#and in polish one they tell me nicely that shes watching over the playing of the flute but also lyric poetry as well | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

joeyjoeylee · 3 months ago

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Hey! Just read that there is a sort of ch11 + Deleted Scenes for your fic Both Sides of the Law? Please post them! I love your fic so much and I keep coming back to it and each time there’s a new aspect of Brio Characterisation for me to explore. I would love to read more of your work!!

Anon, this is so nice. I can't tell you how happy it makes me that people are still reading my fic so much time later!

Yes, I (shamefully) remember posting on here that I had leftover "scraps" + vague plans for a sequel and/or outsider POV that I would pull together to post and then I just...never did. My problem is I'm so directionless with all of it, like, I go back and forward with what to concentrate on polishing, like, the when (set in the school years? time jump after it all ends?), the who (which POV?), and even the what (consider it all "scraps" for a reason and focus on totally new fic unrelated)?

Then I'm just like, "whelp, this dilemma is unsolvable, I guess my only play here is to nap instead."

However, in gratitude for your extremely nice message, here is a VERY rough snip from the Gretchen POV I constantly pick up and put down (her entire POV would cover both the timeline of the main story, then continue a year or so out, this part is from the year or so out):

XXX

Gretchen scanned over the bar crowd quickly, looking for him. Or Mick.

No luck. But she saw that blinky kid Eddie with the too-blue eyes standing guard in front of the hallway leading to the back room, so she headed his way.

When she was close, Eddie shuffled sideways from his post to allow her entry. To fuck with him, Gretchen gave him a little nod and smile in return. He blushed immediately and looked away.

Gretchen smiled to herself as she passed him. Every time.

The back room was empty, except for her cousin and Mick.

Rio was bent slightly over the pool table, cue stick in hand, his profile to Gretchen. She stood in the doorway for several long seconds and watched as he tilted his head from side-to-side, contemplating the balls scattered out on the table in front of him.

Calculating all his angles, she knew.

It looked like Rio was playing alone. Mick sat on a stool on the wall behind him, but no stick in hand, just his phone. He looked up from the phone and turned his head towards the doorway when he heard her heels click into the room though. He met Gretchen’s eyes, then tipped his chin to her slightly in greeting.

Which made him more damn polite than her cousin.

Rio acted like he hadn’t heard her walk in, like he didn’t know she was standing in the doorway. He kept his focus on the table, even as Gretchen started walking again farther into the room, putting weight in her steps deliberately to make her heels click louder. Even as she headed to a stool directly across the table from his position.

Gretchen eased up on the stool and crossed her legs, facing him in full.

But Rio still didn’t say anything, so she didn’t either.

Rio walked a little around the table instead, still considering his shot. She studied him as he did. It was a familiar sight.

Rio was good at pool. Gretchen was too. They had played together all the time when they were in high school, after their uncle Victor had bought that first bar down on St. Antoine. Their uncle had conducted business in the back while the two of them had spent countless hours practicing out front, challenging each other for difficult shots and teaming up to try to hustle their uncle’s men. They had kept at it through college and beyond. Still played together even now when they had the chance.

But Rio didn’t ask her to join him now, like he had so many times before. He didn’t rerack the balls or tilt his head towards one of the sticks to invite her to play together.

He just kept circling the table slowly, still silent.

So Gretchen waited some more.

Finally, he decided on his shot. The 7 ball, she saw, aiming for the pocket closest to her. An easy shot for a player like him, Gretchen knew.

She watched as Rio leaned over the table and lined up. His form was perfect. Just like their uncle had taught them both.

Slowly he pulled back the stick with one hand, pistoning it gently between the fingers of the other as he took aim. Then, lightning quick, the stick was snapping forward and striking the 7 ball, sending it hurtling towards the pocket.

He missed.

Gretchen flicked her eyes up in time to catch his eyebrows pull together.

For a long moment, Rio didn’t move, just stayed bent over the table. But at least he deigned to acknowledge her presence at last, his eyes raising slow to meet hers squarely across the table between them.

Gretchen blinked at what she saw then. He was angry. She could see it clearly on him now. He was angry at her.

Rio straightened up and planted one end of the stick on the ground. Now his eyes didn't leave Gretchen's face.

“Got nothing to say?” he said at last.

Everything about him was mocking. His voice, his posture, his expression. Like he was calling her on her bullshit. Like she had been the one to demand this meeting, then ignore him to parade around the table in silence.

It put Gretchen’s back up, instantly, which she knew was his intention. Drama, theatre – he used it so well.

So she forced herself not to snap back. She flicked her eyes instead to Mick, but there were no answers there.

She looked back at Rio. He was still staring at her, rotating the stick in his hands, waiting for her answer.

He wasn’t asking for her opinion on his missed shot, Gretchen knew, but she played dumb anyway to buy herself some time to feel him out.

And because despite whatever else, he was still her baby cousin. And an asshole who’d made her miss the first date she’d even halfway looked forward to in years to boot.

“Your stick wasn’t level,” Gretchen told him. She made her voice calm and evaluating, scrunching up her face in thoughtful criticism. “That made the ball curve just enough to miss the pocket.”

Behind her cousin, she saw Mick dip his head to hide a smile.

Rio smiled at her too. But without any teeth, and it didn’t come close to reaching his eyes.

He didn’t respond though. He just walked another quarter turn around the table, his eyes back down on the balls again.

As soon as he looked down, Gretchen risked shooting a longer glance at Mick, tilting her chin up to him.

What’s all this about?

Mick shrugged a shoulder to her in response.

Don’t know.

She looked quickly back to Rio.

He was lined up again. 3 ball to the side pocket. An even easier shot than his last one.

Rio hovered over the table even longer this time. His eyes flicked from the tip of the stick to the ball and back again. Gretchen watched as he adjusted his grip on the stick minutely, precise and perfect.

He took the shot.

And missed again.

Once more, his eyes flicked straight up to hers. Then he was straightening up and drawing closer, moving as fluid as water, until the table was no longer between them and he was standing right in front of her.

He was taller than her even on a good day in her 4-inch heels. Now, standing, with her still on the stool, he towered over her.

He lifted his eyebrows.

“Well?” Rio asked, quieter this time.

Gretchen looked him straight in the eye.

“You muscled the stick forward – didn’t control your shot,” she told him, steady.

This time, Rio didn’t smile. Just planted the base of the stick to the floor in front of Gretchen and folded his hands over the tip to regard her.

His eyes, the set of his jaw, the coiled stillness of him – he reminded her suddenly so strongly of their uncle.

Growing up, without fail, Gretchen and her father had spent every Sunday dinner at her Tia Teresa’s. One Sunday, not long after her mother had died, she had gone to find her father after dinner, out to the backyard where he and her Uncle Victor always smoked their cigars while the women cleaned up inside.

They hadn’t seen her approach in the twilight, hadn’t even noticed her when she had stopped only a few feet away.

So Gretchen had heard every word that her uncle had been saying.

But standing there, what had had her frozen in place and trying to seem small hadn’t been so much what Victor was saying. It had been how Victor was saying it.

And most of all, it had been how his face, usually so indulgent and warm towards her and her cousins, had looked over the burn of his cigar as he had said it.

When they had finally noticed her, Victor’s face had transformed immediately. Back to the face of the uncle she loved, back to how it always was. But Gretchen had known what she had seen.

Later that night, when her father had come to tuck her in, he had known something was wrong. He had called her Liebchen, like her mother always had, and stroked her hair, until finally Gretchen had felt brave enough to try to say it.

“Tio Victor looked scary tonight,” she had settled on at last.

Her father hadn’t tried to brush it away, to tell Gretchen she was wrong, that she hadn’t seen what she had thought she had.

“He is scary,” her father had just said simply instead. “But never to family. Never to us.”

Now, looking up at her cousin, Gretchen thought of that night again. Rio had always looked just like their uncle, and his face now was her uncle's face as it had been that night.

For a paralyzed second, Gretchen felt like she had back then when she was a kid. Frozen, and small.

Then she gave herself a mental shake and told herself to get a fucking grip.

Victor was long dead, and her father was in an advanced dementia facility that she forced herself to visit every Sunday, to sit with him all afternoon as he asked her plaintively again and again who she was.

She wasn’t a fucking kid anymore.

She heard her father’s voice again from that night. It reminded her.

Scary, yes. But never to family. Never to her.

Gretchen lifted her chin and slid off the stool, not breaking the eye contact for a second. Then she took a step closer to him and pulled herself to her full height.

“So, are we done playing games now?” she asked. She used her courtroom voice, the one she knew he hated when she used it with him. “You wanna tell me what the hell is going on?”

Rio wanted to stay silent. To make her wait some more. Gretchen could read that on him clear as day. She had known him her whole life, after all.

But she knew that he was impatient too, so she made herself stay silent too, just tilting her head back-and-forth in challenge, until finally, he relented.

“You wanna tell me what you been telling Elizabeth, Gretch? Filling up her head with?”

Beth.

Gretchen felt some of the tightness in her shoulders relax. Of course. She should have guessed, should have known. What could be making him like this.

Of course all this would have something to do with Beth Boland.

#very rough draft #asks

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mcflymemes · 2 years ago

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TAYLOR SWIFT PROMPTS * assorted lines from her albums

meet me at midnight.

i'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you.

i snuck in through the garden gate.

they say looks can kill, and i might try.

tell me to run.

sometimes i wonder which one will be your last lie.

i play it cool with the best of them.

love's a game. wanna play?

maybe we got lost in translation.

no one's celebrating.

don't say i didn't warn you.

we're dancing all night.

i didn't choose this town.

i should just tell you to leave.

you can try to change my mind.

we were both young when i first saw you.

let's get out of this town.

i might be okay, but i'm not fine at all.

i'd live and die for moments that we stole.

what would he do if he found us out?

all this shit is new to me.

i could show you incredible things.

i waited ages to see you there.

i miss you.

i should not be left to my own devices.

if i bleed, you'll be the last to know.

please don't go.

get it off your chest.

you look like my next mistake.

you told your family for a reason.

maybe i asked for too much.

can i go where you go?

i know it's long gone.

i think it's time to teach some lessons.

life will lose all meaning.

you're on your own, kid.

what you heard is true.

take me somewhere we can be alone.

everybody wants you.

boys only want love if it's torture.

nice to meet you. where you been?

one day i'll watch as you're leaving.

nothing lasts forever.

you did some bad things, but i'm the worst of them.

i don't remember.

i called a taxi to take me there.

he's gonna burn this house to the ground.

i just sit here and wait.

i can read you like a magazine.

i think i've been too good of a girl.

you might have to wait in line.

close your eyes.

the blame is on me.

save all your dirtiest jokes for me.

get it off my desk.

you started it.

the jokes weren't funny.

i think i've been a little too kind.

you're not sure which is worse.

say you'll remember me.

i'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream.

i'd like to be my old self again.

we're dead if they knew.

you've got no reason to be afraid.

by the way, i'm going out tonight.

i can picture it after all these days.

we never go out of style.

i heard you moved on.

we're young, and we're reckless.

i know you heard about me.

you were everything to me.

i've been dressing for revenge.

can we always be this close forever and ever?

i cried like a baby coming home from the bar.

no one has to know what we do.

what a shame she's fucked in the head.

my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand.

what doesn't kill me makes me want you more.

i don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you.

this is our place. we make the call.

this love is difficult, but it's real.

it must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero.

something about it felt like home somehow.

what must it be like to grow up that beautiful?

how's one to know?

i polish up real nice.

you can tell me when it's over.

do you have a man?

the worst is yet to come.

will you please stand?

don't be afraid. we'll make it out of this mess.

i dropped your hand while dancing.

this dorm was once a madhouse.

hey, let's be friends.

don't get sad. get even.

you're talking shit for the hell of it.

you'll never have to be alone.

you love the game.

it's coming back around.

i get drunk on jealousy.

where do you think she got it from?

your opal eyes are all i wish to see.

i remember it all too well.

you wouldn't know what i mean.

don't put me in the basement.

i can make the bad guys good for a weekend.

you'll come back each time you leave.

i love you and that's all i really know.

i don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch.

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mysafehaneul · 1 year ago

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IV.AQUAMARINE

CHAPTER 4: SHADOWS AND COURTS

A/N: I apologize for the late update a lot went down last week, my aunt passed away and a shit ton of family drama which left me very emotionally and mentally drained. I hope you guys like this chapter and i look forward to read your comments. Happy Reading!

P.S. Thank you for liking Aquamarine so far, every like every reblog means the world to me. I will be taking a Hiatus till October as I have my mid-terms at the end of September.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

JEON WONWOO X READER

WORDS: 8.5k+

GENRE: ARRANGE CONTRACT MARRIAGE AU! ENEMIES TO LOVERS!

Angst, Fluff, Smut (in future chapters not this one).

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Choices and changes are two things that are constant in every individual's life. Choices a person makes in certain situations can lead to a change that could be for better or for worse, yet these are the two things that no one can escape. In the gentle twilight of the city, a melancholic shadow casts a shadow over the newlyweds. The day had been a whirlwind of emotions, a crescendo of joy and celebration that now seemed to dissolve into a distant memory, like the last fading notes of a haunting melody.

The penthouse, perched high above the bustling city, offered a view that would usually have captivated anyone. Yet, for Y/N, it was merely a backdrop to the emotions swirling within her. As she stepped into the luxurious space, her heels dropped to the floor with a soft thud. The scent of freshly polished floors, infused with a subtle lemony fragrance, wafted through the air. It was Wonwoo's home, a place she had never been before, and it felt unfamiliar.

Wonwoo watched her, his eyes tracing her movements. His tie loosened, his collar unbuttoned, and he observed her with a silent curiosity. Y/N's fingers brushed against her temples, undoing the carefully arranged hairdo that had adorned her throughout the day.

"Nice view," she offered, her voice carrying a hint of detachment.

"Thanks," Wonwoo replied as he headed to the fridge. "Care for some water?"

Her head shook in a gentle decline, and she ventured further into the spacious penthouse. Wonwoo followed, his eyes never leaving her. There was a palpable change in her demeanour, an echo of a grand celebration that had given way to a profound stillness.

"The post-wedding blues," he mused, his voice a soft melody.

Y/N nodded, her gaze distant, as if searching for something lost in the past hours. She settled onto the plush couch, her fingers absentmindedly playing with her earrings.

"Why do I feel like your father hates me a little now? Wonwoo inquired, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"After the stunt you pulled today, any father ought to," she retorted, her tone laced with challenge.

Wonwoo, taken aback by her directness, cleared his throat. Y/N's audacity both intrigued and amused him.

"Well," he continued, "it was an emergency''. He couldn't help but feel a sting of guilt.

"Hmm," Y/N hummed, her gaze fixed on her earrings. "I know you're going to maintain your vices, but didn't I tell you to do a better job at hiding them?"

Wonwoo's silence was his confession.

Their eyes locked in a brief, challenging exchange that made Wonwoo realise why she was so respected in her field. She was a force to be reckoned with, a fact he had always found exhilarating.

Fiddling with her earrings again, she cleared her throat. "Wonwoo..."

"Pardon, what did you say?" he asked, momentarily caught in his thoughts.

"Room. Where is my room? I want to rest; my legs are killing me."

He was quick to respond, his voice gentle. "Ah, right. The master bedroom is the left door from straight."

"You didn't have to give me the master bedroom. We would've moved to Serene Villa by the end of next month after we brought Noel here."

The room seemed to hang in silence as he mulled over her words, the implications of what she'd said sinking in.

"Right? So where is your room?"

"Where yours is."

The confusion was clear in her eyes as she sought clarification.

"Pardon, what did you say?"

"My room is where your room is. I forgot to inform the staff to clean up the home gym."

"Home gym?"

"Yeah, the home gym used to be the guestroom."

"So?"

"So, you have to either sleep on the couch or you can take the bedroom. But don't worry; I'll sleep on the couch. You can take the room."

"Of course, I will take the bedroom, Wonwoo. You have this huge house, and you couldn't manage to clear out one room for me? That too, for just one week before we leave for Zurich... unbelievable."

He removed his blazer and started unbuttoning his sleeves, as if the act of undressing would ease his fatigue. "Listen, two weeks ago, I didn't even think that I'd get married, okay? I said you could take the bedroom. What's the big deal? And what's your family's obsession with words whose literal meaning is tranquilly?"

"What's your family's obsession with naming their projects after plants?"

"It's been seven hours since we got married, and you're already coming after families."

"Well, you started it."

"Y/n, I am tired, okay? And I'm pretty sure you are too. I'll call Alexandria to clear up the room tomorrow. So please, you can freshen up and rest in my room. Or is it that you're afraid to sleep alone?"

You sighed, your shoulders drooping as you got up from the couch. He nonchalantly placed his blazer on the counter and took a sip from the cold bottle.

He paused, a mischievous spark in his eyes, and continued, "Well, technically, it's our room now. I can even hold your hand until you fall asleep."

You didn't have the energy to entertain his playful banter. With a weary expression, you turned and headed towards the bedroom.

"Wow, not even an offer to let me sleep on the bedroom couch? He teased.

You stopped abruptly, irritation bubbling up within you. "You have 17 housing societies and 6 hotels across the country. I'm pretty sure there's a bed available somewhere in your vast empire. If not, you can always return to the hotel where you took your little drunk, Mrs. Shoddy NDA."

A sly grin tugged at the corners of Wonwoo's lips. "It's quite a unique wedding night when the wife suggests her husband sleep elsewhere. If anything, I smell a little jealousy."

"Fuck off, will you?" She retorted and slammed the bedroom door with a resounding thud.

"Asshole," she muttered behind the closed door.

The exchange left him feeling like he had just been painted with a scorching stroke of her fire, leaving his senses tingling and his ears ablaze with her presence.

...

In the hushed serenity of the midnight hour, you emerged from Wonwoo's adjoined bathroom, wrapped in one of his bathrobes. There was a subtle irony in the fact that he hadn't even bothered to ask the housekeeper to unpack your suitcase. His room spoke volumes about him, a blend of textures and shades, with its textured black wall adorned with a round mirror that emitted a soft, captivating glow from the lights behind it. The room's centrepiece was the bed, perfectly centred on an oak platform, with a grey round carpet resting beneath it.

The room was a harmonious blend of white and wood tones, creating an atmosphere that felt distinctly Wonwoo. On the left wall, two captivating paintings added depth and character, while the bathroom on the right continued the motif of black and white with impeccable finesse.

As you walked into the bathroom, you couldn't help but admire its sleek design. The colour scheme of black and white continued here, creating a sense of modern elegance. The bathtub beckoned invitingly, promising moments of relaxation and contemplation. Large mirrors adorned the walls, reflecting your image from multiple angles.

The shower was enclosed in glass, giving it an open and airy feel. A smooth marble slab inside the shower caught your attention, and though you couldn't fathom why someone would want to sit in the shower, and you are being honest with yourself, you don't want to think about it either.

Every detail of this room, just like the man who occupied it, was a meticulously chosen piece of artistry. It felt as if you had stepped into his sanctuary, a place where every element was thoughtfully curated to create an atmosphere of serenity and sophistication.

The scent of his products lingered in the air, a reminder that this was indeed his domain. You could almost imagine him here, surrounded by the luxuries he had chosen for himself. Standing there in his bathroom, wrapped in his robe, you couldn't help but feel a strange mix of emotions. The room was a reflection of the man you had just married, and though it was foreign territory for now, you wondered how much of yourself you would eventually weave into this beautifully crafted space.

Your hair cascaded gently on the silk pillow, and while the bed was unfamiliar, it cradled you with a comfort you couldn't deny. The scent of Wonwoo, as if woven into the very fabric of the sheets, enveloped you. As you closed your eyes, the events of the day replayed in your mind.

Surrounded by your chatty cousin and aunt, talk swirled around your cousin's upcoming nuptials in Paris. Across the room, at the other end of the dining hall, stood Wonwoo, a glass of white wine in hand. The glint of the engagement ring you had given him caught your eye as he conversed with Chan and one of his cousins by the bar. Rachel, your trusted aide, appeared at your side and whispered discreetly, "I think you should see this."

You excused yourself from the table and joined Rachel on the balcony, where Wonwoo overheard your conversation with Rema when his family came for dinner. He was still within your peripheral vision, and as Rachel brought out her tablet and displayed pictures of Wonwoo carrying Eleanor into his hotel, you couldn't help but feel a surge of emotions.

You handed the tablet back to Rachel with a firm command: "Kill these pictures; make sure no one can get their hands on them."

"Yes, boss," she replied, and you returned to your seat at the head of the table, doing your best to mask the turmoil brewing within you. You ignored the puzzled gazes that were beginning to notice your intense demeanor, as if they could sense that something was amiss. Wonwoo seemed like he was about to approach you, but his father intercepted him, leading him away from the party to have a private conversation in the library.

You clenched your eyes shut, trying to suppress the unsettling emotions that threatened to surface. You reminded yourself that loyalty from Wonwoo was something he didn't owe you, except in the context of your business partnership and Noel's adoption. The weariness finally overcame you, and you drifted into an uneasy sleep, your restless thoughts still churning beneath the surface.

As you were on the verge of succumbing to slumber, the sharp ring of your phone pierced through the silence of the room.

...

It was a mere five minutes away from 3 a.m. when a distant voice called out to Wonwoo. Exhausted from the long day, sleep had come easily to him. Wonwoo was accustomed to living alone and even preferred it. At the age of 14, he had moved to London to study at St. Augustine Boarding School for Boys. Though he hadn't seen you since you entered his room, he was vaguely aware of your presence in his house. It provided him with a respite from his otherwise hectic and crowded life.

Before drifting off to sleep, his father's words in the Serenity Mansion library echoed in his mind. ''Y/N is important to us. I'm sure you don't want to wash your hands off that land. So, get your act together and make her fall—"

Suddenly, someone began shaking his body, calling his name.

"Wonwoo?"

''Wonwoo! Wake up!"

Startled, he jolted awake, momentarily disoriented about where he was and who was standing before him.

"Y/n," his voice hoarse from sleep and confusion, "what's wrong?"

You stood near the bed, your warm hand still resting on his forearm. He hadn't noticed his shirtless upper body. Your body language conveyed anxiety, as if something deeply disturbing had occurred. He adjusted his position, and you withdrew your hand, placing it by your side. He propped himself up with his hand behind his head and began to close his eyes again.

"Scared? Want me to hold your hand?"

"Will you shut up? I'm going to Switzerland."

This statement roused him fully.

"Why? Weren't we supposed to go next week?"

"We were, but Jeonghan called. He said that Noella's brother came to Noel's school. We don't know what he said to him, but he has had a high fever since last night and has been continuously calling my name. I have to leave."

You began to get dressed as Wonwoo followed you, still in a sleepy daze.

"I've called Racheal since my pilot is on maternity leave. I'll head to the airport and book a flight. I know this is all—"

"Y/n, please, let me process this. You're leaving for Switzerland right now. Okay, but can't you wait it out? Kids fall sick all the time; maybe it's just a cold. If he gets better by the morning, then we can proceed according to the schedule."

"Wonwoo, that kid lost both of his parents at the age of five. You can't compare his mental state with every other kid, and I'm informing you that I am leaving."

You emerged from the bathroom with your hair pulled back in a ponytail and your phone ringing on the bed. You walked over to the walk-in wardrobe and pulled out your suitcase. You answered your phone.

"Okay, bring it to the airport. I'll meet you directly there."

"Who was it?" Wonwoo inquired.

"My driver."

"Listen, Wonwoo, I know this is really out of the blue, but I have to go. Noel needs me. I'll be in touch, okay? Just tell everyone that there was an urgent matter I had to attend to at the Switzerland branch. We'll discuss Oasis after all of this wraps up."

Wonwoo threw his head back and exhaled through his nose. "Y/n, it's almost 3 a.m. in the morning. I've only had half an hour of sleep, and people with cameras are always hounding us. Are you even thinking about how they'll twist this?"

"I know, and in all honesty, I don't care. I bet if it were you, then no one would even bat an eye. So—"

You put on your mask and walked out of the room with your suitcase in tow.

"I'll be in touch," you called out before the sound of the door closing echoed through the now-empty penthouse.

Wonwoo sat down on the bed, threw himself back, and rubbed his face with his hands as he groaned. Why is she so stubborn? He got up to search for his phone.

....

Since when did he start caring about what others think of me or us? You retorted sharply during your drive to the airport. As you were hurriedly confirming your ticket at the check-in counter for the fast lane, you realised that only economy seats were available. With a resigned sigh, you took one. deciding that it was the best option under the circumstances. As you worked on your laptop, the announcement for boarding began.

The gate was on the verge of closing when you felt someone take the seat next to you. Glancing up, you were surprised to see Wonwoo. Raising an eyebrow, you inquired, "What are you doing here?"

He replied, "It would be very unbecoming if I let my wife leave in less than 24 hours of our wedding ."

Your thoughts from earlier hung in the air, and you muttered, "Didn't think you gave a damn about what others think.'' Wonwoo's expression darkened at your comment, realising that he might have overreacted.

Throughout the flight, both of you worked on your laptops, immersed in your own worlds. The constant drone of the plane's engines made you drowsy, and you eventually dozed off. Wonwoo, however, found it impossible to sleep on flights, especially in the cramped economy seats.

He glanced at you, your head resting on his shoulder as you slept soundly. He noticed the long, delicate lashes framing your closed eyes, and a soft smile crept onto his lips.

An older woman seated on the other side of him leaned over and struck up a conversation. "Is she your wife?"

Wonwoo nodded. "We got married today, or, shall I say, yesterday."

The woman smiled warmly and congratulated him. "She is very pretty."

Wonwoo couldn't help but agree with a smile of his own. "I know." He went back to his laptop, adjusting your head gently on his shoulder. As the plane soared through the night sky.

....

The sun hung high in the sky as you and Wonwoo stepped off the plane, greeted by the crisp air of Switzerland. You glanced at him, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. "I hope you brought sweaters."

Wonwoo chuckled, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "It's not my first time here, you know. I've been here thrice."

"Good for you," you replied, your tone light, as you led the way towards the awaiting car. "Our car is over there."

Victor, your lawyer and good friend who takes care of matters in your Switzerland branch, stood by the car, his tall frame and salt-and-pepper hair making him a striking figure. Rema, your attorney, would be working closely with him on this case.

As you introduced Victor to Wonwoo, his eyes widened slightly in recognition. "Well, Jeonghan is not going to like this."

"Jeonghan?" Wonwoo inquired, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

"He's Noel's Godfather," Victor explained, his expression revealing a sense of intrigue.

Wonwoo couldn't help but wonder why Jeonghan's reaction to your marriage seemed significant. Did he hold feelings for you, or was there something else that would make him react strongly to this news?

With Victor now aware of Wonwoo's identity and the potential implications, you all piled into the car. The drive through the city of Zurich was breathtaking, with picturesque streets and stunning architecture passing by.

During the journey, Wonwoo couldn't help but ponder Victor's cryptic comment about Jeonghan. He turned to you with a playful glint in his eyes. "Jeonghan, huh? Is there something you're not telling me about this Godfather?"

You leaned back in your seat, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Oh, you know, just a bit of friendly rivalry. He's probably just upset that he didn't get an invite to our whirlwind wedding."

''JJ hates staying out of the loop'' Victor added from the front seat.

You chuckled, "Well, it's not like we had a choice with that one. But we'll have to make it up to him somehow, as i come bearing gifts."

As the car continued its journey through the streets of Zurich, you couldn't help but wonder if Jeonghan's reaction would be the only surprise waiting for you in Switzerland.

...

Victor's sleek BMW glided to a stop on the cobblestone driveway, nestled in one of the quieter, less touristy corners - Enge. You tumbled out of the car with Wonwoo and Victor following suit, suitcases in tow. You approached the front cerulean door and swung it open, entering Jeonghan's and Victor's home. The decor was a whimsical blend of colours and styles, with a baby blue Persian rug that flirted with salmon-white walls. A light grey couch adorned with metallic golden accents sat regally in the centre of the room.

Jeonghan, perched cross-legged with a magazine in his lap and a coffee mug in hand, sensed your approach. He abandoned his reading material and cup, rushing over to envelop you in a bear hug, which you reciprocated wholeheartedly.

"JJ!" you exclaimed, your voice muffled by his shoulder.

He drew back, holding your shoulders, to examine you. "Good Lord, girl, were you on a sleep strike for the last two weeks?"

"Something like that," you replied, undoing your scarf. "How's Noel?"

"Well, the fever's still hanging around, but he's asleep now after the doctor gave him an injection.''

"Any idea why Nikolai was there?"

He shrugged. "I didn't get a chance to ask. The teachers just told me..."

His eyes wandered past you and locked onto Wonwoo, who had just entered the house. Jeonghan's eyes widened, and he couldn't help but voice his curiosity.

"Who's that hunk?"

"Who?" you turned, and then back to Jeonghan. "Oh, that's... that's Wonwoo."

"Your new assistant?"

You chuckled, shaking your head. "No, he's my husband."

"YOUR WHAT?!" Jeonghan's exclamation could have shattered glass with its sheer volume. "YOU GOT MARRIED AND DIDN'T TELL ME? I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS--''

"Jeonghan, calm down," you coaxed, leading him to the couch. "I know this may come as a shock to you."

"Ya bet," he huffed, settling onto the couch.

Wonwoo entered the house, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement. You signalled him to come closer.

"JJ, this is Jeon Wonwoo—my, my husband. And Wonwoo, this is Jeonghan, my best friend and Noel's godfather."

Wonwoo extended his hand for a handshake, which Jeonghan eyed sceptically before reluctantly accepting. "Nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

Jeonghan just nodded in acknowledgment, folding his arms. “Nice to meet you too, and i heard nothing about you.’’He couldn't hold back his curiosity, though.

"How long have you two been together?"

"Oh, we met—"

"A year!" You cut Wonwoo off, your voice brimming with faux enthusiasm.

Jeonghan eyed you suspiciously before stating, "Why the sudden wedding? Are you pregnant?"

"Yes! And they're quadruplets," you replied sarcastically, a playful tone in your voice.

Jeonghan rolled his eyes. "You think you funny, huh?''

"Ya, I'm the funniest."

"You didn't—wait, how can you date for a year when you were here all the time—" Before you could respond, Jeonghan connected the dots himself. "Ah, so this is the reason why you went back home every two weeks, every alternate month."

"Hmm," you and Wonwoo exchanged amused glances he's so far from the truth, exhaustion showing on both your faces.

"I have a few questions..."

"And we'll answer them later, Dad. But first, I want to see Noel. Can you show Wonwoo the guest room? We haven't had a chance to rest since the wedding yesterday."

"YOU GOT MARRIED YESTERDAY?" You hurried off to find Noel, leaving a flabbergasted Jeonghan in your wake.

You turned the doorknob, granting access to Noel's room. The iron-man-themed décor caught your eye, with figurines strewn about the floor and notebooks scattered on his study table. You made your way to his bedside and gently began caressing his forehead. His cheeks were still warm and flushed, and he took short, pouted breaths in his slumber. The effect of the injection appeared to be wearing off as he stirred from his sleep.

"Tante," he asked, as if you were a mere hallucination.

"Hi, baby boy."

"How are you here?"

"How can I not be? When my baby calls for me, I must show up. Is that even a question?"

You were about to hug him when you remembered you were still in your airport clothes. "It's alright, bud. You can go back to sleep."

He tightly grasped your hand, his voice tinged with worry. "What if I wake up and you're not here?"

"Then pinch yourself awake from that bad dream and find me. I'll always be there."

He brought your hand to his chest, finding solace in your presence as he dozed off again. You reached for the intercom near the side table, and after a few minutes, there was a polite knock at the door.

"Enter."

A woman in her mid-40s, her auburn hair neatly tucked into a low bun, entered the room. Her sturdy build and professional demeanour spoke of competence.

"Hello, Leila."

"Good afternoon, Ma'am."

"How have you been?"

"Good."

"That's nice. Get me some cold water and two towels. I'll wipe Noel's body and take out his fresh pajamas. Also, prepare some chicken soup with carrots and onions. Don't forget to toast the bread."

"Madam, leave it to me. I'll take care of Little Master. You must be tired after such a long flight."

"It's alright, Leila. Just do as you're told. And send someone to clean my house, will you?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

She paused for a moment and then added, "Madam..."

"Hmm?" You responded without taking your eyes off Noel.

"I'm glad you're back early. Little Master missed you a lot. And congratulations on your wedding."

You met her gaze briefly, your expression softening, before turning your attention back to Noel and nodding in acknowledgement of her words.

After feeding Noel, you made your way to the living room, where Leila informed you that Victor had returned to his office, and Jeonghan was engrossed in his study, presumably giving an online lecture. With Noel still recovering, it wouldn't be right to move him, so you and Wonwoo would be staying in the guestroom for the night.

In the guestroom, you sat down on a seater near the dresser, your feet perched on a small table, your fingers pinching your forehead in thought. You could hear the shower running nearby. Closing your eyes, you tried to relax.

The door opened, and a body emerged from it. Wonwoo stood before you, wrapped in nothing but a towel cinched around his waist and another draped over his shoulders. Little droplets cascaded down his hair and chest as he walked towards you.

"You're here," he remarked.

"Yeah," you replied without opening your eyes.

"I thought you'd sleep somewhere else."

"Can't do. Victor and Jeonghan have no idea about the real motive of this marriage."

"I figured as much.'' Wonwoo turned his back to you, preparing to change into fresh clothes.

You opened your eyes, discreetly analysing the muscles of his back. "So, he works out, huh? Not bad."

"I can feel you ogling."

''Sorry, I didn't mean to."

"I didn't say I mind."

You responded with a nonchalant "hmm" and made your way to the bathroom.

"Do you not feel awkward after seeing my body?" Wonwoo called after you.

"Why should I feel awkward? You showed me your body."

"You have a response to everything, don't you?"

"Yes, that's how conversations usually go. If you want to eat something, there's an intercom near the side table on the right-hand side. Leila will bring it."

"Nah, I want to sleep. I haven't slept a wink since yesterday."

"Okay," you said and shut the bathroom door behind you. The bathroom still held the warmth from Wonwoo's shower. You quickly shed your clothes and stepped under the hot water, the sensation easing the knots and tensions in your body. In the midst of it, you couldn't help but wonder, "Why am I always so at ease in his presence?"

By the time you finished your shower, your body felt relaxed, but fatigue had finally caught up with you. You found Wonwoo sleeping curled up on the left corner of the spacious bed. Since it was a king-sized bed, you arranged the pillows in the middle and lay down on the right side without overthinking it. As you rested your head on the pillow, all conscious thought faded away, and sleep enveloped you.

....

The sudden slam of the door startled you, making you stir slightly. You felt a warm breath on your neck and a gentle weight on your waist. Just as you were falling back to sleep, someone hopped onto your bed, jolting you awake. Wonwoo's nose nuzzled into the back of your head, and his arms wrapped around your waist. Where did the pillow go? You didn't get a chance to wonder further when Noel sat on your stomach.

"Oomph, El," you grunted.

The sound of hurried steps echoed in the room, and Jeonghan's voice followed, "El, you shouldn't barge into a couple's room like that. You'll be traumatised for life."

He entered the doorway with his eyes tightly shut. "Aren't you an eloquent speaker, JJ?''you retorted.

"Are you both decent?" he asked cautiously.

Wonwoo groaned and moved his hand away from you, turning to his side and still sleeping. You were busy glaring at Jeonghan for the untimely intrusion when you noticed Noel staring down at the man's shirtless back. You patted Noel's thigh to get his attention, and he turned to you, asking in French

"Who is he?"

"He is my husband and your uncle."

"But I already have an uncle!"

"Who?" you asked, confused. A glance passed between you and Jeonghan, who stood by the door.

"He came to my school and said that he is my mama's brother, and he will take me to his house, where he lives with my grandpa."

"So what did you say?"

"I said I wanted to live with you."

A warmth spread in your heart as Noel laid down on your chest, hugging you. He continued, "But he said you won't want to live with me when you get married and have a family of your own."

Every ounce of drowsiness left your body, replaced by slow-building fury. "That would never happen," you assured him, rubbing his back as you gazed up at the ceiling.

"If you're awake, dinner's ready. Come and eat it, El. Let's go," Jeonghan said, his voice low and tinged with worry.

You looked at Jeonghan and nodded. Turning your face, you kissed Noel on the back of the head. As you did, you met Wonwoo's eyes, looking deeply at you with his tousled hair. He was still lying on his stomach, but his head was turned towards you, and your heartbeat quickened.

Before you could say anything, his phone blared, and he turned to pick it up. "Yes, Chan," he answered, his voice hoarse. You got up, carrying Noel in your arms, and left the room, the unresolved tension lingering in the air.

....

It had been a week since the two of you arrived in Zurich. After that eventful dinner, you, Wonwoo, and Noel went to your house across the street. Since Leila was your housekeeper, she took care of cleaning and occasionally cooked for Jeonghan, who preferred to cook for himself and Victor. That dinner had been quite a grilling session for Wonwoo. He found himself caught in the crossfire, with Noel and Jeonghan bombarding him with questions. The poor man had been munching on his lettuce like an innocent sheep, occasionally answering their inquiries. You and Victor exchanged empathetic glances at each other and at Wonwoo.

The next three days had been a blur, with both of you barely meeting each other. You were busy with work and meetings in your Switzerland office, while he worked from your home office. One evening, as you both sat down to eat together, he broached the topic.

"I know you said we'd deal with Oasis once all this wraps up, but I was thinking of holding an investors meeting on Saturday."

"I don't think so," you replied, leaning back and taking a sip of your drink.

"Why?" He asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"I think holding an investor meeting face-to-face would be better," you explained. "Rich people have no lack of money to burn, but they do give preference to sincerity. If we both host a dinner at our new home and show them our sincerity towards the project and somewhat toward each other, don't you think that would be more beneficial?"

You paused, waiting for his response, and then added, "Isn't that also the reason you got married? To improve your reputation and win more investors for your new project in Kyoto?"

He nodded thoughtfully and raised an eyebrow. "I guess there's nothing wrong with that. Well, then, I'll inform Chan to arrange a meeting with the architects."

"Hmm," you said, nodding in agreement, and went back to your food.

It was the night before the trial. You were reading Noel a bedtime story about a wise old owl, an owl who listened to individuals and their problems. By the time you reached the second chapter, Noel was already asleep. Kissing his forehead, you left the room and noticed the lights were still on in the study. You assumed Wonwoo was working late again. Your impromptu change of plans had put a strain on his work-life due to different time zones, making you feel a little guilty. But then again, it was his choice to come here.

Rema had arrived that morning and was now sleeping in the room that Wonwoo used to occupy. Tonight, he'd be sleeping in your room. You had offered to take the couch, but he insisted otherwise.

You were done with your nighttime routine when you exited the ensuite bathroom and saw Wonwoo standing on the balcony, smoking a cigarette and talking on his phone.

He noticed your movement from the corner of his eye but continued speaking into the phone, "What's the point of living in one of the most secure and luxurious apartments in the country if you all can't even keep a woman from trespassing?"

He pressed his thumb against his forehead, the cigarette burning. "Well then, take care of it, Chan."

He ended the call and put the phone in the pocket of his relaxed trousers.

"Hello there, stranger," you greeted him.

"Hi," he replied, puffing out a plume of smoke.

You sat on the dresser to brush your hair, and he continued to gaze down at the park, visible from your balcony.

"Did work end early?" you asked.

He huffed a smile and said, "Does it ever end?"

You picked up your lotion and started applying it to your arms. You shook your head in denial and commented, "Tomorrow's going to be a long day. Since we've applied for the fast-track court, the hearing won't take long. I just hope—"

You took a breath and continued, "I just hope we get this over with and get Noel away from these people."

You felt a comforting hand on your shoulder, and when you looked up in the mirror, you met Wonwoo's eyes. His voice softened as he reassured you, "Don't worry. You've worked hard, and nobody can take Noel away from you."

You smiled back. "I hope so."

He nodded and made his way to the bathroom.

"Wonwoo," you called out, making him stop in his tracks. "What's wrong?"

He sighed, retracing his steps and sitting on the bed. Your eyes met in the mirror as he began, "Eleanor, Tresspassed, and trashed the apartment''

''And no one did anything?'' you asked, shock evident on your face.

''Well, she is the wife of politician Lee Joonsuk; only a man with a death wish would touch her''

''I didn't know you were suicidal, wonwoo''

''Look at you and your elite sense of humour. I meant in the legal sense.'' You nodded in understanding, but the curiosity got the better of you, and you asked, ''Whats her story?'' His head shot up, and he looked at you intently for a minute, then began to share his love story—how he had met Eleanor in college in London. She came from a poor family but aspired to have a career in politics. After working under Lee Joonsuk's party, she had drawn his keen interest, and before he knew it, he was returning from his grandmother's funeral to hear that his girlfriend was marrying into one of the most powerful conglomerate families.

For a few years, it seemed nice for her, but the spark eventually faded. Their marriage had turned into just another one in society. However, neither of them could leave—their marriage served her political career, and his wealth had no end.

"So, what does she want from you?" you asked.

He smiled ruefully. "Attention."

You had no words, but Wonwoo tilted his head and said, "Wow, I never talk about these things with Chan, and he's with me 22/7."

"22/7?" you inquired, confused.

"Yes, two hours for sleep," he explained, making both of you laugh.

"Well, I am the old, wise owl; people like talking to me."

He hummed and made his way to the bathroom.

....

The drive to the court was far from easy for you. Jeonghan, Victor, Rema, and you were all packed into one car, with Leila, Noel, and Wonwoo in another. Rema and Victor discussed and exchanged pointers, trying to keep the atmosphere as calm as possible. Jeonghan held your hand, providing a comforting presence as the tension mounted.

Finally, when your number was called, Leila and Noel were escorted to the witness room while the four of you entered the courtroom. Rema and Victor took their seats on the right, while the Bulavias occupied the left side. As the judge announced, "Case Number 432: Custody of Noel Hong, L/N vs. Bulavia," a wave of anticipation washed over the room.

Your eyes met Nikolai Bulavia's, a man with platinum blonde hair, a family crest ring, a sharp jawline, and a strong build. He looked at you with those same unsettling eyes that resembled Noella's. A sneer crept onto his face as he observed you, then he shifted his gaze to Wonwoo. You were determined not to give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd gotten under your skin, so you looked away.

Wonwoo, who had been busy typing on his phone, leaned in and whispered, "Don't worry, we've got this."

His warm hand rested above your knee, offering you the reassurance you needed in this nerve-wracking moment.

Judge Andrew's, a man in his 60s with a strenuous personality and gravel voice, commanded, ''Order in the court!''

The room fell into silence as the judge called for order. You sat nervously, flanked by Rema and Victor on one side and the Bulavias on the other.

Bulavia's Attorney stood up and walked in the centre of the room and began addressing the judge, ''Your Honour, we'd like to begin by stating that the existence of the child in question was deliberately kept hidden from the Bulavia family. We were not informed about Noel's existence until recently.

Rema, following the suit, countered, ''Your Honour, if I may, the decision to keep Noel away from the Bulavias was based on the explicit wishes of his deceased parents. They wanted to ensure that Noel was never exposed to the Bulavia family.''

Judge Andrews nodded and said, ''Let's proceed, please.''

Bulavia Attorney added, ''Furthermore, Your Honour, we'd like to argue that Ms. [Your Last Name] has an unstable lifestyle. She's constantly on the move between her home country and here, neglecting to be a constant figure in Noel's life and leaving him at the care of her friends and house help, and it appears that she only wants Noel because of the substantial property and shares left in his name by his deceased mother.

Rema, walking closer to the judge's stand, said, '' Your honour, that's simply not true. My client has always had Noel's best interests at heart. She is a renown businesswoman who travels due to work. The properties and shares were entrusted to him, and she's been managing them responsibly.''

Bulavia Attorney countered, ''Your Honour, we have reason to believe that Ms. [Your Last Name]'s intentions are not as noble as she claims. We request that these financial assets be temporarily placed under the Bulavia family's supervision until this matter is settled.''

'' Your honour, we vehemently oppose this request. It is clear that Noel's life was under threat from the Bulavia family. We have evidence to support this claim.''

Bulavia Attorney, who was quiet confident, is now left perplexed at this new revelation: ''Evidence? What evidence?''

Rema is standing, holding a folder. ''Your Honour, we have obtained CCTV footage from 2016 showing Mr. Nikolai Bulavia getting out of his car with a baseball bat. We also have medical records and photographs that depict the violence Mr. Nikolai Bulavia inflicted upon Noel's late parents. He even attacked Joshua, Noel's father, upon learning of his sister's pregnancy.''

The Bulavia attorney was now taken aback. ''Your honour, those incidents were isolated, and Mr. Bulavia deeply regrets his actions. But that doesn't justify Ms. [Your Last Name]'s decision to keep the child hidden from us.''

When Rema further added, "Your Honour, it's clear that the Bulavia family's violent history posed a threat to Noel's safety. We argue that his parents' decision to keep him away from this environment was justified.''

The courtroom buzzed with tension as both sides presented their arguments. The judge listened carefully, fully aware that this was a critical decision that would shape young Noel's future.

After a thoughtful pause, Judge Andrews began his verdict: ''I've reviewed the presented evidence and heard both sides of the argument. It is clear that there was a history of violence and danger to the child's life from the Bulavia family. While these incidents may have been isolated, Noel Hong's safety and well-being are paramount in this case.''

''Your honour, we assure you that we can provide a safe and nurturing environment for the child.''

Judge Andrews firmly cut Bulavia's attorney off. ''Nevertheless, the evidence presented suggests that the child's life was at risk in your presence. Therefore, the court rules in favour of Ms. [Your Last Name] retaining custody of Noel Hong. Furthermore, the financial assets will remain under her supervision.''

The Bulavias appeared crestfallen, while you and your legal team shared a collective sigh of relief.

The judge continues, ''I will also issue a restraining order against Mr. Nikolai Bulavia, ensuring he maintains a safe distance from the child and Ms. [Your Last Name].''

Rema, who was now standing next to you, whispered, ''We did it, Y/N.''

You nodded, tears of relief brimming in your eyes. Wonwoo, who had been a pillar of support throughout the trial, gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

Wonwoo leaned to whisper, ''I told you we'd get through this.''

''The court finds in Favour of the petitioner, Y/N L/N, for the adoption of Noel Hong''

A wave of relief washed over you as you heard the judge's words. It was official. Noel was yours, and he was safe from the Bulavia family's influence.

Judge Andrew looks at you and Wonwoo and says, ''It is the court's hope that Noel Hong will now be provided with a loving and stable environment where he can thrive and grow.''

You nodded, tears of joy and gratitude filling your eyes. Wonwoo squeezed your hand, sharing in your overwhelming emotions.

And concluded, ''Congratulations, Mrs. L/N and Mr. Jeon. The court approves the adoption of Noel Hong by Y/N L/N, and we wish your family all the best for the future''

As you rushed into the witness room after the court's decision, your heart swelled with an overwhelming mix of emotions. There, sitting in the midst of this legal battle, was the small figure of Noel, your precious little boy. You spread your arms wide, your eyes welling up with tears of joy, and Noel immediately sensed the invitation. With a wide smile on his face, he practically leaped into your arms.

You held him close, feeling the warmth of his little body against yours, his heartbeat in sync with your own. In that moment, as you held Noel, you realized something profound. It wasn't just the fact that he was Joshua's son or Noella's child that made you love him so deeply. It was simply Noel, a bright and beautiful soul who had come into your life and filled it with an extraordinary kind of love.

As you hugged him tightly, you whispered softly into his ear, "I told you, Noel, no one can ever take you away from Tante." Your voice carried all the love and reassurance that a child could ever need, and Noel, with his small arms wrapped around you, knew that he was home, safe and cherished in your embrace.

As Wonwoo watched you holding Noel, something profound and deeply touching happened within him. He felt a crack forming in the walls he had built around his heart, a wall that had been constructed over years of self-preservation and ambition. In that moment, as he witnessed the pure and selfless love you had for Noel, he realized the depth of your character.

Beneath the surface of the successful and driven persona he had seen before, there was a person who was genuinely selfless. It wasn't just about protecting Noel for the sake of his inheritance or securing a business deal; it was about providing love, care, and a safe haven for a child who needed it.

This realization shook him to his core. It was as if he had stumbled upon a hidden treasure, a quality in you that he had never fully appreciated before. In that moment, Wonwoo couldn't help but admire and respect you even more. He knew he had witnessed something extraordinary and rare – an act of pure, selfless love that had the power to touch and transform the hearts of those who were lucky enough to witness it.

.....

The night was slowly settling in as Victor drove Rema to the airport. It left just you, Noel, and a dimly lit street outside the restaurant where you had dinner. As Wonwoo and Jeonghan settled the bill inside you stood there, a familiar figure started approaching, and your heart sank.

"Which part of the restraining order did you not understand, Nikolia?" you spat out, your voice laced with irritation.

A devilish smirk played on Nikolia's lips as he responded, "Unclench your claws, kitten. I'm just here to talk."

You crossed your arms defensively. "I never cared for the child, but to think that this little kimchi pest will be sitting on 3 billion worth of property is not sitting right with me."

"Then sleep on it; you'll get used to it," you retorted, trying to mask your unease.

Nikolia laughed and raised his finger as if to push your hair away from your face, but before he could, Noel clung to your leg, visibly frightened. You warned, "Don't you dare touch me, Nikolia."

His eyes flared with anger, and he hissed, "That's not what you were saying that night 8 years ago."

You smirked, your words dripping with contempt, "Hmm, I wish I did. Then again, how would I know what faking an orgasm felt like?"

A fire blazed in Nikolia's eyes, but he didn't respond immediately. Instead, he mumbled, "Ah, Y/N, if only you'd given us a chance. You would've been his real aunt and the queen of my empire, not some little hotel man's wife."

You looked him up and down and said, "I'd rather eat glass than marry you. And don't even compare yourself to my husband, Nikolia. He has more spine than you can imagine. A person who kills his own sister, leaving his nephew an orphan, all for the sake of his fragile ego. So, get away and get lost, Nikolia. I don't want Noel anywhere near your shadow, let alone you."

Before Nikolia could respond, an arm wrapped around your waist, and Noel left your side, running to Jeonghan for safety. It was Wonwoo, exuding an aura of intimidation.

"I think my wife asked you to leave, Mr. Bulavia," he said calmly but firmly.

Nikolia glanced down at you, then up at Wonwoo, and then winked at Noel. "Don't get so worked up, Mr. Jeon. I was just having a conversation with an old friend."

You huffed, retorting, "We were never friends."

Nikolia backed away, smirking. "Whatever you say, princess. Whatever you say," he replied before finally turning and walking away into the night, 'This isn't over Y/N'' leaving you, Wonwoo, and Noel in a state of tense relief.

.....

As the time for your departure from Switzerland approached, the atmosphere was heavy with a mix of excitement and sadness. Jeonghan and Victor had come to drop you off at the airport, and there was something they wanted to share.

Once you had all settled in a quieter corner of the airport lounge, Jeonghan cleared his throat, exchanging a glance with Victor. It was clear they had something important to say.

"We have some news," Jeonghan began, his expression a mixture of excitement and nervousness. "Victor and I are getting married soon."

You blinked in surprise, and then your shock transformed into a grin. "That's wonderful news! Congratulations!"

But then a thought crossed your mind, and you narrowed your eyes playfully at Jeonghan. "Why didn't you tell me this earlier?"

He chuckled, his smile wide. "Well, you didn't tell us you were dating someone for a whole year!"

You rolled your eyes, but it was all in good humor. "Fair enough. Well, I'm genuinely happy for both of you."

Jeonghan turned his attention to Wonwoo, who was standing beside you. "Take good care of her and my godson, alright?"

Wonwoo nodded, extending his hand to Jeonghan. "I will, don't you worry."

Jeonghan gave Wonwoo a firm handshake before turning to you. He pulled you into a warm hug and whispered, "He's a good guy, but if he acts up, you know who to call."

You nodded, feeling a lump in your throat, and then picked up Noel. Tears welled up in his eyes as he hugged Jeonghan tightly, realising that this might be the last time he saw his beloved uncle for a while.

There was a farewell filled with smiles and promises to visit each other soon. Finally, the three of you walked to Wonwoo's private jet, ready to fly back home, where new adventures await. Unbeknownst to you, the new revelation you're about to face.

....

Extra:

Wonwoo descended the stairs, feeling the pangs of thirst that late-night work often brought on. He noticed the refrigerator light flickering and remembered he had a late meeting to attend due to the troublesome time zone differences. As he made his way to the kitchen, he noticed Noel struggling to open a bottle.

Deciding to offer some assistance, Wonwoo approached the young boy. "Why are you up so late?" he inquired, causing Noel to jump slightly.

"I could ask you the same," Noel retorted.

Wonwoo chuckled softly. "Touché. Well, I was working. But wait, I don't need to explain myself to you."

Noel, still wrestling with the stubborn bottle cap, retorted, "Neither do I."

Seeing Noel's struggle, Wonwoo carefully lifted him onto a stool and took the bottle. After successfully opening it, he decided to pour himself a cup of coffee and sat down beside the young boy.

Noel looked at him and curiously asked, "Why are you sleeping in the guest bedroom? Don't married people sleep together?"

A sly grin tugged at Wonwoo's lips. "Aren't you seven?" he retorted, and he couldn't help but chuckle at the clever preception.

Noel added with a hint of playfulness, "I may be seven, but I'm not an idiot. I know things because Mama and Appa used to sleep in the same room."

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Noel's insight. "Well, I work late at night, and your Tante is an early bird."

Noel nodded knowingly. "Yeah, she does like to sleep a lot."

Curiosity getting the better of him, Wonwoo pressed further. "What else does your Tante like?"

Noel hopped down from the stool, discarded the plastic into the blue recycling bin, and started to amble away. He turned back briefly and quipped, "Again, I may be a kid, but I'm not an idiot to let you sweet-talk me into an investigation."

Wonwoo watched the boy walk away with a smile, finding Noel's wit and independence rather endearing. He sipped his coffee and mumbled to himself, "Like aunt, like kid."

-------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Thank you again for reading see you all again with a new chapter in October.

msh

#kpop fluff #kpop angst #kpop smut #fanfiction #seventeen #aquamarine #jeon wonwoo x reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen arrange marriage au #arrange marriage #jeon wonwoo arrange marriage au

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ameagrice · 2 years ago

Text

Capsize

chapter nineteen | time to pray

percy jackson x fem reader

There are a lot of things that make up a person. Their habits; their hobbies, their likes and dislikes. More intricately, the way they tie their shoelaces; their favourite song and the reason why.

It was bright summer. Even in the evening, as the sun began to set, the sky was turning from a gorgeous yellow to a burnt, crisp orange-pink, streaks in the sky. Driving across the passover, you rested your elbow on the wound-down window, just watching the water shining with every movement. It was still, and so pretty. You tried to take a picture of it, but a Blackberry couldn’t compare to real life.

Billy Ocean was playing on the radio, your dad’s favorite singer, and he sang quietly along to a song. Usually he’d tell you that you’d wound the window down too far and to put it back up, but he was in a relatively good mood. You hadn’t asked why.

It wasn’t like your relationship was all bad. He had his unusual ways—strict tendencies. You had your lashings out—angry tears and despair. Most days, you managed to look past it.

Especially on the good days.

You’d gone for food out at some small restaurant you’d suggested. Your dad always had been more for the extravagant, up-town places. You were happy with a Chinese takeout, or a McDonalds. He wore a Rolex and drove a Range Rover. You liked the smaller cars your cousin drove with the cute Hawaiian decorations hanging from the centre mirror. He was your dad, and you loved him in a way, but never were you close. You couldn’t think of a day in your life when you both had been. Maybe when you were younger, but not much came your way after that.

You were more like acquaintances, than father and daughter. It didn’t help that you didn’t look like him much, either. You always thought it was nice when your friends looked like their parents—the comments like ‘don’t you look so much like your mom!’ or ‘wow, you and your dad look so alike.’

What did your dad have to bond with you over?

The noodles, apparently.

“Hey, we’ll try that again at some point,” he said, turning the music down. You didn’t see the point. You wanted to lean over and turn it back up. “Wasn’t that food so good?”

“Yeah,” you nodded lightly. That’s why I picked it.

When you got home, his girlfriend was there. She smiled and gave you a small hey, but that was the end of it.

Later, you heard them yelling about why she wasn’t invited for dinner.

You never went back to the restaurant. Not with your dad.

—

“DUDE.”

“DUDE!”

“HEY! Can you hear me?!”

You opened your eyes, grimacing. Percy sat next to you. “Bro, you’re scrambling my brain right now.” You sat up, huffing slowly.

The first thing you noticed was the lack of jacket. It was on the floor at the end of the small cot you lay on, visibly shredded. You looked down, expecting the worst, only to find that your hand was in perfect condition: your skin seemed to gleam a little, like you’d had a full polish and shine. Everything was back to normal. You reached up to your ear—all fine.

“Huh,” you said, turning your arm this way and that, expecting it. There was no pain. “Thought I was gonna be a one-armed bandit.”

Percy snorted. “They managed to stop it, sorry to tell you.”

“Damn.”

You looked around. A lantern filled with white light showed the shimmer of the tent you were inside of. A silver jacket, which seemed to look around your size, lay on a small table in the middle of the space.

It came flooding back. Your head snapped to Percy.

“Annabeth?”

His whole expression just dropped. “She’s gone. Not dead, I mean, that wasn’t the right thing to say. But we can’t find her. It’s like she’s disappeared completely.”

You sat in silence, taking it in. “She’d have never fallen off that cliff if she hadn’t been trying to save me.”

“Don’t say that—”

“Well it’s true!” You burst. Percy startled. “It’s true and you know it is! She only jumped at Thorn because he jumped at me. Because I was the weakest one there and he thought he could take me. Am I wrong?”

His hesitation stabbed your heart, but all in all, you knew you were speaking nothing but the truth.

“We’ll find her.” You decided firmly. “She’s my sister. As annoying as she is, we can’t leave her.”

Percy nodded. And that was that.

“One of the girls left you a jacket since yours got ruined,” Percy leaned over to grab it. In your hands, it felt like silk, but putting it on, it blocked out every ounce of coldness in the air.

“Whoever designed these is my new favorite,” you mumbled, standing up. Your legs felt stiff, unused, but with a tight stretch of your arms above your head, on your toes, it wasn’t nothing that couldn’t be fixed. “Shall we go find the others?”

You first found Grover. He looked star-struck, as if he’d just seen a meteorite or an eclipse. When he saw you, he sighed deeply.

You watched as he visibly deflated like a helium balloon. “Oh, thank the gods you’re alright! I thought you were dead!”

“Nope,” you popped. “Still standing.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay,” he said.

“Where are the kids?” You asked, scouring the area. “Nico and Bianca?”

“Nico’s over there, building a snowman. Bianca is…well, I’ll take you to her.” Percy grabbed your elbow to pull you along.

Walking between tents set up (and dodging wolves prowling the area) you set your sights on Bianca sitting with two older girls on either side of her. She laughed like she hadn’t had a good bout of laughter in her life, like nothing had ever been funnier. It was lightening, in a way. She wore the same coat you did, but she looked more…alive? than before. Her skin glowed healthily, and there seemed to be a different vibe around her.

“Hey,” Percy greeted. His voice didn’t hold its usual spark of cheekiness. You guessed the Annabeth situation had drained him of it. “Bianca, can we talk to you for a minute?”

The girls at her side pulled a face. You fought with yourself to keep your mouth shut. Rudeness was a quality you did not take well to, even if you yourself could have your moments.

She nodded, her smile falling slowly. “Sure.” The first thing she said to you was, “I really thought you were going to die.”

“Not a chance,” you shook your head. “Didn’t even hurt.”

She looked between yourself and Percy as if to say is she for real? Bianca raised her eyebrows.

You reached a small clearing away from the camp. Not far away enough to be dangerous, but enough to grant some privacy in your conversation.

“So,” she looked at Percy. “What’s this about? If Nico said something about his mythomagic cards again, you just gotta go along with it—”

“It’s not about the card—game—thingy. Could you just explain your girl group to B? She, you know, doesn’t know.”

“Oh!” Bianca clasped her hands together enthusiastically, beaming all of a sudden. “I’m a Hunter of Artemis, now!”

You tilted your head a little. “What’s that? Like a new band or something?”

Bianca laughed. “No! Artemis’s hunters are the girls that saved us. They hunt monsters and things. And get this—it gives you immortality.”

Your eyes practically bugged out of your head. “Huh? Like, actually? That’s a thing?”

“Yeah! Cool, right?”

“No!” Percy blurted. “Not cool! Bianca, you and Nico were supposed to come back to camp with us! Not join a Girl Scout group!”

“It’s not Girl Scouts, Percy! This is good for me! I can’t babysit Nico anymore. And he needs different company.”

“Babysit?” You frowned. “Hang on. Backtrack. When did all this happen?”

“When you were knocked out,” Bianca explained, leaning on her hip. She crossed her arms. “Artemis offered me it.”

“What, you just say you wanna sign up and you’re in?”

“You’re not thinking of joining?” Percy looked at you incredulously. “Come on, guys!”

“I mean…!” You looked away. “Immortality?” You offered.

“So?!”

“You have to say a pledge,” Bianca informed. Her eyes seemed brighter talking about it. “Something about pledging yourself to Artemis, and…uhhh…”

“I mean, it doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” you wrinkled your nose. Percy looked devastated.

“Oh!” She snapped her fingers. “And you have to pledge a life of no boys.”

You whipped your head back in her direction. “No boys?!”

“Yeah. That’s it.”

“Yeah…I’ll pass on that one…”

“Look, Percy thinks I’m making a horrible decision. But I’ve already joined, and I’m having fun already. Nothing bad can come of this,” Bianca reasoned, flaying her hands.

You looked from her to Percy. He still looked horribly defeated. But Bianca looked so happy. And who were you to take that away from someone?

“I think if you’re happy, then that’s what matters.” Bianca squealed. “Look, let’s just go back to the others and see about getting back to camp. God knows we all need to.”

—

It turned out your only form of transport was a school bus. A school bus formerly a sun chariot. A sun chariot belonging to…

“Apollo.”

At first, you’d expected to feel the anger you did when Artemis explained she’d called on her brother for transport. The man who gave you nightmares when he believed you and your friends were at fault for stealing Zeus’s bolt. The man who threatened you in your sleep. But when he finally arrived in person, and began looking down your small line of friends…

“Oh, dear Jesus…”

“Oh, dude, gross,” Percy huffed. “Don’t tell me you actually like this guy?”

You were encapsulated by the blond beauty that was Apollo. In person he seemed to shine more. His hair was a perfect shade of gold-blond, his teeth bright white and perfectly straight. His face was delicately crafted, and he stood lean but strong talking to Thalia. She seemed to be caught on him just like you, fumbling over her words.

“Are you blind?” You muttered, unable to look away. “Look at him…” your voice caught.

“Don’t get emotional, dude. Look at him! He’s not worth it.” Percy rolled his eyes. “Wake up! Look—”

“Percy Jackson.” Apollo stared at him hard for a few seconds.

“Yeah. I mean, yes, sir,” Percy fumbled.

For a minute, Apollo was silent, just staring. Percy began to lean his weight from foot to foot.

Then he looked to you.

“Hey,” he pointed at you. “I know you,” he grinned crookedly.

You hummed sweetly, letting a soft, lovesick smile come to your face. Percy elbowed you.

If you’d been expecting anything more, you weren’t going to get it.

“Well!” Apollo clapped his hands. “We should get going. Ride only goes one way: West. And if you miss it, you’ve missed it.”

He’d pulled up in a red Maserati. It only seemed to have two seats.

You raised the issue yourself.

“Uh, Apollo?”

“Yes?” He stood admiring his own car.

“There are only two seats,” you twirled your hair with your finger. Apollo turned to look at you. “There’s a lot more of us.”

“Well, aren’t you observant.” He smiled prettily.

If looks could kill, Percy would have had Apollo buried a thousand feet under.

“Whats got your frilly knickers in a twist?” You mumbled, leaning in closer to Percy as Apollo set about changing the car to—oh, God, a bus.

“Nothing,” he huffed. “Just come on.”

You all boarded the bus.

The Hunters piled in the back, muttering something about being far away from Apollo. You couldn’t understand why. If anything, you’d die to be closer to Apollo. That man was straight from Heaven.

Nico sat up front with yourself, Percy, Grover and Thalia. It felt a little weird to be leaving without Annabeth, wrong almost, knowing she could be somewhere out there or worse, but there wasn’t much choice.

“This is so cool!” Nico scrambled to the front seat, climbing up and turning the wheel this way and that. “Is this really the sun? I thought Helios and Selene were the sun and moon gods? How come sometimes it’s them and sometimes it’s you and Artemis?”

“Downsizing,” Apollo leaned his elbow on the window screen. “The Romans started it. They couldn’t afford a load of temple sacrifices so they laid off Helios and Selene and just folded their job descriptions into ours. My sis got the moon. I got the sun. It was pretty annoying at first, but at least I got this car.”

You tried to imagine Apollo as the moon god. It didn’t sit right with you. He was definitely a sun guy.

“But how does it work?” Nico rambled on. “I thought the sun was a big ball of fiery gas?”

Apollo ruffled Nico’s hair and chuckled. Probably loving the attention.

“That rumor probably got started because Artemis used to call me a big fiery ball of gas. Seriously, kid, it depends on whether you’re talking astronomy or philosophy. You want to talk astronomy? Bah, what fun is that? You want to talk about how humans think about the sun? Ah, now that’s more interesting. They’ve got a lot riding on the sun…Uh, so to speak. It keeps them warm, grows their crops, powers engines, makes everything look, well, sunnier. This chariot is built out of human dreams about the sun, kid. It’s as old as Western Civilization. Every day, it drives across the sky from east to west, lighting up all those puny little mortal lives. The chariot is a manifestation of the sun’s power, the way mortals perceive it. Make sense?”

Nico blinked. “No.”

“Well then, just think of it as a really powerful, really strong car.”

“Can I drive?”

Apollo shook his head instantly. “No.”

“Oooh!” You shot up in your seat, waving your hand enthusiastically. “Can I?”

“Y—”

“Absolutely not,” Percy said. You pulled a face. “Dude, you can’t even ride a bike!”

“So?”

“Hmm…satyr…too furry. Daughter of Zeus!”

“No.” Thalia deadpanned. “Not a chance.”

“C’mon,” Apollo persuaded. “How old are you?”

Thalia hesitated. “I don’t know.”

Apollo tapped a finger to his lips. “You’re fifteen. Almost sixteen.”

“How do you know that?”

“Hey, I’m the God of Prophecy. I know stuff. You’ll turn sixteen in about a week.”

“That’s my birthday! December twenty-second!”

“Which means you’re old enough to drive with a learner’s permit!”

“Uh--”

“I know what you’re going to say,” said Apollo. “You don’t deserve an honour like driving the sun chariot.”

You wrinkled your nose. The appeal of Apollo was slowly lowering. Maybe you could look past it. Well...

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

“Don’t sweat it! Seriously, Maine to Long Island? Pfftttt, easy trip. And don’t worry about the last kid I trained. You’re Zeus’s daughter. He won’t blast you out of the sky.”

Thalia’s eyes bugged. “What.”

Apollo hit a button on the dashboard and ushered Nico out of the seat, pushing Thalia down gently on to it. A sign popped up on the windowscreen. WARNING: STUDENT DRIVER.

“This is it,” you murmured depressingly. “It was nice knowing you, Percy. I’ll see you in the Fields of Asphodel.”

“Bro. Don’t jinx us before we’ve even moved,” he moaned back just as depressingly.

“Take it away!” Apollo told Thalia. “You’ll be a natural! Speed equals heat, so start slowly, and make sure you’ve got good altitude before you speed up.”

“She’s gonna set us on fire.”

“Dude, shut up!”

Thalia gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. Percy leaned over in his seat. “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing is wrong,” she shook. “Nothing.”

She pulled back on the wheel. It tilted, and the bus lurched upward so fast that Percy fell back, literally crushing you behind him. You could have sworn your nose cracked.

“I swear to God!--”

“Sorry!”

“Slower!” Apollo said. He stayed standing like nothing was wrong, but his face showed his tenseness. That tight-fitting shirt shifted as he moved a hand to hold onto a rail.

“Sorry! I’ve got it all under control.”

You turned your head slowly to the window. Where Thalia had pulled off the ground, a circle of burning trees lay flattened and smoking. You gulped. “We’re done for.”

“Don’t say that!” Apollo tried sounding positive, flashing a shaky smile. “You’re smart enough to know things will work out.”

“Yeah, my funeral bills.”

“Thalia, lighten up on the accelerator,” Percy instructed.

“I’ve got it, Percy,” she said, gritting her teeth. But she kept it floored. Physics might have explained why you were pushed back in your seat, but you were so distracted by Thalia’s foot on the floor that all theory left your brain.

“Loosen up,” he said. His hands were tight on the seat in front.

You sighed, trying to sit up. Your words were strained. “I may as well start praying now.”

“We need to veer left for Long Island,” Apollo said. “Hang a left.”

Thalia jerked the wheel. Percy’s head bashed your mouth this time.

“DUDE!”

“Thalia!”

She swerved right, and this time, you fell into Percy. Your forehead met his chin. He yelped while you shouted, a piercing pain shocking you.

“Ah...a little lower, sweetheart. Cape Cod is freezing over.”

The bus pitched down, and Percy screamed a girly scream next to you. Apollo fell down the aisle and you were so shocked that all you could do was burst out laughing, terrified. He started climbing back up the rows of seats.

“Take the wheel!” Grover begged.

“No worries, all she has to do is just learn--”

“No worries?!” You yelled. “I have dreams, man! Take the wheel!”

Below you, a city covered in snow began to smoke in small plumes. Rooftops began to literally incinerate, the snow melting away in less than a few seconds.

“Pull up!” Percy yelled.

Thrown back in your seat once more like a rag doll, you watched out the window with a hammering heart as the fires began to be snuffed out by a sudden jet of cold that took over as the bus moved away. In the distance, you could seethe coastline--camp wasn’t too far away.

“There!” Apollo pointed. “Camp Half-Blood, dead ahead. Let’s slow down, dear. Dead is only an expression.”

Thalia was thundering towards camp quicker than you found comfortable. You hadn’t driven a car before (unless bumper cars counted at a carnival), but you could even feel something wasn’t right about her speed coming in to camp.

“I’m under control,” she muttered. “I’m under control.”

You’d gotten so close now that the people in the lake were visible.

“Brake,” Apollo said.

“I can do this.”

“BRAKE!”

You were all slammed forward, your face smarting as it hit the seat in front of you. You barely felt Percy’s arm fling out in front of you, though the effort was wasted; it did nothing.

The bus hit the canoe lake. Every bone in your body jolted. The bus floated to the surface, bobbing up and down. You could hear steam sizzling.

Everyone sat up slowly, including you.

“Well, said Apollo. You were right, darling. You had everything under control. Let’s go see if we boiled anyone important, shall we?”

All I could think of was the ‘Jesus take the wheel’ song from Vine. Anyway, as usual, thoughts are appreciated. Hope you enjoyed!

Taglist:

@bl6o6dy @embersparklz @lilyevanswhore @rottenstyx @hawkeye12 @rory-cakes @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @marshmallow12435 @luckydragontriumph @lantsovheiress @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol @bugsys-bubble @twsssmlmaa @gayandfairycore @padsfirewhisky @emu281 @mrswang17 @jessiegerl

#capsize #percy jackson #pjo #leo valdez #annabeth chase #heroes of olympus #jason grace #trials of apollo #hoo #nico di angelo #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #Percy Jackson series #percabeth

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spine-buster · 4 months ago

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So High School ft. Adam Cole | Prologue

A/N: Heeeeeeere we go!!! Let me know what you think!

She was known to him as the girl on the bus.

The boy and the girl had been taking the bus into Lancaster for two years now, ever since they both started high school. She got on one stop before him going into the city, and he got off one stop after her coming back into their small town. They even got off at the same stop in Lancaster. But they never walked together. They never spoke. The only communication they ever had was brief eye contact on the bus, recognizing each other from their trips, before taking their usual spots. She would watch him as he got on the bus, dressed in his jeans and running shoes, the same backpack for two years now, never looking quite as heavy as hers. He would discreetly watch her on the bus, too, dressed in her plaid kilt, blazer, and dress shoes, the private school uniform she wore the loudest thing about her during their half-hour ride into the city.

When they would get off the bus, the boy would walk about 15 paces ahead of her through the neighbourhood until he got to his high school. The girl would carry on walking to the next block to St. Anne’s Academy, the private, Catholic, all-girls school that so many of his friends thought to prowl for girlfriends when they exhausted all their options in their social circle and grade. It had the best reputation in Lancaster, in all of Pennsylvania almost. All the girls got into the top programs at the top universities; it was a parent’s dream to send their daughter there. All the kids called it the “Virgin Megastore”.

The boy would go on with his school day. He’d attend classes, he’d try to pay attention, he’d joke around and laugh with his friends during their lunch. If it was a nice day, they’d go outside and throw a football; if it wasn’t, they’d usually be too loud in the hallways, up to some sort of shenanigans. The girl would go on with her school day. She’d attend classes, paying attention to every detail and participating often, she’d joke around and laugh with her friends during their lunch. If it was a nice say, they’d sit in the quad and gossip; if it wasn’t, they’d head to the library to finish their homework and study. When it was all done and school let out, they’d wait together at the same bus stop, not speaking or acknowledging each other. They’d board the bus and sit in their usual seats, not speaking or acknowledging each other. Once they were back in their town, the girl would get off first, at the stop on Mulberry Street, where there were older, grander, more historic homes he was sure she lived in. A few minutes later, and one neighbourhood over, he’d get off at his stop, down the street from his grandma’s house where he was living with his brother and mom.

The next day, they’d do the same song and dance all over again.

After two years of seeing someone every day besides the weekends and summers, the boy and the girl started to notice things about each other. The girl noticed that the boy was growing out his hair. The boy noticed that the girl almost always had red nail polish on. The girl noticed that the boy brought a gym bag with him too now for a new sport he was probably playing. The boy noticed that the girl got a new cell phone, one of those Blackberry Pearl phones that was so popular these days. Still, neither said a word.

That was until one day. The boy waited for the bus as he always did, and when it stopped in front of him he lugged himself on, paying his fare. When he looked toward the all-too-familiar spot beside the window, there wasn’t just the girl’s face he was looking at. There was a new face, an unfamiliar face, right beside hers.

“What books do you girls read in class?”

He watched as the girl’s faced grimaced. “Oh, you know, a lot of them.”

“Tell me their names. Let’s see if I’ve read one and we can talk about it together.”

“I—I’m reading Jane Eyre right now.”

“D’you like it?”

“Y—Yeah. It’s—it’s really good.”

“You seem like such a smart girl. And beautiful, too. How ‘bout you tell me about it?”

Just by those words alone, the boy knew the girl was in trouble. But when she looked up and saw him, and he saw the pleading look in her eyes, he knew he had to spring into action. He took a few big steps towards where the guy was sitting beside her and loomed over them. “Hey,” he said, in such a tone that made it seem like they’d known each other their whole lives. “Can we get some studying done right now? I have that big test in history first period, remember?”

The boy never saw a look of relief wash over someone’s face as quickly as it did on the girl’s. “Yeah, of course,” she sprung up from her seat. “Let’s move to the back so our conversation doesn’t annoy everyone else on the bus.”

The guy looked annoyed. Angry, even, about the boy’s intervention. “You two know each other?” he grumbled.

“I’m his tutor,” the girl said in a much more confident voice than what the boy first heard out of her before he intervened.

They walked towards the back seats, the boy letting her slip in to the inside seat before he sat right beside her, taking out his history textbook for good measure and opening it in front of them. “Thank you,” the girl whispered.

“Are you okay?”

The girl didn’t answer. Instead, she flipped through the pages of his history textbook, trying not to look up at the guy who was still trying not to stare at them. “French Revolution, right? Let’s recap Robespierre,” she said loud enough. “Name three effects his policies had on the working class of France.”

Both of them watched discreetly as the guy took a final, angry look at them before getting off the bus. As the bus moved off from the spot, and they got away from eye view of the guy on the sidewalk, the boy could practically feel the girl let out the breath she was holding as she watched the guy disappear from their view. “Are you okay?” the boy asked again, now that they were alone.

“I think so. He came and sat beside me once he saw me sit down. He made a comment about my school uniform. It was really creepy,” the girl explained.

“That is creepy. I’m sorry that happened.”

There was a silence between the two as the bus made its way down the road. The boy took the initiative to grab his textbook and put it in his backpack again. When he was done, there was still silence. “Is that what you’re learning in history? The French Revolution?” he asked. She nodded. “I don’t even know who or what a Robespierre is.”

The joke made the girl smile, made her finally look at him. The first thing she noticed was his blue eyes. “I’m Violet by the way. What’s your name?”

“Austin.”

“You go to Lancaster West High?” she asked, looking down at his jeans.

Austin nodded. “And you go to St. Anne’s Academy,” he said as more of a statement, eyeing the intricately stitched coat of arms on her blazer.

Violet nodded. “I guess they don’t have AP World History at Lancaster West High? You’d know Robespierre, then.”

“No, we don’t,” he said. And then it hit him. She probably wanted to study. She was telling him she was taking AP World History and here he was bothering her when she wanted, needed to study. AP kids always wanted to study – not that he knew any, but he’d heard things. “Okay, well, I’ll go back to my usual seat so you can get your studying done or whatever,” he said, almost mumbling.

Before Violet could even say anything, she watched as Austin got up and moved to where he usually sat, keeping his backpack in his lap as he took out a pair of headphones. Had she said something offensive about the AP World History comment? She was just trying to make a joke. Apparently, she’d fucked it all up. She wanted to go up and tell him, ‘I swear I don’t bite, I swear!’ or something like ‘I didn’t mean it, I was just trying to be witty!’ but she was frozen in her seat, frozen watching him as he listening to music, frozen in her seat as the bus entered Lancaster twenty-five minutes later.

When they got off the bus, she wanted to approach him. But he was too fast even then. Thirty paces ahead, this time, instead of his usual. So far ahead that as he walked up the walkway to the main doors of his school, he didn’t see her standing on the sidewalk, watching him as he ran away from her.

***

“That’s how you guys met? Really?” Tyson exclaimed as both Austin and Violet took turns telling the story for his entire Twitch stream to hear. In the background, Hazel was swooning from the bean bag chair, her hands clasped over her heart dramatically.

“Yeah. We were sixteen,” Violet confirmed. “Junior year. Can you believe it?”

“You’ve put up with him for that long?” Tyson quipped.

“Hey now,” Austin warned facetiously. “You watch your mouth.”

“Guys, that is so sweet!” Hazel cried in the background. “What are you guys so sweet for?”

Austin chuckled, not being able to stop himself as he reached for Violet’s hand and squeezed tight. “Feels just like yesterday,” he said as he looked into her eyes lovingly.

Tyson pretended to gag. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

#adam cole #adam cole fic #adam cole fan fic #adam cole fanfic #adam cole imagine #aew #aew fic #aew fan fic #aew fanfic #aew imagine #wwe #wwe fic #wwe fan fic #wwe fanfic #wwe imagine #adam cole x ofc #adam cole x oc #so high school series

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deldeldel90 · 11 months ago

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the half-puppy Lance au ... With Blaine, who's a few years older than Lance himself, and Isolde, who'll do anything to hide it from Leland. Blaine holds his baby brother, in his arms, firm enough so he won't drop and where he can't feel Blaine's trembling fingers---his hair is fluffy, cut croppy and short, his tanned skin is warm and sunny. He has canine-sharp teeth, floppy dog ears, a fluffy tail. He is so small in Blaine's arms.

He's taken away quickly enough. Father doesn't permit discussion of their dead child. Mother is silent. Blaine doesn't talk about him, doesn't look for him---and then, after some time, he convinces himself that it was all a childhood dream. An imaginary friend. He grew up.

But that child was growing up, too. Six years younger than him, he's alive. Although not as much as their husbands, Queens do have some power. Especially when it concerns a matter the king's servants are especially loyal about.

Prince Lance is alive.

Isolde is the one hiding him, at first, not sure if she was cursed or if animal parts just run rarely in her family. She places hoods over his head and, with how much Leland travels and leaves them, it's easy to keep it. to isolate baby Lance, keeping him confined to his bedroom and to a select few maids shed trusted with her own life.

But Lance isn't a quiet child. He kicks and he whines and he finds bursts of energy that can't be pushed down. He's a sociable one, one with bouncy feets and a wagging tail. He wants to talk to people. He wants to laugh, and the jokes in his picture books have gotten a little stale. He needs people, and he's rarely ever seen outside his room. The cellar, the hidden basement, is painted a light blue. He imagines that's the color of the sky.

Lance is five, and he is so, so, so bored. Like, really bored. There's only so many times he can talk out loud to himself and pretend he's having a real, actual conversation.

So... For once, he sneaks out. He's five but he's watched his mama--mama wolf, he thinks of her--open the lock multiple times, after visiting him. Tucking him into bed most nights. He finds his way out of the basement, racing up the stairs and pounding each floor with his socks. His ear twitches in curiosity as he travels the lands he's never seen.

A part of him is scared, so scared. He doesn't know where he is and what Mama'll think if she finds out. He smells a polish of some kind, and then-- a familiar scent. He's drawn to it immediately.

(After all, a dog never forgets their pack.)

He opens the door, perched on his heels, twisting the knob.

He finds a lonely eleven-year-old boy. He's playing pretty songs on this glossy-black thing he doesn't know the name of.

Lance, brave as ever, walks up to him and then, suddenly, he plops down onto the floor and watches as the boy startles. "Who- who- who are you?!" He gasps.

Despite how much he wants to be, he's not very good at actual conversation. Sure, he's talked to himself plenty, those out loud ramblings as he played with himself, but the only communication he had was with the nice ladies who came to him, the butler who taught him not to chew with his mouth open, and his mama.

...This is his brother.

Family.

Pack.

Lance jumps onto the long, wooden stool his brother was sitting on and curls up into his chest. Brother, he can tell, his nose twitching. His tail snaps back and forth uncontrollably. Brother, brother- Blaine.

His brother pulls back at him, like he's trying to push Lance off, which is really mean, and then, he utterly freezes.

"...Lance," he starts.

Lance nods enthusiastically. Yeah!!, it's me, bro!! He nearly says. "Lance," he says. But Blaine still looks at him weirdly.

He hugs Lance, though. That's what matters. Deep, fundamental love settles in Lance's heart, it's loyal and absolutely consuming, the kind he feels for his mama and all the people who take care of him. All his stuffed animals he's taken as friends.

(he's never asked them If they think he's cool. He hopes so.)

After a while, Blaine releases him. Lance is met with immediate yearning to be back in his brother's hug, back with his family. But he's let go. "Go back," Blaine commands, his voice sounds like it's coming from a raw, torn throat.

His brother doesn't look like he knows it's Lance. His eyes look confused.

A pout tugs at Lance's lips. He follows his brother's orders, though. It feels right to.

The next day, neither Blaine nor Mama came to see him. And then-- there's this pain he feels. His heart hurts.

Missy June gives him his waffles and, with a wary, scolding glance to him, she ruffles his hair as she says, "you've caused a lot of trouble, Mister."

"Mama...?" He questions, feeling guilt swirl his heart. he doesn't understand it, but he knows he's done bad.

she confirms clippy, "and the crown prince."

"I'm sorry," he says, something lodged in his throat. He cuts up his waffles with the red-plastic butter knife. The butter'd already spread in the square crevices. But Missy June can't accept it. She's not Mama.

The next hour is bad. Really, really bad.

Lance senses an argument between the two people he cares most about. He whines into his pillow, sad eyes going big and glassy. He paws at one of his many plushies, drawing it closer to him.

Then, there's a lightness that spreads within him, a pounding in his heart. He doesn't know what, but he knows it's something.

There's a knock. The door opens without a key.

"We'll have to get that replaced," he hears a woman's voice say.

It's open.

His brother enters, determination glowing in his red eyes. His Mama's right behind him. They're both not smiling- their faces are too tight and too focused- but Lance is.

Lance is grinning, and his tail is wagging so so much.

#lance has either doberman or rottweiler energy #cursed princess club #cpc au #cpc isolde #cpc blaine #cpc lance #mini fic??

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changingplumbob · 5 months ago

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Villareal: Chapter 6, Part 14

A chill but speedy Friday with my pixels.

CW: Moderate sim spice. Content Warning Guide

For ease of reading if the toddlers are trying to say real words I'll put the English in brackets. Luna (mummy) and Devin (mama) use some German and Italian. Bambino/s (Italian) Male child/children Caro (Italian) Dear

The family are sitting down to pasta when Rilian notices Devin’s hair is different…

Rilian: Mama hair? How?

Devin: Caro, it’s called being the watchers favourite. Don’t even need a salon

Alfred: What watcher

Luna: Your Mama and Zio think there is someone watching over us in our life, helping us out and keeping us safe. I don’t but you get to believe whatever you want. Many other sims think the watcher exists

Devin: The watcher loves us bambinos, you can tell

Rilian: How

Alfred: *sings song of watcher adoration*

Devin: Little things. We’re very lucky, always dressed nicely…

Joey: We’re generally happier than the average sim and have nicer names to. There are other things but you’re too young to understand loading screens yet

Luna: It’s a big concept

Rilian: We big

Devin: Well you don’t have to decide if you believe in the watcher or not tonight. And no matter what Mama and Mummy will still love you

Dinner finishes and the toddlers get sorted for bed. Joey knows what he thinks, no nephews of his will grow up not believing in the watcher. Mod dangers lurk everywhere, the boys must be prepared! And stepping back from the paranoid sim…

Devin practices some of the scripts she’s been sent before bed to see how she feels about the characters. There are some interesting ones, she’ll have to get Luna to read them when she has time.

Luna: They’re asleep, shall we turn in

Devin: I hope you didn’t mind me talking about the watcher

Luna: They had to be introduced to the idea sometime. Now come to bed

In the morning Devin tries once again to bring Luna around to the idea of a watcher.

Devin: So how do you think my hair changed

Luna: Plenty of people have sudden hair changes, just look at your sisters

Devin: And you don’t think your brothers look more polished recently?

Luna: I suppose they have tidied themselves up a bit

Devin: Lu the watcher let me impregnate you, how can you not believe in them

Luna: I’m trying it’s just… if there is a watcher why won’t they give me answers about my mum

Devin: Oh... I can get that view. But Lu the watcher works on her own timeframe, I’m sure one day we’ll find out

Luna: Well when we do, then I’ll believe. Deal?

Devin: Deal!!! The watcher is going to help me with this I know it

Following a breakfast where Alfred scoffed and Rilian barely made a dent Devin shepherds the twins to the bathroom. Luna and Joey head to their jobs while Devin makes sure each twin gets squeaky clean. Afterwards the trio move to the master bedroom where Devin works on her acting skill. She reaches level 10! Alfred also maxes his communication skill!

Following a quick trip to Tartosa to give Calista and Aaron some family photos the twins spend their afternoon working on their motor skill while Devin gets her workout in. Look at her doing those laps without even shaking her sunglasses off! Swim done she watches the bambinos while knitting a gift for everyone’s favourite rooster, Mr Cluckton himself!

With Cassandra’s eldest having school responsibilities now the regular Friday best friends lunch play date has shifted to dinner time. Devin gives Cassandra her gift for Cluckton and the Nishidake family and Chopra family descend on the picnic basket for some fish pie and bagels. Unfortunately most are sad due to a mod but hey, at least the gang is together!

Following the picnic Joey gets a notification that he’s matched with another sim who is down for no strings fun. Inviting her in he has to admit to himself that she’s not his normal type (his panel said he found her unattractive, excuse me sir) but woohoo is woohoo and he’s always happy to get some. She expresses interest in his jacuzzi tub so taking her by the hand he shows her.

Joey: The water is good, come on in

Starting to remove her dress Luisa hesitates for a second

Luisa: I should probably tell you… just so you’re not crazy shocked… umm… I probably don’t have the pixel parts you’re expecting

Joey: You see yourself as a woman right? Your profile said

Luisa: Yes…

Joey: Then that’s how I see you. The water in here is good no matter what you do or don’t have under that dress

Luisa exhales in relief and strips off to climb in beside him.

Luisa: Sorry for being weird I’ve just had some… bad reactions

Joey: Clearly jerks. I have to tell you though, this is new to me. Tell me what you want me doing or not doing. I want this to be as good for you as I can see it being for me. I don’t want you being uncomfortable

Luisa: I have a feeling I won’t be. Something is telling me I clicked on the right profile

Joey: It’s my eyes isn’t it? The perfect kind of chocolate to drown in

Luisa laughs and leans down to close the gap between them with a kiss.

Nightmare alert! Poor Rilian has been chased by a monster into a lake of fire. Waking up sad he goes to try find his parents. In their room Luna is working on her next lecture and Devin is practicing her guitar. They both stop when the crying toddler walks in and bundles him up with kisses. Luna carries him to bed and Devin settles him down while Luna tucks in Alfred, making sure he stays asleep. Devin only has to read a few pages before Rilian returns to dreamland, hopefully with less fire.

Pulling the door of the nursery shut the pair are alone in their room where Luna dips Devin into a passionate kiss.

Luna: You are such a wonderful woman

Devin: I’m inspired by my wife *kisses* I know I wanted to wait for a third kid but maybe that was just me being a coward. I shouldn’t assume you’ll get postpartum depression again

Luna: And I shouldn’t assume I won’t be affected again. Perhaps we just need another solution like a surrogate or a science baby

Devin: Do you know how much I love you

Luna: I imagine it’s almost as much as I love you

Undressing each other the pair head to bed.

Luna admits that if she can’t find out if her mother had postpartum depression, it’s wise to avoid her getting pregnant again. And of course Devin has her career to think of, a career where she needs to be in shape. But a baby… they both want another baby. They’ll have to look into the options but they have faith a solution is out there for them. One they can find together.

That’s it for now for the Villareals, see you later Del Sol Valley!

Previous ... Next (Nishidake)

#sims 4 #the sims #the sims 4 #simblr #ts4 #my sims #ChangingPlumbobStorytime #R0906 #DevinVillareal #LunaVillareal #AlfredVillareal #RilianVillareal #JoeyYork #Active Simblr

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a-random-fan4444 · 2 years ago

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Grand-Evil-Pa au: Dinner With BigMama (part 1)

A continuation of this post.

Also art at the end of the outfits.

Casey Jr panics about what to wear, from watching TV with Huginn and Muninn he’s suppose to be fancy at a restaurant. He’s tried on different suits all of which the gargoyles judged until they decided on something dark blue. The gargoyles help him style his hair in a presentable braid. All in all he cleans up very nicely.

Meanwhile Draxum doesn’t bother to even polish him armor. It takes a lot a convincing for him to allow the Gargoyles to braid his hair, and to get him to throw on a (clip on) bow.

Arriving at the Hotel they’re greeted by Big Mama who’s wearing a dark purple dress with acid green gems. A sign of her wealth, and a subtle jab at Draxum. Green like the mutagen Draxum’s trying to recreate, green like the turtles, green like the color of envy. One must play mind games not only with their words but also their presentation.

Like Draxum, Big Mama’s assistant also threw on a bow and called it a day.

Casey Jr feels overdressed for the occasion now, fearful that this could somehow offend Big Mama. On the contrary, Big Mama coos all over him, even going so far as to pinch his cheeks. She’s overjoyed to see the “adorable” face behind the mask.

Draxum: “We’re here, we can start now”

Big Mama: “Oh don’t rush things Draxy! We’ll speak business after dinner! Come along munchie boos our reservation’s at 4:00 and we wouldn’t want to be late!”

Casey Jr: “reservation?”

Big Mama: “We’re eating out. Don’t worry I’ve made arrangements for us to be the only occupants. I know Draxum’s probably filled your head with worries about being seen, a shame he wants to keep such an adorable face like yours hidden.”

Draxum’s fuming, Big Mama isn’t being subtle at all with her remarks. The cherry on top being the unexpected restaurant trip. He had expected her host the dinner at her hotel, playing on her rules, but going to a restaurant was unexpected. He doesn’t know what she’s planning but he knows to be cautious.

They arrive at “Hole in a Wall”, greeted by Hueso himself. Guiding them inside an indeed empty restaurant to an elegant table already set for them. Hueso doesn’t comment on their human guest, knowing better than to question powerful yoki less he want his restaurant shut down. Except it rather hard when said human was staring at him, unnerving for it wasn’t one of bewilderment but rather recognition.

In his distraction Casey Jr let’s Big Mama guide him to sit next to her leaving Draxum and her assistant to sit across from them.

Big Mama: “Tell me about yourself, how long have you been staying with your ‘grandfather’. You seem to have been a rather well taken care of secret, seeing as Draxum’s kept his lips zippity tight about you.”

Casey Jr: “Uhm, well, you see, uhhh, the thing is-”

Draxum: “He’s been in my custody for a few months now. What about you? This is around the time you lost the best Battle Nexus Champion.”

Oof sore spot, but Draxum needs to change the subject away from Casey Jr. Big Mama’s Assistant seems to perk up in interest/snap to attention at the subject change. Meanwhile Casey Jr frowns his brows in though, trying to recall what they’re referring to. There was a lot of drama in the pre-Kraang past, it was getting hard to keep up but he was vaguely familiar with most it (having heard most of it as the focus of bedtime stories growing up.)

Big Mama: “My Battle Nexus Champion you mean. What an ugly subject to bring up during dinner Draxy-poo. Here I am trying to extent an olive branch and here you go trying to burn it. The loss of Lou is still a fresh wound.”

Casey Jr still trying to figure things out: “Lou, Lou, Lou, oh Lou Jitsu! We’re talking about pop-pop!”

Casey Jr looks down embarrassed by how long it took him to finally connected the dot, and how he basically shouted. Draxum swells with pride because while Casey Jr hadn’t done it intentionally, he had still managed leave Big Mama at a loss words, an impressive feat. Big Mama’s Assistant subtly taps Big Mama with her foot under the table. The tap ended being stronger than intended as Big Mama’s assistant herself was surprised because the kid said “pop-pop” when referring to the Lou Jitsu. The same Lou Jitsu she watched for hours trying to replicate his moves, the same fighter Big Mama was so infatuated with, the greatest battle nexus champion ever.

Edit: I forgot to add the art I did for Big Mama’s and Casey Jr’s outfits. 🥲 oh well! Here it is now:

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out-with-the-boys · 2 months ago

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The Dance- Chapter 12

Homelander x Supe OC

Notes: 18+ No warnings apply for this chapter. Each chapter will have individual content warnings as they apply to avoid spoilers. Find this work on AO3. Tumblr master post here.

Previous chapter.

Morgan stared at her reflection, but her eyes didn’t focus on anything in particular. The mirror reflected back the same composed exterior she wore every day, but inside, she felt like she was fraying at the edges. She ran her hand through her hair, an unconscious gesture, but her thoughts stayed tangled in the same knot they’d been trapped in since the kiss.

The kiss.

No matter how much she tried to push it from her mind, it lingered there, an unwanted reminder of how far things had spiraled out of her control. Homelander had played it off as if nothing had happened, smiling with that unnerving confidence, as if he knew something she didn’t. He seemed pretty confident that he knew how this would end before it had even started.

And that terrified her.

Because the truth was, she didn’t know how to deal with him. The usual strategies—playing it safe, keeping a low profile—none of them seemed to work anymore. She had spent so much time trying to stay ahead of him, but with each passing day, it felt like the ground was slipping beneath her feet. And now, she was painfully aware that he was watching, waiting for her to fall.

She sighed, breaking the stare with her reflection. It didn’t matter what she looked like. She wasn’t fooling herself anymore, and she sure as hell wasn’t fooling Homelander.

Donning her armor for the first time in weeks, she couldn’t even pretend that it could protect her from the approaching storm. All she could do was pray she didn’t back herself further into a corner. And if push came to shove…

Banishing the thought from her mind, she gave her head a slight shake and made her way out of her apartment. Ashley had called for a meeting among The Seven to talk about potentially adding Shockwave to their numbers. A-Train wasn’t officially off the team yet, but he was well on his way out.

It felt like such a trivial worry given the looming congressional hearings. One way or another, they were all going to feel the effects of any outcome that got thrown at them. Still, it was just business as usual for Vought until that point.

As she turned the corner into the conference room, her heart gave a slight stutter in her chest as her eyes immediately met Homelander’s. There was a certain tense quality in the way he smiled at her, but it was still far more genuine than any smile he’d given her in her first weeks at the tower.

“There she is, Miss America.” Stormfront sang, her voice slightly off-key and full of sarcasm.

Morgan forced a smile, though it barely reached her eyes. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her. Save Ashley, she had been the last to arrive. Homelander hadn’t said a word yet, but the silence between them felt charged, like something waiting to snap.

There were two empty seats today, A-train’s usual spot between Stormfront and Black Noir, and then there was the seat at Homelander’s right. Before she could even consider swallowing her pride and sitting next to Stormfront, Homelander patted the back of the seat beside him, inviting her with a slight raise of his brows.

She could have turned down the invitation. She could have made a big scene. She could have done any number of things to put distance between herself and him, but there was something in her that just couldn’t do it.

With a long, quiet exhale, she gifted him a gracious smile and made her way over to take the offered seat.

“Your armor sure polished up nice.” he remarked, his tone light. There was a hidden undercurrent in his thoughts, however. This amiable small-talk was all part of a plot to charm her and draw her back in. To him, it was inevitable.

“Yeah, it took some doing, but you can’t really tell I had a building dropped on me anymore.” Morgan responded with just enough casual warmth to match his energy. Though, her eyes did flit toward Stormfront for the briefest moment, sharp and full of resentment.

Before their small talk could get any further, Ashley came trotting into the room, her heels clicking frantically across the floor. Included in her usual armful of folios, tablet and other paperwork, she was awkwardly balancing a vase full of colorful flowers.

“So sorry I’m running behind, “ she said breathlessly. “These got dropped on my desk by mistake. These are for you, Psyren.”

Immediately she could sense confusion from everyone in the room, Homelander included. Staring at the arrangement as Ashley set it on the end of the table, she racked her brain, trying to think of who could have possibly sent flowers and why. There was a certain significance to the date, but it seemed odd that someone would send flowers.

“Is there a card with them?” Morgan asked, rising out of her seat to get a better look.

“Oh, yeah, it’s right here.” Ashley said, fishing it out of the blooms. Before she could pass it over to Morgan, however, Stormfront snatched the card from her hands and began to read it aloud.

“Thinking of you today. I’m sure celebrating Dad’s birthday so soon after his passing is going to be hard. Hopefully this brightens things up a little. Love, Charlie.” As she read, her voice got progressively more saccharine with each word, and Morgan could feel her pulse begin to quicken.

Morgan’s fingers twitched at her side, her nails pressing lightly into her palm as she kept her expression as neutral as possible. Her mind raced, trying to process the unexpected gesture, the timing, and—more than anything—the fact that Stormfront had made the private so painfully public.

She could feel Homelander shift slightly beside her, his smile dimming, and the atmosphere between them thickened. She didn’t need to look at him to know how he was taking this. Charlie’s name on the card, the implication of intimacy, the reminder that someone else still had a foothold in her life—it all hung in the air like a challenge.

“Charlie?” Maeve echoed, her brow furrowed slightly. “Who the hell is Charlie?”

“My idiot ex-husband.” Morgan nearly snarled, already having to reign in her temper.

“The same ‘idiot ex-husband’ you still share a last name with?” Homelander asked pointedly.

The room seemed to grow quieter, the weighty implication of Homelander’s words settling over the table like a blanket of unease. Morgan’s fingers flexed again at her side, her pulse quickening in frustration. She hadn’t even noticed how much keeping Daly as her last name had irked him until now.

“Yes,” she said slowly, careful to keep her voice even. “The same last name I’ve kept for legal purposes. Nothing more.”

Homelander gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, but the tightness around his eyes didn’t ease. He leaned back in his chair, as though he had nothing to worry about, but the tension between them remained palpable.

Across the table, Starlight glanced from Morgan to Homelander, her brow furrowed as though trying to piece together the history that had suddenly bubbled to the surface. Even Black Noir seemed more still than usual, the unreadable lenses of his mask trained on Morgan.

“Legal purposes or not, it’s sweet, isn’t it?” Stormfront purred, her smirk widening as she leaned forward, clearly loving the spectacle. “Sending flowers on a day like today… he must still care, right?”

Morgan’s jaw tightened. “That’s not what this is.”

The white-hot rage that bubbled inside her spilled over as she looked at the floral arrangement again. Charlie had been toeing a dangerous line since they first ran into each other at the tower. Somewhere in that self-centered brain of his, he seemed to think that he was worthy of her forgiveness and he had tried more than once to weasel his way back into her good graces.

“That son of a bitch.” she hissed, her telekinesis surging, causing the vase and the flowers to burst in a controlled explosion of petals and glass.

There wasn’t time to assess the startled reactions of her teammates as she stormed out of the conference room. Ashley’s desperate pleas for her to come back were all in vain. For the moment, all Morgan could hear was the rush of her pulse in her ears.

Stalking down the hallway, nearly colliding with the shoulders of a handful of people as she rushed for the elevator, she reached out her mind to find Charlie’s. It was still business hours, and she could sense him several floors down in his office. Even now, he was perfectly proud of himself, hoping that she’d gotten his message.

Roughly slamming the side of her fist against the button to summon the elevator, she fought to keep her breaths deep and measured. As the elevator doors slid open, Morgan stepped inside, her thoughts a dark thunderhead roiling overhead. She could feel the heat in her chest, the desire to put Charlie firmly in his place buzzing in her mind like static.

But just before the doors could close, Homelander’s hand shot between them, holding the elevator open. He stepped inside, calm and composed, as if nothing had happened. The doors sealed shut, trapping them together in the small, suffocating space.

Morgan clenched her fists, her telekinesis still humming at the edges of her control. “What do you want, Homelander?”

His smile widened, but it didn’t quite match the fire in his eyes. “Just making sure you don’t do something you’ll regret.”

If anything, it seemed like he’d rather do the ‘something she might regret’ instead. The mental images of him pulling Charlie apart limb from limb should have disturbed her much more than they did.

Morgan’s breath hitched as he reached out and hit the emergency stop button, halting the elevator part way between floors 99 and 82. As the car shuddered to a gentle stop, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall with a hard swallow. This wasn’t going to go anywhere productive.

“You looked like you were about to do something stupid,” he said, his voice soft, almost mocking. He leaned against the wall, watching her like a cat waiting to pounce. “Charlie really got under your skin, huh?”

Her jaw clenched as Homelander’s words slithered into her mind. He was too close now, his presence suffocating, and no matter how hard she tried to stay grounded, it felt like the walls were closing in. His gaze burned into her, daring her to fight back, but she knew it wouldn’t matter. Somewhere in all the chaos, she’d made a grave miscalculation.

There was a variable she forgot to account for in everything she had done thus far. She never counted on her own emotions getting in the way of things.

“This really isn’t any of your business.” she muttered, eyeing the keypad near the door. There wasn’t much chance she could get to it without him interfering though.

“You know, if you let me handle this, it wouldn’t even be an issue.” he murmured enticingly, brushing off her attempt to deflect him. “I could take care of him, of everything, and you wouldn’t have to lift a finger. You already know, don’t you? What I’m thinking? What I’d do for you?”

Her hesitation was too much. In her silence, she very nearly gave him permission. However, as he reached to start the elevator back up, her hand shot out and curled around his wrist. A lot of good that would have done…

“No.” she said firmly, leveling him with a grave look. Morgan’s grip on his wrist tightened for a brief second before she released him, her breath coming out in sharp bursts. Her pulse thrummed in her ears, but the rage that had fueled her moments ago now simmered into something colder.

“No,” she repeated, her voice quieter but sharper, her gaze piercing into his. “You think I’d just let you… tear him apart and be done with it? I have had to live with the weight of his bullshit for years.”

Homelander’s eyes flickered with surprise, but he didn’t pull away. If anything, he leaned in closer, his head tilting slightly as though appraising her in a new light. “You’d rather drag it out, wouldn’t you? Make him squirm a little longer?”

The silence in the elevator gradually grew more oppressive, his accusation hanging in the air between them. For a moment, she didn’t respond. His expression was caught between intrigue and something far more dangerous.

“You’re playing the long game,” he murmured, his voice low and almost reverent. “I didn’t realize you had it in you.”

Chest rising with a deep breath, she felt like she was about to come apart. Already, she had tried to tell him that she wasn’t a saint. Of course, some part of her fought to keep the high ground she longed to stand on, but there was still that ugly, twisted part of her that lurked in the deepest recesses of her soul.

“He abandoned me when I needed him most,” she said, her voice trembling. It was hard to say whether the reminder was for him, or if it was for her. Her resolve was wavering, and she wasn’t sure which way she wanted it to fall. “He doesn’t get to pretend like he didn’t hurt me. He doesn’t get to try and stay in my life like nothing ever happened.”

Homelander’s expression softened, almost disarmingly so, as if he could sense just how fragile her resolve had become. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly, and stepped closer, closing the space between them.

“He doesn’t deserve to be in your life, you’re right,” he said, his voice low, coaxing. “So why are you letting him? Why are you letting him crawl back in after everything he’s done to you? You could end it, you know. Take control. Stop letting him pull the strings.”

His words were smooth, but they carried something darker beneath. He wasn’t suggesting outright violence anymore, not directly, but there was a promise of something more in his gaze. Something final. Something that would put an end to Charlie’s presence once and for all.

His fingers slid over the smooth metal of her armor until his fingertips met hers, lingering just enough to make her breath hitch.

“You’re stronger than this, stronger than him.” He continued, stepping even closer until the faint brush of his hand found her arm. The irony of his words wasn’t lost on her either. He had gone and twisted her own words and thrown them back in her face. “You don’t have to be the saint anymore, Morgan. He doesn’t deserve your mercy.”

Morgan felt a tightness in her throat as the idea took root in her mind in such a beautifully tempting way. He wasn’t shouting, wasn’t pushing—he was simply there, his fingers gently tangling with hers, offering her a chance to let go. To stop holding on so tightly to the person she thought she should be.

“I can’t…” Her voice wavered, trembling as the dam inside her began to break. Her shoulders sagged, and suddenly, the walls that had been holding her upright for so long seemed to crack. “He doesn’t deserve to get out of it so easily.”

The world pressed in on her, the weight of it all crashing down. Homelander moved closer, his arm moved to slip around her waist with a soft but unyielding grip, pulling her toward him. It felt less like dominance and more like protection in that moment, the way his fingers splayed against her side.

“You don’t have to keep fighting this alone,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, his lips dangerously close to her ear. “I’m here.”

Morgan closed her eyes, letting a wave of emotion crash over her. The last of her resistance crumbled, and for a moment, she let herself be vulnerable, exposed. Her eyes met his, and for the first time, she wasn’t fighting. She wasn’t strong enough, not for this, not anymore. It felt like everything was unraveling, and maybe, just maybe, letting someone else take control for once would be easier.

She swallowed, her voice barely audible. “You can’t… You can’t hurt him.”

Homelander’s grip tightened ever so slightly around her waist, his lips curving into a smile, though there was a dangerous glint in his eyes. With a soft touch, he carefully brushed an errant lock of red hair behind her ear. “I won’t.”

Swallowing hard, her pulse fluttered wildly in her chest as Homelander’s touch lingered at the side of her neck. It felt like the only thing holding her steady as the storm of emotions swirled inside her. Her chest tightened, and she turned her head slightly, her eyes shuttering closed as she fought a losing battle against the overwhelming urge to stay.

He was too close, too much, but in that same breath, it wasn’t enough.

Morgan’s breath caught in her throat, her mind racing in too many directions at once. She wasn’t thinking clearly anymore, and maybe that’s why she found herself leaning in, just a fraction, toward him. Her gaze lifted to meet his, and a hand came to rest gently against his chest.

“I…” The words caught in her throat, and she didn’t know if she was trying to say something or stop herself from doing what came next.

Before she could think it through, before she could stop herself, she closed the remaining distance between them, her lips brushing his in the softest, most tentative kiss. It wasn’t a passionate act; there was no fire behind it. Instead, it felt like she was grasping at something, anything, to ground herself, to feel less alone.

For a moment, the world seemed to snap to an abrupt halt, the rush of her thoughts silenced by the simple contact. It was as though the sting of her heartache and confusion had melted away, just for a blissful few seconds.

She pulled back slowly, barely more than an inch, the tip of her nose brushing lightly against his as she let out a shaky breath, not daring to open her eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t… I just…”

As she stammered, trying to articulate all the messy thoughts that churned in her head, he took a step back. He stepped back, but his hand moved to hold hers as he touched the keypad on the elevator to start it moving again. The softest smile was tucked into the corners of his lips, and he only glanced away for just a moment to press the button for the underground parking.

For just a moment, her brows furrowed in confusion, but the moment she saw where his train of thought led, she couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh of disbelief.

“Don’t worry.” he reassured her. “I won’t lay a finger on him, unless you say so.”

As far as Charlie’s fancy new Land Rover was concerned, however… That was another story.

Song: I Gave You All by Mumford and Sons Author’s notes: Man, as awful as Charlie was to Morgan, I could kiss that man. He’s served as an unexpectedly great catalyst for this story. I’ve actually had Morgan as a character for a very long time, and Charlie was always part of her backstory for just a bit of flavor. Originally she was made for an MMO called City of Heroes and I’ve slowly poked at her character over a couple of decades now. I just love that I finally stumbled into The Boys and she seems to fit in so nicely. At least, I think she does. You’ll have to let me know what you think!

Next chapter.

#homelander #homelander fanfiction #homelander fic #homelander x oc

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accio-sriracha · 1 year ago

Note

a marylily fic please? <3

YAY ONE I HAVE NEVER WRITTEN BEFORE!

Thank you so much for the request! I hope this is alright for my first attempt haha

I bring you all the good fluff and stuff and a LOT of pining.

~~~♤~~~

When Words Fail, My Heart Finds Yours...

~~~♤~~~

Lily Evans climbed the stairs to the astronomy tower, grateful to finally have some time alone. She loved all of her friends, but sometimes being a part of the popular group was... well it was a lot.

"Room for one more?" She asked, knocking gently as she opened the door.

Regulus Black turned from his seat on the half wall, one leg dangling over the edge and a cigarette raised to his lips, "Yeah, c'mon up, Evans." He nodded.

She closed the door behind her, settling against the wall opposite him and dusting off her fishnets. She joined him in watching over the grounds, the people seemed so small from up in the tower.

"You smoke?" He asked, offering her one. She shook her head,

"Not really my thing, no."

He just nodded and turned back to the lawn.

They had shared each other's company here before, both of them outcasts at heart that somehow found purchase in a well known group of friends. She enjoyed his company, his quiet presence was comforting.

"You watch the game today?" She asked, striking up conversation, "Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuffs."

He shook his head, "I don't normally watch the ones I don't play in." He took another long drag, "What was the score?"

"Gryffindor won, I don't know the numbers."

He gave her an amused look, "If I wasn't a Seeker I'd be pissed at you right now."

She only shrugged, "I've never been one for sports."

"Why do you go?"

"All my friends are either playing or watching, its just easier to be where they are."

He raised an eyebrow, "Is it" He asked. She lifted a shoulder again,

"I suppose."

"Are those friends my brother's group?" He asked. There wasn't any real curiosity in his eyes, she knew he was just trying to keep up the conversation. She nodded,

"Yeah. I'm friends with his boyfriend Remus, Peter and I get along really well, I don't know James too well at all though."

"Do you want to?" He asked.

She could tell he was aiming for casual, tossing the cigarette bud to the ground and stomping it out with his combat boot.

But she could see the sudden interest in his eyes when he looked up at her, carefully blowing the smoke in the other direction.

"I don't know. I suppose I should."

"What do you mean you suppose?"

"Well, you know, everyone said he had a crush on me forever ago. I don't know, he's popular and funny and he's got good manners. I probably should get to know him a little better."

"I am going to be honest with you Evans. I don't give a shit about what other people think. It isn't what you're supposed to do. It's what you want to do. What do you want?"

She hesitated, "I don't know. It would be nice to get to know him..."

"But?" He prompted.

"I was just never really interested before."

"Are you now?"

That look sparked again in his eyes, She wondered what it was about Potter that made his eyes alive, that drew out a stronger reaction than the permanant indifferent expression on his face.

"I'm not sure." She paused, looking to the lake again, "No." She whispered, "I don't like him."

"There's someone else." He guessed, studying her own face.

She hesitated once more before she nodded, "Yeah, there is."

"Alright, come here." He muttered, holding out a hand towars her. His chipped black nail polish identical to her own.

"What?"

"Don't give me that look. Come, sit in front of me." He patted the stone again, still holding out his hand.

She stared at him, waiting to see if this was a joke or not. They'd never shared more than a half hearted, smoke hazed conversation. Each one usually about the bigoted arseholes at their school and how they couldn't wait to get out and make a difference in the world.

Despite her confusion, she does as he says and swings her own converse over the half wall, letting him keep a hand on her waist to make sure she was secure.

Her oversized smashing pumpkins shirt she wore like a dress pooled around her hips, she adjusted it carefully to cover the top of her thighs.

He leans forward a little, dropping his voice,

"May I touch your hair?" He asked quietly, "You're allowed to say no."

She narrowed her eyes and nodded, "Fine. But don't you dare push me."

"Well, seeing as that would be attempted murder, I think you're safe, Evans." He laughed softly.

He gathered up a a small section of her hair into his hands, combing his fingers through it gently and making her already poofy curls even poofier.

"Pandora has me do this for her whenvever we have a serious conversation, it helps her relax." He explained.

Lily couldnt help but smile at the way his voice caught on the word serious, it was amusing to think even all those years ago his brother was still tormenting him with the name.

"Tell me about the person you like."

Lily waited for a long time before she spoke, trying to find the right words to say, "Her name is Mary." She started, testing the waters.

If Regulus was surprised it was a she, he didn't show it, he simply nodded and moved on to combing his fingers through a new section.

Lily took a deep breath, steeling her resolve, "She's popular and she's really close with my other friends Marlene, Dorcas, and Alice. She's the one who introduced me to them first year."

Regulus hummed, keeping his touch light and his movements steady as he moved on to braiding.

Lily could understand now why Regulus' friend has him do this, it was a lot easier to speak now that her body was more relaxed,

"Sometimes I wonder about the way she looks at me y'know. It feels like the way I used to see Remus looking at-" She trailed off, not wanting to force him to hear about his brother's love story, "Well, it's just sometimes I think that maybe she likes me, and she just hasn't told me yet."

She could hear Regulus' breathing, slow and calming, she wondered if he was doing it on purpose for her to slow down her own breaths.

"Do you think you could ask her how she feels?" He asked. Lily shook her head slightly, careful not to mess up the next braid he was starting on,

"I don't know if that's a good idea. What if I'm wrong? Wouldn't that just ruin our friendship forever?"

Regulus hummed again, "It's true, things aren't the same once you cross that line between platonic and romantic, but that doesnt mean you can't still be friends."

She sighed, "What if she hates me for this? We're supposed to be best friends, what if she thinks I'm some sort of creep for having feelings for her?"

Regulus gently touched her shoulder, drawing her eyes up to his, "Evans, you're not abusing your friendship with her in any way. Just you worrying about her feelings through all of this proves that. You have nothing to worry about. I'm sure she will still care for you and respect you the same as she always has."

"What if she doesnt?" She asked. Regulus dropped his eyes. She could see he was struggling with emotions of his own,

"We'll then I'm here if you ever need to do this again." He whispered, turning back to focusing on her hair. He pulled the front pieces forwards and started working on a braid to her left side.

"Thanks." She whispered back. He nodded,

"Anytime."

~~~♤~~~

Lily sat down at lunch, her usual seat between Dorcas and Mary- Marlene and Alice on their other sides- and across from Remus and his friends.

"Where'd you dissappear earlier? I went to ask Mary where you went so I could talk to you about the essay but nobody knew." Remus asked, looking concerned.

Lily shrugged, "I was getting some fresh air. It was a nice morning."

Peter looked up from his plate, "Why do you sound suspicious?" He asked.

Lily's eyes widened, "What?"

Remus placed a hand on his friend's arm, "Wormtail, we've talked about this." He muttered. Peter nodded and went back to his food.

"Talked about what?" Mary asked, joining in on the conversation.

Remus gave a small laugh, "Pete has this weird thing where he can usually tell when people are lying. I had to tell him not to get involved in other people's conversations since it's not always a well received party trick."

"So he thinks she's lying?" Mary asked turning to Lily, "What would you be lying about?"

Peter looked up again, shooting an apologetic look at Remus before clarifying, "I don't think she's lying, just hiding something."

"I'm not hiding anything." She told him, then winced when his eyebrows furrowed, entirely unconvinced.

Sirius looked over then too, noticing Remus' distraction, "What's happening?" He asked, tugging on his boyfriend's sleeve.

Dorcus answered before he could, Lily wasn't even are she'd been paying attention, "Mary's trying to figure out what Lily's hiding."

The way she worded it made Lily's cheeks heat up. She looked away, accidentally finding herself staring at the Slytherin table.

Silver eyes stared back at her, concerned.

This made her blush worse, Regulus cocked an eyebrow.

"I just-" She shook her head, "I just went for some fresh air before lunch, is that really such a crime? Why is everyone getting involved?" She huffed.

"Woah, someone's getting defensive." Marry laughed, poking her side, "C'mon, chica, what's going on?"

Lily could never lie to Mary, it was the one person she never managed to sneak anything past. The name only made her more nervous,

"I was hanging out with Regulus." She blurted.

She hadn't meant to say it, but it was definitley an easier secret to let out than the other one.

Mary's hand stilled on her waist, her eyes wide.

Everyone glanced at Sirius, who sat shocked into stillness, his smile dropping,

"What?" He whispered.

Lily looked past him, Regulus must have read his name on her lips, his own eyes wide with panic.

Sirius turned to look where she was staring, noticing he was already looking too.

"Lily, what the fuck?" He asked quietly.

Sirius and Regulus weren't close, in fact- to everyone who didn't know them- you'd think they hated each other.

But Lily knew the pain on both sides when their names were brought up, she was familiar with Regulus' regretful and pained expression, the one Sirius had on right now.

"You were hanging out with my brother? Why didn't you tell me?" He pressed, waiting for an answer.

She shook her head, "I didn't plan it or anything, it just sort of happened. We both went to the same spot to calm down and ever since it kind of-"

"It's happened more than once?" He hissed.

Remus put a quiet hand on Sirius' arm, his other pulling Sirius' face to look at him.

Sirius let out a breath, closing his eyes for a moment before turning back to Lily, "How um... How is he?" He asked, his voice suddenly small.

"He's okay." She nodded, "Really, he's okay. He misses you."

Sirius looked away, his eyes glued to his and Remus' now interlaced fingers.

"And Potter too, I think." She added, trying to lighten the subject a little.

Potter sat up suddenly, he'd been paying attention ever since he heard her confession about Regulus.

"What? How- when- what?" He stammered.

She shrugged, "I don't really know anything he just acted a little different when we were talking about you." She replied. Maybe bringing up Potter was a bad decision too...

"You- You two... you and him... you talked about me?" He asked incredulously, looking a bit pale now.

She only shrugged, knowing she probably shouldn't say anything else, everything she did seemed to make people panic.

"Prongs? You alright, mate?" Remus asked, looking between both of their pale faces and wide eyes.

James stood from his seat, "I'm gonna head to the bathroom, be right back." He squeaked out before he tumbled over the bench.

Lily turned back to Mary when she felt a sudden hand in her hair, "I like these on you." She whispered, "Did um... did he do them?"

She looked into Mary's eyes, filled with hesitation.

"Yeah, he was trying to help me relax, I guess his friend Pandora and him do it a lot." She spoke without thought.

She really couldn't keep anything from Mary for long. Nothing except the one thing that mattered, the one thing that could tear their friendship apart.

Mary dropped her hand, looking away, "I like that you're making other friends chica. I know it's hard for you sometimes to feel like you fit in here. But just... just be careful okay? I don't want you to get hurt."

Lily frowned, "Reg won't hurt me." She whispered, "We don't really talk much anyways, today was the first time we had a real conversation."

"Do you like him?" She asked.

Lily saw it, that same spark she'd seen in Regulus' eyes when he talked about Potter.

Lily shook her head immediatley, the small braids moving with her, "No, absolutley not. He's a friend... sort of. Nothing more."

Mary nodded, letting out a quiet sigh that sounded like relief, "Okay. You're still my best friend right?" She asked.

"Of course, you'll always be my number one."

Mary pulled her into a hug, her chin resting on Lily's shoulder.

"Love you, chica." She whispered.

"Love you too, Mary." Lily smiled back, tucking her face to hide her blush.

~~~♤~~~

"Hey, do you have any mascara I could borrow?" Mary asked, digging through her makeup bag, "I can't find mine, I think I might've lost it."

It was later that same day, the group was getting ready to go out to hogsmeade. Lily got up from where she sat on Mary's bed, watching her go through her routine,

"Uh... mascara? I think I have that." She nodded.

Lily wasn't that much into makeup, she just loved the way eyeliner looked and sometimes did dark lipstick. Mary was always the one who knew how to use all the shimmery stuff to make herself look different.

"It's a long tube, should say mascara on it." Mary explained, moving on to combing her hair. She used a small brush to gel the little hairs into curvy shapes, it was always Lily's favorite part.

"Here." Lily handed it to her, their fingers brushing together briefly and sending little shocks through her.

"Do you want me to put some on you? I think you look really pretty without any makeup on, but your eyelashes are so long already, they would look good with mascara too."

"On me?" Lily repeated, swallowing hard.

Mary nodded, setting her hair products down and turning to face her, "I don't think you should use and foundation or anything, I really love your freckles." She whispered, her fingers reaching out to brush Lily's cheek.

Lily could feel her face heating up under Mary's stare.

"Thank you." She mumbled.

"Do you mind if I put this on?" Mary asked quietly. Lily shook her head,

"No, I don't mind."

She followed Mary's instructions, sitting on the bathroom counter in front of her. Mary stood between her knees, her fingers holding Lily's face with the lightest touch possible.

"Close your eyes." Mary whispered, a light tickle on her eyelashes startled her and she opened them again.

Mary laughed softly, "It's okay, love, it's just the brush, it won't hurt."

Love. Lily felt her heart flutter.

She nodded and closed her eyes again, letting Mary do whatever it was she was doing.

"Okay, look at me." Mary mumbled. Lily opened her eyes again, finding Mary's quickly. She was biting her lip in concentration, looking at Lily intensely.

It didn't help that their faces were so close together, Lily's heart fluttered faster.

"Blink when I tell you to okay?" She whispered. Lily nodded.

She tried to follow the instructions the best that she could, watching Mary's face as she blinked every other second, the mascara brushing underneath her eyelashes.

"Okay." Mary leaned back a little, "I think it looks good.

She closed the bottle and set it beside them, her hand falling to rest on Lily's thigh.

"You look beautiful, chica." She whispered a soft smile on her lips.

Lily couldn't speak, she could still feel the ghost of Mary's breath across her face, a tingling sensation where her fingers had tipped her chin to get a better angle.

"C'mon, we should find you something to wear." She held out a hand to help Lily down, keeping them together as she walked her to their shared closet.

"I was thinking about the outfit I wore last month, the one with the Fleetwood Mac shirt."

Mary nodded, clapping her hands excitedly, "Ooh, I loved that one! I'm gonna go change, I'll be right out and the bathroom's all yours."

She picked up a pile of clothes from her bed and closed the door behind her. Lily let herself fall back onto the mattress, this had been one very long day.

"Knock, knock." Dorcas walked into the room, followed by Marlene.

"Hey guys." Lily mumbled, not bothering to sit up.

"You alright? Everyone's been worried about you today."

"Yeah I'm okay. Everything's just a little weird right now."

"Yeah, tell me about it." Marlene nodded, "Sirius and Remus haven't left their room all day apparently and James isn't anywhere to be found either. Pete's running around like a chicken with his head cut off, he's got no clue what to do."

Lily laughed softly and shook her head, "I don't know what's up with Potter, but I do feel really bad about hurting Sirius. I didn't mean for anything like that to happen."

"We know, hun." Dorcas walked over and sat down by her side, running a hand through the parts of her hair that weren't pulled into braids, "You and his brother get along, then?"

Lily shrugged, "I guess. It's one of those friends by circumstance situations."

"What do you guys even talk about?" Marlene asked curiously.

Lily's eyes shot to the bathroom before she could stop them, Dorcas raised an eyebrow,

"Does he know?" She asked quietly.

"Yeah, he was talking to me about Potter and then he asked if I liked him and then he could tell there was someone else and it kind of just came out." She let the words whoosh out of her in one breath.

"Hey babes, bathroom is free." Mary called, closing the door with her hip, "Oh, hi guys."

Marlene snorted, "Damn girl, what a weird web you've spun for yourself this time."

Dorcas sighed, "You should just tell her, Lily. It'll make everything a lot easier for both of you."

Dorcas and Marlene shared a look and stood, "We were actually just heading out, see you two in a bit!" Dorcas pulled Marlene out of the room, shooting a look back at Lily.

"Weirdos." Mary smiled as she watched then leave.

"Hey Mary?" Lily whispered. Mary turned,

"What's up?"

"Do you think that-" She cleared her throat, "It's not really important or anything, but I was just wondering if, um..."

Lily looked away again, her face scorching.

Mary frowned and sat down in front of her, "Lils? Talk to me, what's going on?"

Lily shook her head, unable to find her voice.

"Come here." Lily pulled her up and held her against her chest, holding her securely in her arms.

Lily relaxed instantly, letting herself be enveloped by everything Mary.

Her smell, like hairspray and vanilla, her warm voice and caring eyes, her gentle but steady touch.

"I love you, chica." Mary whispered, pulling away to meet eyes.

Lily felt her own get a little wider, the words not forming properly.

Something seemed to click then, Mary's expression changed from worried to searching, hesitation filling her eyes again just like they had at lunch,

"Lily?" She whispered.

Lily looked away.

"I love you." There was something different about the way she said it now, her voice was breathless, her expression serious.

"I love you too, Mary." Lily whispered.

Her eyes dropped to Lily's lips and Lily could feel her entire being freeze in place. Sparks of anticipation shot through her.

Oh, Merlin, how did they end up here?

The next thing she knew she was being pulled into a kiss, her heart slamming against her chest, their hands coming up to hold each other closer.

"I love you." Mary breathed when they broke apart, "Fuck, I love you so much."

"I love you too." Lily smiled, kissing her again, and again, and again, "I always have."

It wasn't exactly the huge, production level confession she was expecting. It was small and wordless, something private and so entirely theirs.

They didn't need to say anything for them both to know exactly how strong they felt for each other, and they walked down the stairs to the common room a half hour later, smiling and holding hands, feeling their friend's eyes on them the whole way.

"We're dating." Mary spoke, breaking the confused silence, she had a proud smile on her face as she looked over at Lily, "This is my girlfriend."

Girlfriend. Lily found she loved that word.

Lily's confession to hanging out with Sirius' brother led them to talking again too. Regulus was brought to their weekend hogsmeade trips, and even sometimes found perched on the arm of the couch in the Gryffindor common room, talking with his brother in low voices and hesitant smiles.

That was probably a good thing, seeing as they would stay girlfriends for a long, long time.

~~~♤~~~

A month had gone by and Lily and Mary were happier than ever, they fit perfectly together, like they were made just for this.

They were all giggles and urgent touches as they flung open a broom closet in a deserted corridor, tumbling inside without breaking their kiss.

A muffled groan of pain and a surprised hiss sounded before the lights flicked on.

Inside, in a very similar position to them, were James Potter and Regulus Black, making out.

Lily gasped, her eyes wide.

"So..." Regulus flushed, looking up at Lily, "I see you and Mary got together." He started awkwardly.

She rose an amused eyebrow and glanced at Potter, "And I see you finally managed to snog Potter."

Potter's face went bright red and he hid himself in the crook of Regulus' neck.

"I think we should probably give them some space." Mary finally decided, pulling Lily's hand and closing the door behind them.

The four never spoke of the incident, but the boys came out to the group a week later, both of them flicking glances at the girls the whole time.

It was perfect, everything was exactly as it was meant to be. Lily and Reg continued their chats on the astronomy tower, gushing about their partners and complaining as always about anything and everything else in the world.

Lily couldn't help but smile as she held her girlfriend while she slept, the girl who- just a month ago- was so completely unattainable in her eyes.

She was never happier, and she supposed she had Regulus to thank for a lot of it.

~~~♤~~~

#marylily #mary macdonald #lily evans #mary x lily #lily x mary #lily and regulus friendship #jegulus #wolfstar #marylily fic #marylily headcanon #marylily hc #marylily micro-fic #marauders #marauders era

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