and she quickly tries to cover it up, "I said I can't tell you for a reason."

I sigh and secretly read her mind, She is struggling because she thinks Natasha hates her.

All I see when I subtly read her mind are flashes of Nat being a complete and utter bitch to her, and that is all it takes for me to realize that she thinks Nat totally hates her guts.

I nod and say, "Okay, well I will let you figure it out, since you seem to want to be by yourself. We're always here if you need us. I am gonna go to bed I guess, Nat is waiting in our room, are you alright on your own?"

She simply nods and I ask another question, "You'll come to us if you need anything?"

She nods again and we say our goodbyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I almost run to my shared room and immediately start telling Natasha everything. "Natasha, she does like us!"

Nat furrows her eyebrows, because I only use her full name when I am mad at her. So, she looks at me and says, "That's old news, but are you mad at me? And it also doesn't explain why she was crying."

I sit down on the bed and tell her, "Nat, I am not mad at you, you are just dumb."

Her jaw drops a bit, and she says, "I'm not stupid!"

I laugh when her subtle Russian accent comes out, (she's been hanging around Yelena way too much recently, but I like it) and say, "I called you dumb, not the same thing as stupid. Anyways, Y/n was crying because she likes both of us, and she is scared she is going to split us up because you don't like her."

She frowns and retorts, "but- I do like her?"

I glare and say, "I know that, but Y/n thinks you hate her because you are mean to her! You know she is a sensitive soul; you have to try a different approach than what you did with me."

The crease across her forehead never goes away, if anything, it gets bigger, "But I am only flirting with her, you know that is how I flirt."

I laugh and say, "Oh Natty, I knew you liked me because I can read minds, Y/n cannot do that, so she can't tell that you like her if you are a bitch to her, no offense."

She looks down and realization washes over her, so she says, "So what do I do? She barely talks to me anymore, and she definitely won't let me in her room right now."

I sigh and say, "you'll have to figure it out somehow."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

idk pov (guys I can't- I seriously don't know right now)

It has been a few days since the day you locked yourself away from everyone, and you have been avoiding both of them since.

You have locked yourself up in your part of Tony's lab and you just can't bring yourself to face them. You also skipped movie night last night and everyone was trying to see if you are okay, but you just told FRIDAY to let them know you are fine.

You are tinkering with one of your suit pieces when you realize you need a tool that you don't have, but you know Tony has it on his work bench.

So, you walk over to his side of the lab and of course none other than the Natasha Romanoff is sitting at his bench looking for something. You sigh and contemplate waiting for her to leave, but you really need this tool, and you see it right on a shelf above his desk. So, you sigh and make you way quietly over to the desk, but while you reach out to grab it, Nat also reaches up for the same tool and you bump each other's hands.

Within the blink of an eye, three things happen; Nat and you bump hands, you end up hitting the shelf, and one of Tony's weird gadgets fall onto your wrists effectively locking around your wrists and binding you together.

You groan and Nat says, "Shit, I didn't see you."

You shake my head and turn away as much as you can, and you say "It's fine, I should have made my presence known."

She starts looking at the gadget and you take a second to examine it closer and say, "Oh. My. God."

Natasha furrows her eyebrows in confusion and says, "What is it?"

You groan and say, "These are the vibranium tondricuffs Tony has been working on."

She rolls her eyes when you don't explain and says, "And what does that mean? I might be a spy, but I don't know this sciencey shit you do."

You shake your head from the soft thoughts of her perfect lips and say, "Oh- uhh it is just what he calls them, but when I say he is working on them, it means that he hasn't figured them out yet and I don't think he knows how to unlock them."

Nat takes a deep breath and says, "So, you're telling me, that since Tony can't seem to put away his stupid toys, we are locked together for the foreseeable future?"

You sigh and nod your head, dropping it the second you feel heat rising to your face at the thought of all the things you might have to do with Nat. "Who do we tell? Isn't Tony on a mission?"

Nat groans even louder at the realization and says, "I guess we should go tell Wanda, and then she will help make a plan right?"

You bite your lip at the thought of facing her, and Nat sees your hesitation, "Hey, what's up with you lately? You always want to see Wanda."

You make brief eye contact with Nat and quickly look away until she puts her fingers to your chin and pulls you to look at her. She looks deep into your eyes and says, "You've been distant, ever since..."

You sigh and say, "Sorry, I guess I don't like when people see me cry."

Nat furrows her eyebrows and says, "You're a terrible liar."

You look at her with shock and say, "I am not lying!"

She laughs and says, "Oh really?"

When you nod your head she smirks and says, "If you really didn't like when people see you cry, then why did you never shut us out before? You have cried in our arms before, and you have never done something like this."

You sigh and say, "Okay, well- maybe I have changed."

Nat rolls her eyes as you decide to continue your work on your suit, effectively dragging Nat along wherever you go, not that she minds. She keeps pressing even though you clearly want to drop the subject, "You're hiding something."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"No. I'm. Not."

"If you weren't hiding anything then why don't you tell me why you couldn't face me the other night? And why you can barely look at me today?"

This seems to break you, her constant nagging is really pissing you off and you just slam your tools on the work bench and say, "Alright fine! You really want to know why I have been avoiding you?"

She nods her head, "yes please do enlighten me."

You groan and turn to her completely and just blab everything, "Because! You clearly see that I like Wanda and you are mad so you have been really mean, which is understandable, because she is your girlfriend, but what you don't know is that I like both of you and I know you probably hate my guts even more than before, but I really needed to get that off of my chest and-"

Before you can let any more word vomit fall out of your mouth Natasha's lips are on yours in an instant. They shut you up really well.

Your eyes widen and you push her away as much as you can, given the fact that you're still handcuffed together.

"Nat what are you doing?!"

She looks at you, "Is that not what you wanted this whole time?"

"Well, yes, but what about Wanda?"

She realizes that you don't know that she and Wanda knew, "Oh! Right! Wanda knows you like her. And I knew I just didn't know how to flirt. I am apparently a really shitty flirt when I am being genuine. I can fake flirt, but when I have a real crush, I turn into an asshole. It worked for Wands, but I realized it didn't necessarily work for you huh?"

You shake your head with wide eyes. Still trying to wrap your mind around the fact that both of your crushes like you back. Before you can fall deeper into your thoughts, Nat asks, "Wanna continue what we were doing?"

All you can do is nod, but her lips are immediately locked on your own. The feeling burns but it burns so so good. You two continue to swap spit until you hear someone speak, "Am I interrupting something ladies?"

You both pull away and look to see Wanda standing in the doorway. You freeze, still unsure if she is okay with you kissing her girlfriend, and she starts to step towards the two of you.

Once she gets up really close to you, she gives you a soft look and walks by you to kiss Nat pulling away to say, "Hi baby."

They exchange some small talk, and you are really uncomfortable because you have no idea what to do. They are just acting like you're not there and that you and Nat weren't just kissing.

Then, they both turn to you and Wanda leans closer to you, "Tell me Natasha, was it your intention to keep this sweet thing from me?"

Your eyes widen as Nat shakes her head aggressively letting out a soft 'no'.

Who knew Natasha was a bottom... they even acted like she was the top around me. Impressive.

Wanda lifts your chin a bit to look at her and she smirks, "What is going on in that pretty little head of yours, y/n/n?"

You snap out of it and whine a bit, and Wanda smiles and says, "Do you want a kiss too?"

You nod your head.

"Words sweet one."

"Y-yes please."

She smiles and looks back at Natasha briefly saying, "This one has good manners. She knows her place well. We've known her for all this time and yet we're just finding this out. Oh, we're going to have so much fun with her Natty."

Nat nods her head, and Wanda turns back to you to say, "Now... about that kiss."

She leans in, and you meet her halfway to interlock her delicate lips together with yours. It is likes soft pillows meeting sparkling fireworks.

You get lost in the kiss and try to push a little more for a deeper one, but Wanda pulls away with a soft smirk. As much as you want to pout for losing contact with her, all you can do is send a dopey smile her way.

Wanda exchanges looks with Natasha and they both look back at you. Nat speaks first, "So, now that we have that out of the way, Wands and I were wondering if you wanted to be our girlfriend?"

Your eyes widen and Wanda speaks up a bit, "Don't feel pressured to give us an answer right now. We understand it's new, and you might be feeling overwhelmed, we just want to put the offer on the table."

Then she leans closer to you and speaks in a low tone, "Although we don't like to be kept waiting."

Her silky voice makes you blush a bit, but you clear your throat and say, "Date both of you? At the same time?"

They both nod their heads and you say, "Yes! A thousand times yes!"

They both smile as you kiss each of them multiple times.

Natasha sighs and says, "Alright, what do you want to do as our official girlfriend now?"

You smile and say, "As much as I would love to go watch movies to make up for the last two movie nights that I missed, I really would like to get this thing off."

You hold up both Natasha's and your connected arms up to show Wanda the tondricuffs.

Wanda's eyebrows raise, she's probably wondering what happened to get that locked onto you. Natasha sighs in defeat and says, "Oh, right... that." You softly grab Nat's hand.

Wanda is about to ask questions, but you cut in and say, "Ask questions later, find Tony now. Please."

Safe to say there was a lot to discuss, but it will all work out now that you have your girls.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I'm so terribly sorry for how long this took me to write... I genuinely thought it would be quick and easy, but college is kicking my ass, and I really didn't want to leave you with nothing. So, it's a little shitty, but it's something!

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Taglist

@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346 @moistblobfish @justarandomreaderxoxo @lovelyy-moonlight @symp4nat @ale-estrabao @mrsrushman @kkreader78o @cheekysnake

#fanfic #avengers #fanfiction #black widow #natasha x reader #mcu #marvel #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda x natasha #wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff x reader

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oukabarsburgblr · 4 months ago

Text

drabble...

"Is it okay if I talk to Daisuke-senpai for a while?"

The trio, who had been lounging in the school's courtyard, Haru, Daisuke and (m/n), adorned in their school blazers under the dimming sun, skies painted with streaks of orange.

All three noticed the girl, who barely reached Daisuke's chest level, turned to her when she suddenly approached them from behind and spoke with a question.

Daisuke, whose phone in his hand, lowered it and turned to fully face the girl. He noticed that she wasn't wearing the standard Keio Shiki's female school uniform. Instead of a forest green, she was adorned with navy blue.

"Sure. What do you need me for?" He politely replied. Haru and (m/n) peeking out from behind, interested in the conversation.

The girl glanced at the two behind the ravenette, as she nervously rubbed her hands together, her heavy school bag weighing on her side. Her short brown hair swinging in the cool breeze.

"I need to talk to you, privately. Alone please."

Immediately there was a mood shift. Daisuke could feel a sense of blankness in his mind as Haru and (m/n) both gasped at the implication. The blonde immediately pulled (m/n) away who was staring at Daisuke to hide behind one of the pillars for eavesdropping purposes.

"H-Hey-!" Daisuke who was about to call out to the other two was interrupted when his blazer was grabbed. The small girl, who Daisuke's face analysed properly, finally noticed the pink hue on her freckled cheeks.

"I-It's okay..." The girl realised what she was doing and released her grip, stammering in her apologies. "S-Sorry! I m-mean if you're okay with it...?" Daisuke, who no longer could see the (h/c) sighed and turned to face the young girl with a polite smile.

"If it doesn't take too long." The girl nodded enthusiastically before reaching into her bookbag, colourful books and stationeries peeking out from the opened zipper.

"Holy shit, bro that's a fucking kid." Haru whispered, crouching down and using his green blazer as cover between the bushes. (m/n) who was frowning, was leaning on Haru's back, in between the white pillar and the shrubbery. "She looks...young. Isn't that our old school uniform?"

Haru zeroed in on the logo that was on her left breast pocket. Curse his shitty eyesight and he had to stifle a laughter when he saw the familliar logo. "Man oh man. That kid's a middle schooler." "Same branch?" "SAME BRANCH? BRO HOW IS DAISUKE ATTRACTING CHILDREN-"

(m/n) slammed his palm, covering Haru's mouth who was already hunching over in laughter. The (h/c) wanted to laugh as well, but there was a streak of disarray in his heart as he continued to observe the two, barely slipping in on their conversation.

"Can I ask who are you?" Daisuke pointed out, when he saw the girl pulling out a pink letter. Nervousness pulling at his heartstrings over what the fuck is going on. "My name? You don't know me." "Uhuh, so can I...?" When she spoke, he couldn't hear her properly, the sound of the wind rustling the trees overlapping her voice.

He could feel frustration edging in his head when the girl bowed to him, holding out the pink, heart-pinned letter. Fuck, he was getting a confession.

"I like you, senpai!" Daisuke wasn't able to stop her from doing so, as he rubbed his eyes with his fingers. He didn't even know the kid, yet he was standing here in the middle of the courtyard under the cherry blossom trees to hear her pour her heart out to him.

The girl's face was red, albeit facing the ground, her fingers shaking lightly as she continued her confession. "I've liked you for almost a year now. I'm aware that you don't know me as much. But I couldn't put my feelings aside. I wanted to tell you how much I like you-" "Okay, that's enough."

"No! I liked you for so long. I want to tell you-!" "Stop." When she looked up, her heart dropped, breaking into pieces on the gravel ground. There was a stern look on the ravenette's face, his lips pursing and his eyebrows furrowed that could make any admirer hesitate in their next step.

"What school do you go to?" He questioned firmly. The girl was confused but answered. "Your old one...Keio Shiki Middle School." "And what year?" "I'm in my second year."

"Okay." Daisuke sighed, rubbing his palm into his face. "So you're around 13 to 14. That's just-" He stopped himself before he accidentally spoke something harsh but continued after taking a deep breath.

"I'm in my third year, High School." He emphasized. "In 10 months, I'm turning 18, an almost legal adult. I'm too old for you." "But-!" "No. You shouldn't be liking, ESPECIALLY- pursuing someone who's way out of your age. When you're older? Maybe, but now no."

The girl was exasperated, tears brimming in the corner of her eyes and she looked like she was about to burst when Daisuke kneeled, assuring her it was okay.

"I know, I understand the feeling of liking someone, but this is wrong, okay? This will never happen." "But I will grow older eventually! Even if you graduate, I'll still like you, Daisuke-senpai-!" Her shoulders were firmly grabbed by Daisuke, whose eyes looked up to her glossy ones.

"You shouldn't and you won't. You're still young. There's so many opportunities out there so don't place your bet on a broken ship." He pointed to himself. "I...I already have someone in mind."

He heard gasps coming from behind but he ignored it, watching the droplet of tears sliding down the girl's cheek. "...But that someone doesn't want a relationship right now. And it's okay. Not everything goes well."

She was already sobbing, covering her face with her hands, the pink letter crumpled in her grip. "But but...I don't- hic- want anyone else..." "I know, I know..." He looked behind, gazing at the delicate scenery before locking eyes with someone, standing between the shrubbery, (e/c) furrowed in frustration.

"...But we have to live, move on. Our lives won't end with just one person. Make it your own." He patted her shoulder. "You'll find another."

The girl continued to cry into her hands, Daisuke hopelessly attempting to cease her sobs while Haru was biting his fingernails at the whole situation.

"I couldn't hear that last part- fuck. Did you hear what he said, (m/n)?" Haru expected a response from the (h/c) but just noticed that there's no longer someone leaning on him. He turned around to see his friend standing instead, no longer concealed in the shrubbery. "I...couldn't hear it as well..."

"What the fuck?" He pulled (m/n) down quickly. "The girl's going to see us!" Haru hissed at the quiet (h/c) who only nodded in response. The two continued to watch the scenario, as the girl bowed again in thanks and apologies before running off to the gates. Daisuke only stared at her dimming figure as he groaned to himself, hoping that no headaches comes to haunt him at night.

"This is like the fifth confession this week?" "...Valentine's is coming up next week." Haru made a noise of realisation as he jabbed the (h/c) in his side. "You think I'm going to get any chocolates this year?" "Not with that attitude, you're not." Haru scowled as he pulled at (m/n)'s hair as the latter began to yell at him, pulling at his collar.

The two scuffled, leaves falling out of the bush before (m/n) yelped, the back of his shirt being yanked as he was forced to stand up. "Sousuke..." The (h/c) mumbled as the redhead quirked an eyebrow as to why are these two were hiding and fighting in a fucking bush.

"There you are!" Sousuke, who was still holding (m/n) up like a kitten, kicked Haru telling him to stand up while Daisuke ran over to them, huffing and wiping his face. "Next time, don't just leave okay!" He yelled at the blonde.

Haru raised his hands up in defense. "I didn't want to disturb you." Daisuke pulled the (h/c) to him as he brushed off all the stickes and leaves sticking to his blazer. Sousuke looked to Haru for answers who briefly explained what had happened.

"...so we're friends with a future predator?" "I NEVER APPROACHED OR EVEN FUCKING LIKED HER OKAY???" Daisuke jabbed a finger into Sousuke's chest who was smirking at the ravenette. (m/n) pulled Haru's arm to run away from the two, their steps quick to run past the school gates.

The trio earlier had been waiting for Sousuke to finish up some work, until Daisuke suddenly got a confession and as so. The two noticed the pair missing as they ran after them. Sousuke pulling Haru's shirt who screeched when he was forcefully used as a braking pad.

"I rejected her okay?" Daisuke whispered to (m/n), who refused to look at him. "We saw." The (h/c) stated as he continued to walk his way, pulling Sousuke with him as he clinged to the redhead for the rest of the evening, Daisuke crying in silence and Haru just wondering again if he could get any chocolates for Valentines this year.

[END SCENE]

Taglist:

@tehyunnie @rainnyydaysworld @webwanderer @a-short-ass-disappointment @chikai-k @mello-life25 @miyuuuki @simpsations @sugar-p0p @kiiyoooo @helloanime @garlicforthewin @jaxyy219

#oukabarsburg #bottom male reader #male reader #x male reader #aito sousuke #daisuke yuichi #oc x male reader #oc x reader #male oc

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maythearo · 1 year ago

Text

" Welcome back to Night Raven College's 'Ghostly Gossip'! The school's unofficial main online source for the latest news, articles and trending topics circulating around campus! "

" attention attention! we interrupt this broadcast to inform all readers that the ghostly gossip team have at last caught the student responsible for all the (unauthorized) written remarks from previous entries! We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience! (although admittedly, he does not...) "

Navigation:

R. Rosehearts ▪︎ T. Clover ▪︎ C. Diamond ▪︎ A. Trappola ▪︎ D. Spade ▪︎ L. Kingscholar ▪︎ R. Bucchi ▪︎ J. Howl ▪︎ A. Ashengrotto ▪︎ J. Leech ▪︎ F. Leech ▪︎ K. Al Asim ▪︎ J. Viper ▪︎ V. Schoenheit ▪︎ R. Hunt ▪︎ E. Felmier ▪︎ I. Shroud ▪︎ O. Shroud ▪︎ M. Draconia ▪︎ L. Vanrouge ▪︎ S. Zigvolt ▪︎ Silver

Design notes:

This took way longer to post than I expected mainly because of imposter syndrome and constantly thinking I could do more for his entry but, I'll keep this as Ace's main style anyway. It's pretty simple compared to previous designs, but to be fair, devil Ace's personality and shenanigans would stand out enough to compensate for that matter LOL

As I said on Deuce's post, I wanted to connect their designs in some aspects, so yeah! Complementary color pallettes! That's why they both have few shades that stand out of their main monochrome colors, Deuce is blues and greens, while Ace stays around red and oranges!

Fashion-wise now, I initially pictured him pulling a lot more references from 80s men fashion, but ig by the end I accidentally strayed away from that and somehow incorporated a more "modern" influence to it? Man I'm very bad at describing the creative process and vibes of my designs but what else is new 😭😭 ANYWAYS, off topic but I should mention that, as you can see I'll throw in a high heel in any characters that give me the opportunity to do so, this one especially, I had Cleo's "dawn of the dance" heels in the back of my mind while designing, ( I forgot to include in the image above again 😔) which fun fact, was my first Monster High doll I got as a kid, so-!!! That's a shoe style that I'm very fond of KWDNWKSNSK

LORE DUMP TIME, ok so given each characters unique scare-itage, the way the cast interact with each other and build relationships could somehow differ from how they interact in og twisted wonderland! For example, since MH!Ace is THE devil from THE bible (/ref) he probably shares a common background, or have met Vil and Idia before they enrolled in MH!NRC together! That's such a funny thing to think about for me. Who would have thought they'd ever be a trio of great childhood friends?

#.the ghostly gossip #twst #my art #twisted wonderland #twst fanart #monster high #ace trappola #twst au #heartslabyul

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naffeclipse · 2 months ago

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Charm Brought It Back

Reader x Witches!Sun, Moon, & Eclipse

Commission Info

I am so excited to present this Hocus Pocus inspired AU requested by the lovely @jackofallrabbits! The boys star as the witchy brothers who return once a fated reader lights the starry candle. They simply must show their gratitude! And what better day to post such a spooky and fun fic than on Friday the 13th?!

Content Warning: Suggestive themes, heavy kissing, and heavy touching.

———

You turn the key and cut the engine of your car. With a flick, you turn off the headlights. The beginning of a sunset swoops down onto your ill-adjusted vision. The horizon is drenched in purples and oranges as shadows begin to crawl off of trees and their yellowed leaves. It will take a minute or two for your sight to adapt, but you have tilted and revolved the structure waiting just at the edge of the forest within your mind’s eyes for days now. It’s beyond the dirt road you’ve pulled onto the shoulder of.

Blinking slowly, you find the house’s dark silhouette through the boughs of clustered trees, and you sigh at the beauty of its preserved history.

The building is an artifact dating back roughly to the 1630s. A post-medieval English-style home, it contains two stories with an overhanging jetty and stunning clapboard siding that has survived a little under four centuries of existence. Your eyes catch on the windows and your heart sings at the sight. Diamond-paned casement. And there, decorative pendants of celestial bodies, including iron-casted suns, moons, and overlapping symbols of the two. The steeply pitched roof is common for the era and is more renowned in its descendant the saltbox form, but this style boosts its spooky aura.

The Puritan colonists were the ones responsible for importing the style to America as they landed here on the eastern coast.

It’s no stretch of the imagination to think of witches and execution trials while gazing over the beautiful home. You’re particularly intrigued by the history of the Salem witch trials, and as a historian, you couldn’t deny yourself the chance to enter the building and feed the gnawing need to stand within a piece of history.

Stepping out of your car, a gust of wind carrying the bitter edge of autumn cuts through your brown sweater. You shiver and shut the door as quietly as you can manage. This is hallowed ground. This will supply your ever inquisitive mind which is always looking to the past with a curiosity most insatiable.

You face the home. A footpath lightly serpentines between the trees. Hooligans with destructive tendencies and teenagers on dares will venture here for a spooky, fun time, but are usually caught by the police because the building sits on private property. You asked for permission from the owner of the hundreds of acres of forest land that includes the so-called “Witch House” if you might enter the premises. Given your credentials, you were certain the owner would trust you with exploring the home.

Much to your relief, the owner agreed.

You look up, arms clutching your knitted sleeves to fight the chill of an October breeze, in awe and reverence.

From your pocket, you slip out a wrought-iron key with the symbol of the moon overlapping the sun to form a black eclipse and marvel again at the intricacy of ancient beauty. Your fingertips grow chilled in the late hour. The sun shifts from orange to dark, bleeding red like blood from a heart spilled across the horizon. You walk towards the home.

Perhaps you should have arrived sooner. You were caught in another historical journal depicting the specific timeframe of when this home would have been occupied by its original inhabitants.

The rumors even now speak of curses and cursed artifacts within the building. Some of it is true—you have confirmed with your own scholarly sources. The original owners were a trio of brothers. They were accused of witchcraft and hanged for the crimes. That much is historically documented and verified.

What is fantasy is the tale of the brothers casting a curse with their dying breaths, declaring they would one day return if a virgin lit a starry candle on the anniversary of their executions.

Superstition. Most likely, the fear of the townspeople transcended to their children, and their children, down and down until it became a tale to spin on Halloween night around these parts.

The door is black as you approach it. A stray branch catches on your sweater, pulling on a thread, and you yank yourself free and silently mourn the roughen fabric before returning your attention to what really matters. You must be careful. This entire place is iconic and in need of preservation.

You slip the key into the lock hole and turn it with a thick, heavy click before the black wood door groans and slides inwards as if inviting you into its sphere. You take a breath. Your boots cross the threshold and you enter the home.

As is typical of some homes built in the early seventeenth century, an open hall greets you. In the far back is the fireplace with a cauldron still sitting upon an ashy bed. An original wood-carve table and chairs are set to one side as a staircase climbs up into the darkness of the second level. What little red light leaks inside is narrowed and cut up into diamonds by the panes. To one wall, shelves contain dusty and forgotten cooking utensils, once glimmery copper pots, and dinner dishes with designs considered much too gawky in the Puritan era but it causes you to softly gasp.

Your hand covers your mouth as you gaze around you, overwhelmed with the beautiful intricacies of metallic chandeliers holding half-burned tallow candles, and to the other wall lies a bookshelf covered in cobwebs as if the spiders refuse to let anyone examine such precious reads. Your fingers already itch to gently pry out one manuscript and gaze at the original script of whoever wrote it.

But the light—it’s far too dark now. The red has given way to blue and pale indigo. You squint. You reach into your other pocket for a lighter and flick it on. The tiny flame spouts a delicate light. Never would you dare admit this out loud to a living soul, but you so desperately wish to see the home in its authentic state, lit only by the technology the brothers had at the time: fire.

There are thick, yellowed candles lying on the table and clustered together on the narrow window sills. You have no hope of reaching the metal chandeliers but you do spy a candelabra positioned near the bookshelf on a small end table. You light it first with a careful touch of your lighter flame. The wick catches, even after all of these years. You smile softly, your heart warm within your chest as you bask in the essence of this beautiful place.

A few more candles should suffice.

You slip to the table to light the thick and tall candles. The flames bloom and warm the space in rich light, casting thick shadows from support beams. You almost set your lighter away when you spy one last candle set upon a golden candle holder. The fashioned metal twists and twines with elaborate engravings of shooting stars and slices of sun rays were placed in the corner of the room almost out of sight. The curiosity within you urges you to take a step, then another, and another. You stand in front of the almost forgotten candle.

The tallow is black as midnight. Strange. How did they color this? Embedded within the darkness are speckles of white, splattering the candle like an array of stars. Your eyes stray in search of constellations before shaking your head.

It’s true. There is a starry candle. Perhaps the brothers did dabble in the occult, playing with cards and fortune telling, and being punished with death for their interest in unholy magic.

The wick is dark and untouched as if it were never lit before. You bring the lighter flame closer. Superstition might worry another, but you concern yourself with logic and reason—explanations of humanity rather than inexplicable forces beyond comprehension.

Something stirs from a nearby corner shelf. Two long ears twitch. You catch a glimpse of a rabbit with creamy white fur just before it leaps off of the shelf and directly onto your arm. You yelp. Nearly dropping the lighter, you scramble back as the rabbit hits the floor, collects itself, and sits on its haunches.

Green eyes glare up at you. The rabbit, small and bunny-like, stays firmly between you and the starry candle.

You stand with your chest heaving and your lungs scraping out air, almost burning your thumb on the lighter flame before turning around yourself. Where did the woodland creature come from? Did it crawl its way inside like a rat and become trapped within the colonial home? The shot of adrenaline still flowing through your veins leaves your hands shaking.

The rabbit is still watching you with uncanny eyes. Prey animals so rarely stare back at bigger, larger threats. Perhaps it’s a pet. A runaway pet that somehow ended up here, of all places.

You slowly offer out your hand, keeping the lighter away in your other, as you take a step towards it.

It thumps a foot once, as if in warning, then bounds away. You watch it disappear into the house, still reeling from the fright it gave you.

If Michael was here, he would have laughed and told you to leave with him, now. He never wanted you to go here, especially alone, but you shake such ominous warnings away. He said curiosity killed the cat. You disagreed. This house is a part of history, not a curse. Witches are mere stories, conjured out of historical unrest and the longing to blame bad luck and tragedies upon an individual or three.

There’s always an explanation for fear superstition or mistrust. It’s far more sad than it is spooky.

You shake your head, smooth out the creases in your sweater, and face the starry candle again. The lighter flame flickers softly as you draw near it.

It is the anniversary of the brothers’ executions. You remember now as the shadows from other candles drape over you like a veil. You are also a virgin.

You laugh to yourself, covering your mouth as you do so. Look at you! You’re getting so worked up because a rabbit jumped at you.

It’s only hocus-pocus.

You tilt the lighter until it engulfs the wick. The flame catches, and you at last snap the lighter shut and return it to your pocket. Your eyes squint slightly at the candle. The wick snaps and bursts into sparks. The flame is not yellow or orange or even blue—it’s pure white like a comet streaking across the sky.

A crack of thunder splits the night sky with a bellow so monstrous, you feel like a child again, fearing a storm. You drop low to the ground, shielding your head as if the very world was going to fall upon you. A spark cracks in the fireplace, conjured out of ash underneath the cauldron before it burns hot and bright. The cauldron immediately begins roiling and bubbling with water. Laughter, great and terrible, and filled with the most jester-like joy sweeps over the room.

The pulse in your ears drowns at any sense but the need to hide. You scramble into the corner, tucking yourself behind the stand of the starry candle and hunker down. Holding your breath, you grab a fistful of your sweater while clutching your chest, and watch the door to the almost 400-year-old house fly open.

Three figures stride inside, looking about the place with wide eyes and disk-like heads framed in jutting adornments not unlike sun rays or shrouded in a heavy, dark blue hood.

“Brothers! We’re home!” The first one, tall and dark with deep red hues to his form, accent in sharp orange sun rays and an eclipse upon his face, turns to face his brother with bright, cat-like yellow eyes. “Isn’t it glorious?”

Another figure steps forward, yellow and off-white. Pale eyes beam. His head is crowned in bright sun rays as well. His spindly fingers twindle together in exuberant energy while he glances about the room eagerly. “Oh, yes, yes! More than anything! It’s as if we weren’t gone for more than a day—though the dust and cobwebs beg to differ.”

He draws a claw—you suck in a sharp breath—along the table’s edge and rubs his taloned fingertips together in disappointment.

“We must get to cleaning at once.”

“No,” the last figure fixes his hood with silvery digits. Golden jewels hang down the back of his unusual skull, the last and most prominent adornment a thick, golden star pendant. His eyes cast around the room, scarlet, and searching. “We must thank the little mouse who lit the candle.”

He flashes sharp teeth within his wide mouth, shaping it into a hungry grin. You gulp.

“Where are our manners?” The red and dark one twists back to the room with a flourish of his arms. His yellow gaze sweeps over the shelves and floors with a blade-like glint. “Of course, we must thank one so lovely.”

A dark cape drapes about his person. Underneath, a white flowing shirt hangs loosely to his lithe and slender figure, causing you to balk upon staring at such an exposed chest. The other two are no different, wearing similar shirts and dark trousers, but the hooded one bears a thick, longer cape while the sunny figure shares a cape similar to the first.

The yellow one lifts his wrists and frowns at the red ribbons tied around them. Golden bells jingle softly in an ominous chord.

“How terrible a reminder of our current impermanence,” he growls low in his throat, all cheerfulness lost and causing you to squeeze your ribs in fear.

“Patience, Sun,” the red one speaks, though he too casts a narrowed glance to the black ribbons and golden bells adorning his wrists. “We will affix ourselves back to this world in due time.”

“Eclipse, what a delicious creature I smell.” The hooded figure steps deeper into the home. Blue claws scratch at equally blue ribbons knotted to his hand bones but his attention is terrifyingly fixed on the candle stand just above your hiding spot.

You shrink further into the corner.

“Yes, Moon? And how lovely?” Eclipse, you assume, asks. His yellow eyes flash.

“As lovely as the stars,” Moon answers.

You watch claws curl around the wooden side of the candle stand, scratching deeply into the wood before a half-moon face emerges from behind, teeth set like a predator’s upon the sight of a wounded animal. Your heart flutters like a bird with a broken wing.

“Hello, little mouse. Won’t you come and play with us?”

You scream as he leaps behind the candle stand, takes you by the arms, and pulls you to your feet. You struggle to free yourself, crying out as he grabs hold of your wrists and fixes you firmly in place.

“My, how sweet,” he purrs in a dangerously low voice that rolls in the back of his throat. “You are the darling virgin who lit the candle, no?”

“Let me go!” You thrash but Moon grins in delight, as if you’re simply too precious.

“You deserve proper thanks,” He lowers one hand, forcing you to submit with slightly bent knees. “Here is my gratitude, little mouse.”

You freeze as he brings your hand towards his mouth, and a hundred, horrifying visions of him biting your fingers off or sinking his teeth in your palm send your blood into a frozen sludge of fear.

The witch, however, presses a kiss to the center of your palm. The softness catches the gears in your mind and jerks them to a halt.

“Thank you for allowing us to return once more,” he rasps. His scarlet eyes find yours between the space of your thumb and forefinger, and a strange stirring takes hold of your middle.

“This isn’t real,” you breathe. Dizziness begins to take hold.

This must be a dream, a thought gone wild, or inhaled bacteria triggering hallucinations.

Moon’s grin widens. He lowers your hand, loosening his hold for one precious moment. You rip your hands free of his grasp. A low growl escapes him but you’ve already slipped away, your eyes upon the door and spilling with the need to rush out into the night, away from the impossibilities standing before you—

Arms snatch your waist and lift your feet from the ground. You gasp.

Held in the air, you squirm before a hot breath dusts the shoulder of your sweater. You fall still, your throat bobbing as a mouth presses into the corner of your neck and lays a kiss on the sensitive spot. Gooseflesh prickles up and down your body.

“I assure you, I’m very real, little mouse,” Moon purrs. His hands squeeze your hips once. “And as nice as this… attire is, I would dress you in blues and silvers. You would look proper and powerful, like my brothers and I.”

A squeak escapes you. You shrink against him, caught in his embrace.

“Brothers?” The word rattles out of your throat.

“This is our home,” Moon whispers. “And you are our most honored guest.”

You manage to pry off his hands from your waist. With a sinister chuckle, the blue and silver hands release you. Without looking back, you run, ignoring the twinge in your stomach that whispers it was too easy to get away.

You hardly get a few steps before the sunny one—Sun—steps into your path. He catches you in his arms and spins you in a waltz at breakneck speed, your feet never touching the ground, before stopping without warning as he dips you low. He looms above you, his smile filled with sharp teeth.

“Let me get an eyeful. Oh, yes, you look good enough to eat,” he simpers. His hand splays along the small of your back and you gawk up at him, still trying to regain your balance after the sickness-inducing whirl. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you.”

“I just want to leave,” you whimper. “Please, don’t hurt me.”

“Hurt you? Sunshine,” he laughs, and it echoes with all of his heart—do once-hanged witches have a heart? There is no historical journey to give context to this very moment, you fear.

He lowers his sultry gaze to you. “I wish to only thank you. And I intend to.”

He pulls you back to your feet. You’re still clasped in his embrace like lovers on a ballroom floor. His hand hooks tight to your hip, and his other catches the side of your face. Heat spreads through the marrow of your bones.

On the tabletop beside you, something white moves across the plane of its surface, hunkering behind the thick stack of candles still burning.

His head lowers to your neck. You stiffen as he tilts your head away, opening you to his parting teeth. A tongue, dark and sinuous, flicks out of his maw. A gasp slips from your lips at the wet lick up the column of your throat. Eyelids fluttering, you start to sag as weakness fills your knees. He drags his tongue higher to taste your jawline and finishes at your cheek with a swipe for good measure.

Your hands find him and clutch tightly to his slender arms. He presses his lips to your ear and with a misty warmth, whispers.

“Thank you for—Gah!”

The white rabbit leaps up from the table, squirming directly between you and his chest, breaking you apart. Instinctively, you jump away just as Sun snarls. The heart-wrenching sound shakes your entire frame as he snatches the rabbit by the scruff before it can scramble back from his wretched claws.

“I’ll boil you alive!” he thunders. He steps towards the cauldron, back where Moon leans against the wall, watching the spectacle with an amusing twitch of his grinning maw. Behind you, Eclipse stands at the door like a sentinel, his eyes still hungry and even furious as he follows his brother’s movement to the cauldron.

Sun dangles the rabbit, now struggling and kicking but unable to find purchase against the witch’s hold, above the boiling water of the caldron.

“No!” you cry.

Sun’s eyes widen. He turns back to you just as you close the distance and scoop the rabbit in your arms. His claws, pale-boned and wickedly curved, clench around emptiness. Without thought, you turn and run again though there is little hope as you come to the door. Your boots stamp against the wooden floorboards.

The rabbit in your embrace turns its face up to you and mutters in a woman’s voice, “You have no idea what you’ve just done.”

You gawk, stunned before hands catch you by the shoulders. You’re brought to a dead halt. The rabbit leaps from your arms, drops to the floor, and races away into a shadowy corner of the room with only one glimpse of its fluffy tail before you’re left alone.

You twist and face the eldest witch’s attention. Eclipse. His yellow eyes go up and down your body, and you watch in muted shock as two additional arms emerge from the shadows of his cap. He forces you backward, one step after the other until your back is pinned against a dusty wall.

You stare into his eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly. Your pulse pounds in your eardrums.

“I don’t believe this is happening,” you utter.

The witch tilts his head with a wicked grin.

“We’ll make you a believer yet.” He promises, and his deep cords vibrate through your form. “My dear, we simply must thank you for all that you’ve done for us.”

His claws slip over your collarbones. Your breath quickens, a stirring you cannot name unfolding deep within your middle. His extra set of hands fall to your hips and begin caressing the bones. Daintily, carefully, his warm fingertips slip just underneath the hem of your sweater, touching your bare flesh. A shiver runs down your entire body, leaving you to squirm.

“Be a good little comet,” he says softly, “Let me pour my gratitude all over you.”

“I didn’t—I didn’t know it was true,” you stare into his face, marked with a red crescent over a dark shadow, and his eyes pierce into the very nature of your being. “You’re back.”

“Because of you,” he rumbles softly in his chest. His grin pulls higher at the corners.

His claws slip over the nap of your neck and card gently into the small, sensitive hairs at the bottom of your skull. You breathe in. His eyes brighten in pleasure before he slips his sharp but controlled talons over the shells of your ears and follows the arch of your cheekbone. His gaze drops to your lips. Your heart thumps and thumps against your sternum so powerfully, you fear he may hear it.

His lips pull over his razor-sharp teeth and you stop breathing.

His other set of hands begins working up the sides of your torso. He rubs slowly and gently, but you squirm despite this. He touches you far too intimately when you have never experienced such affections before. A mewl escapes your lips. You wriggle as he refuses to relent.

In answer, his upper hands lower and capture your hands together in one, and pin them above your head to hold you in place. He coos, chastising. A great roil starts in your stomach and expands upwards until your face becomes pink and flushed.

“Hold still, little comet,” he chuckles, and you whimper. “I’m not finished with showering you in all my adoration.”

“Eclipse,” your breath is harsh and hot.

“It is good to hear my name upon such lovely lips,” his voice lowers, husky and scorching. “I knew a virgin would light the candle. I swore it to my brothers as they set us on the gallows and draped nooses around our necks. You are our light, our savior. How could I ever thank you?”

In his words, his burning stare that singes with sincerity, it clicks into place. All at once, you believe what you are seeing with your own two eyes.

It’s true. He’s back. He and his brothers have returned with magic.

“I have questions,” you say hesitantly in your demureness, “I want answers.”

“Of course,” Eclipse agrees easily. “But first…”

A dark claw brushes your hair back from your face. The flutter in your heart can’t seem to hold still. Eclipse’s grin widens and his eyes soften.

“You have freckles like constellations,” he murmurs in the manner of one gazing at the night sky or one studying an ornate painting.

Before you can shape words to reply, to say anything that might free you from his grasp, his mouth is upon yours. A sound softly catches in the back of your throat. You fall still under his caressing hands still moving below your sweater. He traces the row of your ribs. You have just enough mind to wonder if he feels your skin prickle in your sensitivity. His other hand clasps your wrists tighter. You gasp against his teeth.

He pulls gently, hungrily, taking you as if a bite of honeycomb. You become melted honey, easily malleable between his teeth and then molded by his mouth. His tongue invades you. You moan softly at the claim he lays upon you until you become weak in the knees and almost fall. His kiss seals your fate.

He releases you from his maw. You sink slightly, and his arms fall out from under your sweater to properly catch you. He lowers your wrists, returns your hands, and brushes your hair once more from your face.

A chuckle emits from his lips, and you burn.

“You’ll stay with us, won’t you?” he asks, but he waits for no answer as he scoops you into his arms. Feet dangling, you have no choice but to cling to his shoulders and endure his brothers’ attention as he twists around and faces them.

The rabbit’s right. You are in trouble. Michael warned you. He said curiosity killed the cat.

But charm brought it back.

#naff's writing commissions #witches and rabbits and candles oh my #if michael was there he would be so mad at you for lighting the candle smh #hocus pocus au my beloved #witch!eclipse #witch!sun #witch!moon #charm brought it back #naff writing

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