#Enchantment fic:
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Pilot episode | chapter 1
ᥲsᥱᥒᥲ іs іᥒ 𝖿᥆r ᥲ sᥙr⍴rіsᥱ ᥕһᥱᥒ ᥲ ᥴһіᥣძ kᥒ᥆ᥴks ᥆ᥒ һᥱr ძ᥆᥆r ᥴᥣᥲіmіᥒg 𝗍᥆ ᑲᥱ һᥱrs.
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Fairytale world
Prince Charming (Tony) rode on his horse along the stretch of the land towards a forest. In the forest, he meets seven dwarves gathered around a glass coffin. "You're to late." Wong says. He looks at Pepper in the coffin. Her skin pale and her chest unmoving. "No. No! Open it." He ordered. "I'm sorry, she's gone." Strange said mornfully. "At least let me say goodbye." Tony begged.
All seven men remove the glass top. Tony leans down and kisses her lips and a wave of magic pulses throughout the kingdom. No one notices except the birds that leave the branches they perched on. Pepper wakes up with a gasp. "You... You found me." She said breathlessly. "Did you ever doubt I would?" Tony asked her. "Truthfully, the glass coffin gave me pause." She joked.
"Well, you never have to worry. I will always find you." He assured. "Do you promise?" She asked. "I do." Tony says at their wedding. "And do you, Pepper Potts, promise to take this man to be your husband, and love him for all eternity?' The priest asked. " I do she says. " I now pronounce you husband and wife." The priest says. Everyone applauds and cheers. Pepper and Tony lean to kiss each other when the ballroom doors swing open by a magical force. "Sorry I'm late." The red head stated.
She goes to approach the newlyweds and the guards try to stop her. She flings them away with magic. "It's the Queen. Run!" Someone in the crowd yells. "She's not the queen anymore. She's nothing more than a evil witch." Pepper said grabbed her husbands sword pointing it at her.
"No, no, no. Don't stoop to her level. There's no need." He consoles. Tony takes his sword from her. "You're wasting your time. You've already lost. And I will not let you ruin this wedding." Tony said. "Oh, I haven't come here to ruin anything. On the contrary, dear, I've come to offer you a gift." Natasha smiles. "We want nothing from you." Pepper says in anger.
"But you shall have it! My gift to you is this happy, happy day. But tomorrow my real work begins. You've made your vows, now I make mine. Soon everything you love, everything all of you love, will be taken from you. Forever. And out of your suffering, will rise my victory. I shall destroy your happiness if it is the last thing I do." Natasha turns around after her speech and heads for the door.
"Hey!" Tony calls after her. Natasha turns and he launched his sword at her. She disappears in a puff of black smoke letting the sword crash on the ground.
The real world
A young girl Yelena is seen with a book that contains illustrations of Tony and Pepper on the page. She's seen getting on a bus to Boston. "That a good book?" An elderly woman asked. "This? Is more than a book." The young girl says her little accent coming out. "Oh?" She asked.
Boston, south station. "Thank you for riding Greyhound." The bus announcer said. Yelena gets off the bus and finds a taxi. "You take credit cards?" She asked holding up the card. "Where to, chief?" The driver asked.
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Asena sat in a restaurant waiting on her target to come for their 'date'. She takes a sip of wine knowing that she'd need it. She wore a pink dress with matching heels and her hair was curly. She sat crossed leg to stop her shaking. To be honest she was scared the guy wouldn't show. But he finally did. "Asena." He greeted.
"Ryan? You looked relieved." She said. "Well, it is the internet. Pictures can be..." He pauses trying to find the right word. "Fake, outdated. Stolen from a Victoria's Secret catalogue." She finished.
He nodded. "Sorry I'm late by the way." He says sitting down in the seat across from her after they greeted each other. "It's totally fine." She replied with a forced smile. "So... Um... Tell me something about yourself, Asena?" He asked nervously. "Oh. Ah, well, today's my birthday." She answered. "And you're spending it with me! What about your friends?" He asked.
𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐈'𝐝 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐫 𝐕𝐨𝐝𝐤𝐚. She thought.
"Kind of a loner." She answered. "And, you don't like your family?" He asked. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞. She thinks holding her facade.
"No family to like." She said taking another sip of wine. "Oh, come on. Everyone has family." Ryan says. "Technically, yeah. And everyone knows who they are? Ready to run yet?" She replied. "Oh not a chance. You, Asena, are by far, the sexiest, friendless orphan I have ever met." He said.
𝐖𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐧? 𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡. She thought. "Okay. Your turn. No wait let me guess. Umm... You are handsome, charming." She started internally gaging. "Go on." Ryan says.
"The kind of guy who— now stop me if I get this wrong — embezzled your former employer, got arrested, and skipped town before they could throw your ass in jail." She fake laughed. "What?" The man asked playing dumb. "And the worst part of all is your wife. Your wife loves you so much that she bailed you out, and how do you repay that loyalty? You're on a date." She finished off.
"Who are you?" The man asked. "The chick that put up the rest of the money." Asena answers. " You're a bails bondsman." Ryan realized. "Bail bondsperson." She corrected. Ryan flipped the table spilling everything on her and took off running. "Bloody Hell!" She groans.
Ryan runs across the street dodging cars and Asena just casually walks through traffic. He tries to start the ignition and looks to find a boot on his tire. "You don't have to do this, okay? I can pay you. I got money." Ryan bargained. "No, you don't. And if you did, you should give it to your wife and take care of your family." Asena said crossing her arms.
"The hell do you know about family, huh?" The man asked. "Nothing." She replied smashing his head against t he steering wheel. When Asena arrived home she kicks off her heels walked to the kitchen. She grabbed a bottle of Scotch and opened a box with a cupcake inside.
She opens the bottle and then puts a star shaped candle in the cupcake. "Another loner year." She lights it then closes her eyes and makes a wish. Theres a knock on the door and Asenas head snapped to it. She opens the door and sees a child. "Are you Asena Montgomery?" She asked. "Yeah?" She answered skeptically. "I'm Yelena and I'm your daughter." The younger blonde says. Yelena pushes past her and into the apartment. "Woah! Hey, kid! Kid! Kid! I don't have a daughter! Where are your parents?" Asena asked.
"Ten years ago. Did you give up a baby for adoption? That was me." Yelena explained. "... Give me a minute." The woman said going to the bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror trying to compose herself. She didn't think that her past would catch up with her ten years later. Plus how could that little girl know that she was her mother?
She had a closed adoption which meant the kid shouldn't even know that she existed. "Hey do you have any juice? Never mind, found some." Yelena hollered from the kitchen. Asena leaves the bathroom after taking a deep breath. She sees the little girl drinking her orange juice straight from the bottle. "Gross." She said taking the bottle from the child. "You know, we should probably get going." Yelena realizes.
"Going where?" Asena asked confused. "I want you to come home with me." Yelena clarified. "Okay, kid. I'm calling the cops." Asena picked up her phone. "Then I'll tell them you kidnapped me." Yelena fired back. "And they'll believe you because I'm your birth mother." Asena huffed in realization. "Yep." The child hummed. "Fair played, but you and I both know you aren't gonna do that." Asena tilted her head in protest.
"Try me." The ten year old challenges. "You're pretty good. But here's the thing, there's a lot I'm good at and a hell of a lot I'm terrible at in life. I have 840 confirmed kills so murder obviously isn't one of them. Let's call it a superpower. I can tell when anyone's lying and you, kid, are." Asena explained to the girl. "Wait... Please don't call the cops. Please come home with me." Yelena begged.
"Where do you live?" Asena sighed. "Storybrooke, Maine." Yelena said. "Storybrooke? Are you serious?" Asena asked. Yelena hummed and nodded. "Alright then." Asena rubbed her temples.
Fairytale world
In the castle in the forest Pepper stood near the balcony, and a bluebird lands on her finger. "What's wrong?" Tony asked. "Nothing" Pepper snapped out of her daze. "You're thinking about what the Queen said again, aren't you? Pepper, please. I can't keep having this conversation. You have to let it go. We're about to have a baby." Pepper turns her head ashamed of being caught thinking about the threat.
She had agreed to try and move past that but how do you move past something like that, especially after you know that she will be true to her word. Pepper knew that Natasha would try everything in her power to take away her happiness. "I haven't had a restful night since our wedding." Pepper pointed out. And it was the truth, she hadn't slept well at all she felt as if she had to look over her shoulder consistently again. "That's what she wants - to get in your head. But they're only words. She can't hurt us." Tony reassured pulling her in.
"She poisoned an apple because the thought i was prettier than her. You have no idea what she's capable of." Pepper argued pulling out of his hold. He didn't get it and she needed him to get it. This woman has made her life hell for years. Natasha has had it out for her and wanted to see her dead and now this. " What can I do to ease your mind?" Tony asked starting to realize that he wasn't going to win this argument and that she wouldn't sleep until she got some type of clarity.
"Let me talk to him." Pepper answered. He was the only one who could give her that reassurance that her child would be safe. "Him? You don't mean..." Tony asked with a hint of fear. "I do." Pepper answered back with a look of determination. "No, no, no. It's too dangerous." Tony shut down the idea immedi ately. She couldn't be serious. She knew how dangerous he was. "He sees the future." Pepper points out. Tony made a face. He was scared he would admit that to no one but himself because he had to be strong for Pepper.
But that didn't mean he wanted help from the person he helped trap. that was suicide. "There's a reason he's locked up." Tony said logically. Pepper placed a hand on her swollen stomach. "Can you promise me that our child will be safe? Can you guarantee it? Because he can." Pepper questioned. The look on Pepper's face was enough to make him cave. Seeing her look so unlike her normal fearless self. "Alright. For our child." Pepper smiled in relief and Tony leaned in for a kiss. She had no idea how much power she had over him, and maybe that was a good thing.
Real world
Asena and Yelena were driving and the former had no idea what time it was. The drive was silent for the most part until Yelena broke it. "I'm hungry. Can we stop somewhere?" The girl asked. "This isn't a road trip kid. We aren't stopping for snacks." Asena replied. Yelena closed her book. "Why not?" She pestered. She was hungry she could feel her stomach growling.
She could also tell that they were close to home and she wasn't ready to go back yet. "Quit complaining, Kid. Remember i could've easily put your ass on a bus and let you go the same way you came." Asena said annoyed slightly. "You know i have a name right? It's Yelena." The blonde child pouted before opening her book again. "What's that." Asena asked just now noticing the big old looking book. "I'm not sure you're ready." Yelena flips through the pages. "Not ready for what? A bunch of fairytales?" Asena questioned scrunching up her face.
Yelena makes a face. These weren't just fairytales they were a truth and even if they were which she was pretty sure they weren't, they were a history, her history. "They aren't just fairytales they are a truth. Every story in this book is a truth, someone's truth. Every story in this book actually happened." Yelena deadpanned. "Of course they did." Asena sighed. It was a long night and this kid has made it longer. Yelena on the other hand was just huffing. How dare she not take her seriously.
"I know I sound crazy, but use your superpower, see if I'm lying." Yelena dared. Asena did and the girl was telling the truth. She wasn't about to let this kid slide though. "Just because you believe in something doesn't make it true. " Asena looked over at the page. "Uh no that's exactly what makes it true. You would know more than I would." Yelena scans through a page. "Oh really now? Why is that?" Asena asked. "Because you're in this book." Yelena flipped to the next page
"You have problems." Asena chuckles. This kid was crazy but so was she so she had no room to say anything. "Yep. And you're going to fix them." Yelena snorted. Asena laughed before switching lanes.
Enchanted Forest
Pepper and Tony are walking behind a guard with cloaks on their heads. The guard has a torch in his hand and he stops them just before they get to the cell. "When we reach the cell, stay out of the light. And whatever you do, do not let him know your name. If he knows your name, he wil have power over you." The guard warns, Pepper and Tony nod at him. "Loki. Loki! I have a question for you." The guard calls to the man in the cell.
Loki comes out of the shadows of the cell. "No, you don't They do. Pepper Potts and Tony Stark..." Loki rasped coming closer to the bars of the cell. "You insult my abilities. Step into the light and take off those ridiculous robes they don't suit you." Loki beckoned.
Pepper and Tony step into the light and slowly lower their hoods to reveal themselves. "Much better." Loki praises. "We've come to you about the..." Tony started before he was cut off. "Yes, yes, you idiot i know why you're here. You want to know about the queen's threat." Loki giggled before turning to the walls of the cell. "Tell us what you know and skip all the taunting." Tony deadpanned.
Loki was finding this amusing he could tell they were desperate. "Ooh tense, are we? Fear not! I can ease your mind. But... It's going to cost you something." Loki was playing with them he wanted nothing big they couldn't give him what he really wanted. Toying with them would be easy. "No he's just a waste of time." Tony turned to leave and Loki faked offence. "What do you want?" Pepper stepped forward and Tony spun around quickly. "Oh...The name of your unborn child." Loki said leaning against the stone of the wall with his arms crossed. "Absolutely not!" Tony protested.
"Deal! What do you know?" Pepper rushed out quickly. She needed to know she didn't have time for Tony's paranoia. Loki giggles and says, "The queen has created a powerful curse. And it's coming. Soon, you'll all be in a prison. Just like me only worse. Your prison, all of our prisons, will be time. Time will stop, and we will be trapped. Someplace horrible, where everything we hold dear, everything we love, will be ripped from us while we suffer for eternity. While the Queen celebrates, victorious at last. No more happy endings." Loki explains with a smile on his face. He laughs at the fact that they remain absolutely clueless and the fear that he could feel radiating from them. "What can we do?" Pepper asked with a sense of dread in her chest.
She was scared of the answer, well not the answer an answer one that could break her heart. "We can't do anything." Loki emphasizes the we. Because in truth they couldn't there was nothing Pepper, himself, Tony could do. "Who can?" Pepper asked again with that same feeling of dread. "That little thing, growing inside your belly. " Loki moves his hand, in a gesture, towards Pepper's stomach. Tony draws his sword quickly and slashes at his hand. "Hands off reindeer games. Next time I cut it off." Tony sheathed his sword and placed a hand on his wife's lower back. Loki tsks and glances at his hand. "The infant is our only hope. Get the child to safety. Get the child to safety and Ion it's twenty-eighth birthday, the child will return. The child will find you and the final battle will begin." Loki says in a sing song voice before spinning on his heel and moving away from the bars.
Tony didn't like that answer and he made it clear by saying, "We've heard enough. We're leaving." And he guided Pepper to the exit. "Hey! No! We made a deal! I want her name! We had a deal! I need her name! I want her name!" Loki growls and angrily hits the bars. "Her? It's a boy." Tony rests his hand on Pepper's bump. "Missy... Missy... You know I'm right. Tell me, what's her name?" Loki asked in a much more calmer voice. "Asena. Her name is Asena." Pepper sighed and started to walk again. "Asena..." Loki mumbled.
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha x you#ouat au#Swanqueenau#natasha romanoff x oc#Enchantment au#Enchantment fic:
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I Wanted To
Astarion x gn! Reader/Tav
Almost 3.5k words
Tags: Fluff, kisses, cuddling, angst, biting mention, no use of y/n, words of affection (so much sappiness), soft! Astarion, they’re in love your honor!!
CW: Slight mentions of SA and trauma (extremely minor, incredibly light piece)
Summary: You and Astarion decide to start your relationship over once you both confess your feelings. It's a mutual decision to take things extremely slow, celebrating little victories of intimacy here and there. Tonight, you can't hide your words of affection as he becomes more comfortable and vulnerable around you.
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It’s been a few months traveling with this rowdy crew, and you can’t help but smile thinking about how much you love them all. Granted, they all piss you off on the daily, what from Shadowheart and Lae’zel attempting to kill each other, to Gale eating your favorite pair of enchanted gloves, but you can’t help yourself from smiling every time you think about how close you’ve all grown. One particular member in the party you have become very close with stands out a bit more than the rest, and thoughts about him are enough to make you unsettlingly giddy.
For the longest time, you and the pale elf fought your feelings, too cold to warm up to each other. You both had a wicked past, something that tainted your current perceptions of love and romance. His may have been far more extreme than yours, but regardless of that fact, your feelings and emotions were still valid. For a short few weeks, you found yourselves being extra intimate, dismissing it all as stress relief and nothing more. Those little excursions were merely there as a form of self protection: He gained your trust and protection, and you felt less alone and vulnerable at night. Or, so you thought, until you noticed how distant he was, his eyes never meeting yours every time he sought to pleasure you.
It wasn’t until recently that these barriers slowly began to be chipped away for the both of you, your infatuation not only becoming more real, but unfortunately, more terrifying. One night, you approached him, being brave and understanding if he had other thoughts about what you two could be. It was late, most of the camp either asleep or preparing for bed. You approached him, a soft hand on his shoulder, even though he was well aware you were there. What you were there for though, remained a mystery to him. He turned, smiling at you, taking your hand and kissing it affectionately. As your heart raced, you began a discussion with him, asking his thoughts and feelings about your ‘connection’ rather than just bombarding him with an overwhelming confession of love.
He seemed stunned to say the least, unsure of what to say or how to feel. It was strange for him, his cold heart beating a little faster, feeling a little warmer at the sight of you in front of him, actually seeing him for him and not just another plaything. All these feelings were bubbling up inside him because, for the first time in a long time, someone not only asked him what he wanted in a romantic relationship, but they respected anything he said on that subject matter. In all his nervousness, he felt that he could be honest in his reciprocation to see how far you two could go, this time with real feelings. That was a few weeks ago, and all this time since has been magical.
You haven’t intimately slept together since just before that night, instead establishing boundaries and focusing more on the non-sexual ways to be intimate, loving, and kind. He loves the way your hand brushes his, the way your fingers interlace with his as he moves in to hold your hand. You love the way his hand lands on your back, stretching to your hip to pull you closer to him, especially when meeting new people from town to town. While you still struggle with eye-contact in general, it feels easier around him, especially now since he has found himself to be more comfortable actually looking at you, taking in your appearance and being more present in your conversations.
For many nights now, you’ve been cuddled up nicely in one or the other’s tent, fingers interlaced, hands gently wrapped around hips, legs occasionally intertwined. He still continues to feed on you, though he makes sure to gain your permission before bed each night. On the nights where you felt too tired, too drained mentally even, he would leave you be, hoping to keep you as comfortable as possible. Those nights were just as romantic, as you could feel his breath against your neck as he cuddles you tightly, his lips on your shoulder as he falls into the soft rhythm of sleep.
Tonight didn’t start off any differently from any other night; you both gathered in his tent, doing your nightly routines as per usual (always before promptly passing out until the next morning hit you like a boulder). Most nights he would wear a nice, silky pajama set, one he purchased from an unreasonably expensive fashion designer in a small village. You didn’t have as luxurious of pajamas, but yours still covered most of your body, keeping you feeling safe and snuggled up each night.
Neither of you expected that this night would change everything.
He’s standing off to the side of your shared bedroll, changing into his pajamas while your back is turned to him, fiddling with the blanket you both share. You notice just how used this blanket is, and you realize that it might have been the only thing giving him comfort, the feeling of security over the past 200 or so years. Astarion was far from one to share, whether it was his feelings or his belongings, and it isn’t long before you have a second realization: you are possibly the only person to have ever slept with that blanket besides him. Your fingers gently roll the decaying fabric between your fingers, taking in all of his memories that have been exhausted on the threads.
You hear him walking over and you drop your thoughts about the blanket, not wanting to pry into more of his distressing past. He kneels, picking up the blanket and sliding next to you, your bodies touching in an instant. Turning your attention away from the blanket, you look up to see your love is shirtless, moving around in the bedroll, trying to be more comfortable at your side.
You know just how insecure he is about his scars from Cazador, that disgusting, vile, treacherous bitch, but it was so lovely to see him stepping out of his comfort zone. While you’re quick to notice this new change, he’s even quicker to notice your reaction. Diving back into his comfort charm, he smirks at you, loading a phrase to protect his vulnerable side.
“Like what you see, darling?” His eyes flutter to the side a bit, and you immediately notice his withdrawal from the conversation. With a calm and gentle hand, you caress his cheek, turning his attention back to you.
“I always love what I see…” You smile, your eyes looking at him in such a way that your face beams with pride, though you try to find a balance between that and neutral so as to not overwhelm him. To see just how much he trusts you, is willing to open up to you and be vulnerable… Your heart can barely take it. In a quiet voice you’re sure to check in on him, wanting to make sure he feels secure in his choice. “Don’t feel you have to do this for me though, okay?”
His hand reaches up to hold yours against his cold cheek, his stare suddenly becoming more present. “I wanted to.” His voice is low, his hand taking yours off his face as he leans in gently to kiss your palm. He kisses your forehead before moving to lie down, making himself comfortable in your small space.
You sit there for a moment, considering your options. You don’t want to make him uncomfortable, but you want him to be aware that you feel the same sense of shared comfort. As he turns to the side, looking at a book he left on the ground earlier, you move to remove your shirt, tossing it off to the side. He moves the book away from you both so you don’t roll into it in the night. Turning back to face you, he pauses, taking in the sight of your bare chest. He looks up at you, tilting his head, nearly asking you the same question you just asked him.
Before he can say anything, you lean slightly closer to him, your voice a loud whisper. “I wanted to.” His eyes soften, and you can tell he’s flattered by this display of intimacy. You begin to crawl under the old blanket with him, and he pulls you close, his hand around your waist. The feel of his cold, soft skin against your bare back is enough to send shivers down your spine, and you realize that this must be so close to what heaven feels like. His free hand reaches up and caresses your jaw before tangling in your hair, gently playing with it as he knows it helps you fall asleep.
Your hand rests on his bare chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat slowing down as he continues to relax in your care. You lie there for a while, trying to sleep, but something is keeping you awake. Perhaps it’s the looming threat that you could all die soon in brutally vicious ways, or the fact that you don’t want to waste a single second enjoying this time with your new lover. Suppose you’ll never truly know.
Regardless of what is keeping you up on this night, you begin to feel a little restless, unable to lie there in that position for too much longer without your arms going numb. You sit up a little, leaning on the arm you’ve been lying on, trying to not wake your companion. However, his body shifts with you, and it appears that he is still just as awake as you are.
“I didn't wake you, did I?” You whisper in a worried voice.
“Not in the slightest, my dear. Unable to sleep tonight, as I am sure you understand.”
You sigh, still leaning over him slightly, his hand that was once on your waist now drawing circles on your shoulder blade, the hand in your hair now resting on your hip. You want to speak, but you find yourself getting lost in the way his face looks in the moonlight peeking through his tent flap. It frames his face so perfectly, almost as if this scene was sculpted by the Gods. He notices your sudden distance, and he is quick to check in on you.
“Are you alright, love?” He asks, a tinge of concern in his voice, once again tilting his head like a confused puppy.
“Sorry… Yes, yes. More than alright.” You reassure him, not breaking your focus. A beat; he attempts to determine what’s on your mind. Thinking he’s found it, he smirks.
“Admiring how beautiful I am?”
“Yeah… Just looking at creases around your eyes…” You say in a loving tone, not even remotely aware of how backhanded the comment you just made sounds.
He begins to shuffle, pushing you away, offended by your lack of sincerity. “Alright, there’s no need-”
“No! Not like that.” You chuckle, snapping back into reality. You grab him, pulling him back to you, his head pressing back into the pillow below you.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just-” You can’t stop yourself from laughing a little at the sight of your pouting partner underneath you.
You notice just how unamused he is, and you abruptly stop laughing, clearing your throat and composing yourself in a more serious manner. Your hand reaches up and the pad of your thumb brushes against his crows feet, your mind falling back into your feelings of love and adoration for him.
“The way your eyes crinkle when you laugh… The way your eyes sharpen when you’re glaring at me, like you are right now… The way they soften every time I walk in the room… I love those wrinkles, they’re such a beautiful part of you.” He relaxes again, taking in your words, though still unhappy at your mention of his wrinkles, making him feel old. Though, no matter how much he hates his aging characteristics being brought up, he will never turn away any form of flattery.
“Well, augh. You really are sweet, aren’t you? But I’m sure you like more of me than just my dreaded wrinkles.” He was definitely fishing for compliments, that much was obvious, but he wasn’t aware of just how much you wanted to smother him in loving words. You lean forward and kiss his crows feet on both sides, surprising him. Smiling, your thumb traces over his eyebrows, taking in their shape and feel.
“My eyebrows, really? Nothing else catching your eye?” He whines, his hands going back to resting on your shoulder blade and hip. He can feel your body shake as you laugh, your head falling forward towards his chest as you continue to giggle from his pouting. You bring your head back up, focusing on his face once more.
“One thing at a time, dearest.” You pause, analyzing the shape of his eyebrows. Just how sharp they are, how often he uses them to his advantage when he is charming people. As you continue to gaze at them, he raises one of them, making your heart go crazy.
“You’re so expressive. Your eyebrows are so perfectly shaped, the way you use them like a weapon… I know it’s silly, I know they’re just eyebrows, but they’re your eyebrows, and they mean so much to me.” You trail off, your face flushed with embarrassment as you realize just how overly sentimental your words are. He smiles at you, knowing just how hard you’re trying, and appreciating every second of it. You kiss his eyebrows before quickly moving on.
Your fingers trace along his face, noticing his mole. By now he’s exhausted, you’re three for three with things he’s sensitive about. “Darling, if this is your way of making me feel less upset about not being able to look in mirrors, I must say it’s starting to work.” His words deceive his face and body language, but you still try to abide by his wishes.
Wanting to show your love, without spending too much time on it, you mention how much the mole under his eye suits him, how he would almost seem incomplete without a beauty spot. The usage of ‘beauty’ in ‘beauty spot’ convinced him to let it slide, but the ice you were dreamily skating on was wearing thin. Kissing his mole, you move on once again.
The skin of his nose was soft as you trace the pad of your finger down the bridge of his nose. “Your nose… it’s so sharp. Don’t laugh, but one of my favorite feelings is when I wake up and your nose is either on my back or my neck. I can feel your breathing on my skin, your nose pressed against me while you sleep. It’s so calming, having any little part of you so close to me.” He looks at you a little confused, mostly due to the fact that you’re still here appreciating him. The things you’re saying, they’re so small and insignificant, yet you enunciate each word like it’s the most important thing you’ll ever say. Each word has a purpose, a meaning, and they fall out of your mouth effortlessly; something he still has yet to learn how to do.
You kiss the tip of his nose, your fingers tracing down his face to his smile lines. Oh his smile lines. You just can’t help but adore his smile lines, no matter how much he absolutely hates them. He hates them because they age him, but you love them for all the same reason. To know he laughs, smiles, has any semblance of being happy is enough for you to be overjoyed at the sight of these lines that prove the existence that he has been able to enjoy life enough to have physical proof on his face.
“Don’t you dare.” He teases, though you wish he could bear with you for just a moment to explain your thoughts. Figuring you could do it another time, as tonight has already had enough excitement, you kiss his smile lines and spare him from your honeyed words.
Last, but certainly not least: his lips. Your thumb traces over his lips which are closed together, gently pushing up just enough to where you wonder if he was trying to secretly kiss your thumb. As you continue to run your thumb over his lips, reminiscing on all the times your own experienced his, he takes you by surprise.
Removing the hand from your hip, his thumb graces your lips, and you find yourself trying to inconspicuously kiss at it like he did to you just moments ago. You open your mouth to speak, but he uses his finger to silence you, gently shushing you.
“My turn.” His voice is smooth and tender as his thumb continues to trace over your slightly parted lips. “Your lips… They have always been so soft and inviting.” He pauses, still staring at them.
“I must admit, I despised them at first.” A confused expression crosses your face just before he continues. “They would taunt me on a daily basis, the one thing I couldn’t have no matter how much charm I threw at you. When I was eventually graced with them, I loathed the way my name would be cried out from them, almost as if you were saying it like a prayer. It tore me apart, wanting something I wasn’t sure I actually wanted, or even felt like I deserved…” He trails off, though his gaze remains constant on you.
“How do they make you feel now?” You softly ask, just barely loud enough for even yourself to hear.
He thinks on this for a moment, searching for the proper word.
“Safe.”
He leans up to you, cupping your cheek as he kisses you, the most delicate and loving kiss you two have ever shared. You both pull from the kiss, exercising restraint and respect for your pre-established boundaries. A hand resting on his chest, you encourage him to lie back on the pillow once more, which he does. You lean forward, kissing every part of his face that you mentioned, as well as a few spots just because you wanted to. Kissing his lips again, you pull apart just enough to whisper against his lips.
“I admire everything about you. Every aspect of you is just so lovely… Thank you for being here, with me. I don’t ever want to leave your side.”
He smiles, his fangs poking out this time. His hand moves a strand of hair out of your face as he clears his throat.
“And thank you for all the kisses.” He says, resuming his usual charm. You try to hide your slight disappointment, but you know he is trying his best and you can’t expect him to always meet you halfway, especially in this time of healing.
“Always.” You whisper, lying down next to him as he wraps his arms around you, holding you closely. It’s late, and now that you have this feeling lifted off your chest, you find it easier to sleep. Your heart rate begins to slow, your breathing finding its usual pattern, your lover wrapped up tightly with you.
When you’re on the edge of falling asleep, you feel his head tilting down towards yours, which is resting on his chest. His lips kiss the top of your head, his chin then resting on that same spot. A quiet voice breaks the air, unaware that it still has an audience.
“I love you.”
You freeze, unsure of whether or not you have actually fallen into a dream state, or if you just heard him correctly. In this state of grogginess, your body shifts as you attempt to determine the truth.
“Shit. Did you hear that?”
“Mhm.” You sleepily groan. He lets out a sigh of relief, thinking he’s talking to you in your sleep like he has before. Settling further into the bedroll, making himself more comfortable, he pulls you tighter, finally deciding to rest.
“I love you too.” You break the silence, your voice more awake this time. His eyes flash open, his red irises laser focused on you. You can feel his heart pounding as you rest on his chest, and you lean over and kiss just above his heart.
“Safe.” Is all you can say before promptly passing out, your warm skin slowly heating up his own. He sits there for another moment, taking in the events of today. It was a lot, to say the least, but he felt comfortable and confident in his decisions, and that was almost truly a first for him. His hand finds its way back into your hair, stroking it as he begins to drift off to sleep, for the first time in a long time feeling comfortable, guarded, protected, safe.
~
Author’s Note:
He’s extremely OOC, I’m 95% sure lmao but I love making characters total softies, even if we don’t see that side of them in the media they’re from. (I'm still in the very beginning of Act 2 so I'm learning a lot about him through this site too)
I’ve never experienced love, I’m also sure that’s obvious- I’ve always wanted to do something like this with someone though (look at their face and kiss all my favorite spots). While I was writing this, I felt so awkward writing such sappy dialogue, but I realized that moments like these aren’t smooth and rehearsed; feelings get mushy and oftentimes people say dumb and dorky things because they’re just so in love. I hope it gets translated that way at least hahaha
My Spotify is fucked because I listen to specific songs on repeat whenever I write. I have probably about 4-5 hours of “Blue Moon” by Billie Holiday logged on there now because of all the time planning, writing, and thinking about this fic- I got this song from Neil’s Astarion playlist, it’s so sweet and loving :)
Edit: So many people are saying he’s actually pretty in character so thank you for the validation because I was nervous 😭
#astarion#baldurs gate 3#bg3#bg3 astarion#astarion fic#astarion x tav#gn!tav#bg3 tav#astarion x reader#astarion x you#soft astarion#astarion fluff#they're in love your honor#fluff fic#tooth rotting fluff#they're so sappy#i also wanted an excuse to call Cazador a bitch#and i love making jokes about Gale eating enchanted clothes even though he doesn't need to in my run anymore#no y/n#i hate y/n sorry
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I've been thinking about the templars lately. they were promised honor, virtue, told that they would be charged with protection of the innocent... And then those same people are systemically exploited and abused, abuse others because they're taught to regard everyone else as either sheep who need to be lead or potential threats. Never equals, except in their brothers/sisters-in-arms. They act as the guard-dogs and military arm of an entirely different organization that they're only a functionary member of but have no governing say in. Even the chantry aren't their equals- they function as the templar order's supervisors! And all this isolation and closing of ranks ends in disability, addiction, death, and abandonment by the system they spent their bodies in service of.
To top that off, retaliations against them just confirm the paranoia they were taught to embrace. It's probably a long hard road to get out of that hole.
Like, listen. the dichotomy of mage vs templars is a satisfying and easy one, but the system is tearing them apart too. have you ever heard of a retired templar?
at the end of it, mages and templars need to unite against the real threat. the chantry.
#this is an anti chantry post i want that temple exploded NOW#the chantry controls the lyrium; benefits directly from the formari enchanter system; has a financial incentive to make and use tranquil#the templars are breaking themselves in service of a system that functionally does Not care about them in any way except#their ability to hold a sword and counteract fade magic and that messes me up#thedosians need a fucking cross-field labor union NOW#of course the kalna would probably send the carta after any potential organizations of that nature#and the coterie#cant kill em all though!!!#actually that would be a hilarious fic#dragon age#canon dont interact i dont pay attention to discrete facts here we operate on half remembered game knowledge and vibes#if there are any retired templars out there: uhh... enjoy that. happy for you king (alistair)#cullen rutherford fundamentally represents 'no retirement plans' for me#the man is fifteen chronic illnesses ptsd shit withdrawal and interpersonal abandonment in a trenchcoat with fur trim#text it#long tags
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Things I never get tired of writing
weird cultural worldbuilding, especially with strange, intricate social norms and power dynamics
characters playing little made up card games with implied bizarre, convoluted rules where I blatantly rip off the vibe of Pokemon, MTG, Duel Monsters/Yugioh etc
we see one of my favs from an outside POV: they are hot, badass, terrifying, tragic, or any/all of the above
#bullet point two is less represented in my writing over all but it is on my mind because it's what I'm writing at the moment lmao#still very amused by the motorcity fic where Chuck and his nerd buddies were playing ''Enchantment: The Convocation''#you don't have to make up rules you just have to pepper in there shit like#''(X) lays down two golden spires and activates //Dread Encumbrance of the Pilgrim//.''#i find it incredibly fun to make that shit up and also it gives people something to do with their hands in between dialogue lines lmao
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@hereticcryptid i'm late responding to this prompt, but have a continuation on baxia and hensheng wanting more cuddles than one would normally expect from a spiritual sword!
#we're really channeling some e-ming energy here - let the flexible snake sword cuddle!#mdzs#nieyao#jin guangyao#jgy#nie mingjue#nmj#meng yao#baxia#hensheng#grandmaster of demonic cultivation#he's touch-starved your honour and the swords are going to expose it#my art#look either someone else needs to rec me a fic that uses this prompt or i'm gonna need to write my own#because i'm honestly enchanted by this concept#someone must have done some e-ming style sword silliness in this fandom right? link me goofy nieyao nonsense please and thank yooooou
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tries to sleep, fails, gets melancholy, copes by writing purple turtle fic
donatello/reader, gn!reader, rated t, 1.6k. insomnia, friends to.... friends, (were you ever just friends? are you something more? what is love if not friendship shifted an inch to the left?), yearning, yearning, yearning, yearning—
Donatello is sleeping.
Hefting a fatigued sigh, you hover in the doorway to his bedroom for a moment. Staring at his face, taking it in. He’s gotten unfairly handsome as the years have gone by. Beautiful, even. Pretty angles, sharp defined lines, dark seductive eyes. Like this, unmasked, slack in sleep, it’s free for you to look as much as you want. More than you can during the day. A little secret thing just for your own heart’s keeping.
…Best friends shouldn’t want to stare at each other like this, you think with an ache.
It’s late. You can’t sleep. Lying down has provided nothing but racing thoughts you can’t quiet. Things to do tomorrow. Things to say when you see someone. Things to write down if you can hold them until the morning. Things, things, things. So many things in your head, ten thousand little voices like little snowflakes in your skull. Each small, powerless; but together, a force too mighty to outrun.
And Donnie is sleeping. Normally he’s awake. Fiddling, poking, prodding, studying, twisting, cracking, bending. Available to draw you into sleep. Always soothing, petting your hair, cooing at you until you drift off at last to the dulcet sounds of his low rumbles.
But not tonight. Tonight he sleeps, pretty in his sheets even as he’s all sprawled out and drooling. Cute. He’s cute. He’s cute and close enough to touch but so, so far away that you know you never will. Not like that. Not like that.
It’s late. You can’t sleep.
Slowly, not wanting to wake him, infuriated with yourself just at the thought that you’d risked it by lingering as long as you have, you peel away from his door frame and sneak into the living room. The couch greets you again. Inviting, soft. It smells like turtle ass. Popcorn. Movie night. It smells like family, like home. Scratchy beneath your cheek. You’ve been meaning to get them some new pillows. The way Mikey had laughed so hard he’d snorted his drink. Leo’s squawk when it got all over him. The weight of Donnie’s arm on your shoulder when he’d leaned on you while laughing until he got the hiccups. His cologne, new, smells nice. You should tell him tomorrow.
(You can’t tell him. There’s no way for a best friend to look at the other with pupils shaped like hearts and be the same. You can’t tell him.)
Heavily, you sigh. It’s late. You can’t sleep.
You sit up. Get up off the couch. Stretch a little before exhaling and walking around a bit to try and work off some of this excess energy. The darkness of the living room isn’t so much, anymore, what with how your eyes have adjusted. You can see the pieces of the evening strewn about. A pizza box that Splinter’s going to find in the morning and yell at the lot of you for not throwing out. Raph’s teddy bear, leaning against the other couch where he’d been pretending he hadn’t been using it to hide his face in the scary parts. Mikey’s cup, half-full, forgotten in Leo’s panic to find paper towels. And—
—Donnie, standing in the doorway, bleary-eyed, arms folded.
“Why are you awake?” he asks, voice tumbling over your ears like rocks on a riverbed. Guilt strikes you like a blow. He’s exhausted. You’ve woken him up.
“I’m sorry,” you say as an answer, tangling your fingers in the shirt you’d borrowed out of his closet. The shirt you always borrow. The shirt that’s half yours, now.
Donnie’s quiet. You sink your teeth into your lower lip and hope he’ll shrug and go back to bed. Maybe, if he’s lucky, he’s got enough sleep juice in him that he’ll drift right back off and forget this happened.
He doesn’t. “…Can’t sleep?”
The guilt burns your skin like sand in the wind. You smile and pretend. “I’ll be okay. Go back to bed, Don. You need it more than I do.”
He doesn’t.
“…Please?” you try again.
You’re met, instead, with a sigh. He rubs the back of his head where his mask would tie if he were wearing it. Lets his arm fall to his side—ah, except no. He’s holding out his hand, palm outstretched, inviting you to come close. When you don’t, his beak wrinkles. “Come here.”
You take a few steps closer, but don’t take his hand just yet. “What are you doing?”
“Just come here,” he says again, curling his fingers a few times in an imperious grabby command. You come closer. He opens his tired eyes in a squint, mouth dipped into a frown, and his gesture gets more demanding. “Come here.”
Stepping closer, closer, closer, finally you get within range. You realize he wants your hand the moment he loses patience with you, watching as he rolls his eyes and reaches out to encircle your wrist with strong fingers. They eclipse the bones there easily, tugging as he turns, pulling you out of the living room.
“Don—” you start to protest, but he stops you with a breath.
“Stubborn,” he accuses, though there’s no heat to the word. The scoff is thick on the back of your tongue—Donnie of all people calling you stubborn—but you don’t let it out, knowing it’ll be too-loud in the pitch night.
He pulls you into his room, the very room that had been such a sweet siren song to you earlier. He pulls you towards his bed. He pulls you in behind him when he settles in. He pulls you beneath his blanket. He pulls, pulls, pulls, until your chest is flush to his plastron and his arm is around your waist and his breath is in your face and your heart is in your throat.
It’s late. You’re not going to be able to sleep.
“…Go to sleep,” he says after a few seconds, doubtless able to feel the way your pulse is like a hummingbird against his skin.
“Sorry,” you say in lieu of—anything else. You don’t dare try to say another word, unsure of what exactly would tumble out instead. Perhaps a sweet poem about the texture of his skin against yours. Maybe a lament that he feels the need to tuck his thigh between yours so so so close to where you wake in a pool of sweat dreaming of his touch. Or possibly a whispered confession that tastes like lightning and blood and sugar all at the same time; that you want this but not this, you want this but more.
Gently, a forehead bonks against yours. Dark eyes open and meet yours, centimeters away. He studies you, and you watch the gears turn. More slowly than usual, lethargic even, because of his slumber.
“You’re thinking too much,” he murmurs. Dumbly, you nod. “Need to talk about it?”
“…Yeah,” you admit, then, “…but I won’t.”
He doesn’t like that. A frown mars his beautiful, beautiful face.
“Why?”
You swallow the incredulous laugh, the kaleidoscope of responses. They’re all irrelevant, impossible to share, save for one. “You should sleep.”
Donnie’s hand tightens, fingers curling in his—your—shirt in the small of your back. “So should you.”
“Yeah.”
“…”
“…”
“…I don’t understand.” The confession, rare, makes you sigh.
“…I don’t either,” you tell him. And you don’t. Why did you have to feel this way for him? Why couldn’t it be someone easier that stole your heart? Why does it have to be the one person you can’t stand to lose? Why does he have to be so comfortable touching you like this and making it hurt even worse? Why can’t you stop feeling this way?
Why can’t you sleep? Why can’t you sleep?
His fingers unfurl from your shirt. His hand dips beneath the hem, finding the skin of your back. Slow shivers spread like little earthquakes as he strokes along your spine, tectonic caresses that ripple and destroy. It's familiar enough a touch that you don't stop him; unfamiliar enough that it rends you inside out.
Donnie leans in. Ghosts his lips along your jaw. It’s not a kiss; you’re just friends, after all. But it’s a sweet caress that feels good, all the way to where he lingers at your ear, whispering there, quivering at the touch that's too close to something else to be fair. “Close your eyes.”
You have one rule: listen to Donatello. So you do; you close your eyes, let his nails drag down your back, let his mouth press warm into your pulse, let his chest rumble with churrs that fill the night air with something akin to a lullaby. His legs curl around yours, mixing, confusing, making the separation of you disappear.
It’s… maddening. You hate this. You love him. You love him so much. You hate that he can do this so easily.
“Shhh,” comes the gentle coo against your skin, like he can tell you’re pulling away from his intent. You obey that, too. Donnie says to be quiet, so you quiet. Thoughts, movements, words; all of them fall away at his beckoning. “Just like that. Good.”
Good, you think, feeling a little fuzzy. It feels good to be good for him. God. You’d be so good for him—but no. None of that, now. Not when you can pretend that these little presses of his lips are kisses. That the thickness of his thigh pressed to your shorts means something. That his hand scratching lines in your skin is something meant to claim as much as it is to calm.
“Making me work for it tonight,” you hear him mumble, half-conscious of the words, not sure if they’re real or part of a dream he’s built for you. “Good job, sweetheart. Just like that.”
More brushes of his mouth. A slow glide of tongue. A lovely dream, you think, finally letting your muscles go slack. A dream of a Donatello who would hold you like this, talk to you like this. A Donatello who is more than just your best friend.
It’s late. Finally, warm and held and pulled into a sweet dream, finally, you sleep.
#me slurring with a voice thick with sleep: two best friends that are in love but too close to tell and so they dance like leaves in the wind#forever brushing close. darting about like little butterflies. gossamer wings catching the light and enchanting one another w each breath#but too close. too close. you can't see the scope of a painting when it's the single strokes that catch your eye.#.....................it's almost four in the morning. im sure there are errors but i shan't be fixing them now. have it as it comes#tmnt#rise#donatello/reader#my fic#rating: t
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Thats How You Know - Leona
Author Notes: This fic is actually for the @briarvalleyarchives "Anthems of Old" event. It was inspired by its namesake song, "That's How You Know" from the Disney film Enchanted. It's surprisingly nerve-wracking to be posting a fic for an event, but I had fun writing thing and had to curb the urge to not just rip of the scene from the film. As per usual, reader is gender neutral. I hope you enjoy.
Type: Fluff/ romantic/ gender-neutral reader/ sfw
Word Count: 1782
“You know he likes you, right?” Ruggie had leaned over to look you in the eye better as he voiced his question, but you looked away as soon as his words registered.
His question drew a sigh from your lips that didn’t quite match the odd smile on your face as you kept your silence. You weren’t quite able to answer his question, even as Ruggie frowned at your silence.
The truth was that, in a lot of ways, you felt like Leona did like you just as much as you liked him. But he never really did anything to show it if he did, which left you with questions.
How could you really know if he did like, much less love, you?
Despite what others said, you weren’t certain. You knew you liked him. After all, you’d taken to picking up on his interests, worries, and other such little tidbits that made up the individual that was Leona. They’d affected you, becoming interests and worries of your own.
What had started out as curiosity and wanting to get to know him better had swelled from there. You’d fallen in love with Leona. And while you knew that Leona didn’t hate you, the matter of romantic interest was….. Well, it was a whole other can of worms that you weren’t nearly as confident about.
Or at least you weren’t until recently.
It had started out simply enough, with a small note being left on your desk on top of a stack of books. The note itself was pinned in an elegant but largely unfamiliar hand and mentioned the upcoming practical magic test.
Something you knew you were going to flunk, what with your lack of ability to practice magic.
But after just a little bit of studying, it became clear that maybe you had a better chance of passing than you had thought.
The books in the mysterious stack handled the subject well, showing intensive instructions for how to draw an appropriate magic circle that would help you pass the test without having to actually use magic.
That wasn’t what really caught your attention, though. What caught your attention was the signature on the reverse side of the note, which you hadn’t found until you’d given it a closer inspection.
Elegant and small-lettered, the signature was barely noticeable but easily capable of causing a smile to appear on your face.
Leona Kingscholar.
You’d known he’d helped Ruggie get caught up with the rest of the school in terms of tutoring and having uniforms when he’d first come to NRC, but you’d never expected him to help you.
Perhaps he did care a bit more for your concerns and troubles than you’d thought….
You’d thanked the Savannaclaw housewarden after you’d passed the test, but he’d brushed off your gratitude with an almost trained ease.
“You help Jack out with his work, so if I give you stuff, I don’t have to tutor him myself,” A lazy smirk had spread across his features. He’d looked over his shoulder at you as he’d walked off, throwing a final comment back at you, “Less work for me that way.”
His words had caused you to frown slightly, but you shrugged them off. He wasn’t wrong after all. You and the other first-years often studied together to help each other with your problem subjects. If you could teach Jack things, then Leona wouldn't have to worry about it. Though you were pretty sure he’d never bothered with that in the past either.
But what followed the next day had you forgetting your previously dismissive thoughts.
You and Grim both stared down at the bright yellow flowers that greeted you from your doorstep. At odds with the otherwise dreary day, they smiled brightly up at you from the discolored wood of your porch. They were one of your favorite flowers from the ones you’d seen since coming to this world, simply due to how happy they looked.
You frowned at the blooms even as you knelt to collect them. They were tied with a rough cord, an oddly rugged touch to such a sweet sentiment.
You fingered the cord slightly before taking them inside to plop in a glass of water before heading off to the botanical garden for Potionology class.
Except when you at last reached the botanical garden, you froze. Staring at the familiar yellow flowers that greeted you, yet again, with smiling faces from alongside jaggedly cut stems that had no doubt been where your little bouquet had once resided.
It could have been a coincidence that Leona spent large amounts of time in the botanical garden where these pretty little flowers, that perfectly matched the color of yellow he wore on his dorm uniform, grew.
It was a color that was slowly becoming one of your favorites as the days wore on and was possibly one of the reasons you did like these flowers so much
Either way, the oddness of it all was enough to make you wonder and smile to yourself at the possibilities.
You were still smiling as you were chopping the potion ingredients and you almost missed the grin Ace was wearing when he leaned over closer, “So, anything interesting today?”
You frowned, immediately suspicious since you knew good and well that Ace didn’t bring those flowers when he’d just claimed they aggravated his allergies mere seconds ago.
His question, though, was incredibly fishy considering that getting a bouquet of flowers from an unknown sender was definitely an interesting start to your day.
“I got some flowers this morning…. Some of those yellow ones you said you were allergic to,” You eyed him skeptically, but he merely snorted.
“Ooh, got an admirer, have we, Prefect?” He bounced his eyebrows at you before laughing at your eye roll and continuing on.
“My day had a weird start too. First thing this morning, Deuce informed me that Jack apparently overheard Ruggie telling Leona that you couldn’t read minds.”
The redhead’s grin was sly now as he shouldered you playfully, “Weird, huh? Would’ve thought everyone knew that. After all, if you could read minds, you wouldn’t have needed those books to help you with the practical magic test, right?”
You blinked in surprise at the redhead, ignoring the teasing tone he used in favor of thinking about this new information.
The rest of class went by in a blur until Ruggie came trotting over, an exasperated expression on his face, “Y/n, hun, help a guy out?”
You sighed almost immediately at his wheedling tone but found yourself turning to face him anyway, “What is it, Ruggie?”
You were fully prepared for some sort of grand tale about how he had too many jobs and needed help running something to a class or that he’d found some sort of new couple deal and wanted to go on a fake date in the name of sales.
But it was none of those things. Instead, you were met with a sandwich being shoved into your hands, “Give this to Leona for me. I haven’t got the time, and he’s miffed with me anyway. You’re a real pal, bye!”
He was skittering away, waving with his signature snicker, before you even had a chance to object. You glanced Ace’s way only to be met with a rapid head shake, “Oh no, he gave that to you. You’re on your own, Prefect.”
The redhead backed away like you were carrying a bomb and quickly abandoned you to your newfound work. You rolled your eyes at both of the men’s dramatics but turned on your heel, striding towards where Leona always napped with a sandwich in hand. You had some questions you wanted to ask him anyway.
You stepped into the clearing to see him sitting there with some food already in front of him, causing you to frown at the sandwich in your hand.
He looked up at you with his tail flicking in an oddly energetic fashion behind him. Unlike you, he didn’t seem to be surprised in the slightest bit. In fact, he almost seemed amused by your confusion.
“About time you got here. I’d almost begun to suspect that Ruggie had somehow missed you,” His words were delivered with the customary smirk, and all of the various pieces snapped into place.
“So, the flowers were from you?” You grinned slightly as you sat down across from him and started unwrapping the sandwich in your hand, only to find that, rather than his preferred variety, it was your favorite kind of the sandwiches offered by the cafeteria’s deli. A rare luxury that you couldn’t usually afford.
Leona looked down at the food in front of him and, instead of answering your question, posed one of his own, “So, have you got an answer for Ruggie’s question yet?”
Your eyes widened slightly at his nonchalant question, and your mind went racing back to just a couple of days ago, when Ruggie had been questioning if you knew how Leona felt about you. “You heard him?”
Leona grinned outright at your shock, “Oh yeah, I heard the whole conversation.” He looked up at you, ears twitching almost pointedly as he leaned back. Totally relaxed despite your own embarrassment.
“You ought to pay better attention to your surroundings. Herbivores like you have to be careful if you don’t want someone catching you off guard.”
He was so smug, but you found yourself recovering from being flustered as a thought registered, “But that’s how you came to know how I felt. Right?”
He snorted before leaning forward, entering your personal space with a single easy motion that had your previous confidence failing you, “I already knew. You’d already proved that plenty of times.”
Mercifully, he leaned back, “So, have you got your answer?”
You found yourself smiling slightly at his question this time despite how pleased he seemed with himself.
Because of course you had your answer. After he’d done so much to prove that he did care and that he paid special attention to you, how could you not?
He’d known that you’d needed help on a test, that you liked those flowers in that specific color, and that you liked this sandwich. They were all little things, but those little things made up who you were. And he’d taken the time to do all of those things just to show you that he did care and did like you because he’d overheard Ruggie’s question and correctly interpreted your own concerns even though you hadn’t voiced them.
Paying attention to little things like that and taking the time to reassure you…. That's how you know that someone loves you.
#Twisted wonderland imagines#briarvalleyarchives#Leona x reader#Twisted wonderland x reader#Twisted wonderland#anthems of old#event fic#Leona kingscholar#leona kingscholar x reader#sfw#fluff#romantic#gender neutral reader#That's how you know#Enchanted film#Disney#Disney TW#twst#Twisted wonderland x you#Twisted wonderland x y/n#Leona x you#Leona x y/n#twst x reader#twst x y/n#twst x you#mentions of Ruggie and Ace#flowers#Savannaclaw#mywritings#fanfiction
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✨Enchant Me Chapter 2: The First Date✨
Series Masterlist
A/N: I love writing this series so much and can’t get over how cute these two are 🥹 I can’t wait to hear your thoughts on this one and hope you enjoy!!
Chapter Summary: You and Joel go on your first date 💜
Pairing: Joel x witchy fem! reader
Word Count: 9k
Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)
Chapter Tags: Mutual pining, flirting, first date, Joel buys reader a flower, Joel visits reader’s tea shop, star gazing, first kiss, falling in love, so much fluff, chapter is in both Joel and reader’s POV
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
Joel can’t seem to keep his mind focused the next day at work. He only thinks of you, your hypnotizing eyes, your beautiful smile, your sweet, delicate soul. It’s all he sees, all he hears as your infectious laugh floats dreamily through his mind. It’s you. You, you, you.
He needs to see you again, needs to hear your melodic voice as you talk endlessly about your love of roses and teas. He can’t stop smiling, can’t stay still as he paces back and forth restlessly inside his wooden shop. Tommy doesn’t take long to catch on as he knows something’s up.
“Joel, you alright there? You’ve been pacing back and forth this entire mornin’. And your face, are you actually smilin’?” he laughs as he leans up against the register and slicks his long, greasy styled hair back.
“Everything’s good, Tommy. Just peachy,” Joel calls from across the store as he comes up to the worn register, meddling mindlessly with a stack of colorful pens in a glass cup that sits next to the computer screen.
“It’s her, ain’t it?” he smirks.
“Who?” Joel asks like he has no earthly idea what Tommy is rambling about, but he sure as hell knows who he’s talking about. He’s talking about his enchantress.
“You know damn well who I’m talkin’ ‘bout, Miller,” he smirks with a raised eyebrow as he points his index finger at Joel. A sure sign that he caught him in a lie. “The girl you delivered that table to. I told ya, didn’t I? She’s a beauty that one.”
Joel runs a hand through his unruly curls and stares at the linoleum floor, eyes slowly reaching up to meet Tommy’s view. He sighs, knowing lying won’t do him any good. “Yeah, it’s her. She really is somethin’ unique. She’s gorgeous,” Joel gushes as a small smile curls against the edges of his lips, his cheeks turning slightly red as he imagines your soft smile, your gentle touch, your eccentric beauty, your everything.
“Oh, man. You’ve got it bad, brother. Look at you blushin’ and smilin’ just thinkin’ ‘bout her,” he teases as he hits Joel playfully in the arm. “You gonna see her again?” he asks with his eyebrows knitting together, eyes hounding Joel for more information.
Joel doesn’t even take a second to contemplate his answer, he just lays it out flat. “Yes.” There’s no question about it. “You know she has a tea shop just a few minutes up the street?”
“No, I didn’t. That seems to suit her perfectly though. You should stop by at lunch today. Go see her,” he encourages Joel.
Joel contemplates his options carefully. Would you want to see him? Is it too soon? No, definitely not too soon. He paces back and forth for a minute, flexing his fingers together as nerves pull in his stomach. When he stops at the counter again, he makes a decision.
“You know what, Tommy? I think I will,” he decides.
Tommy comes around the register and gives Joel a strong pat on the back. “Proud of you, brother. Go get her,” he smirks.
Right as the clock hits noon, Joel practically runs out the door as he unlocks his truck and starts the engine up. The truck roars to life as he drives it carefully out of the empty parking lot and into the busy streets of Austin.
The day is sunny and warm, the wind barely blowing as its howls echo through the dry air. He stops at a red light and taps his fingers against the leather steering wheel, eager to get to the tea shop, to you.
In just a few short minutes, he’s pulling up to the parking lot of his destination. The place he’ll find you, his enchantress.
As he gets out of the truck and closes the door, he takes in the dainty sign that reads Starlight’s Corner. The sign is a light shade of purple, a little crescent moon in the corner of the S as it sits neatly above the storefront.
When he walks in, chimes carry softly through the lit up store as he passes through. A golden moon star crystal suncatcher hangs right next to the glass door, carrying sparkling beams of light that make little shadows appear against the cream colored walls.
“Be right out!” you call from the back of the store as you hear the wispy wind chimes call your name. “Just finishing up this batch of tea. I’ll be right with you!”
Just the sound of your voice makes his skin crawl with goosebumps. He loves the sound of it, a sweet heavenly sound he could listen to all day long. It’s so very dreamy, misty.
He walks around the quaint little store, taking in the whimsical surroundings that fill your space. Tall white shelves line each corner as decorative tea cups and kettles sit displayed in neat rows. Pictures of green forests, colorful butterflies, and different phases of moons paint the walls in a sea of vibrant colors. Bags of all kinds of herbal teas sit out amongst the front of the butcher block counter.
Joel traces his fingers over a row of books that are all about the history of tea and then his eyes slide along the back counter where different containers of brewed tea sit out for customers to buy. The air smells like home baked goods and cinnamon as a plate of sugar cookies and blueberry scones sit wafting inside a closed up container by the register.
He takes another walk around the little shop and smiles to himself as he trails his finger along a dark display case of sparkling crystals that seem to glisten in his eyes. The vibrant orchid flowers spilling over the edges as he remembers you telling him about these kinds of flowers yesterday. He shakes his head, chuckling quietly at how much you probably love this little shop. This place is so unique, special. It’s so very… you.
“Hi, there. What can I…” your voice trails off as soon as you see him. Joel.
Joel turns around and faces you, his breath catching as soon as he sees your face. Today you’re in a light pink sundress, the skirt just barely grazing the bottom of your creamy thighs. The strapless v-shape of the dress dipping as it hugs your soft curves perfectly. Your hair is down today, silky locks ending in soft curls as they kiss your shoulders.
Your lips are berry stained red, glittery eyeshadow raining down as the glitter seems to bring out the vibrant colors of your eyes even more. And then that soft smile pulls at your lips when you realize it’s him. He thinks he’s about to fall to his knees, thinks you’re absolutely stunning, a vision only the gods should be worthy of.
Joel thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. The prettiest enchantress he’s ever laid eyes on. Enchant me. The words echo through his head on repeat like a broken record. He would be so lucky if you were his. So very lucky. He just had to have you.
Please, be mine. Be mine.
“Oh, Joel,” you say with a lilt to your soft tone. “Hi.” You give him a dreamy smile and bat your long eyelashes at him. It nearly takes him out.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he drawls out, a sideways smile appearing lazily over his mouth. You can’t seem to take your eyes off him.
“Didn’t expect to see you here. What are you doing here?” you ask as you stand behind the counter smiling up at him.
He clears his throat and rolls the sleeves of his green button-up flannel up, walking over toward you as he places his hands on the edge of the counter. “Thought I’d drop by on my lunch break to see your shop. I was cravin’ some of that delicious sweet tea you made yesterday, was hopin’ you’d have some brewed up when I got here,” he smiles, making tingles run clear down your spine.
“Oh, you liked my tea so much you just had to stop by today?” you flirt, your eyes beaming into his as he stands right across the counter from you, so close but not close enough.
“That’s right, darlin’. Couldn’t stay away from that pretty face of yours,” he blushes as he runs a hand straight through his curls, feeling the back of his neck burn with heat.
He never flirted like this before with anyone. Not until he met you.
“Oh,” you giggle, feeling your cheeks turn pink. “What’s your favorite kind of tea? I have plenty of flavors,” you say as you move your arm to the back counter and trail your fingers over each container. “I have anything from chai tea to green tea to black tea to sweet tea and so much more.”
Joel watches you move along the back counter as your dress swishes around you fluidly. He thinks you look like you belong in a painting, a masterpiece at best with the way your hair falls over your shoulders and your sun kissed skin from the garden seems to glow in the haze of the store lights.
“I usually just get sweet tea, but I’d take anything, darlin’. Give me whatever you think I’d like best,” he says easily.
You purse your lips and let your eyes fall over his tanned arms and soft brown eyes, his thick fingers sprawled over the edge of the counter as you have to fight yourself to not reach your hand out to his. You quickly assess him, taking your best guess.
“Hmmm,” you hum. “Do you like peach flavored drinks?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Perfect. I think you’ll like this one then,” you answer as you grab a compostable cup and fill it with your specially made herbal peach tea that you put a little extra love and care into making today. You turn and hand Joel the cup as his fingers graze along yours, making your fingertips tingle with fiery sensations.
You watch him tilt his head back as his curls fall into a tousled heap. You watch the orange liquid slowly disappear as he gulps it down, leaving half the cup empty. He wipes his mouth clean and sighs as he looks back up at you, his caramel eyes beaming into yours. “Sweetheart, I don’t know how you do it, but your tea is the best thing I’ve ever tasted. You’ve got a gift.”
You bat your eyelashes at him and shake your head nonchalantly. “You’re too kind, Joel. Here, let me pour you some more.” You grab his cup and fill it back to the rim, carefully handing it over to him as he takes it with a thank you leaving his mouth.
“Here,” he says as he digs in his wallet and takes out a five dollar bill, placing his closed fist on the counter as he tries to give you money.
“Oh, no, Joel. You don’t owe me anything,” you say as you try to wave him off.
“Gotta pay for it, darlin’. Here, take it,” he insists as he pushes his hand further over the smooth wooden counter.
“No, really. Joel, don’t. I don’t want your money,” you say, refusing the green bill as you place your hand gently over his, pushing it back toward him.
He feels your smooth hand slide over his as your soft skin mixes into the roughness of his. He swears his heart skips a beat as you hold your hand over his. He’s unwilling to move, unwilling to do anything except stare into your breathtaking eyes.
“You sure, sweetheart?” he asks with knit eyebrows as he leans into your gentle touch.
“Positive. Consider it my special discount,” you wink playfully. “You can come get tea whenever you like, Joel. I don’t want your money though.”
“No? What do you want then?” he asks as he leans against the counter, your hand still clasped over his tightly as you lean closer to him.
“Just your company is enough for me,” you say quietly.
You feel the room suddenly go still as you’re so very close to him now. So close that just an inch more and you’d be grazing your lips against his. You can almost taste his flavor, peach tea collecting on his lips as you see the sheen liquid cover his bottom lip. He looks so inviting, so very tempting. And you’d really like for him to break the distance and kiss you now.
Kiss me. Please, kiss me.
Suddenly the moment is broken as you hear the door chime loudly as a customer walks in. You pull your hand away from Joel’s and watch him take a few steps back, fingers dragging through his salt and pepper scruff as he takes a breath and moves out of the way of the front of the counter.
“Hi, welcome in,” you smile, feeling your cheeks burn red from the interrupted moment between you and Joel. You wish it wouldn’t have been interrupted. Would he have kissed you? It seemed like he kind of wanted to.
You look up and see who it is, noticing one of your favorite customers as he walks in with a button-up yellow Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts. “Oh, Tony! Nice to see you,” you shout as he comes over to give you a quick hug hello.
“There’s my favorite tea maker! Mary said to tell you hello. She’s out sick today with a bad cold, so I thought I’d grab her some of her favorite tea,” he announces as he pushes the wide rimmed gold glasses up to his nose, his grey hair fluffing up from the wind.
“Oh no, poor thing. Tell her I’m thinking of her. Here, take a scone for her. I know she loves them.”
Joel watches the interactions between the older man and you, observing the way you carefully package up a blueberry scone and get a gallon of green tea prepared. He trails his hand along one of the glass displays with intricate tea sets inside and watches the way you smile carefree as you cash the man out and talk fondly of your garden.
“You will have to drop by sometime to help Mary with her sunflowers. The poor things dried up immediately last spring when she planted them. I know she’d love your company,” Tony says as he takes the white sack of scones and grips the gallon of green tea in his other hand steadily.
“I’d love to! Anytime she wants me to come help her in the garden, just give me a call. I’d be more than happy to help. They probably just needed a little more shade and water. A little love goes a long way,” you smile.
Joel stares at you, watching the way your infectious smile seems to light up the room as you talk of sunflowers and gardening. He thinks you’re so soft, so gentle the way you care for others. And you’re so sweet. Sweeter than the peach tea Joel just drank down. The tea that you gave him.
Soft. That’s exactly what you are, and Joel can’t help but to fall harder for you in that moment. His little enchantress. You enchanted him.
When the customer walks out the door and the wind chimes stop singing, Joel moves back up to the counter and places his cup full of peach tea down on the smooth surface. He pushes a curl out of his face and starts the conversation up again.
“Thanks for the tea again, sweetheart. You didn’t have to give it to me for free,” he chuckles as he embeds his fingers into the edge of the wood.
“Joel,” you give him a knowing look, “you heard me. Please, just take the tea,” you laugh, crossing your arms over your smooth dress as you smile over at the man with pretty brown eyes.
“Fine. But I owe you,” he states adamantly as a brow lifts in place.
“What do you possibly owe me?” you laugh, letting it echo across the doorway.
“A date.”
Your lips fall open as you suck in a breath. A date. He wants to take you on a date.
“A date?” you ask nervously, hands now fidgeting with your crystal necklace as you try to not bite your lip as nerves flood your insides.
“A date,” he nods, confirming the words. “What about tonight? You doin’ anything tonight?” he asks as his big chocolate eyes look at you with hope pulling in those lavish eyes.
“I was just planning on making some spaghetti tonight, but I’d love it if you came for dinner? Will you come for dinner?” you ask with hope running through your veins.
Please, come for dinner. Let me show you my world.
“Darlin’, I’d love nothing more,” Joel smiles, brown eyes clashing into yours. You’d never been so excited to cook dinner for someone. “But I’m not lettin’ you cook alone. I’m helpin’. Just tell me what to bring and I’ll bring it.”
“How about you bring some French bread? That’ll do. I have all the other ingredients I need at the house,” you say with your fingers knotting into the skirt of your dress.
He’s coming for dinner.
“Alright, French bread it is,” he nods. “How’s 6:30pm sound to you?”
“Perfect,” you beam.
“Perfect,” Joel echoes back.
Joel looks at the time on his black military watch and huffs out a breath. “Well, I gotta get back to work. Got a customer coming in a few minutes to pick somethin’ up,” he sighs as he picks up his cup of peach tea and taps his fingers against the counter. “Thank you for the tea, sweetheart. Nothin’ tastes as sweet as your tea,” he says sweetly as his eyes flick down to yours.
“You’re welcome, Joel. I’ll be sure to make you some more,” you smile.
His eyes trail over your soft hands then back into your glowing eyes, eyes he wants to wade in forever. He gives you one more smile then starts to head for the glass door, eyes roaming over the room until he gets to the doorway and looks back your way.
“See you tonight, little enchantress.” He winks your way and then disappears out the door, dragging your heartstrings along with him as he leaves your heart beating wildly for him.
You lean against the counter and rest your chin in the palm of your hand, sighing as you watch Joel pull out into the busy street and disappearing down the road. You can’t wait to see him tonight.
You’re having a date with Joel Miller. This was the most exciting day of your life.
You open the purple shutters and crack the windows, letting the burning sage flood out into the crisp evening air as you light lavender candles in the space of the dim lit living room. Soft music plays through the air as the smell of blueberry muffins cooking in the oven waft through the lit up kitchen. As you pass Oliver in the long hallway, you bend down and scratch behind his orange ears before you pad off to your bedroom.
The scent of vanilla lingers through the room as the blown out candles still drift softly through the air. You turn the overhead light on and stand in front of your mirror, smoothing out your pink sundress and slipping the bristles of the sparkly pink brush through your soft locks of hair.
You touch up your makeup and paint some glossy red lip gloss over your lips, puckering them together before taking one last look at yourself. You straighten the crystal amethyst necklace on your neck and spritz a dash of lavender perfume on before you spin in a circle and decide you’re ready. Joel will be here any minute.
You turn off the lights and leave the room as the timer on the oven goes off, signaling the muffins are finished baking. You shove some scarlet oven mitts on and take the muffins out, setting them on top of the stove to let them cool off. They’re fresh, fluffy, and smell delicious. You just hope Joel would love them. Maybe he’d want to take some home with him.
Just as you start to boil some water and set the various ingredients out for the spaghetti, you hear the rumble of his truck and see his bright headlights shine through the window. He’s here. You see the truck lights go off and hear the squeak of his leather boots against the front porch, and then he’s knocking on your front door.
Your heart starts beating incredibly fast as you pad over to the door and open it quickly, almost letting out a gasp at how good he looks. His tousled curls are slicked back with gel holding them in place, his flannel forgotten as he wears a denim button-up shirt with the top two buttons undone, exposing his large neck as tanned skin peeks through. Dark washed jeans cling to his strong legs, and you can’t help but stare at what he holds in his hand. A single red rose.
He brought you a rose.
“Hey there, sweetheart. Don’t you look pretty,” he gushes as he holds out the blood red rose for you, his smile lingering on his handsome face as his deep brown eyes stare back at you endearingly. You reach your hand out and take it, letting your fingers brush over his as a chill runs through your insides.
“You got me a rose?” you ask quietly, completely melting at the fact that he even thought to get you one.
“I did. I saw it in the store when I was picking up some French bread, and it just got me thinkin’ of you.” He blushes shyly and brushes past your shoulder while you close the door behind him, watching him set the bread down on the little oak table in the corner.
It got me thinkin’ of you. Joel’s so charming, so sweet.
“Thank you. That was really sweet,” you smile dizzily as you inhale the sweet scent and set it down on your glass coffee table.
“It was nothin’. Consider it a small token of my appreciation for the tea today,” he replies, eyes finding yours as he walks into the kitchen. “Blueberry muffins? Now how did you know those were my favorite, darlin’?” he grins as his eyes roam over the fresh muffins and then back up to you.
“I was hoping you’d like them. Go on and try one. I just took them out of the oven a few minutes ago,” you say as you walk to the edge of the counter, your hands sliding over the smooth surface as you watch him pick one up and take a bite.
You watch him swallow the first bite and it’s like his eyes light up as they go wide, turning slowly toward you as he parts his plush lips. “These are the best muffins I’ve ever tasted! Holy shit. What all did you put in these?” he asks as he takes another large bite until it’s completely gone.
“Oh, you know. Just my love and care,” you giggle as you let the flirtation flit through the air.
He just shakes his head as you hear him chuckle, the sound reverberating through your soul. “Well, sweetheart, they’re incredible.”
“I’d make you some anytime you wanted,” you say quickly without even thinking. He just smiles and nods, the edge of his lips curling up to expose a dreamy smile.
He’s so handsome.
“Might take you up on that,” he laughs.
“So, dinner?” you ask as you wind around to the stove and start to pour the noodles into the boiling water. “If you want to open the can of marinara sauce for me, I’d really appreciate it. Need a big, strong man to twist the lid off for me,” you flirt, giggling to yourself as you internally kick your feet in the air.
“That so, darlin’?” he laughs as he grabs the can and twists the lid off with almost no effort. It’s too easy for him.
You shake your head and smile to yourself. “Made it look too easy.”
“Nah. Was a piece of cake,” he shrugs. “Maybe you just need a man around here more often. You know, to help ya out if you need help fixin’ something or something breaks or just need a pair of hands to help you in the garden.”
“Oh, really? Think I know anyone that would want to do that?” you ask, smiling as you finish mixing the noodles in, letting them simmer over the boiling water.
“I don’t know, darlin’. Might just ask whoever you gave that purple rose to,” he smirks.
He’s flirting and he’s funny and he’s so charming. You like him so much already.
“Maybe I will,” you say shyly back, the smile staying on your face as you spend the next half hour preparing dinner with Joel.
The two of you pass each other by, sliding against the back of the counter as your hands gently brush one another’s, your hip bumping up against his as small apologies and infectious smiles fill the little kitchen space. His eyes never quite leave your face as he chops some tomatoes, his sappy brown eyes flicking up to yours every few seconds. And you can’t stop laughing, can’t stop smiling as he tells you silly little jokes and sends sweet compliments your way.
You think you like this. Having someone to cook with, to laugh with, to have fun with. You’ve barely scratched the surface with Joel, and it’s like it’s as clear as day. You two would be the perfect match. He compliments you so very well, and you’ve already decided you wouldn’t mind if he’d just come back again and again and again.
When dinner is finally served, Joel sits next to you at the wooden oak table and brushes his knee against yours as you take a bite of the marinated spaghetti. It’s delicious, the spice really bringing out the rich flavors of all the ingredients. You see Joel take his first bite, watching him closely as his eyes get wider the second he lets the noodles slide down his throat. You let out a giggle as your knee lightly knocks against his.
“Sweetheart, I’ve gotta say everything you touch is magic. Your tea, your muffins, your spaghetti. Everything,” he drawls proudly as he takes a sip of the hibiscus tea you made just for him.
“You helped me cook dinner,” you reply with one eyebrow arched up as you spin your fork around the thin noodles.
“Yeah, but still. Your creations in the kitchen are to die for,” he smiles as he takes another big bite. The red sauce spills down his chin and without thinking you reach your thumb out and wipe it off, placing your finger in your mouth as you lick it clean. He puts his fork down and just looks at you, eyes fixed intently on your lips as you feel warmth flood your cheeks.
“Sorry,” you inadvertently apologize, pushing your hand under the table as you latch on to the hem of your dress. Why did you do that?
“S’alright. Nothin’ to apologize for, sweetheart.”
There’s a heaviness in the air. Something like thick tension and slight fog that wraps around your head. He scoots his leg over and it gently brushes over yours as you feel tingles slide along your entire leg, feeling your nerves fire off as you quickly break the tension.
“Right…” you trail off, eyes going back to the plate of spaghetti. Just before you twirl more noodles on your fork, Joel reaches out and drags a thick finger over your shiny crystal hanging from your neck, making you gasp at the contact.
“S’pretty. What kind of crystal is it?” he asks curiously as his thumb drags along the smooth edges of the crystal.
“It’s amethyst. One of my favorite kinds of crystals,” you fawn as your eyes stare into those deep pits of honey warmth. Swooning as his fingers continue to graze the necklace. His eyes flick up to yours as a smile tugs up the corners of his mouth.
“I guess I should’ve known by now. It’s purple and it makes those pretty eyes of yours glow even brighter, little enchantress,” he calls out, making your insides coat with warmth.
Little enchantress.
He’s so dreamy.
“Oh, thank you,” you quietly respond as you feel your cheeks redden from his lingering eyes. “You always have a way with words, don’t you?”
“It doesn’t take much, sweetheart. You’re just very… beautiful is all,” he smiles.
Beautiful? Oh. Oh my.
“Beautiful…” you repeat back, lost in a daze as his words repeat over and over in your brain in a never ending cycle.
“That’s right. Beautiful.”
There’s that tension again. The one that makes your head swim and your heart race a million miles per hour. And there’s those eyes again. Those deep brown eyes that seem to stare straight into your longing soul. His foot curls under yours, the side of his thigh pressing heavily against yours. A simple affection that makes your heart spiral out of control.
For a second you think he might lean in, but then he clears his throat and sits up straighter as he notices Oliver tip-toeing under the table as his little feet pad against the dark wood.
“Hi, Oliver,” you say with a greeting as you reach down to rub his furry head. Joel just watches you, a smile tugging at his mouth as his eyes wander back down to Oliver. “You gonna go say hi to Joel?” you ask as he steps over to Joel and rubs up against the edge of his ankle, purring his hello as he heads into the kitchen.
“He definitely likes you,” you nod as you find Joel chuckling to himself.
“Yeah, you think so?”
“I know so,” you confirm.
Another deep chuckle rumbles out of his chest as he shakes his head in disbelief. “Sarah would never believe this.”
The gears in your head start to grind, bringing questions up that you don’t know the answers to. “Sarah? Who’s Sarah?” you ask cautiously as you tap the fork lightly against the glass plate.
“Oh,” he says with a nervous expression as he slides a hand through his slicked back curls. “She’s uh… well, she’s my daughter,” he says quietly as he looks up through the fringe of his dark eyelashes.
Daughter? He has a daughter?
“I didn’t know you had a daughter,” you say sweetly, lips curling into a smile as it seems to relax his stance. “How old is she?”
“She just turned twenty this year. She’s a sophomore in college now. My little girl is growing up,” he says as he bites his lower lip, probably trying not to get too emotional as he thinks about it. He must be such a good father. That smile. That majestic, radiant smile. He must love her so much. He is a good father.
“Do you have a picture of her?” you ask, trying to dig inside his chest and find out every single thing about him.
“Oh, yeah. Got one on my phone, just a second,” he says as he digs in his pocket and pulls out his phone. He scrolls through his camera roll and stops on one picture as he holds the phone out to you. “That’s me and her last summer at the lake. She’s almost as tall as me,” he laughs casually.
You look at the picture and take in the surroundings. Clear blue water, bright skies, and kayaks. Joel stands in a light blue t-shirt and black swim trunks, and his daughter stands next to him. Tall, thin, long curly hair that passes down to her shoulders. They look so happy in the picture. He must love her a lot.
“She’s really pretty,” you smile.
“Yeah, she is,” he beams, his crooked smile pushing a dimple into view as you nearly swoon at the sight.
He’s so handsome.
Thoughts of her mother come into focus. A mother. Was Joel married before? Was she still in the picture? Was he still seeing her? You push down the negative thoughts and press on. “And the mother? Is there… is there anyone in the picture?” you ask cautiously, stepping over lily pads in a crocodile infested swamp.
He huffs out a sigh and shakes his head. “No. She uhh… she left a couple days after Sarah was born. Said she never wanted to be a mother, didn’t want the responsibility of her. So she left her with me. Haven’t seen her since.”
She left? How could anyone want to leave Joel? He’s so good, so perfect. You couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to leave him.
He chokes back a muted response, and you see just the slightest hint of a wet tear swimming in his eye. You didn't want to upset him, you never want to upset him.
You slide your hand on top of his and curl your fingers around him. “I’m so sorry, Joel. That must’ve been so awful. I can’t… I can’t even imagine anyone wanting to leave you or her. I’m so, so sorry,” you apologize through thick words, knitting your brows together as a look of concern washes over your face.
He leans forward, placing his other hand on top of yours as he squeezes gently. “No, don’t apologize, darlin’. S’not your fault she left. It was probably for the best. Me and Sarah got along just fine without her. So don’t worry. I’m alright,” he responds as he slowly gulps a lump down in his throat. He might say he’s okay, but you can see just a tad of sadness behind those honey eyes. And you want to take that away, make the pain go away forever.
“I just hate hearing that. How could she hurt you like that? I couldn’t… I wouldn’t ever do that to you.” You freeze, realizing just what you said as fear strikes your insides. You said too much. You said too much.
As if he sees the fear inside your eyes, he squeezes the top of your hand as a gentle smile spreads wide over his beautiful face. “No, I don’t imagine you would, sweetheart.”
You blush at that, and he continues on. “But enough about that. What about you?” he asks curiously, eyebrows raising as he waits for an answer.
“What about me?”
“How can a gorgeous girl like you not be taken by someone already?” he asks, patiently waiting as his fingertips brush lightly over yours.
Gorgeous. There’s that word again.
“Oh, it’s been a while since I’ve dated, really. Guys aren’t… well, guys these days aren’t very nice. My last ex told me I was ridiculous for collecting crystals and spending my days in the garden. Kinda hurt my feelings,” you say quietly as you purse your lips and knit your eyebrows together, trying not to get too in your head over the whole ordeal.
“Ridiculous, huh? That boy was a fool,” Joel spits as anger flashes like fire through his eyes. “Any boy who broke your heart had no idea what a sweet, beautiful girl you are. Frankly, they’re fuckin’ blind. I mean look at you. You’re the most stunning girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. Your gardening and collections make you unique. And you are, you’re so unique. You shine so bright like a diamond in the rough, little enchantress,” he purrs, his honey eyes melting into yours as you nearly sink to the floor in a wet, muddled puddle.
Unique, diamond in the rough, stunning, beautiful.
Soft. He’s so soft.
You’re speechless, mouth hanging open as your eyes water over. He’s so good, so very gentle and sweet. And if you hadn’t fallen for him before, you sure as hell have now. Soft. Joel is so… soft.
“I… uh… thank you, Joel,” you whisper out, nearly tumbling over your own words as you try to get a hold of yourself.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
He holds your gaze and slowly squeezes your hand again as his knee knocks gently against yours. You look over at the clock and see that it’s nearly 9:00pm. About the time when all the fireflies are out dancing in the flower fields. You get the perfect idea then as you straighten up in your chair.
“Do you want to go see the stars?” you ask excitedly, eyes getting big at the thought of Joel stargazing with you.
“See the stars?” he asks with an intrigued expression over his warm face.
“Yeah, in the backyard. They’re so pretty out here, and tonight there’s barely any clouds so you can probably see the Big Dipper,” you smile.
Please, say yes. Take my hand and watch the stars with me.
“Yeah, I like stars,” he confirms with a nod. “Gonna teach me a thing or two about the constellations?” he asks eagerly as a warm smile slips beautifully over his handsome face.
“What do you think?” you smirk, eyes full of wonder as he takes you in.
He chuckles, pulling back his chair as he stands and holds his hand out to you. “Well, c’mon then, enchantress. Show me your world,” he smiles.
Show me your world. He wants to see your world. He wants to know you. The real you.
You smile and grab a large blue blanket as you let him lead you out the back door, your hand in his as he holds it tight. It feels good, feels warm, feels so right in yours. And you know then that this is more than a date. He’s someone you want to keep seeing again and again and again. And you hope he stays, you hope he wants to stay for you.
Please, stay.
You walk ahead of him and keep your hand curled around his, leading him down the cobblestone path as you make your way under the wooden garden arbor. The green vines catch your shoulder as you walk past, and the red rose bushes blow gently through the night breeze.
LED lights glow along the winding path as fairy lights glow in the near distance, their lights bursting through tall flower beds and scented rose lilies. Tree frogs sing their night song as crickets chirp back and forth through the green grass, their voices echoing in the distance as you continue walking through your dreamy garden.
You feel Joel’s eyes roam around your colorful garden, wildflowers sprawled every which way as shades of blue, pink, purple, red, and every other color meets your gaze. A look of surprise and maybe even wonder flit past his eyes, his mouth opening as he takes in the glowing fairy lights and the flickering fireflies that dance all through the painted flower beds.
“Wow, this is really somethin’. Looks like I stepped into a fairytale,” he laughs as his brown eyes land on you. “You did all this?”
“Mhm,” you nod as you stand still and look around the lit up garden, your hand falling from his as you trail your index finger over a soft white tulip in the ground. “It’s my own little sanctuary.”
“Must’ve taken you a long time, I’m guessin’,” he answers as he drags a hand through his wind blown curls, looking so ridiculously good as his eyes train on you.
“Yeah, but it was worth it. I still have a lot I want to do. Like I still need to find a bench that I can place right over there.” You point to the middle of the garden, right in front of tall vines of grapes and berries as a bundle of sunflowers sit behind that.
Joel flicks his eyes to where you point and then back to you. “Oh? You been lookin’ for one?” he asks curiously as he crosses his arms and takes one step forward, his leather boots crunching in the lush green grass as he takes another. One step closer to you.
“For quite some time,” you sigh.
“Anywhere particular you’ve been lookin’?” he asks with one eyebrow cocking up, taking one step closer to you as he crunches against the soft ground.
“I’ve looked everywhere it seems. I’ve been to every hardware store around town, looked at endless websites until I scrolled through every page I could. Just nothing has stood out to me. Guess I just haven’t found what I want yet,” you say quietly, another huff leaving your chest as you stare at the vacant spot where you envision the perfect wooden bench.
Joel stands there looking where you are and then back at you, feet shifting their weight against the ground as he gulps before asking. “What do ya want?” he asks softly, eyes trailing over to you as you slowly turn and grin up to him.
“I don’t know. I guess I envision maybe a teak garden bench where the sides are open. Maybe flowers somewhere on the bench. Something more personalized than anything else I’ve seen. I just want it more… me. You know?” you say dreamily as you daydream about the perfect garden bench.
Joel looks at you carefully, eyeing you closely as you gaze around the lit up garden. His lips twitch, but no words come out of his mouth. He’s thinking hard about something, gears grinding in his head of things you can’t quite discern. But he looks like he wants to say something, maybe even do something.
Something swirls in his eyes as his eyebrows thread together and his fingers flex against his palm, concentration seeping through his broad shoulders. He wants to tell you something, but he just grits his teeth and shakes his head. Whatever he wanted to say was gone now.
“Well, enough about that. Come on, the best viewing spot is over here.” You hug the blanket closer to your chest as you lead him to an open field with wildflowers spread in a big circles around you, encumbering you with floral scents that you can almost taste flying through the thick air. You lay the blanket out carefully and sit down, patting the spot next to you as Joel quickly joins you on the blanket, his body just a few inches from yours.
Joel looks up as the stars shine bright in every direction, encasing the dark sky in trickles of light. “Wow. You definitely don’t see stars like this in the middle of the city,” he says with awe as he leans further back against his hands, his button-up pulling at his bulging biceps.
“Yeah. That’s why I love it out here so much. You can see the stars every single night, and it’s just absolutely lovely.”
You lay back against the soft blanket, your head resting on the ground as you sigh and take in the sparkling stars in the sky. They seem to shine extra bright tonight, like diamonds in the sky. And maybe it’s because Joel’s here, like the stars know it’s an extra special night. Your first date, the best night you’ve had in a long time.
“Hey, isn’t that the Big Dipper?” he asks as he points high in the sky, finding the biggest and brightest star in the night sky. And he’s right. It is the Big Dipper.
“You’re right, that’s it,” you beam with excitement. “You know about stars?” you ask as he looks down at you while he leans against his elbows.
“Just a little. Not anything like you though. You’re probably an expert in that too, aren’t ya?” he asks with an amused look on his face.
You shrug, giving him a shy smile as you dig your fingers into the blanket. “I mean, I do know a lot. I have a couple of books on stars,” you blush nervously, not wanting him to know just how much you have studied the stars in your spare time.
“Don’t be coy, sweetheart. You don’t have to hide from me. Go on now, tell me how much you know,” he coaxes as his eyes meet yours, all warm and welcoming as he smirks down at you playfully. You can’t help but giggle as he tries to ease it out of you. And that’s it, you can’t hold back from him.
“Okay then, you’re right. I do know a lot about stars. In fact, I have a few books on my shelf in my room. Might even have a telescope somewhere in my closet,” you stammer out, cheeks flushed as he stares at you silently, eyes gazing into yours.
“‘Course ya do, darlin’. Such a smart girl,” he purrs out, making you blush even more at his kind compliment.
Your eyes wander back to the sky as you search for the constellations. It doesn’t take you very long to spot one instantly as your voice grows louder than before. “Hey, look! Up there. Do you see those four stars connecting together, kind of in a slant?” you ask as you point to the sky.
Joel looks up, but doesn’t see where you point. “Where at, darlin’? Can’t quite see it.”
“If you come down here maybe you’d see it,” you laugh, your voice carrying through the wind as a lone firefly lights up over the corner of the blanket.
“Maybe you’re right,” he murmurs. He lays back against the the blanket as his shoulder brushes yours, chills running down your spine as you can smell his woodsy scent swirling all around you. It’s almost too much. He smells so good, and you wish you could bottle it up and release it all through your cozy room. Have his scent draped across your pillow so you could breathe him in every night.
“Now, show me where you were pointing again.”
You point back to the constellation as his eyes follow your finger, closely monitoring the sky as he squints just a bit and finally sees what you’re seeing. “Oh, I think I see it now.”
“That’s Aries. The ram. There’s a whole story on how Aries got its name, but I won’t bore you on that subject,” you reply, eyes floating through the stars as you try to find another one.
“You couldn’t bore me, sweetheart. You can talk about it as much as you want, doesn’t bother me. Like hearin’ you talk about things you love,” he responds with a lilt to his voice. Soft, quiet, assertive as he drops his head to the side and flicks his eyes over to you. You look over at him and smile back, eyes quickly scanning back over the sky.
“If you say so,” you giggle. You point back up to the sky and start talking about the stars, pointing out Ursa Minor as you tell him the it’s named Little Bear, going more in depth about the history as your eyes grow wide with excitement when you spot another bright star in the sky. Going on and on about the stars in the big night sky, pouring your heart out as Joel carefully listens to you.
Joel turns his head to the side, eyes trailing over your face as a smile slowly spreads across his lips. He’s captivated, fully immersed in every word you say. His eyes flick over your features, long hair spread across the blanket as your eyes seem to glow as you look up at the stars. He sees the glitter around your eyes sparkle, sees the shine of your lip gloss glistening in the moonlight.
He can’t hear the wind, can’t hear his own breathing. All he hears is your soft voice blowing through the wind, getting warped inside his mind as it sounds like a dreamy tune. Words as delicate as a lullaby as it slowly sends him in a romantic trance. All he sees is you, all he can think about is you as his mind says your name over and over and over again. He sees your beauty, your passion, your entire heart. He sees you, just you. And he knows he’s fallen. He’s fallen hard, fast. Maybe too fast, but he doesn’t care. He knows what he wants right then and that’s you. It’s you.
He drops his hand from his chest and it lands against the soft blanket, the back of his hand lingering against yours as he glides it back and forth, brushing ever so softly against your delicate skin. Your breathing speeds up, your throat catching on a sigh as he slowly digs up enough courage to slide his hand into yours, softly entwining his fingers with yours as you feel your heart start to gallop like wild horses running freely through a wide open field.
His hand in yours feels like it’s exactly where it belongs as he brushes his calloused thumb across the back of your hand, time freezing as you feel his eyes staring softly at you. “You know what you remind me of?” he asks as his thumb continues its journey over your skin, your fingers curling around his affectionately.
“What?” you whisper, eyes searching as his shoulder brushes up against you once more and his brown irises fade into yours.
“A binary star.”
You gasp. A binary star. Oh. That’s romantic.
“A binary star?”
“Mhm. Two stars that revolve around each other. Both bound together. Unable to part from the other. Rare. Special…” he purrs as he scoots closer to you, leaning closer, closer, closer until his forehead is grazing yours, brown eyes blazing into yours as his mahogany scent seems to drown you, bathe you in pure bliss as all the stars seem to fade around him. It’s just him now, only him.
“Yeah? You really mean that?” you breathe out, your chest suffocating on nerves and anticipation as he leans in closer, a tousled curl falling against your forehead.
“I mean it, darlin’. You’re a beautiful binary star. My binary star,” he smiles, breath blowing against yours as you see nothing but him. Joel, Joel, Joel.
He called you his beautiful binary star. His.
“Oh,” you quietly elate, gaze falling into his as he comes closer, closer, closer. His hand grazes your jawline, slowly sliding his calloused fingers against delicate skin. And your skin burns for him, igniting the flames as you dance in them, burn in them.
His forehead meets yours, lips brushing up against you as you feel him, smell him, breathe his air. All dizzy with mahogany and pine scents, his brown eyes locking with yours. And you swear you see entire galaxies in his eyes, Heart Nebula etched in his irises, and you see your reflection as clear as day in them. You see yourself embedded in the heart shapes. Brown, warm, calling you to him like you belong right there in his eyes.
His eyes trail down to your glossy lips, lingering there just a second as he dips lower, lower, lower until he’s hovering right there, right where you feel him the most. His eyes linger back to your eyes as you see just how beautiful he shines against the night sky. He’s the only galaxy you see now. Everything else slipping slowly away as his breath consumes you.
And then he smiles. Warm, soft, so ridiculously tender. His calloused fingers cupping your chin as he slowly sinks down. Slowly, so subtly.
“My little enchantress,” he whispers, and then he closes the distance as his lips sink down on yours.
His lips are so soft. Velvet clad lips that seem to melt against yours. The entire world goes silent as the wind seems to halt and the hum of the crickets go mute. It’s just you and Joel caught in this dreamlike, whimsical moment. It’s just you and him, all wrapped up in each other as you slot your lips and allow him access to you. He slips his tongue in slowly, delicately as he traces it over yours. Two souls dancing together as you get lost in his honeydew taste, in his warm embrace as he grazes his thumb against your cheek gently.
Gentle. He’s so very gentle with you, so careful as he continues to trace his lips over yours. You taste him, drink him down, pour yourself out to him so he’ll take all that you have to give him. You're his now as much as he is yours. And it’s in that moment that you realize this is what you’ve been waiting for your entire life. It was Joel.
You get lost in the kiss as the sparkling lights surround you, lighting up the nighttime as you stay just like that for what seems like an eternity. You don’t know how long you’ve been connected, don’t know how long his lips have lingered on yours, don’t know how long his calloused fingers stayed trailing along your jawline. But when you finally do disconnect from each others lips, he hugs your body into his chest and holds you close. Your arm reaches across his body, and you grab a hold of his button-up shirt as the soft material slips between your fingers. His hand slowly travels up, up, up until he’s covering your hand with his as he threads his fingers through yours, lacing them together like that’s exactly where they belong.
You breathe deep, inhaling his woodsy scent as you look to the stars. They seem to shine brighter now, a clear message that this is where you need to be. That Joel was a star sent from the sky just for you. Your own binary star.
“Your binary star, huh?” you ask again, wanting to hear the words come out of his mouth again and again and again.
“My binary star,” he smiles.
You seem to float away, joining the stars as you stay entangled with him on the soft blanket. Unwilling to move, unwilling to leave this perfect night. It was beautiful, it was all beautiful. And you just couldn’t stop thinking of the words that left his mouth.
My binary star.
Tags: @5oh5 @vividispunk @vvitchesh3x @strawberri-blonde @thischarmingmandalorian @r3dheadedwitch @laurrrra @nandan11 @anoverwhelmingdin @forgetmenotsexy @vie-is-punk @msjarvis @reddedmiller @vee-bees-blog @lorilane33 @mountainsandmayhem @keylimebeag @littlevenicebitch69 @lotusbxtch @thethirstwivesclub @joelmillersblog @tuquoquebrute @princesatracionera @princessanglophile @amyispxnk @jasminedragoon @akah565 @casa-boiardi @prettytulips @ezrasbirdie-main @orcasoul @vivian-pascal @dugiioh @pedrostories @cherrybombsxxx @ka-x-in
#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel x female reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel the last of us#tlou fanfiction#joel tlou#joel miller pedro pascal#soft!joel miller#soft joel miller#joel x fem! witch reader#joel x f!reader#joel x reader#enchant me#joel miller fluff#joel fluff#lots of fluff#falling in love#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedrostories#no outbreak!joel miller#no use of y/n
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Obedience
The first chance she had to escape, Dani took it. Vlad had become sloppy since imposing the obedience curse onto her. According to him, he had to test the cursed leather cuff bracelet before using it on Danny.
He'd run tests to see how long the curse was in place after taking the bracelet off. Made sure that his plan would work. He'd found the curse lasted about 2 minutes after taking the cuff off. They'd both found out that the person wearing the cuff wasn't able to take it off no matter how hard they tried.
The only reason she'd been able to leave is because Vlad had told her that as soon as she saw Danny she was to put it on him and tell him to go to him. Told her not to tell anyone about the curse. He hadn't counted on her leaving Amity Park to find someone else to help her. There were tons of heroes that would be willing to help her get the damn thing off.
#dp x dc#dc x dp#dcxdp#dpxdc#dc x dp prompt#dpxmarvel#dp x marvel#obedience curse#dani became ella from ella enchanted#sorta#tbh i just wanted more obedience curse fics#can you imagine the shenanigans that could be had by just one random bystander telling her to shut up#or runs into traffickers#before she can get help?
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"The city was empty, and the streets seemed to stretch on forever. The lights reflected weakly on wet concrete where the snow hasn’t fully set yet. There was not even one heartbeat in range, and everything was muted grays and silence.
That was all he had ever known. The freezing wind on his face, the barely acceptable temperature between functioning and shutdown, the anxiety and the fear. The mission.
Risking everything, but he had nothing.
He marched with the same courage a suicidal man risks his life. And he and Hank were so very alike."
This is the stunning, flawless, beautiful, perfect piece made by @canofworms95 for the fic Reality 101 Failure, for the occasion of the big bang! @dbh-bb2023. Thank you so much for indulging me in this project. ❤️❤️❤️
#dbh#dbh-bb2023#hankcon#canofworms95#fic#isn't this absolutely beautiful and enchanting and perfect#prepare your hearts for there's more art#that will be shared as soon as i figured out how to credit it
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Once upon a Time
The marvel version of ouat. In which Natasha Romanoff casts a curse to get her happy ending. This is a swan queen like fic. Natasha is the Regina Mills and my MC Asena takes the role of Emma Swan. A few things have changed Henry will still become Yelena because. As stated before Nat will take up the role of Regina and Asena takes up Emma's role, and everyone else's roles will fall into place. In this AU Yelena isn't Natasha's sister but her daughter. And a few things in here will be changed most of it is minor. I will be referring to this as the enchantment au and there will eventually be smut.
✰⋆｡:ﾟ･*☽:ﾟ･⋆｡✰⋆｡:ﾟ･*☽:ﾟ･⋆｡✰⋆｡:ﾟ･*☽
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
#natasha romanoff x reader#marvel au#avengers x reader#marvel fic#marvel smut#ouat fanfiction#ouat imagine#ouat au#enchantment au#enchantment fic:
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enchanted; sirius black
summary: "i'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home," in which the hard-headed gryffindor shocks everyone with his confession.
tags: (SFW), fluffy, soft sirius, love confessions, fast paced, she/her pronouns, third person y/n.
words: 1.0k+
speak now tracklist.
request.
he stared across the classroom as their history of magic teacher drawled on about something clearly unimportant. he watched her as she effortlessly managed to keep focus in the ever boring lecture hall. the boy's gaze flickered to the ghostly teacher, who paced above the flagstone floor as he went on yet another tangent about the great war of the giants.
he smiled to himself as he looked back to her, finding tranquility in the way she leaned over to whisper something she clearly found amusing to her friend. his own friend's amusement became white noise in the background as he made haphazard notes.
a crumpled piece of paper landed on his desk in front of him. reaching out and grasping it, he looked to his friends, who were all snickering amongst themselves as they plotted their next prank.
who're you admiring, pads? the note read conspicuously, scribbles of writing and smudged ink occupied the parchment. the writing was so very obviously james, the messy scratches and the assertiveness the worn page held was telling enough.
no one, shove off. binns is just boring. he quickly wrote back, re-crumpling the parchment up and throwing back to the messenger. subtly.
the lesson continued, as sirius' eyes grew heavy at the monotonous voice their history of magic teacher wielded. he gave the class a once over again, before he found himself staring at her profile, watching intently as she continued to swap between note taking and exchanging hushed whispers with her friends.
methodically, the clock at the front of the room ticked 'til the top of the hour, where the ghostly professor dismissed them. the entirety of the class stumbled out of the stone room, wooden benches screaming against the floor as they were pushed back.
"where were you sirius, it's like you weren't even in the room," james clapped his friend's back before swinging his arm around his shoulders.
"what do you mean?" the long haired boy played oblivious, earning a laugh from the other three boys.
"c'mon, padfoot, you've got that look in your eyes..." remus alluded wearily, matching his pace with james and sirius whilst peter remained a few paces behind.
"and what look would that be, moons?" he may as well have scoffed, as he shook his head with a chuckle.
"that look, you know, when james looks at evans," remus laughed cockily as he gripped the back of sirius' shoulders and gently shoved him forward. he laughed at his friend's joke, before denying it and continuing to venture toward his next class.
"nah mate, you looked totally whipped," peter piped up, before the four parted ways.
sirius reached his classroom, trailing behind his classmates as they were summoned into the room. he slid into a seat at the back of the room, directly behind y/n.
much like history of magic, he spent most of the lesson watchng the girl take notes and interact with her friends, going unnoticed by anyone else. lazily, he also scribbled elegantly on a piece of parchment, briefly jotting down the notes magically scribed on the chalkboard.
the class had been tasked with reading ahead for the next chapter in preparation for their exams. the room was silent, only the echoing of quills scratching on parchment was circling the atmosphere.
the girl had been skimming the book in front of her before taking notes, when she adjusted her arm, brushing the quill from her desk. it floated down to the stone tile floor, landing gently at the boy's feet.
watching the feather fall, he leaned down and picked it up swiftly,
"hey, y/n," he whispered, calling for the girl's attention without disturbing the tranquility of the room.
she turned her head toward the boy as she shifted in her chair to face him, humming in acknowledgment. wordlessly, he held out the fallen quill to her, merely smiling softly after being quietly thanked.
he smiled at the back of her head, watching as she turned around and continued her prior task without missing a beat.
he resumed scrawling notes, the activity almost becoming mindless. almost. as it wasn't long before the near silent thump of a crumpled piece of parchment landing in front of sirius broke his concentration.
thanks again, i wouldn't have noticed and completely forgot it otherwise. the note read sweetly. her voice echoed in his head as he read it, the inflections of her voice translating from the ink on the page.
the pair would not interact again until weeks later. sirius quietly followed james who strolled around on his prefect duties, not so subtly conspiring their next prank in the depths of the empty corridors.
y/n had found herself on the way back from the library, having spent too long holed up in a corner of the ancient library, desperately trying to keep on top of the masses of homework the teachers were assigning in preparation for exams. swinging her bookback over her shoulder, and looking both ways before leaving taking a cautious step out the room.
the two boys' voices echoed through the acoustic stone walls, causing the girl to freeze momentarily, deflating when she realised how non-threatening they both were. sighing, she began to walk in the direction of her common room.
"oh, y/n!" sirius bravely called out, a confused grumble from james following his friend's words.
"yes, sirius," the girl paused onced again, turning to face the long haired boy.
"i've been meaning to speak to you for some time," he approached her, waving a hand dismissively at the other boy, who left to continue his prefect rounds.
"oh? what do you need to speak with me about?" she asked rather formally, oblivion underlying her tone.
"uhm, i uh," he suddenly became hesitant, and less sure of himself, "i just need to get this off my chest," the girl's brows furrowed in confusion as he became more cryptic.
"i like you, like a lot," he spoke suddenly, the girl's jaw dropping with surprise.
"i'm sorry?" shock lingered in the air between them.
"gosh, y/n, i fancy you, i've fancied you all this time. can't you see?" he asked rhetorically.
"but you've been round the school and back," she deflected, her shock only growing as the his declaration continued. he went on to tell the girl of his far away love stricken watching.
before long the pair found themselves in one another's embrace, silently basking in the admittance of feelings for the other.
from the artist: this took me way to long to write and the quality is still horrid lmaoo. also i've come to the conclusion i can't end pieces that are meant to be fluffy.
#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐧𝐨𝐰 🔮#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐧'𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐞𝐫𝐚#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius black x yn#sirius black x you#sirius black fic#marauders era#harry potter#hpcu#harry potter universe#taylor swift#speak now#enchanted#enchanted taylor swift#speak now taylor’s version#enchanted taylor's version#fluff#sirius black fluff#short fic#all the young dudes
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Enchanted to meet you (Paul Lahote X OC)
“Shhh.” Amelia shushed her little sister Evelyn as she tip-toed down the staircase leading to the foyer. Both girls stopped before the last step, hiding behind the wall which separated them from their expected guest—well their parents expected guests.
Amelia and Evelyn were the two daughters of head of the north American coven. Well, their mother was head of the coven, their father was Fae; a simple mythical creature known mainly for their connection with nature and healing magic. It was common for Fae and witches to mingle amongst one another, as witches channeled the powers of nature for their spells and potions; much like the Fae. Procreation between the two species was a special rarity, most Fae never made romantic or sexual connections as there was no real need. You see, Fae is not made through conventional means.
If you’ve ever been out in nature, in a secluded spot where it almost seems untouched by humanity, you feel the sudden sense of calmness rushing over you. The sun seems to illuminate the world around you in a blanket of warmth and bliss, and it feels as if in that moment everything is perfect; that means a Fae was probably just born near you. The Fae believes that mother nature carefully crafts each and every Fae, their bodies created from the earth itself, and then she releases them to live their lives and protect her earth. Other species have different theories on how the Fae came to be, but no one can say with complete certainty.
This seeming species wide asexuality is why it causes everyone a shock when a Fae bares a child physically, and to do so with not only a witch but one of the most powerful witches in existence? The leader of the North American Coven? Now that creates two very interesting girls.
Amelia Boleyn is an 18-year-old halfling, those halves being part witch and Fae. She stands on the shorter side, just under 5’3—however if anyone ever called her anything less than 5’3 she’d make sure to put them in their place. She cropped her hair just above her shoulders with some rusty kitchen scissors during a slightly tipsy night she shared with her sister. Her skin was naturally on the tanner side, resembling her father’s coloring of curly dark hair and tan skin, more so than her mother’s red hair, pale skin, and green eyes. She came into her powers when she was 13 years of age, although she showed much promise with her witchcraft already being a fourth level spell caster. She much preferred dabbling in the simple powers of her father, a stereotypical daddy’s girl. She would much rather go out into the woods, lay in a field, and connect with nature rather than sit at home and stare at old grimoires.
Her sister Evelyn, however, is the opposite. She is 16 and also a halfling, her skin only a shade or two darker than her mothers, she also had her mother’s straight auburn hair and sparkling green eyes. She was also one who could spend hours sitting in her room, reading her ancestors grimoires and attempting to learn to cast new and more advanced spells, already dabbling the same level as her older sisters, but severely struggling with any Fae related magic.
The two girls are very possibly going to become two of the strongest women alive, and here they were huddled together behind a flimsy wooden wall, straining to eavesdrop on their parents’ conversation. Amelia and Evelyn both shared worried looks as they heard multiple heavy footsteps walking into the house. Their father Aeon had told them of the recent killings of magic folk in the area, forbidding them from going out alone even for the most insignificant of tasks. Whoever was responsible for the killings was targeting young adults and teens, and although they have yet to kill a Fae child or witch child, the matter needed to be dealt with.
As far as anyone could tell, going off the bodies of the victims, the killer was a vampire. Incredibly fast, and efficient killers, but not known to go after other supernatural’s. Something was brewing, and Jenny and Aeon Boleyn had made the decision to call in the only supernatural’s who were properly equipped to deal with a vampire, wolf shifters.
Amelia and Evelyn were fascinated when their father explained who was coming, and why they had to keep their distance. The northwestern shifters were notorious for being big, burly brutes with wicked tempers. Tales of the smallest disagreement turning into massive fights involving clashing canines spread like wildfire when they seemingly reappeared a few years back after being presumed extinct. To the girls, however, this made them a group of very fascinating subjects to poke and prod at—youthful stupidity mixed with curiosity.
Amelia leaned closer to the edge of doorway as she heard a somehow quiet, yet booming voice start to speak. “Aeon it’s been too long.” A small pause filled with the sound of scuffing shoes and a door closing, “I only wish this meeting was under better circumstances.” The same voice spoke again, sounding sympathetic.
“It’s so nice to see you, Sam.” Their mother’s sweet voice greeted, “It’s so nice to see all of you. Though, I do see a few new faces. Please everyone come inside and sit down I’m sure your journey has been very tiring.” Multiple deep voices muttered hellos, and then heavy footsteps followed the woman into the small living room.
Most of the men opted to sit on the grown, allowing Sam their pack alpha to sit on the couch with Jen and Aeon. They all trusted Sam when he said the couple could be trusted, perhaps it was the wolf in them that made them skeptical of the unknown but regardless of the reason, no one but Sam wanted to be too close to the two.
The two girls waited on the stairs for a few minutes, trying to strain and hear what was being said, but all they could pick up on was the low mumbling of conversation. “You think we should try to get closer?” Evelyn whispered into her older sister’s ear, her heart thrumming quickly with excitement.
Amelia considered for a moment, weighing if the risk of getting caught was worth satiating her curiosity, in the end the latter won. “Yes, but don’t make any noise. I so do not want to hear the lecture from mom and dad if they catch us snooping.”
Unbeknownst to the pair, the shifters had exceptional hearing and all of them had picked up on the quiet encounter a few yards away. Sam simply ignored the two girls, seeing no real threat in them eavesdropping, Quill, Embry, Seth, Collin, Brady, and Paul all shared sly smirks to one another—not so subtly glancing at the small door way as gentle and slow footstep inched forward.
“You should take a peek—see what they look like! “Evelyn urged faintly, Nudging her sister with her arm. “Why me? So, I’m the one who gets caught?” Amelia shot a pointed glare towards her younger, yet taller sister. “Yes! Now look, Mom said werewolves were usually all ruggedly handsome! Maybe the same applies for shifters.” Evelyn had a wicked smirk on her mouth as she envisioned a group of big burly men fresh for the pickings waiting in her living room—those teenage hormones surging through her body at the prospect.
“That’s gross, Eve.” Amelia sighed, rolling her eyes, “But I’ll do it… not because you said they were hot though.” The two sisters shared a mischievous look together, before Amelia crouched down to knee level and carefully leaned past the doorway, bracing herself on the wall so as not to fall and peering into the living room.
A not so silent profanity left her lips as her eyes met six other pairs of eyes looking directly back at her. In her shock her grip slipped on the door frame, and she tumbled into full view of everyone—including her parents. Evelyn silently died of laughter still hidden behind the wall, before quickly making her escape back up the stairs, abandoning her sister to the wolves.
“Uh—Hi!” Amelia chirper, looking around at the men in her living room, very purposely not making eye contact with her parents. “I just… uhm” Evelyn quickly looked around the floor around her, a somewhat stupid plan popping her head, but hell it was her only idea. She reached forward and grabbed a lost pen from the floor and held it up swinging it in the air. “Was just lookin for this!” As her eyes travelled back up to the unknown men, the pen almost fell from her hands.
Amelia thought it was just due to the surprise of meeting eyes with—in her opinion—the most attractive man in the room. Paul, however, felt as if he was cemented in his place, sitting on an old Abrash rug in a run-down but quaint little cottage, looking into a pair of beautiful dark eyes. A gentle click in his brain, and he knew what this feeling was, this feeling as if he had just taken off a filter from his eyes and he was finally seeing clearly. Her confused face tempting him to come closer, and to never leave. His imprint.
Everyone but Amelia could feel the shift in the air, Jen Boleyn silently screaming in her head as it dawned on her. Her precious eldest daughter being imprinted upon by a shifter? A breed who was made to kill and slaughter their enemies without a moment of remorse, she opened her mouth to speak but no words would leave her lips.
Amelia looked around at all the shocked and speechless faces, assuming this was caused solely by her interruption, her face reddened, and she quickly stood up, ignoring the slight ache in her hips where she landed. “I’m just going to go, it was nice—uh—meeting all of you!” She smiled before quickly making her exit and running up the stairs.
Amelia threw herself into her room and hopped up onto her bed. She knew she was in for it but she silently prayed to mother nature that her parents wouldn’t be too pissed about the interruption—a pointless prayer and she knew it. Remaining under her covers she shimmied off her jeans and bra and turned over towards her window. Listening to the now significantly louder voices downstairs speak and watching the pale blue clouds pass by the full moon outside. She laid there for what felt like hours, but in reality, was only thirty minutes, waiting for her parents’ lecture to come—but it never did. Instead, she was slowly lulled into one of the deepest slumbers she had in a very long time, strangely plagued by the sight of those deep brown eyes of one of the very handsome but strange young man.
#paul lahote#twilight#twilight saga#twilight fanfic#oc#paul lahote x reader#paul lahote fanfic#paul lahote fanfiction#paul lahote imagine#paul lahote x amelia boleyn#au#witch#fae#wolf pack#wolf pack twilight#twilight x oc#amelia boleyn#enchanted to meet you#imprint fic
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do ya'll remember how awkward and tense it was between Fitz and Tiergan when he first started mentoring sophie and him??
cuz I do. It's good fic material is all I'm saying...
#Fitz is like a politicians son#everywhere he goes there's already an assumption about who he is and what he's about#like how awkward is it to be taught by a guy who resents you bc of the shitty actions of your dad?#I'm not blaming Tiergan#I just think Fitz took that obvious resentment like a champ.#don't mind me just imagining a fic where everything with Alvar is sill very much at the forefront of Fitz's mind#but he goes to his telepathy practice (without Sophie)#and it's just very obvious Fitz's brain is somewhere else entirely. And Tiergan notices and they have a very stiff heart-to-heart#and idk bro- I'm just so enchanted by the thought of a Tiergan and Fitz friendship.#fitz vacker#tiergan kotlc#kotlc#kotlc headcanons
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You Left Me Scars Through Memories (Tangled in my DNA) - Prologue
"I love you so much," Stephanie Harrington says, reaching out a hand to tuck some hair behind his ear. It's more an excuse to touch than to clear his face of hair. It's at a length now that will result in the tucked hair falling back into his face with barely a shake of his head.
Steve blinks up at her from where he's sat in her lap, his face far too serious for a toddler just a few hours shy of three years old.
"Your life is going to be so difficult and it's my fault. I'm so sorry," she whispers, sweeping him into a hug. He snuggles into her embrace instantly and it brings tears to her eyes. He should hate her for what she's done. Perhaps he will, once he's older and can understand what she's apologizing for.
"I'm going to tell you a story," she settles back into the chair, a big plush thing that she sits in every night to read a bedtime story to Steve, or tries too anyway. He's at the age where he's wiggly and full of energy until he drops.
"Once upon a time, there was a man and a woman. Husband and wife. And they loved each other very much," she starts, running one hand up and down on her baby's back, soothing, "and they wanted nothing more than to have a child.
"But try as they might, no child would come to them. And soon resentment began to grow. The wife, convinced that having a child would remove the resentment, set off to make a bargain with a witch, said to live deep in the woods.
"She told her husband she was going to visit her family so as not to arouse suspicion. Consorting with witches wasn't something that was done, you see."
This is the longest Steve has sat still in her lap in months. She thinks he might be asleep but continues the story anyway.
"It took her almost three weeks to find the witch, deep in the woods. Upon arrival, the witch had tried to turn away the wife. But the wife was persistent. 'Please,' she begged the witch, 'if we can have a child then my husband will love me again.'
"The witch was not moved by this plea. 'You would bring a child into a loveless marriage?' and the wife argued that once they had a child, their marriage would no longer be loveless. The witch disagreed but the wife would not be deterred.
"'What would you give up to have this child?' the witch asked after being pestered by the wife for almost a week. And the wife had said anything.
"'Anything is dangerous,' the witch said. 'I can give you the means to have a child, but the universe will decide the price.' And so, the wife agreed, and the witch pressed a folded piece of parchment into the wife's hand.
"When she finally returned home, she had been gone for eight long weeks. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, they say, and husband and wife reunited. Still, the wife waited three more months before preforming the ritual the witch had pressed into her palm.
"Soon, they had a child, a daughter. But with her arrival came the universe's price. A life blessing is not an easy thing to give, and the price for life is the highest to pay. Free Will was that price. And when the daughter turned three, she learned her daughter also paid the price. Her daughter, and her daughter's daughter, and her daughter's daughter's son. Forever more. The wife, now mother, was angry to learn this. Why should her child have to suffer for her own sins?
"She told her husband what she had done. She had to, you see, because how else could he be expected to raise a child that would do everything you told her to? Words would need to be picked carefully.
"It was years later before the mother could track the witch down again, to demand the witch undo the curse. 'I made the bargain, why must my child also suffer the consequences?'
"'You said anything,' the witch responded, 'and I told you that was dangerous. It was foolish of you to think your actions would not affect others. All actions do.'
"The mother said, 'can it not be undone?' and the witch said, 'All curses can be broken.' When the mother asked how, the witch just looked at her and said, 'go away, and do not seek me again.' And the mother had no choice but to obey."
Steve still has not stirred on her lap and when she looks down, she can see he is asleep. Even if Steve had stayed awake for the whole story, she knows she'll have to retell it to him when he's older. When he'll remember all of it. Perhaps she should write it down, too, just in case.
"You see, Steve, what was supposed to be a blessing became a curse. One of obedience. People will tell you to do things and you will be compelled to obey. You will become someone you will never truly know, because anyone can make you anything," she says as she stands and places Steve in his bed. "But don't worry. Mommy will teach you how to trick and cheat the curse as much as you can."
#my fic#Ella Enchanted but make it 1980s and angstier#so i guess its more Obedience Curse AU than Ella Enchanted#title is tentative and taken from the Citizen Soldier song Chasing Your Ghost#steddie#eventual steddie actually#but first it would be steve x suffering#it'll be a full fic one day but like... who knows when#i should not be starting a longfic while working on my longfic for the steddie bigbang#the hubris of a fic writer i guess haha let me know if anyone else is long suffering like me#no readmore because i think its short enough to not need one
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"Bro, you know how many words I wrote per day, and how many plants I created!” Shang Qinghua whines. "I can't remember them all, it's impossible."
Shen Qingqiu narrows his eyes. "It was used with Wife #418.”
"That doesn't narrow it down any further. I'm not going to be able to guess it, so stop punishing me and just tell me how the flower nerfed you."
Shen Qingqiu grits his teeth. Obviously he wants to draw this out to punish Shang Qinghua, but it kinda looks more like he's punishing himself. There's a muscle flexing in his jaw, and if he puts any more pressure on his fan's guard, it's going to snap. Uh, actually, Shen Qingqiu kind of looks like he's in pain—
“A false dragonhead is also called an obedient plant. It’s in the name—the flower forces you to do whatever you're told," Shen Qingqiu spits out.
or: Shen Qingqiu runs afoul of one of Airplane's stupid wife-plot devices...just before a mission to Jinlan City.
ella enchanted au for @febuwhump day 4 "obedience"!
#febuwhump#febuwhumpday4#my fic#ella enchanted au#svsss#it's whump but it's also at least partially a comedy because of shen qingqiu#ough I'm so tired why is this over 11k#why can't I write short ficsssss
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