#the last thing he wants is to send her away but he has to. or they’ll Know and they’ll kill her

[thedensworld]

Something Between Us | H.Js

Genre: angst, arranged marriage, exes au!

Summary: An old couple meet again, with the same feeling inside their chest. What's something between them still left?

Author note: i dedicate this story for all of my plot twist lover. Here's for you guys. With love and— of course, so much care🤍

Joshua held his cup of coffee, feeling its warmth seep into his hands as he waited for you to arrive. Nervous? Of course, he was. It had been three long years since the two of you had seen each other. In all that time, there had been no reason or opportunity for your paths to cross. But today, after meticulous planning and endless back-and-forth between your secretaries, the two of you were about to meet again—this time as business partners.

Joshua had always been skeptical about arranged marriages. His parents' marriage had crumbled when he was just ten years old, and his father had remarried only two years later. His mother eventually found the love of her life in her fifties, but not before enduring two failed marriages. Joshua himself had experienced a failed arranged marriage—with you, three years ago. So, when his friends claimed they were happy in their arranged marriages, he couldn’t help but doubt them.

He had once said the same thing during the first year of your marriage.

As you walked toward him, Joshua couldn’t help but notice how much your hair had grown since the last time he saw you. You had always preferred muted tones, but today you wore a baby blue work attire that caught him off guard. Rising from his seat, Joshua offered you a professional handshake before motioning for you to sit across from him. Your secretaries took their seats beside you both, their awkward silence adding to the already tense atmosphere in the room.

Today's meeting was supposed to be strictly business. After your father passed away a few months ago, you had surprised Joshua by sending a proposal to rekindle the business relationship that had been severed when the two of you went your separate ways three years ago. He was genuinely shocked. He never imagined that the Ji family would reach out to him first, especially given that your families had also "divorced" in a sense when you did.

"I’ve gone through the proposal you sent. It’s clear there’s still potential between our companies, but a lot has changed in the past three years.”

You nodded, your expression unreadable. “Yes, quite a lot has changed,” you agreed. “The industry has evolved, and so have our respective companies. That’s precisely why I believe it’s important for us to explore a new collaboration.”

Joshua studied you carefully, his mind racing. Your brother Seungcheol was the rightful successor, the one running the family business now. There was no logical reason for you to involve yourself—especially after being away from the business world since your divorce. Why would you suddenly want to rekindle this partnership? Was this truly about the companies, or was there something more you weren’t saying?

“Your brother,” Joshua began cautiously, “is more than capable of handling the business. I’m curious why you felt the need to personally reach out to me, given that Seungcheol is the one at the helm now.”

You met his gaze, your eyes steady. “Seungcheol is indeed in charge, and he’s doing an excellent job. But there are some things only I can handle, and this partnership is one of them. I know the history, the nuances between our companies. There’s unfinished business here, Joshua. You and I both know that.”

Joshua couldn’t deny the truth in your words, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more beneath the surface. “And you think you can just step back in and pick up where we left off?” he asked, skepticism lacing his tone. “You’ve been out of the industry for three years. A lot has changed—not just in business, but in the way we operate, the strategies we use. Do you really think you can bring the same value you once did?”

A faint smile played on your lips. “I may have been away, but I’ve kept my eyes open. I’m well aware of the changes and the new dynamics at play. But this isn’t just about proving my worth, Joshua. It’s about leveraging the strengths of both our companies for mutual benefit. We have something unique—a history, a shared vision, even if it was derailed for a while.”

Joshua leaned back, crossing his arms as he regarded you thoughtfully. “And what exactly are you offering? What do you bring to the table that your brother or anyone else in your company can’t?”

You took a deep breath before answering, your voice firm. “What I bring is a perspective that no one else has. I understand the intricacies of both our businesses, and I know what was lost when we parted ways. I also know how to regain that edge. This isn’t just about merging resources or expanding markets. It’s about restoring what was once a strong alliance—something that could be stronger than ever if we approach it the right way.”

Joshua could sense the conviction in your voice, but he also sensed something else—a personal stake that went beyond business. You weren’t just here to broker a deal; there was something deeper driving you, something you weren’t ready to reveal just yet. But for now, he played along, curious to see where this would lead.

*

Seungkwan, Joshua's dedicated secretary, arrived at ten o'clock at night with a box of Joshua's old files from his parents' house, driven by an urgent matter. The contents were from a pivotal time in Joshua's life—the period when his business had merged with his ex-partner's company.

Joshua had been immersed in the business world since his college days, with a particular passion for coffee beans. His grandfather, recognizing his potential, gifted young Joshua a piece of land to cultivate and manage. After years of gaining valuable experience, Joshua made the bold decision to take over his family’s business—a company specializing in the distribution of fresh food sources. His natural talent for business didn’t go unnoticed; your father, who was well-acquainted with Joshua's grandfather, saw a promising match between you and Joshua.

Your family’s legacy in the industry stretches back further than Joshua’s, with a focus on real estate—hotels, buildings, and shopping malls. In fact, Joshua’s grandfather had once worked for your family before establishing his own empire. Over the years, Joshua's family business became a key supplier of fresh food for your family's hotels, creating a longstanding partnership between the two enterprises.

What began as a mere introduction between you and Joshua quickly evolved into a strategic arrangement orchestrated by your father and Joshua's grandfather. They agreed to a marriage between the two of you, believing it would further solidify the bond between the companies.

Fortunately, neither of you had any objections. Joshua found himself deeply attracted to your integrity and kindness, qualities that only strengthened his affection over time. What started as a business arrangement blossomed into a genuine partnership, both in life and in the boardroom.

"Let's get divorced after a few years," you suggested, your voice carefully measured as you spoke after a family meeting just before the wedding.

Joshua raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Let's not talk about divorce when we haven’t even said ‘I do’ yet."

You sighed, trying to find the right words. "That's not what I meant. I just want us to have the freedom to express our thoughts about this... arrangement. I don't want you to regret anything."

Joshua glanced at you briefly before focusing back on the road as he drove you home. A gentle smile played on his lips. "You're too kind, Y/N. Too kind for me."

After the wedding day, Joshua’s life was turned upside down—in the best way possible. His heart raced every time he saw you, and he found it increasingly difficult to keep his hands to himself whenever you were near. It didn’t take long for him to realize he was falling deeply in love with you.

As Joshua started to believe that you might feel the same way, he nearly forgot about the contract you both had signed before the wedding—a marriage contract stipulating that you would divorce after five years.

"Two years," you said one evening, your tone serious as you brought up the contract.

Joshua shook his head, a determined look in his eyes. "Five, at least. That’s the right amount of time to have everything settled between our companies before we divorce."

Living with you had been effortless for those years, a seamless partnership that made life feel easy and natural. But one night, after returning from a business trip to Taiwan, Joshua was blindsided when you handed him divorce papers to sign. His heart sank as he stared at you in shock, unable to believe you were bringing up the contract he had thought had long been forgotten.

"We've been fighting a lot," you began, your voice steady but laced with sadness. "And it's always about the same things. We see the world differently, and I don’t think I should live with someone who doesn’t share my vision."

Joshua felt something inside him shatter. He had believed you would understand him, that you were different. But now, he realized you were just like everyone else in his life. Just like his parents who had left him behind.

In that moment, the walls he had built to protect himself from pain crumbled, leaving him feeling more vulnerable than ever. He had fallen in love with you, but now he was faced with the harsh reality that love alone might not be enough to keep you by his side.

"Sorry for taking up your time, Seungkwan, but I really need these papers," Joshua said as he began rifling through the box Seungkwan had brought over.

It had been two weeks since the tense meeting between you and Joshua. Since then, any further communication had been handled strictly by your secretaries, Seungkwan and Chan. The deadline for Joshua to make a decision on your offer was only two days away.

Seungkwan sat down, opening his tablet to check his list of tasks. As he glanced at the screen, a thought crossed his mind. "By the way, do you know who Jina is?" he asked Joshua casually.

Joshua frowned, shaking his head. "Jina who?"

Seungkwan shrugged. "I’m not sure. Chan, Ms. Choi's secretary, mentioned that she had to take care of her child, Jina. I was wondering if she might have remarried already?"

Joshua’s hands froze mid-movement as his heart skipped a beat. Child. The word echoed in his mind, bringing with it a flood of questions. Are you married already? Did you finally have the family you always dreamed of? Are you happy now with the child he couldn’t give you?

He forced himself to respond, keeping his voice as neutral as possible. "Really? I didn't know."

Seungkwan nodded, seemingly unfazed. "Maybe it was a secret marriage. After all, it’s only been three years since her divorce from you," he speculated.

Three years. That was all it took for you to move on, to find someone new. To build the life that he had always wanted with you. Meanwhile, Joshua couldn't even fathom replacing you. The mere thought of it felt impossible, as if no one could ever fill the void you left behind.

*

Joshua met with you once to sign the MoU between your two companies. A month passed, and he began to realize that rekindling the business relationship between your families had been a good idea after all.

One afternoon, Joshua was out for lunch with a client. After their meal, he headed to the restroom and was surprised to find a little girl crying in front of the men’s room. Seeing that no one else was around, he gently picked her up and wiped the tears from her chubby cheeks.

“Mom…” the little girl whimpered, her voice breaking Joshua’s heart. Deciding to help, he started looking for her parents.

As he walked down the hallway, he heard familiar voices arguing. Turning the corner, he saw you scolding a younger woman dressed in what looked like a nanny's uniform.

"How could you lose her?" you snapped, clearly distressed.

Before Joshua could speak, you spotted him, your eyes widening as you quickly approached. "Jina, where have you been?" you called out as you reached for the little girl.

Joshua’s breath caught as your eyes met his. For a brief moment, your steps faltered, but then you took the girl from his arms, your expression softening as you spoke to her.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here,” you soothed, cradling the little girl you had called Jina.

“Thank you so much,” you said to Joshua, your voice filled with relief. “She just learned to run, and she slipped away from her nanny.”

You handed Jina back to the nanny you had been scolding moments before, and Joshua couldn’t help but stare at the little girl. She had your beautiful eyes, and Joshua couldn’t deny that she was the cutest toddler he had ever seen.

As he watched you comfort Jina, Joshua felt a pang in his chest, a mix of emotions swirling inside him. Seeing you with a child—a child who looked so much like you—brought back memories of the dreams he once had, dreams of a life you could have had together.

Joshua stood there, watching as you cradled Jina in your arms, and memories of your time together flooded back. During your marriage, you had often expressed your deep desire to start a family. You had dreamed of having children, of creating a warm and loving home where you could nurture and protect them. You had spoken to Joshua about it openly, passionately, yearning for a child who would be a symbol of the love you once shared.

But Joshua had been paralyzed by fear. The idea of becoming a father terrified him, more than he could ever admit to you. He had grown up in a house filled with anger and pain, a witness to his father’s cruelty. His father had been abusive, both physically and emotionally, to Joshua and his mother. Joshua had seen firsthand the damage a father could do to his family, how easily love could turn to hate, how trust could be shattered by betrayal. He had watched his father cheat on his mother, breaking her spirit before finally leaving her for someone else.

These memories haunted Joshua. The thought of becoming a father brought back all those fears—the fear of repeating his father’s mistakes, the fear of not being good enough, the fear of hurting those he loved the most. He didn’t want to bring a child into the world only to fail them, to fail you. And so, every time you spoke of starting a family, Joshua found himself pulling away, unable to share your dream. He was too afraid of the past repeating itself, of becoming the very thing he had always despised.

He remembered the arguments that would arise whenever the topic came up, the frustration in your eyes when he hesitated, the sadness in your voice when he couldn’t give you a clear answer. He had loved you, but his fear had been stronger than his love. He had convinced himself that he was protecting you, protecting any potential child from the possibility of being raised by someone who wasn’t capable of being the father they deserved.

But now, as he looked at Jina—this little girl who had your eyes, your gentleness—he couldn’t help but wonder what might have been. Seeing you as a mother, so natural, so caring, made him realize just how much he had deprived both of you by letting his fears control him. The life you had wanted, the family you had dreamed of—it was something he could never have given you because he had been too afraid to try.

Joshua felt a deep, aching regret settle in his chest. He had let you go, thinking it was for the best, thinking it was the only way to protect you from the darkness inside him. But now, he could see how much he had lost in the process. You had moved on, found the family you always wanted, while he remained trapped by the ghosts of his past.

As you walked away with Jina, Joshua realized that he had not only lost you but also the chance to be part of something truly beautiful. And for the first time, he wondered if he could ever forgive himself for letting fear steal away the life he could have had with you.

*

Joshua was interrupted by a notification that there was a call from Seungcheol, your older brother and the soon-to-be president of Choi Corps. He immediately put down his work and picked up the call, his focus sharpening. Seungcheol’s breathy, urgent voice greeted him on the other end, asking if Joshua was in town at the moment.

"Yes, I'm in my office right now," Joshua replied, his concern mounting.

Joshua and Seungcheol had known each other since college, having attended the same business school. They knew each other better than mere acquaintances, but their relationship was complicated by an underlying competitiveness. Both were driven, ambitious, and determined to succeed—traits that had prevented them from becoming close friends. There could only be one star, and Seungcheol had often seemed to take the throne, aided by his privilege and relentless work ethic.

"I need you to get to Seoul University Hospital. Now!" Seungcheol’s voice was sharp, tinged with urgency.

Joshua’s heart skipped a beat, panic setting in. "What's wrong? Did something happen to Y/n?" he asked immediately, his pulse quickening.

"No, it’s not Y/n," Seungcheol answered, his tone tense. "Someone else needs you."

"Who?" Joshua pressed, confusion and worry battling within him.

"Just get here, Joshua. I’m begging you. My sister... she’s not in the right state of mind right now," Seungcheol pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation.

Joshua’s mind raced, trying to piece together what could have happened. The urgency in Seungcheol’s voice told him it was serious, and despite their complicated history, he knew he couldn’t ignore the call. Without wasting another second, Joshua grabbed his keys and headed out the door, a sense of dread settling in his chest as he rushed to the hospital.

Joshua arrived at Seoul University Hospital, his heart pounding in his chest. The cold, sterile smell of the hospital hit him as he hurried through the halls, searching for the ICU. His mind raced, trying to make sense of Seungcheol's cryptic call. The worry in Seungcheol's voice had been unmistakable, but Joshua still didn’t fully understand what was happening.

When he finally found the ICU, his eyes immediately landed on Seungcheol, who was standing rigidly with a tense expression. Seungcheol’s eyes locked onto Joshua as soon as he approached, and he stood up straighter, signaling Joshua over.

You were sitting on a bench beside Seungcheol, your head buried in your knees, your body trembling slightly. Chan, your secretary, stood beside you, a hand resting on your shoulder, trying to offer some semblance of comfort.

Joshua felt his stomach twist at the sight of you like this—so vulnerable, so unlike the strong, composed person he knew. His gaze flickered between you and Seungcheol, searching for answers in their expressions.

"Seungcheol, what’s going on?" Joshua asked, his voice laced with concern and confusion.

Seungcheol took a deep breath, his face strained as he struggled to keep his composure. "It’s Jina," he began, his voice heavy with emotion. "She collapsed earlier today, and they had to rush her here. The doctors said she needs an immediate white cell transfusion."

Joshua blinked, trying to process the information. "A white cell transfusion? But... why? What happened to her?"

Seungcheol ran a hand through his hair, clearly distressed. "Jina has a rare blood disorder. Her white cell count dropped dangerously low, and she’s in critical condition. The doctors are doing everything they can, but they said she needs a specific type of transfusion—one that’s not easy to come by."

Joshua's mind reeled as he tried to comprehend the gravity of the situation. "But why... why did you call me? What does this have to do with me?"

Seungcheol hesitated, glancing at you before answering. "Jina is your daughter, Joshua," he finally said, the words heavy with the weight of the truth. "That’s why we need you. You’re her father."

*

"Get that bastard here!" your father roared, his voice echoing through the house. You winced, hearing the fury in his tone as your mother quietly explained what had happened to you over the past few months since the divorce.

Seungcheol sat across from you, his eyes fixed on you with a mixture of disappointment and concern, as if you had committed some unforgivable sin. In a way, you had—you had made a decision that not only affected your life but also threatened to tear apart the relationship between two powerful companies.

He sighed heavily, breaking the tense silence. "He didn’t want the child. Is that why you two got divorced?" His voice was quiet but edged with disbelief.

You nodded slowly, unable to meet his gaze. The truth was hard to swallow, even now.

"Then why did you run away?" Seungcheol asked, his voice softening with confusion and concern.

After six months of hiding in Jeju, Seungcheol had finally found you and dragged you back home. The shock on his face was unmistakable when he discovered you were pregnant. At first, he had assumed that someone had taken advantage of you while you were away after the divorce. But when you tearfully confessed that the baby was Joshua’s, his shock turned to something deeper—betrayal, perhaps, or simply the weight of a truth he hadn’t been prepared to hear.

"Is there anything else you're hiding?" Seungcheol asked, his eyes searching yours.

You shook your head, unable to speak. The shame and guilt were too much to bear.

He leaned back, his expression unreadable. "I won’t tell anyone about this," he finally said, his voice firm but kind. "But one day, he needs to know. You can’t let a child grow up without a father, Y/n."

"He doesn’t want them," you whispered, your voice trembling. "Why can’t you understand that?"

Seungcheol bit his lip, clearly struggling with his emotions. He wanted to protect you, but he also knew the importance of a father’s presence in a child’s life.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and your father stormed in, his face contorted with rage. He marched straight to you, his anger palpable. "Has he ever touched you inappropriately? Has he ever been abusive to you?" he demanded, his voice harsh and filled with protective fury.

"No, Father," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "He never did."

Your father’s face darkened further as he turned to Seungcheol. "Cut ties with him, Seungcheol. How dare he divorce you while you were pregnant with his child," he ordered, his voice seething with anger.

Seungcheol nodded slowly, his eyes flickering between you and your father. The decision had been made. The relationship between the two companies would be severed, and Joshua would be held accountable for abandoning you. But in the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of the secret you still carried—the knowledge that despite everything, a part of you still loved Joshua, and you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him entirely.

Joshua’s mother had always been frail, suffering from a rare condition that left her frequently unwell. It was this reason that led Joshua to make the decision to live with his mother after just a few months of marriage. Despite both of you juggling demanding careers, Joshua insisted on taking care of her personally, sending the nurse away each night so he could attend to her himself.

Since Joshua had taken over the highest responsibilities at his company, business trips became a frequent part of his life, often leaving you alone with his mother. In the beginning, it wasn’t so bad. His mother was kind and nurturing, and you appreciated her presence. But as the months went on, things began to change.

Her once gentle suggestions started to feel more like subtle commands. "Don’t you think you should prepare a bath for him?" she mentioned one evening, shortly before Joshua was expected home from the office. You simply smiled in response, too tired to engage after a long day at work. But the comment lingered, an unspoken expectation hanging in the air.

"Y/n, you should stay at home," she said another time, her tone laced with concern. "You’ll be too exhausted to properly take care of your husband if you keep working."

Her words, once easy to brush off, began to grate on your nerves, especially on days when work had already worn you thin. Yet, you remained composed, understanding that she was his mother and that her meddling came from a place of care—even if it didn’t always feel that way.

There were nights when you would approach Joshua, hoping to discuss the possibility of the two of you living separately, away from the constant strain of these expectations. "Can’t we find a place of our own?" you’d ask gently. "It’s just… it’s getting hard, Joshua."

But Joshua would always respond with the same quiet firmness, his love for his mother evident in every word. "She’s too ill, love. I don’t think I can leave her to live alone."

And so, you tried to understand. You tried to be patient, even as the weight of the situation began to press down on your marriage.

One evening, as you were tidying up the living room, Joshua’s mother approached you with a soft but probing tone. "Have you checked yourself at the hospital, darling?" she asked, her eyes studying your reaction. "It’s been a few years now, and you still haven’t gotten pregnant. Is everything all right?"

Her question, though couched in concern, felt like a punch to the gut. You paused, the magazine you were holding slipping from your fingers as her words echoed in your mind. You had been bracing yourself for this conversation, knowing it was only a matter of time before she brought it up.

You took a deep breath and forced a smile, trying to keep your emotions in check. "The doctors say everything is fine, Mother," you replied, keeping your voice as steady as possible. "It just hasn’t happened yet."

Joshua’s mother frowned slightly, her concern deepening. "But it’s been so long, Y/n. You should consider seeing a specialist, maybe even explore other options."

The suggestion stung, though you knew she meant well. It wasn’t just the pressure to conceive—it was the weight of expectation that you carried every day. You had wanted a child just as much as she did, if not more. But Joshua… Joshua had been hesitant from the start.

You remembered the conversations you had had with him, the nights you had spent lying awake, thinking about the future, imagining the family you could build together. But Joshua always seemed reluctant, his fear of fatherhood holding him back. He had grown up in a broken home, witnessed his father’s abuse, and the scars those memories left on him ran deep. He had confessed to you once, in a rare moment of vulnerability, that he was terrified of becoming like his father, of hurting you or any future children the way his father had hurt him and his mother.

"We’ll have a child when the time is right," Joshua would say, his voice heavy with the weight of his own fears. "But not now. I’m not ready, Y/n."

And so, you had waited, pushing down your own longing, hoping that one day, he would feel ready. But as the years passed, the strain began to show—not just on you, but on your marriage as well. Now, with his mother’s pointed question hanging in the air, the unspoken tension between you and Joshua felt more palpable than ever.

"I understand," you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. "But it’s not just about seeing a specialist. There are other things… other reasons why it hasn’t happened yet."

Joshua’s mother looked at you with a mixture of pity and concern, clearly wanting to say more but holding back. "I just want what’s best for you, dear," she said softly. "For both of you."

You nodded, appreciating her concern even though it added to the weight you were already carrying. "I know. And we want that too."

But as you turned away, the words she didn’t say lingered in your mind, amplifying the doubts that had already taken root. You wanted to believe that everything would work out, that Joshua would eventually overcome his fears. But as time went on, it became harder to ignore the growing distance between the life you had imagined and the reality you were living.

"You know, she’s a lovely girl," one of Joshua's mother friends said when they came for visiting, her voice laced with that particular tone people use when they’re about to say something less than flattering. "But it’s strange, isn’t it? They’ve been married for years now, and still no children."

Another woman chimed in, "Yes, I’ve noticed. It’s unusual, especially for a young couple like them. Have they mentioned anything to you about it?"

There was a pause, and then you heard Joshua’s mother sigh. "No, she hasn’t said much. But I’m beginning to worry… What if she’s infertile?"

The words hit you like a slap. You froze, your breath catching in your throat as the conversation continued.

"Oh, that would be such a shame," one of the women responded sympathetically. "Your son deserves to have children, to continue the family line."

"I know," Joshua’s mother replied, her voice heavy with a mix of concern and resignation. "I feel so bad for him. He’s always wanted a family, and I’m sure this must be hard on him. But… what can we do?"

They moved on to other topics, but you couldn’t focus on anything else. The words echoed in your mind, over and over, each repetition cutting deeper than the last.

Infertile.

A shame.

I feel so bad for him.

You knew Joshua’s mother meant well, in her own way. But hearing her talk about you like that, like you were some kind of defective person, made you feel like you didn’t belong in this family—like you were failing Joshua, failing yourself. The weight of it all was too much to bear.

The tension between you and Joshua had been building for months, and after overhearing his mother’s conversation, it finally reached a breaking point. The desire for a child had always been there, but now, it felt like a constant, pressing need—one that you couldn’t ignore any longer.

“Joshua,” you began carefully as the two of you sat down for dinner, “we need to talk.”

He looked up from his plate, his expression wary. He knew what was coming. You had had this conversation before, and it never ended well.

“Can’t we just eat in peace?” he asked, his voice tired.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Your mother… she’s been putting a lot of pressure on me about having a child. She’s been saying things that… that hurt.”

Joshua frowned, confusion clouding his expression. “What do you mean?”

“She’s been asking me why I haven’t gotten pregnant yet. She even suggested I should see a doctor, as if there’s something wrong with me,” you confessed, your voice breaking slightly. “And I overheard her telling her friends that she thinks I might be infertile. She felt bad for you, saying that you deserve a child, and she doubted if I could give you one.”

Joshua’s face darkened, his eyes narrowing. “She said that?”

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. “Yes. And it hurt, Joshua. It made me feel like I’m failing you, like I’m not good enough. I’ve tried to be understanding, I’ve tried to be patient, but… it’s tearing me apart.”

Instead of the sympathy you had hoped for, Joshua’s expression hardened. “My mother is ill, Y/n. She’s under a lot of stress, and she’s worried about us. That’s why she says those things. It’s not fair to hold that against her.”

“I’m not trying to hold it against her,” you said, your frustration rising. “But it’s affecting us, Joshua. It’s not just about what she said—it’s about how it’s making me feel. I’ve been trying to handle it on my own, but I can’t anymore. I need you to understand how much this is hurting me.”

Joshua shook his head, his voice growing colder. “So what? You want me to blame my mother? You think she’s the villain here? She’s just looking out for me, for us.”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” you replied, feeling your own anger flare up. “But you can’t just dismiss how I feel. She’s making me feel like I’m not enough, like I’m failing as your wife, and you’re not doing anything to stop it.”

Joshua stood up from the table, pushing his chair back with more force than necessary. “She’s sick, Y/n! She’s the only family I have left, and you want me to start a fight with her because she’s worried about us having kids? You’re blowing this out of proportion.”

You stood up as well, the pain in your chest twisting into something sharper. “I’m not blowing it out of proportion! I’m telling you that your mother is hurting me, and instead of listening to me, you’re defending her!”

Joshua’s face was flushed with anger now, his hands balled into fists. “You don’t understand what it’s like, Y/n. You don’t know what she’s been through, what I’ve been through. She’s trying to protect me, and you’re turning her into some kind of monster!”

“I’m not!” you shouted, tears spilling down your cheeks. “But I can’t just keep pretending that everything’s fine when it’s not! I’m drowning here, Joshua, and you’re more concerned about protecting your mother’s feelings than mine!”

Joshua’s voice dropped, cold and sharp. “You’re the one who’s making this a fight, not me. Maybe you’re just looking for someone to blame because you’re not getting what you want.”

His words hit you like a slap in the face, and you recoiled, shocked by the bitterness in his tone. “Is that really what you think?” you whispered, your voice shaking.

Joshua’s gaze softened slightly, as if he realized he’d gone too far, but the tension in the air was too thick to dispel. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, but he didn’t apologize. He didn’t take it back.

Instead, he turned away, his back to you. “I can’t do this right now, Y/n. I just… I need some space.”

The room felt colder as he walked away, leaving you standing there alone, your heart aching with the weight of everything unsaid. You had come to him, hoping for understanding, for support, but instead, you felt more isolated than ever. The chasm between you and Joshua seemed to grow wider with every passing moment, and you were left wondering how, or if, you could ever bridge it again.

*

After the divorce was finalized, you wasted no time in disappearing to Jeju. It was a quiet, impulsive decision—one made in the heat of heartache and confusion. You didn’t tell anyone, not even your family, because you couldn’t bear the thought of facing their pity or questions. You needed to escape, to be alone with your thoughts, away from the memories and the pain.

The divorce had happened faster than you expected, almost too smoothly. There had been no drawn-out arguments, no legal battles. It was as if Joshua had been waiting for this, and that realization stung more than anything. You had thought there would be some resistance, some sign that he was still holding on to what you had built together. But there wasn’t. He signed the papers without hesitation, and with that, the final chapter of your marriage was closed.

The speed of it all made you wonder if Joshua had already given up on you long before the papers were drawn. Maybe he had been tired of you, tired of the constant tension and arguments, tired of your desire for a child that he couldn’t bring himself to accept. It was easier for him to let go than to fight, and that thought was devastating.

In Jeju, you found solace in the quiet. The island, with its endless ocean views and soft winds, offered the peace that you so desperately needed. You stayed in a small cottage near the shore, far removed from the life you once knew. The waves crashing against the rocks became your lullaby at night, and the sunrises over the water offered a sliver of hope each morning.

But no matter how hard you tried to run away from the past, it followed you. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw Joshua’s face. You heard his voice, the way he had told you he needed space, the way he had defended his mother over you.

You woke up to the harsh, sterile smell of alcohol and the blinding white light that filled the room. Your head throbbed as you slowly opened your eyes, and for a moment, you struggled to make sense of your surroundings. The last thing you remembered was sitting on the shore, watching the waves roll in. The peaceful rhythm of the sea had always calmed you, but now, everything felt off—foreign, wrong.

Panic surged through you as you tried to sit up, only to realize you were lying on a hospital bed. The walls were white, the sound of medical machines humming in the background. You weren’t on the beach anymore. This wasn’t your cottage.

A soft voice pulled you out of your daze. “Mam, can you hear me?”

You turned to see a man in a white coat standing beside you. His expression was calm but concerned. “I’m Dr. Kim. You’re in a clinic now. Can you tell me your name?”

You blinked, your mind still foggy. “Y/n,” you whispered, your voice dry and weak.

Dr. Kim nodded, offering a small smile. “Good. Do you remember what happened?”

You tried to think back, but your memories were jumbled. The sea, the breeze, the quiet… and then nothing. You shook your head slowly. “I was on the beach. That’s all I remember.”

He sighed softly, glancing at the chart in his hand. “You were found by a fisherman early this morning. You passed out, and he brought you here. We’ve run some tests to make sure you’re okay.”

You swallowed, a sinking feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. “Tests?”

“Yes,” Dr. Kim said gently, “and I want to assure you, you’re going to be fine. But there’s something else you need to know.” He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “You’re eight weeks pregnant.”

Your heart stopped. Pregnant? The word echoed in your mind, but it didn’t feel real. “No,” you muttered, shaking your head. “That can’t be right.”

Dr. Kim’s expression softened with understanding. “I know this might be unexpected news, but the tests confirmed it. You’re two months along.”

Two months. Eight weeks. The timeline fit perfectly with everything that had happened just before you left Joshua, before the divorce, before everything crumbled. You placed a trembling hand on your stomach, still flat but now holding a secret that was no longer just yours.

Suddenly, everything rushed back—the arguments, Joshua’s rejection, and his fear of fatherhood, And now, here you were, in a clinic, alone and pregnant.

Tears stung your eyes as the weight of it all came crashing down. You had hoped to avoid this moment, to escape it, but there was no running away from the truth now. You were going to have a child—Joshua’s child—and no matter how much you had tried to distance yourself from him, he would always be a part of this.

Dr. Kim’s voice broke through your thoughts. “Is there anyone you’d like us to contact? A family member, perhaps?”

You shook your head quickly, the tears now freely falling down your cheeks. “No. No one.”

He nodded, his expression kind but professional. “Take your time. We’ll make sure you’re stable and that everything with the pregnancy is progressing well. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

As he left the room, you were left alone with your thoughts and the knowledge that your life had just changed forever. The child you hadn’t dared to hope for was real, growing inside you, and now you had to decide what to do next.

But even as the fear gripped your heart, a small flicker of hope began to grow. For the first time in months, you weren’t running away. You were facing the future—one step at a time.

*

"Can we talk?"

You froze in place as Joshua's voice reached you. Turning slowly, you saw him standing there, dressed in a hospital gown, clearly preparing for his medical checkup before the donor. His eyes were tired, filled with confusion and something else you couldn’t quite place.

"I'm sorry," you muttered, your voice strained, "I have no energy for this right now."

"At least give me some enlightenment," Joshua said, his tone surprisingly calm despite the tension between you. "I came here two hours ago not knowing I had a daughter. And I've been patient enough to wait to ask this."

You felt the weight of his words pressing down on you. He had a right to know, and yet, telling him had always seemed impossible. You took a step toward him, meeting his gaze as you spoke quietly, “Yes, she's your daughter. I found out I was pregnant a week after our divorce.

A heavy silence hung between you as Joshua absorbed the news. His face remained unreadable, but you could see the storm of emotions brewing beneath the surface.

"You need a proof?" you asked, almost defensively, your heart racing.

Joshua shook his head slowly. "No... I don’t need proof."

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, but before you could speak again, he continued.

"I wish she was mine," Joshua whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "From the first time I saw her, I wished she was mine."

His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you couldn't respond. You had prepared for anger, for denial, for resentment, but not this. Not the raw longing in his voice, the quiet regret that had been buried deep inside him.

“I—” you started, but your voice faltered. You weren’t sure what to say.

Joshua took a deep breath, his hand running through his hair as he tried to keep his emotions in check. “Why didn’t you tell me, Y/n? Why did you run away without saying anything? I would’ve—”

“You would’ve what?” you cut him off, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “You would’ve told me how scared you were? How much you didn’t want this? You were terrified of becoming a father, Joshua. I couldn’t bear the thought of you rejecting me, rejecting her.”

He flinched at your words, his jaw tightening. “You should’ve given me a choice.”

“A choice?” You almost laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You couldn’t even handle the idea of having a child. You wanted time. And what was I supposed to do? Sit around and wait for you to be ready while I carried your child?”

Joshua’s eyes were filled with a mix of guilt and pain, but he remained silent, letting you speak.

“I did what I thought was best,” you continued, your voice trembling. “I couldn’t wait for you to come to terms with something that was already happening. I was terrified too, Joshua. But I didn’t have the luxury of walking away from it.”

Joshua looked down at the floor, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "I get that I was scared. I admit it. But I never would’ve abandoned you... or her." His voice cracked slightly as he spoke.

The vulnerability in his words caused your anger to soften, but the hurt remained. “Then why didn’t you fight for us?” you asked quietly. “Why did the divorce happen so easily?”

Joshua's eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw the truth—he had been just as lost as you were. “I thought you wanted out,” he said simply. “You brought up the divorce, and I thought you were done with me. I thought... I wasn’t enough.”

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes. “I didn’t want out. I wanted you to see me, to see us. But you were too focused on your fears.”

The silence that followed was heavy, both of you caught in the weight of everything left unsaid for years.

Joshua watched you closely, piecing together the puzzle in his mind. The business offer that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, the meetings, the subtle ways you kept a professional distance—it all started to make sense. His eyes narrowed slightly, and he couldn’t help but voice the suspicion gnawing at him.

"This whole sudden approach in business," he began slowly, his voice calm but laced with a quiet intensity, "was it just an excuse? Were you trying to find a way to retaliate our relationship in case Jina needed me?"

Your breath hitched, caught off guard by how quickly he’d reached the conclusion you feared he might.

“Joshua—”

“Just tell me the truth, Y/n,” he said, cutting you off gently but firmly. “Was the business deal just a cover? Were you keeping me close because you thought... she might need me?”

You hesitated, unable to meet his gaze, and that was answer enough for Joshua.

He let out a breath, running a hand through his hair, his expression a mixture of frustration and understanding. “I thought something felt off. The way you kept me at arm’s length, the professional tone... I kept thinking this wasn’t like you. But I didn’t want to push, didn’t want to make it harder.”

Silence fell between you, the tension thick as you struggled to find the right words. Finally, you sighed, your voice low. “I didn’t plan for this. I didn’t expect to reach out to you, not after everything. But when Jina got sick... I panicked. I realized she might need more than just me.”

Joshua’s jaw tightened as he processed your words. “So you were going to keep me out of her life unless she needed something from me?”

“No,” you said, shaking your head quickly. “It wasn’t like that. I wasn’t trying to use you, Joshua. I just... I didn’t know how to let you back in after everything that happened.”

Joshua stared at you, his expression softening as he saw the genuine conflict in your eyes. “You should’ve told me, Y/n. I had a right to know about her, about everything. You can’t just make those decisions on your own.”

“I know,” you whispered, guilt washing over you.

Finally, Joshua took a shaky breath. “I’m here now, Y/n. I don’t know how to make up for the past, but I’m not running away anymore. I want to be in her life. I want to be a father.”

His words hit you like a wave, and though part of you wanted to believe him, another part still held onto the hurt, the disappointment. "She's not something you can just decide to be a part of when it suits you, Joshua."

"I know that," he said softly, his eyes pleading with you. "I’m asking you to let me try."

You looked at him, the man who once couldn’t fathom being a father now standing before you, begging for a chance. It wasn’t forgiveness he sought, but a way forward.

And you didn’t know if you were ready to give it to him. But for your daughter’s sake—for Jina—you had to at least consider it.

"I need time too," you whispered, finally breaking the silence.

Joshua nodded, understanding in his eyes. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.”

*

The next day, the results came back—the match was confirmed, and Joshua was prepped for the procedure. The white blood cell donor was done swiftly, and you waited anxiously for updates on both Joshua and Jina.

When you heard Joshua had regained consciousness, you made your way to his room. As you entered, he looked pale but alert, his eyes immediately searching for you.

“How’s her condition?” he asked, his voice still weak, but full of concern.

A smile broke across your face, relief flooding your system. “Her surgery just finished. The doctor said her condition is stable.”

Joshua let out a deep breath of gratitude, sinking back into his pillow. You stood there for a moment, watching him—this man who had once been terrified of fatherhood, now willing to give everything for his daughter.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice full of emotion. “Thanks for doing this.”

Joshua nodded, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “I’m her father. I’ll do everything for her.”

There was a weight to his words, an unspoken promise hanging in the air. You felt a knot loosen in your chest, the tension between you easing, if only slightly.

You sat down next to Joshua’s bed, the weight of everything finally sinking in. It had been a whirlwind, from the moment Jina fell sick to this very moment, sitting here with Joshua after the transfusion. Despite everything that had happened between you two, you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of peace.

"How did you know?" Joshua asked, breaking the silence, his voice tentative.

You glanced up at him, unsure of how to answer. "That she was sick? Or that i have her?"

"Both," he replied, his eyes searching yours for answers.

You sighed, shifting in your seat. "I found out I was pregnant a week after the divorce. At first, I didn’t know what to do. I was scared, hurt, confused... and I didn’t want to reach out to you because I thought you'd reject her, reject us."

Joshua winced, his hand running through his hair. "I didn’t mean to push you away. I just didn’t know how to handle... everything."

"I know," you said softly. "And I ran too. I thought leaving was the best way to protect her. But when Jina got sick, I realized I couldn’t keep you away anymore. She needed you."

There was a pause, and then Joshua's expression turned serious. "You mentioned that Jina’s illness is the same as my mother’s. How did that come to light?"

You took a deep breath, nodding. "Yes, Jina’s condition is indeed the same rare illness your mother had. The doctors confirmed it. It’s hereditary, passed down through genetics, and that’s why the transfusion was so crucial. They said it was a match because of this genetic link."

Joshua's eyes widened with a mix of shock and realization. "I thought... I thought that illness was gone. I didn’t realize it could be passed on."

You reached out, gently touching his hand. "None of us knew until now."

Joshua's face fell as he absorbed the new revelation. "So, she has the same battle to fight as my mother did?"

You nodded sadly. "Yes. But she has a chance now, thanks to you. And that’s what matters."

Joshua’s gaze softened, a mixture of sorrow and resolve in his eyes. "I’ll do everything I can to help her through this. She deserves that chance."

You smiled faintly, feeling a sense of shared purpose. "Thank you, Joshua. That means more than you know."

For now, despite the challenges ahead, there was a shared commitment to face them together, for Jina's sake.

You gently introduced Jina to Joshua for the first time. Holding her small hand in yours, you led her into Joshua’s hospital room. She looked around, her eyes wide and curious, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. Joshua, still in his hospital gown, sat up in bed, his expression a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

"Jina," you said softly, guiding her forward, "this is your father, Joshua."

Joshua’s eyes were warm as he looked at Jina. "Hi, Jina. It’s nice to finally meet you."

Jina was shy at first, hiding behind your legs and peeking out with wide, hesitant eyes. But as Joshua spoke gently to her, a flicker of recognition seemed to spark in her. She slowly moved closer, drawn by the undeniable bond of blood and the kindness in Joshua’s voice.

Over the next few days, Jina spent a lot of time in the hospital room with Joshua. The transition wasn’t easy at first, but Joshua made an effort to bond with her. He played games, read her stories, and held her hand during her treatments. The connection between them grew stronger with each passing day, and Joshua embraced his role as a father more than you could have hoped for.

As Jina’s condition improved and it was time for her to leave the hospital, she expressed a strong desire to stay with Joshua. She had grown attached to him, and the idea of living with her 'new' father excited her.

Joshua, seeing the bond they had formed and understanding the importance of this new family dynamic, made a heartfelt offer. "Why don’t you and Jina move in with me? It would be better for all of us, and I’d love to be there for both of you."

The offer took you by surprise. You had been adjusting to this new phase in your lives, but the thought of moving in with Joshua again was daunting. There were old wounds to heal and uncertainties to address.

You debated the decision with Joshua, weighing the benefits and challenges. Jina, however, was overjoyed at the prospect of living with her father full-time. Her excitement and the genuine bond she had formed with Joshua made it difficult for you to turn down his offer.

After much consideration, you agreed to move to Joshua’s place. It wasn’t just about convenience; it was about providing Jina with the stability and love she needed. You saw how deeply Joshua cared for her and how committed he was to being a father.

The move was bittersweet. There were remnants of old tensions, but there was also a hopeful sense of new beginnings. As you settled into the new routine, you focused on rebuilding your family and creating a supportive environment for Jina.

Joshua was more present and involved than ever, and the family dynamic slowly began to heal. With each passing day, the past seemed a little less burdensome, and the future, though uncertain, seemed filled with possibilities for all of you.

*

Joshua loosened his tie as he stepped into the house, feeling the familiar weight of exhaustion from the long day. The house was quiet, the kind of peaceful stillness that had become his sanctuary in recent weeks. Usually, by the time he got home, you were already in bed, the soft murmur of the television or the gentle rise and fall of your breathing the only sounds he’d hear. But tonight was different.

As he walked into the kitchen, he heard you come through the door just moments after him, the click of your heels and the tired sigh that followed. He turned, spotting you leaning against the wall, your shoes already off, looking like the day had been longer than usual.

"Just back home?" he asked, casually unbuttoning his shirt collar. The question felt natural, like a routine that had formed between the two of you without either of you realizing it.

"Yeah," you sighed, rubbing the back of your neck. "A very long day. Minha told me Jina fell asleep after playing with the trampoline you just bought her."

Joshua couldn’t help but smile at the mention of Jina. "I’m glad she likes it," he said, feeling that familiar warmth that had come with being a father. Every day with her was new, different, and he found himself looking forward to each moment, no matter how small.

As he grabbed a glass of water, he glanced over at you. Things between the two of you had become... easier. That surprised him more than anything. After everything that had happened—the divorce, the years of separation—he had never expected this sense of peace between you. It was strange, but it was also something he hadn’t realized he’d needed.

It wasn’t just about Jina, though she was the center of it all. It was the way you both slipped into this new life so seamlessly. The tension that once filled the air between you had dissolved into something almost unrecognizable. He wasn’t sure how or when it happened, but somehow, living together again didn’t feel forced or uncomfortable. It felt... right.

"I never thought it would be like this," Joshua found himself saying, almost without thinking. He turned to you, watching as your gaze met his, a look of curiosity in your eyes. "That we’d be here, living together again. Raising her."

You nodded, like you understood exactly what he meant. "Me neither," you replied quietly.

He exhaled slowly, realizing just how much had changed in such a short time. Every part of his life had once been filled with uncertainty, with fear, especially when it came to fatherhood. But now? Now he was coming home to something that felt solid, like the pieces of his life were finally falling into place.

"It feels..." Joshua hesitated, searching for the right words to explain the rush of emotions inside him. "It feels good. Better than I thought it would."

He wasn’t just talking about Jina. Of course, his daughter was a huge part of why he felt this way—being her father, playing with her, watching her grow—it was everything he hadn’t known he wanted. But there was more to it than that. There was something between him and you, a kind of unspoken connection that had started to rebuild itself, brick by brick, without either of you acknowledging it.

The conversation flowed easily from there, a mix of random topics—work, the trampoline, Jina's antics. It was a nice change of pace, a chance to just talk without the weight of the past pressing down on you.

Eventually, the topic shifted to Jina, as it always did. Joshua smiled, thinking about their nightly routine. "She loves her bedtime stories," he said, almost fondly. "It's the best part of the day."

You nodded in agreement, your expression softening. "Yeah, she does. But she asked me something the other night that caught me off guard."

Joshua raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"She asked me why we weren't like Sasha's parents." You said it casually, but there was a hint of something deeper in your voice. "You know, from her favorite book. The one about Sasha’s morning routine before school. Waking up, taking a bath, having breakfast."

Joshua thought about it for a second, then nodded. He remembered Jina's animated voice as she read along, her little hands gesturing wildly as she described Sasha's day. "Her parents kiss every morning, right?"

You sighed, a soft smile playing on your lips. "Yeah. And she asked, 'Why don't you and Daddy do that?'"

Joshua could almost hear Jina's voice in his head, the innocent curiosity behind her words. He could picture her big eyes looking up at you, her tiny hands mimicking Sasha's parents.

He glanced over at you, a mischievous glint in his eye. "So... do you want to kiss every morning?"

You rolled your eyes, but there was a slight laugh behind it. "That's not what I was getting at."

Joshua laughed too, the sound filling the room. "Then why bring it up?"

You took a sip of your beer and shrugged. "I don’t know, I guess I just wanted to share what she said. But we don’t have to force ourselves to do things just for her sake. She’ll understand eventually."

Joshua’s smile faded, and he turned serious for a moment. "But she’s still so young. I don’t want her to have to understand everything that’s happened between us. It’s not her burden to carry. That’s on us."

You glanced at him, sensing the weight behind his words. "Is that coming from experience?" you teased lightly.

He let out a soft chuckle, nodding. "Yeah. And trust me, she’ll thank us later if we handle it right."

You sighed, leaning back. "Alright, alright. I get it."

Joshua raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a playful smirk. "So... does that mean you want to kiss every morning?"

You looked at him, a mix of exasperation and amusement. "Joshua."

*

Joshua stepped into the dining room, his usual morning grogginess slowly lifting as the familiar scene came into view. You were already sitting with Jina, who was happily in her baby seat, excitedly munching on her breakfast. Her face lit up as soon as she saw him.

"Morning..." Joshua said softly, his voice warm as he walked over to Jina. He leaned down, ruffling her hair with a fond smile. "Hi, baby... Do you like your food?"

Jina giggled, showing him her messy hands, oatmeal smudged across her cheeks. Joshua chuckled, his heart swelling at the sight. Mornings like these—simple and domestic—were beginning to feel more natural, more like something he hadn’t realized he craved.

You stood up, walking over to the counter, grabbing his coffee and setting it down in front of him with a casual "Morning."

He was about to respond when your lips brushed his, a fleeting touch that froze him in place. It wasn’t long or deliberate, but the surprise of it sent a jolt through him. His mind went blank, his body stiffening in shock.

Before he could even process it, Jina's excited voice cut through the air. "Eomma, appa, kiss!" she squealed, clapping her hands in delight. In her excitement, she managed to fling bits of food everywhere.

You laughed softly, wiping her face and the surrounding area with a cloth, completely unfazed by her mess. "Alright, alright, let's clean you up."

Joshua, still dazed, blinked a few times, trying to shake off the feeling. Did you just kiss him? Did he imagine that? It felt real—too real to just be in his head. He looked down at the coffee you placed in front of him, but he couldn’t focus.

"Do you like your coffee?" Your voice was light, casual, as if nothing unusual had just happened.

He blinked, snapping back to reality. "Uh, yeah. It’s... it’s great." He picked up the cup, taking a sip, the warmth grounding him as he stole a glance at you. You were back to wiping Jina's hands, acting like the kiss hadn’t just happened.

Joshua couldn’t help but replay the moment in his mind, over and over. It was so brief, but it lingered—just like the unspoken questions between you both. Was it for Jina’s sake? Was it just part of the routine now?

Each morning, it became a routine—Joshua would come down to the dining room, greeted by Jina's excited babbling and your calm, steady presence. And each morning, without fail, you would kiss him. It wasn’t long or deep, just a brief brush of your lips against his, but it was enough to make his heart skip. He never expected it, and yet, when it happened, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

At first, Joshua didn’t know what to make of it. Was it just for Jina? A way to give her the illusion of a normal, loving family? He didn’t ask, though. He couldn’t. The kiss, no matter how small, made him feel something—something he hadn’t felt in years. And if it made you feel anything close to what he did, he didn’t want to ruin it by questioning.

The routine didn’t stop at breakfast. One day, after the morning chaos settled and Jina was off to school, you casually suggested, “What if we take Jina out every weekend? A day just for her.”

Joshua nodded, happy to spend time with both of you. But as the weekends rolled by, your casual suggestion evolved into full-on plans. The park one weekend, then a picnic, followed by the aquarium. Soon you were planning beach trips, and even talks of weekend getaways or out-of-country vacations floated between you two. Joshua didn’t quite understand why you were so insistent on it—why it had to be every weekend, and why everything was planned so meticulously. But he didn’t complain. Instead, he followed along, content with how things were.

The spontaneity didn’t end there. You started coming home early from work, which caught Joshua off guard. He’d walk in from work, loosening his tie, only to find you in the kitchen, dinner already half-prepared, Jina babbling away at the dining table.

At first, Joshua didn’t know how to feel. It was strange seeing you so present. But after a while, he adjusted. He even started leaving work earlier, making sure he was home before dinner so he could sit with you and Jina. That hour before dinner became something he looked forward to—an hour of calm, where the three of you could just be together.

And then there was Jina’s bedtime. What had once been an alternating task—one night you would read her a story, the next it would be Joshua—turned into a shared routine. You both started reading together, one of you voicing the characters while the other filled in the details, Jina giggling between your voices. The joy in her eyes was infectious, and Joshua often caught himself getting lost in the moment.

He hadn’t realized it until recently, but this was the life he’d always dreamed of. He had a daughter, a family, a sense of stability that he never thought he’d have. And you—well, you were more than just a co-parent. Slowly, without either of you acknowledging it, you were slipping back into something more.

Joshua didn’t know where this was going or what you were thinking, but he was happier than he’d been in years. It still felt fragile, like everything could fall apart with one wrong move. But for now, he was content to let things unfold, to enjoy the routine, the warmth of your kiss each morning, the laughter over dinner, and the shared bedtime stories.

It was more than he ever thought he deserved, and he was too scared to ask for anything more.

Joshua came home, but something felt off immediately. The house was unusually quiet. There was no sign of Jina’s usual laughter or your familiar voice filling the space. His brows furrowed as he stepped deeper into the house, scanning the rooms until he finally reached the family room.

There you were, sitting on the couch with Jina nestled in your arms, and across from you sat his mother, her posture stiff, eyes sharp. The tension in the room was palpable.

"Joshua," his mother said, her voice icy. "Care to explain why your ex-wife is here?"

Joshua’s stomach dropped. He hadn’t prepared for this—hadn’t even told his mother about the new situation with you and Jina. His mother had no idea that Jina was her granddaughter. He hadn’t planned for her to find out like this, and now, with everything out in the open, his carefully constructed plan was unraveling.

Taking a deep breath, Joshua walked over and stood between you and his mother. He glanced at you, and the look in your eyes told him you were just as surprised and unsure of what to say.

"This is Jina," Joshua finally said, his voice steady but filled with the weight of the truth. "She’s my daughter."

His mother’s gasp echoed in the room. "Your daughter? What do you mean? What’s going on here?" she demanded, her voice rising with disbelief.

Joshua sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It’s a long story, Mom. A lot has happened, and I wasn’t ready to tell you yet. But I’ll come by tomorrow and explain everything. For now, I need you to trust me."

His mother looked between him and you, her confusion and frustration evident. Joshua gently took her arm, helping her to stand. "Please," he added softly, "just give me time to explain. We’ll talk tomorrow."

Reluctantly, she nodded, still looking at Jina as if trying to comprehend the new reality. Without another word, Joshua led his mother to the door, closing it softly behind her as she left.

The quiet returned, and when he walked back into the house, he found you already in the kitchen, washing dishes in silence. Jina sat on the floor, engrossed in her favorite TV series, oblivious to the tension that had just filled the house.

Joshua watched you for a moment, the silence between you louder than anything. You moved mechanically, your back to him, the distance between you more than just physical. He knew something was wrong—knew it by the way you didn’t meet his eyes when he walked in, by the way you had prepared his dinner without a word.

"Hey," he said softly, stepping into the kitchen, but you didn’t respond.

After a moment, you finally spoke, your voice low, emotion barely restrained. "I’m going to read Jina to sleep. You should eat your dinner."

Joshua nodded, watching as you wiped your hands on a towel and turned toward Jina. But the weight of the situation hung heavy on him, and he couldn’t let you walk away without saying something.

"Look," he began, his voice hesitant. "I know tonight was... unexpected. I wasn’t ready for her to find out like this. I’m sorry."

"That's fine."

With that, you walked over to Jina, scooping her up and heading toward her bedroom to read her a bedtime story. Joshua stood there, staring at the dinner you had prepared for him, but the food was the last thing on his mind. He knew things had to change, and quickly.

Joshua knocked on your door, knowing you were inside since Jina was already fast asleep in her own room. His heart pounded a little harder than usual, but he had to do this. He needed to clear the air.

"Can we talk?" he asked softly when you opened the door.

You stepped aside, silently giving him permission to enter, and Joshua walked in. The room was small but cozy, though it struck him how different it was from the shared life you once had. His eyes scanned the desk piled with papers, a computer still open—clearly, you had been working late. He realized how much you were juggling, and it only made him more determined to make things right.

"I'll explain everything to my mom tomorrow," he began, his voice steady, though there was a vulnerability in the way he stood. "And I’ll tell her that we’re back together."

You didn’t respond right away, just slowly nodding. But Joshua noticed the way your eyes flickered, the subtle tension in your posture. He couldn’t tell if you were on board with his plan or simply accepting it because it was easier than arguing. That uncertainty gnawed at him.

He knew that his mother had hurt you deeply in the past, her interference during your marriage a wound that hadn’t fully healed. And now, here he was, bringing his mother back into the equation. But this time, the situation was different. His mother had remarried and didn’t need to live with him anymore. There wouldn’t be anyone else in your home to create the chaos that had driven a wedge between you before.

"You won’t have to deal with her like before," Joshua added, his tone softening as he stepped closer. "She won’t be living with us, and I’ll make sure she knows her boundaries. I don’t want her—or anyone else—to hurt you again."

You looked up at him, and for a moment, your eyes locked. He could see the hesitation there, the doubt that lingered from old wounds. But there was something else too, something hopeful. Joshua wasn’t sure if it was enough to convince you, but he had to believe it could be.

"I just need you to trust me," he said quietly, his voice almost pleading now. "I know I’ve messed up before. But I’m trying, and I want to make things right—for you, for Jina, for all of us."

*

Joshua was relieved that the routine didn’t fall apart after that tense night with his mother. Despite the confrontation and the heavy conversation that followed, nothing drastically changed in the way you, Jina, and he interacted. In fact, the next morning, everything seemed normal. Jina was her usual excited self, giggling and bouncing around the house. You were busy as usual, managing the house and work effortlessly.

He had explained everything to his mother, sitting her down and finally telling the truth—about Jina, about you, and about the part she played in your separation. It had been difficult to admit, but he couldn’t hide from it anymore. His mother was one of the main reasons why your marriage had fallen apart, and for so long, he had shielded her from that truth. But now, things were different. He needed her to understand that his relationship with you was no longer just about the two of you—it was about Jina.

To his surprise, his mother had listened quietly, her face drawn and serious. She had taken the news with more grace than he’d expected, though he knew it wasn’t easy for her. When he asked for her understanding and support moving forward, she had nodded, albeit hesitantly. The wounds were still fresh, but at least they were out in the open now.

Jina, unaware of all the complexity around her, was the glue that kept things light. She had no idea what her parents were going through emotionally, and for that, Joshua was grateful. All she saw was that both her parents were around more and that they were starting to act like a family again. One night at dinner, she had blurted out, "I love it when we’re all together!" Her bright smile and simple joy hit Joshua right in the heart, making everything feel worth it.

It wasn’t long before you and Joshua found yourselves sharing a bed again—not out of any sudden romantic resurgence, but because Jina wanted it that way. She had insisted that the three of you sleep in the same room, piling up her blankets and toys in your bed. Joshua had been nervous at first, wondering if this step would complicate things between you two. But Jina, being the little whirlwind that she was, had no idea of her parents' internal struggles.

What made it easier—what turned the nerve-wracking into something sweet—was Jina’s newfound love for counting. Every night, before bed, she would proudly count to twenty, her voice a mix of concentration and excitement.

“One… two… three…” she would begin, and Joshua and you would both have to follow along, pretending to be as invested as she was. By the time she reached twenty, Jina would cheer, pleased with her accomplishment, and only then would she allow herself to settle down, curling up between you both.

As Joshua lay there, the warmth of Jina’s tiny body nestled against him, he couldn’t help but feel like life was starting to come together. It wasn’t perfect, and there were still a lot of unspoken things between you and him, but for now, this small routine, this quiet moment with Jina, was enough to keep him going. It was the family life he’d always wanted, and he was willing to take it one step at a time, hoping that eventually, everything else would fall into place too.

*

Joshua was in the middle of an important meeting when his other secretary stepped into the conference room, catching his main secretary’s attention with an urgent signal. Joshua noticed the subtle exchange but didn’t think much of it until his main secretary quietly approached him, phone in hand, his expression grave.

“Sir,” he whispered, “your daughter has been rushed to the hospital.”

Joshua’s heart stopped. Without a second thought, he abruptly ended the meeting and rushed out, his mind racing as he made his way to the hospital.

When he arrived, he spotted you standing motionless in front of the ICU, your eyes locked on Jina, who was lying weakly on the hospital bed, her small body surrounded by machines. The sight made his breath catch in his throat.

“What happened?” Joshua’s voice was thick with fear as he approached you, but you didn’t immediately respond. You looked distant, as if the weight of the situation had drained all the life from you.

Around you, the family had gathered—your secretary, your brother Seungcheol, and your mother, all wearing similar expressions of dread. It felt suffocating.

“Where’s Minji?” Joshua asked about Jina's nanny, his voice sharper than intended. His mind was racing, trying to grasp any detail that might help him understand the situation.

“She’s been dismissed for a week,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible. You turned and glanced at your mother, who silently pulled you into a tight embrace.

Joshua’s heart clenched with confusion and fear. “What’s happening?” he asked, turning to Seungcheol, desperate for answers.

Seungcheol hesitated, his eyes filled with sadness. “Her heartbeat dropped.”

Joshua felt like the ground had been ripped out from under him. His pulse roared in his ears. The words didn’t seem real. His little girl, who was so full of life just hours ago, was now fighting to survive.

The doctor appeared, asking for both parents to step forward. Joshua moved on autopilot, standing beside you as the doctor spoke.

“I’m afraid Jina’s condition is critical,” the doctor said gravely. “Her lungs have collapsed, and their function has been decreasing over time. We are doing everything we can, but...” He paused, his expression pained. “You need to prepare for the worst.”

The room seemed to close in on Joshua. He glanced at you, your face pale and expression blank, as though you hadn’t quite processed the enormity of the situation. He wanted to reach out, to hold you, to reassure you—maybe even reassure himself—but he felt paralyzed by fear.

The weight of the doctor's words hung in the air, crushing, unforgiving. And for the first time in his life, Joshua felt completely powerless.

*

"You knew about this." Joshua's voice cut through the heavy silence as you stepped into the house after the funeral.

Everything had happened so fast. In just eight hours, you lost Jina forever. The world seemed to blur around you, every moment a haze of grief and disbelief.

You collapsed onto the couch, still in your black dress. Joshua sat on the floor in front of you, his suit rumpled, his tie undone, holding your hand tightly as if you were his last lifeline. His eyes searched yours, filled with sorrow and something close to desperation. "Did you know this was going to happen?" he asked, his voice a whisper but laden with the weight of his pain.

You couldn’t meet his gaze at first, the tears spilling down your cheeks for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Even though you had expected this, even though you had imagined it in your worst nightmares every night for weeks, it still felt impossible. How could Jina be gone?

Slowly, you nodded, your breath hitching as you tried to speak. "Since the surgery," you choked out between sobs. You lowered your head, resting it on your knees, while Joshua’s head dropped into your hand, both of you clinging to the last vestiges of each other as the world fell apart.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" he whispered, his voice cracking. "Why didn’t you let me prepare?"

"I couldn’t," you replied, the words barely making it out through your tears. "I couldn’t bear to say it out loud... not to you."

Joshua’s grip on your hand tightened as his body shook with silent sobs. "So you’ve been counting down to this day?" His voice was raw, filled with disbelief and heartache.

You nodded again, unable to stop the flood of tears. "Everything I did... was for her. I didn’t want to burden you with the truth, not when there was a chance..." Your words trailed off into the weight of your grief.

For a long moment, you both sat there, entwined in each other's pain, crying for the daughter you loved more than anything, for the future that was now gone, for the emptiness that Jina's absence left behind.

Joshua's head rested against your hand, and for once, you let yourself cry together with him, no walls, no shields, just the raw and unrelenting agony of loss. There were no words that could fix this, no actions that could bring her back.

You still remembered the moment the doctor delivered the devastating news. Jina’s condition was worsening rapidly, her lungs failing. "She needs a donor immediately," the doctor had said, his expression grave. "But even with a donor, her body won’t recover more than 50%. It would only extend her life by a few months."

Those words had shattered you. But instead of collapsing under the weight of grief, you had shifted into survival mode, planning out every detail. You formulated a plan, almost like a business pitch in your head—asking Joshua to be the donor for Jina and ensuring that her last months were spent together as a family.

You approached Joshua on the day he found out about Jina, masked in calmness, hiding your desperation. You asked him to be the donor, and to your relief, he agreed without hesitation. Everything seemed to fall into place—Joshua moved back in, you created a life that felt, for once, complete. But all the while, you knew time was ticking.

Seungcheol had been the one to snap you out of your delusions, his blunt words slapping reality into you. "You need to accept that Jina wants to live a full life with both of her parents," he had said, his voice firm but understanding. "She deserves that. You both do."

That was when you accepted Joshua’s offer to move in together. You knew it wasn’t just for Jina—it was for you too. Jina’s happiness in her final days became your only priority. You spent your days like a family, and for everyone else, it looked like a dream come true. But every passing moment felt like walking through hell for you, knowing that Jina’s time was running out.

Every night, after you put Jina to bed and Joshua retreated to his room, you would sit in the darkness and cry, trying to hold on to every precious second. You could feel the inevitability of her leaving you, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to tell Joshua the truth about how close the end really was.

Jina had been happy. She got the life she wanted, with her two parents by her side, filling her days with laughter and love. But for you, it was a torturous countdown. Every tick of the clock reminded you that this family, this life, would soon shatter.

You held it together for her. You played the role, smiled through the pain, and made sure Joshua never suspected how deep your sorrow ran. And now, sitting in the empty house, that silence pressed down on you. You had given Jina everything you could, but the ache of her absence was more than you could bear.

After Jina’s passing, the house was cloaked in an oppressive silence. The once lively and joy-filled rooms now seemed hollow, echoing with the absence of her laughter. You found Joshua in the kitchen, his face drawn and tired. He had been trying to hold everything together, for Jina and for you, but the weight of loss had become too heavy to bear alone.

You approached him quietly, a lump in your throat. "Joshua," you began softly, your voice trembling, "the role of being Jina's parent... it’s over now. We both did everything we could for her, and she’s no longer with us."

Joshua’s eyes filled with pain, but he nodded slowly. "I know. It’s just hard to let go."

"I understand," you said, feeling the sting of tears behind your eyes. "But now it’s time for us to return to who we were before all of this began. We have to face reality."

Joshua’s gaze was distant, as if he was still trying to process everything. "And what about us? What do we do now?"

The heaviness in the room was almost suffocating as you stood there, Joshua’s hand still in yours. His grip tightened, as though he could feel something slipping away.

“There’s no ‘us’ in the present, Joshua,” you said softly, pulling your hand away. Your voice was steady, but the words felt like sharp edges, cutting through the fragile connection that had formed between you both in the past few months. "No ‘us’ without Jina."

Joshua blinked, his face crumpling slightly as the truth of your words hit him. “But we’ve been—”

“There’s no point in pretending,” you interrupted, your voice wavering but firm. “Everything we did, everything we built these last few months... it was for Jina. Now that she’s gone, there’s nothing holding us together anymore.”

Joshua stood still, his breath catching as he looked at you, a storm of emotions brewing behind his eyes. “I love you, Y/n,” he confessed, his voice thick with desperation. “I’ve never stopped loving you. I can't stop loving you.”

You froze, his words like an old wound being torn open. You looked down at the floor, the weight of his love too heavy, too late. The silence between you was deafening, and for a moment, it felt like time had stopped.

Finally, you looked up, meeting his eyes with a sadness you couldn’t mask. “I lost my sense to love you the same again when you told me to leave years ago, Joshua,” you said quietly, each word carrying the weight of the past. “When you pushed me away, that’s when it all broke. And I don’t think I can find that part of myself again.”

Joshua’s face crumpled with guilt and regret, his shoulders sagging as he absorbed the truth. “I didn’t mean to... I was scared, I was confused—”

“I know,” you cut him off, your voice gentle but firm. “But it doesn’t change what happened. We can’t undo the pain we caused each other. We’ve both lost so much. I don’t have the strength to go back and try to fix us.”

Tears welled up in his eyes, but he didn’t move, didn’t try to argue. He just nodded slowly, as though he had finally accepted the truth that had been looming over both of you.

"I wish things could be different," Joshua whispered.

“So do I,” you whispered back, the finality of your words settling in the air between you.

Joshua watched the video in silence, his hands trembling slightly as he held the phone. The screen flickered with a memory that wasn’t his own, but one that pierced through his heart like a knife. The video showed you recording Jina on the beach during a sunny weekend. Her small hands sifted through the golden sand, her laughter ringing out like a melody against the backdrop of crashing waves.

Your voice came through the speakers, bright and warm, filled with an unmistakable love. “Are you happy, Jina?” you asked, the camera focusing on her tiny face lit up with joy.

Jina giggled, a sound so innocent and pure that it felt like a balm and a wound all at once. “I’ve never been this happy, Mom!” she exclaimed, tossing sand into the air in celebration.

Joshua couldn’t help but smile faintly at her enthusiasm, but his chest tightened as the moment unfolded.

Then came her next words—words that felt like a punch to the gut. “I could’ve died!” Jina declared, her small arms flailing dramatically.

Your voice faltered in the video, turning hoarse as you gently scolded her. “Don’t say that, Jina. It’s not a nice word.”

The weight in your tone was evident, even through the recording, and Joshua felt it too—a mixture of fear, protectiveness, and sorrow.

On the screen, Jina’s expression softened, and she stared directly at the camera, her small lips forming a pout. “Sorry,” she mumbled, her voice small and sincere.

Joshua felt his tears begin to fall, hot and unchecked, as he watched her. The sight of her—the way she wrinkled her nose in apology, her innocent smile shining like the sun—was too much to bear.

“I’m just so happy with you and Daddy here that I think I could’ve died,” Jina added, her voice brighter now, as if she wanted to reassure you. Then she raised her tiny hand as if making a solemn vow. “But I promise I won’t actually die, Mom!”

Joshua’s vision blurred as the tears came harder, streaking his face and dripping onto his hands. He pressed a hand over his mouth, trying to stifle the sob that threatened to escape, but it was no use.

On the screen, Jina beamed at the camera, her small frame outlined by the golden rays of the sun. She was radiant, alive, and so full of promise.

“Jina,” Joshua whispered, his voice breaking. His little angel. His light. The realization hit him like a tidal wave—she had found her home, her happiness, her peace. And yet, he was still strayed, lost in a storm of his own making.

The video ended, but the sound of her laughter lingered in his mind, echoing like a prayer.

*

"I can raise her alone," you insisted, your voice steady but filled with underlying desperation. You were sitting across from Seungcheol in the quiet of your dimly lit living room. It was late, but the weight of the conversation felt heavier than the silence of the night.

Seungcheol, ever pragmatic, leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Yes, you can,” he said, his tone measured but firm. “But are you really going to ignore what the doctor said? Jina needs a donor as soon as possible, Y/n. There’s no one else—only her father.”

Your heart sank at his words, the weight of the truth pressing down on you like a boulder. “He hurt me,” you whispered, your voice cracking. The memories of Joshua’s rejection and the pain he left you with resurfaced, raw and unhealed.

Seungcheol’s expression softened, and without hesitation, he stood and walked over to you. Gently, he pulled you into his arms, his embrace warm and steady. “I know,” he murmured, his chin resting lightly on top of your head. “I know he hurt you. But he’s still her father, Y/n. And right now, Jina needs him. That’s the only way to save her.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as the magnitude of the situation hit you. For a long moment, you let yourself lean into Seungcheol’s support, the sound of his heartbeat steadying your own chaotic thoughts. His words lingered, piercing through your pain: This is the only way.

After what felt like hours but was likely only a few minutes, you pulled back and nodded. “Okay,” you said quietly, your voice trembling but resolute. “Let’s do it. Prepare whatever I need to get this started.”

Seungcheol’s face brightened with determination. “Good,” he said firmly, already moving into action. He reached into his bag and pulled out a folder, handing it to you. “Here’s everything you need. I’ll coordinate the rest. I’ve already asked Chan to assist you during this time. I’ll brief him myself.”

Your gaze fell on the cover of the folder, and the bold letters stared back at you like a challenge: The Hong Joshua Project.

It felt clinical, impersonal even, but you knew this was no ordinary task—it was the fight for Jina’s life. You flipped through the pages, scanning the meticulous plans Seungcheol had outlined, and you felt a surge of gratitude for him. He had always been there, a constant source of strength and clarity in your life.

Seungcheol placed his hands firmly on your shoulders, grounding you. “Listen to me, Y/n,” he said, his eyes locked on yours. “This is going to be hard. A very hard journey. You’ll need to push aside your emotions, your pride, and everything else you’re feeling—for Jina’s sake. But I promise you, I’ll be right here. I’ve got your back, just like I always have.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. Memories of all the times Seungcheol had stepped in to support you flooded your mind. He wasn’t just a brother— he was a bestfriend, family, a lifeline, and you knew you could trust him with anything.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity. “For everything.”

Seungcheol smiled faintly, his grip on your shoulders tightening briefly in reassurance. “Now,” he said, stepping back and gesturing to the folder in your hands, “this project starts today. Let’s save her.”

And with those words, the weight of the task ahead settled over you. It wasn’t going to be easy—nothing about this would be. But for Jina, for the little girl who was your entire world, you would endure anything. Even if it meant facing the man who had broken your heart.

[sporadicallyanenthusiast]

First of all, let me just thank you for taking the time to explain all of these points! There were many contexts here I didn't know about and it helps make more sense of the story! So thank you so much ❤️

And the thing about Ancient Greek and color is really fascinating! Kudos to the people that first began translating the ancient texts, because oh boy! Hahaha @mari--lace also mentioned in the replies how it is not a consensus on Athena's eye color either. I've only ever heard about the "wine colored sea" point, but never had the thought to dig deeper and learn more. I am definitely going to change that hahaha There are so many interesting things to learn, no wonder so many scientists have been studying the topic for centuries.

I'll have to admit, our poor Menelaus really did suffer a lot, dear Gods. Since my first contact with him was through the Odyssey and some fandom posts, sometimes I forget Agamemnon was his brother. And yes, as much as he loved Odysseus, learning about your brother's death like that can't be easy to digest. And the timeline of how long he stayed shipwrecked was a little fuzzy to me, so it makes sense that after 7 years, his memory would be hazy! I see what you mean when you refer to it as a vision/dream now. I didn't know Aegisthus had them exiled either, so that definitely adds even another layer to the hell Menelaus' life was at that time! We talk so much about Odysseus' hardships, but oh my, poor Mene didn't catch a break either, I'm appalled ���� I have yet to wrap my mind around the fact the the poems were supposed to be performed out loud as well. A lot of the narrative choices make way more sense when you remember that, it's not just a regular book. I suppose that is why some things sound jarring when you read it for the first time.

And yes! Oh my, I never thought the texts would be so expressive and so warm, you know? We tend to have this idea that people from different times were too cold and distant, but they were still human at the end of the day. Of course they'd be affectionate to the ones they loved! And to be honest, it reminds me of when I read Sherlock Holmes for the first time. It really caught me by surprise how Sherlock and Watson were described and how they talked about each other in such a loving way. I don't know when we stopped writing platonic relationships so beautifully like that, but it truly is a loss to modern literature, in my humble opinion.

And I had no idea about Odysseus' own prophecy! I did know he tried to avoid going to war, but I just assumed it was because he had a newborn son and wanted to be there for Penelope. In that scenario, it really is fair to point out Menelaus trying to warn them wouldn't change much. On that note, Athena herself also told Telemachus Odysseus was alive and he didn't believe her, the Wisdom Goddess hahaha I hadn't thought about that before, but it really does illustrate how hopeless all of them were. If Telemachus didn't believe Athena, you're right, he wouldn't really care about Menelaus' letter either.

I knew about the law of Xenia, so I assumed that was the only reason stopping them from sending the suitors away. I admit I was a tad bit confused why Telemachus didn't force the suitors to leave once he outright had Athena's and Zeus' blessing, so your explanation really helped me make sense of everything!

It's such a nice and sweet detail to have Telemachus and Odysseus going through their journeys at the same time (Telemachus' first journey and Odysseus' last journey, even!), only to meet again at home and taking back control of their palace together. Maybe I teared up a bit, can't deny nor confirm hahahahaha

You are still way more knowledgeable on the topic, and your academic background gives a perspective other people might not have. So I think it's fair to call you as such 🥰❤️

Oh, I see! Sorry, I'm a bit too anxious at times and end up worrying too much that I gave the wrong impression or was rude by accident hahaha

This has been a lovely discussion indeed! Once again, thank you so much for being so kind to explain everything, I'll definitely be reading the books with new perspectives and insights!

Telemachus is so much stronger than me for real. Cause if I had traveled for days, by sea AND land, arrived at the palace of my father's friend and my mother's cousin to humbly ask if they know anything about my missing father and instead of just fucking telling me already, this mf started a monologue about how gay he is for my dad and about the time he captured a God that granted him wishes three, I'd already be telling him to Hurry The Fuck Up. IT'S BEEN TEN YEARS, I DON'T HAVE ALL DAY.

But if the same motherfucker then turned around and told me that he had known FOR YEARS NOW that my dad is trapped on an island AND THE MOTHERFUCKER DIDN'T TELL ANYONE!!!! NOT A SINGLE LETTER!!! I would have already strangled Menelaus with that fucking blond hair of his in front of his wife and children, unhelpful son of a bitch.

[sinofwriting]

All Relaxed - Jenson Button/Reader/Logan Sargeant

Words: 1,698 Summary: Jenson sees how stressed Logan and his girlfriend are and just wants to get rid of it for them. Note(s): Slightly NSFW, Dom/Sub Relationship/Dynamics. Dom!Jenson, Sub!Logan, Sub!Reader. Don’t be like them and approach a brand new dom/sub relationship like this, I beg of you. Also, no one ask how this ship popped into my head, I can’t be held accountable for my thoughts.

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Jenson watches as both Logan and Y/N practically stumble into where the fan stage would be happening. You’d think they had just woken up, but he can tell that still sleep is invading them. The circles under their eyes have worsened and his worry grows when he notices them both shake their head at food being offered. The same thing they did yesterday as well.

He more than knew how rough Formula 1 could be and that was before they made the calendar twenty-four races long. But he never had been that exhausted. Some of it was without a doubt the treatment of Williams affecting him and Jenson had tried alleviating that, trying to somewhat step into the mentor role, but it was obvious that he wasn’t doing enough.

And poor Y/N had broken down in his arms the last time they saw each other about everything going on with her family and school.

He wants to fix it. To see them without any worries, to see them relaxed. All loose limbs, no tension, eye bags and circles gone. He’d like to see them not look so gaunt as well. He’s sure Elias is fine, but it’s obvious he doesn’t know Logan. Benny would have straightened Logan’s current less than stellar eating habits in a few days and Jenson knows it’s been at least a month of Logan barely eating anything unless it’s one of his premade meals.

It’s the thought of wanting to see them all relaxed that has him begin to plot. It would be far too easy to invite them to his house in California. Undisturbed, no close enough neighbors to really bother them, not that he planned on really having them leave the house. If anyone spotted them it would be the end of a peaceful trip. And he knows that they are both free for the next two weeks. He had heard Logan mention it just the day before.

He starts making a list of groceries that need to be ordered, then he makes an email to a friend who owns a private jet and owes him a favor. He texts his housekeeper, asking if she wouldn’t mind going to his house today if she has time and straightening up the place.

As he starts to order the groceries, his attention is drawn away by the sound of a breathless sort of sigh. His eyebrows quirk up when he notices that it was her and he follows her eyes and fully understands, his throat going a little dry.

Logan had been put into a tight-fitting team shirt, something either tailored to him or knowing Williams and their budget they had just given him a smaller size and it looked good on him. The thin fabric clinging to every muscle and inch of his upper half. Jenson hadn’t realized that Logan had gained that much muscle since last year, even despite not eating it seemed he was keeping it well.

He watches as Logan smiles at him before looking at his girlfriend, sending her a small wink and Jenson can’t help but look at her, see how she reacts, and he shifts in his seat seeing the grin on her face, the way her shoulders have slightly relaxed.

What he wouldn’t give to see them both all relaxed for him, laying flat on their backs in his bed, letting him take care of them. He nearly drops his phone as the thought strikes him. Fuck.

—

Jenson watches amused as they walk around his house. Perhaps it was stupid to still invite them to his house after realizing he wanted them both in his bed. But he couldn’t continue to let them go about running on fumes.

“You guys go get settled, take a nap, rest, and I’ll cook dinner.”

“Let me help, Jenson.”

He shakes his head at her offer, “I’ve got it, sweetheart. I’ll come and get you both when it’s all ready.”

She looks ready to protest again, Logan as well, but he gives them both a stern look, and a simmer of arousal hits him as they both immediately start walking to the guest bedroom with quiet thank you’s. This might end up being a bit harder than he thought.

It does end up being harder than he thought, a lot harder in fact. It seems him realizing he didn’t just find them both attractive but also just plain and simple liked them had opened the floodgates. And their responses to him taking care of them was certainly not helping either.

It was only the third day of them being here but Jenson was sure he was going to cause a bit of an issue with the water with how many cold showers he might end up taking. His satisfaction of them letting him take care of them instantly turned to arousal.

That same day however after dinner as they laze about in the living room while he cleans up the dishes he realizes that they might feel the same way. They can’t stop looking at him. At first, he thought maybe they wanted something but were too shy to say something but when he looked over, they both looked away, clearly flustered at being caught and when he went back to cleaning up, their eyes were on him again, lingering.

It’s confirmation, but he doesn’t plan on doing anything about it, not until hours later as he does his rounds in the house, making sure everything is locked up and he passes their room and he hears them both.

The light sound of skin coming together, small whines and breaths that are more like gasps. His hand palms himself before he can stop it and then he hears it. His name. He freezes, thinking he must have misheard, but then he hears it again, the both of them moaning his name.

He barely makes it to his bedroom, back against the door as he presses his hand into his bottoms and jerks himself off, finishing quickly and making a mess of his sweatpants.

Jenson of course brings it up the next morning. The two are so flustered that even if he hadn’t heard he could guess that something happened.

“Good sleep?” He starts off with, hiding his smirk by taking a drink of coffee.

They both nod, shoulders tensing a little and that has him frowning, setting his mug down. He just started making progress on their tension. “You both sounded lovely.”

Logan’s head snaps up, eyes wide as he looks at him while she gasps, hands coming up to cover her face.

His eyes flicker between the both of them. “I wouldn’t mind hearing you both say my name like that again. Maybe with the visuals as well.”

She makes a squeaky noise at his words and Logan’s cheeks have managed to turn more pink.

“And just to be clear, I wouldn’t want it to be a one time thing, or just sex.”

“But, you want the both of us? I mean more with the both of us?”

Jenson smiles gently at Logan’s nervousness. “Yes, the both of you. I want to take care of you two. And sex doesn’t have to be on the table, I’ll still happily do it without anything sexual, but I figured I’d put it on the table.”

Logan looks a little confused but before Jenson can say anything else, she’s giving a slight tug to Logan’s shirt.

“He’s offering to be our dom.” Her voice is quiet, the words clearly meant for Logan, but her eyes flicker over to him as well.

The American’s eyes widened. “Oh. I, we’ve never,”

“Done this before?”

They both shake their heads.

“I sort of figured. It’s not something I’ve done lots of either to be clear and never on this level. The last time I dommed was years ago and it was just sex. What I would like with us would be more than sex if we even agree to have sex be a part of it at all or to do this.”

“Why do you want to?”

Jenson smiles at her question. “I like you both and want to take care of you. You’re both stressed, spiraling. Barely sleeping or eating. Your shoulders are practically touching your ears with how much tension you both are carrying. I want to ease that, take everything off your shoulders, make it better or rather easier to deal with.”

“And you like taking care of people.”

“Not everyone.” He corrects. “I’m a bit too selfish for that, but certain people,” and his eyes flicker between them. “Absolutely.”

It’s not a very long talk, not as detailed as it should be. But he promises himself that he will sit down with them tomorrow to talk everything out, but they’ve got the basics down. They all are interested in the sexual and in private, like Jenson’s home, are happy to be submissive but don’t want it to bleed into their work/student life as much as they can. He makes sure they know to tell him no. He doesn’t foresee himself pressing too hard about taking breaks and such that it would make their work and student life suffer, but it’s always a possibility and he is far from perfect.

And now not even two hours after waking up he’s got them both in his bed and he can’t help the slight amusement he feels seeing them both wearing Logan’s boxer briefs, he’ll have to see about getting them in his next time. His amusement doesn’t last long however as he takes them in, both laying flat on their backs, upper halves completely bare, both stunning.

“Gorgeous.” He murmurs, sitting at the end of the bed and pressing a kiss to Logan’s calf and then hers. “Both of you look gorgeous for me.”

Her breath audibly stutters, while Logan lets out a keen, fingers twisting in the sheets.

He tuts at the tight grip, running his fingers over the younger man’s until he loosens it. “That’s better. Let’s get you both all relaxed for me, yeah?”

“Yes, Jenson.” They say together and his cock twitches. Fuck is he lucky.

[tswwwit]

Here's a stupid meet-the-sibling thing from Portal AU!

Dipper checks his watch for the third time in two minutes, foot tapping nervously against the pavement. Mabel’s usually one to run late, but not this late. 

Twenty minutes have passed since they were supposed to meet up at this coffee shop, and between the fact that his twin’s always eager to see him, and the odd magical blips on his radar in the last hour, he’s starting to wonder if she’s gotten herself in trouble. Again. 

Driven by worry, he checks his phone again - the regular one. No texts, no missed calls. A second check shows nothing on his other phone either, which is arguably just as worrying but for different reasons.

Dipper slumps back in his seat, rubbing at his eyes. 

Great. Exactly what he needed. As if this whole conversation wasn’t going to be weird enough, now he’s got more to stress about. A sister in trouble, maybe, and a magical incident, probably. Not to mention who would obviously get involved with one of those, just to add the cherry on top of a messed up situation.

He’s just about decided to get up and start investigating when he hears the shout.

“Dipper!” 

Jerking up from his seat, Dipper turns towards his sister’s voice. 

Mabel runs down the sidewalk, arms raised and waving wildly, sending her bracelets banging against each other as her earrings bounce along with her steps. She doesn’t slow down as she approaches, instead throwing herself forward until Dipper has to catch her hug with an ‘oof’ of effort. 

He hugs her back in response and gets squeezed so hard it nearly takes the breath out of him, including a brief moment where he’s worried that her earrings will catch on his clothes. 

After a moment he pushes her back, smiling. How long has it been since he’s seen her in person? Four months? Five? From the occasional phone call he knew she was doing well, but it’s good to see her looking so happy in person.

“It’s good to see you.” He gives her a big pat on the back, and gets a ‘bwomp bwomp’ in return. 

“You too, bro-bro.” Mabel steps away, then blinks in surprise. “You look great! Is that a new look?” She gives him a once over, then beams, patting her cheeks. “Oh my gosh, that’s perfect timing!”

“Well, I-” Dipper plucks at his shirt - it’s not that different from his usual, just better fitted. 

So, he may or may not have gotten a lecture on fashion. A very long one. Followed by several insistent recommendations about his outfits, including having a literal pile of clothes dumped on him out of nowhere. He didn’t think it made that big a difference. But maybe it does?

“Okay, okay, I know you had something important you wanted to talk about, but listen.” Mabel rushes to speak, bubbling over with enthusiasm. Dipper lets her take his hands and clasp them tight as she bounces in place. “I just met. The hottest guy.”

“Ugh,” Dipper groans, shoulders slumping. Not another shitty crush. He thought she was over those by now. Still, if it puts his own thing off… “What kind of jerk is it this time?”

“Okay, one? Not a jerk! And two: He’s not for me, you dork!” 

“Wait, what?” Dipper holds her at arm’s length, staring. 

“So like I said,” Mabel continues, giving him a Look. “I met this guy, and we got to talking, and he’s, like, super fun - but clearly into dudes. So I sorta mentioned a certain brother, and guess what! He likes magic, and monsters, and he even says he has a thing for nerds!” She lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s perfect. You’ll love him.” 

With another groan, Dipper drags a palm down his face. 

Damn it. He knows that she worries about him finding someone since he’s always on the move. Between trying to keep up with the jobs, and tracking monsters, and everything else in his life, he rarely has time for a break. Mabel playing matchmaker isn’t new. Only her choice of candidate, which sounds strangely.. On point?

Hell, a while ago - less than two months, at that - he might have welcomed an intro to this guy, whoever it is. It wasn’t like he was meeting a lot of people himself. 

But oh god. The timing.

“Look, I’m glad you thought of me, but-” Dipper starts, holding up his hands in defense.

“Oh no. Nope! No more of this ‘too busy’, or ‘probably not my type’ stuf. I vetted him Dipper,” Mabel insists, lower lip pouting out - oh god, the puppy eyes, he has to turn away -  “You’re on the road all the time and all alone all the time. So if you aren’t gonna try and meet someone, I gotta have your back.”

Dipper tilts his head back, shuts his eyes, and prays deep down for strength. 

He didn’t want to open with this information. It’s a pretty long story, one with a lot of twists and turns, even some bits that she’s going to feel very ‘I knew it!!’ about. But a little sisterly smugness is way, way better than getting dragged into a date with some guy. 

Even if Dipper turns it down first thing, it could end… Pretty badly. 

He opens his mouth to say so, and gets interrupted by hands clapping on his face, forcing him to meet her eyes.

“Oh my god, don’t look now.” She whispers, turning him back to look at her when his head instinctively swivels. “But he’s right here. I didn’t think he’d show up this soon!”

“Why shouldn’t I look at the guy you’re trying to hook me up with.” He says, flat. It comes out a bit garbled from the pressure on his cheeks.

“Because you’ll freak out thinking he’s out of your league! And he’s not!” Mabel insists, shaking him urgently. “Just be cool for once, okay?”

Dipper has never, ever been cool for a single instant in his life. He doesn’t know why his twin thinks he’s even capable of it. Add on the multiple reasons he can’t exactly flirt with some random dude that Mabel met on the street, and it’s a recipe for infinite awkwardness. 

Before he can explain why this is a bad idea, on so many levels, Mabel straightens up. 

“Hey, glad you made it” She beams at a point over Dipper’s shoulder. “Let me introduce you to-”

A cheerful laugh interrupts her, high and bright. It lingers longer than it should, seconds past the point where it’d be appropriate - then two firm hands clap onto Dipper’s shoulders, squeezing tight. 

“Well, well, well, well, well!” The voice behind him oozes smug pleasure. The grip on his shoulders tightens briefly, then slides down to his biceps in a slow, appreciative stroke. “So this is the famous Dipper Pines, huh?”

The voice, the touch. The smug, amused tone of someone pulling off an amazing joke that nobody’s caught onto yet-

Yeah, that all tracks. 

Dipper doesn’t resist when the man whips him around, frowning up into the beaming face of Bill goddamn Cipher. 

“Boy, you weren’t kidding! He is cute!” Bill exclaims, expression perfectly surprised and delighted. Like he’s never seen this face before in his life. He turns towards Mabel. “And you say this guy’s single?”

“Yep!” She gives a big double-thumbs up. Another person might mistake the way her eye’s moving as a twitch, but it’s just a million winks at Dipper, packed into too small a space. 

Bill lets out a low whistle. “Dang, that’s a shame.” The grins creeps up another fraction. “A smart guy woulda snagged him up the moment they saw him in person!”

Dipper lets out a strangled sound from his throat. Despite the… everything, his face feels hot, turning pink with embarrassment.

He glares at this smug, double-talking jackass. Bill beams back at him with unashamed delight.

From the side, Mabel hisses in annoyance at his reaction. She gestures towards Bill insistently, waving over his body, his arms. She points at his face twice, eyes wide like Dipper hasn’t seen it yet.

But there’s no point in her pointing. Dipper’s well acquainted with every part of his boyfriend. 

Including his tendency to not mention important facts.

So there’s the reason she was late. The reasons for the magic pulses - of course his stupid demon wouldn’t give him any heads up that he was already planetside. And the reason why the guy she met was oh-so-conveniently into nerds, especially ones related to Mabel friggin’ Pines. 

Why did Dipper think mentioning his family was a good idea? It’s only given Bill more chances for chaos. 

Or in this case, a really stupid prank.

“Now let’s see,” Bill says, more contemplative now. His eye roves over Dipper, head to toe. “What else you got going, kid?”

But. Okay, the attention’s nice. It’s never not been nice, even when it’s been creepy and strange and inhuman. 

Maybe playing along a little couldn’t hurt?

“I-” Dipper starts rubbing the back of his neck. If he looks his boyfriend in the eye while lying like a rug, he’ll never pull this off. “Well, I-”

“Oh! Like I said, he’s really into magic. Like you!” Mabel interrupts, bouncing in place. Her voice lowers, as if sharing a secret. “He does freelance work, y’know?”

“Is that so!” Bill’s mouth forms a perfect ‘o’ of surprise. Dipper half expects him to clap a hand to his cheek in astonishment. “Why, I never! A monster hunter? Right in front of me?”

“You betcha!” Proudly, Mabel sets fists on her hips. All too eager to hype man her brother before he’s said anything himself. “On the track of a dangerous criminal and everything!”

“Wow!” Bill, looking suitably impressed, somehow avoids having his pants set aflame from the sheer force of lying. “I bet he’s a nasty customer, too! A real devilish fellow!”

God, the puns hurt. Dipper can’t help but make a face, which gets another disappointed look from his sister, and a sinister gleam starts building up in Bill’s eye - 

Alright, that’s enough. 

Lying to Mabel would have been bad enough - but between their discussion and Dipper not getting a word in, Bill’s getting so full of himself that he might just explode. And that needs nipping in the bud, immediately.

Dipper shoves Bill back a pace, brushing off his shirt. He gives this asshole the full narrow-eyed glare and, ignoring the aghast look from his sister, flips his asshole boyfriend off. 

“Hey!” Affronted, Mabel takes a step in, taking his arm. “What the heck, Dipper?”

“Mabel, listen,” Dipper starts, only to get shushed by his sister and turned to face Bill by said asshole.

“And you’re feisty as well? Jackpot!” Bill beams, taking his head in his hands. “Now, let’s see about the rest of ya.”

Before Dipper can guess what that means  - or even ask - Bill tugs his shirt up. The only reason it doesn’t come completely off is because Dipper recognizes the motion and jerks his arms down in time. 

“Hey!” He struggles with Bill’s grip on his shirt, planting a palm on Bill’s face as he leans in for closer inspection. “What the hell, man?”

“Yep, that’s a fighter alright! Real nice view!” Bill says, after lingering too long ogling unwillingly exposed flesh. He lets the shirt drop - Dipper spends a second straightening it out - only to grab onto his butt next in a full-palm fondle. “Aha! Now that’s where it’s at!”

It’s so like Bill to start flinging compliments while completely breaking every polite convention known to man. He can never do anything straightforward. Possibly he’s allergic. With a swear, Dipper grapples with his jackass boyfriend again, trying to retain some semblance of dignity. 

Mabel stands off to the side, mouth agape. Silently staring between the two of them, too stunned to react. 

Clearly she wasn’t expecting this kind of crap. And honestly? Dipper can’t blame her. Bill’s pretty good at covering his asshole tendencies when he wants. 

Dipper can handle it, though. He’s already halfway pried the groping grasp off his butt when Bill’s other hand rotates to the front, taking hold with alarming swiftness. The high-pitched yelp he lets out is, thankfully, only from surprise.

“Hey!” And that gesture must have finally shaken Mabel from her shock, because now she looks offended. “Bill! What are you doing?”

“Cute, smart, decent body - he’s just like you said! The whole package!” Bill gives his handful a friendly jiggle, looking thrilled to have found a part to grab where he can’t get smacked away lest there be collateral damage. He turns towards Mabel with a grin. “How’s twenty bucks sound?”

The alarmed “What the hell!” from her comes out at the same time as Dipper’s offended, “Only twenty?”

“Oh, no no no,” Mabel waves her hands rapidly, the sleeves of her sweater nearly covering them in the rush.  “He’s not for sale, what the heck!”

“Oh, of course!” Bill releases Dipper’s crotch to smack himself dramatically on the forehead, shaking his head. “Because he’s his own person! With his own life decisions and everything!” His expression turns serious, nodding as if he actually cared about that fact. “No problem, Shooting Star! I’ll just kidnap him instead.”

A sudden swipe behind Dipper’s knees sends him into a swearing fall. One that’s quickly interrupted as he’s scooped up into Bill’s arms, startled and staring into an excited smile. 

Bill gives Mabel a perfunctory half-bow, bounces Dipper in his arms once - then starts sprinting down the street. 

To Mabel’s credit, there’s only a half-second pause before she follows.

“Help! Brother-napping in progress! Stop, you creep!” Mabel shouts, almost louder than Bill can manage. With some effort, Dipper peeks over his shoulder to see a flail of color trailing behind after them, one sweater-clad arm shaking in fury. “You better let him go, or you’ll regret this!”

Bill cackles louder, chest shaking - and one thing about being a demon is that he can really book it when he needs to. 

Dipper finds himself clinging to his ‘kidnapper’ tight, just to feel more comfortable about not being dropped. Not that he needs to worry about that. Even sprinting full-out and laughing, Bill’s not even breathing hard as he flees the wrath of righteousness. 

Dipper thunks his head against his awful, stupid boyfriend’s shoulder, and rolls his eyes. 

Welp. He’s not sure what else he expected. 

Bill’s always going to be Bill, after all. An evil, bored, antagonising force, bent on finding the funniest thing to do and jerking people around by it at every turn. And a vengeful, chaotic asshole. 

It’s hardly surprising that he and he took offense at someone arranging dates with his boyfriend. Whether or not Mabel knew their situation doesn’t matter in his view. It’s the principle of the thing - and, of course, a chance to be a total dick. 

But all things considered, it’s hardly the worst case scenario. 

Bill could have laid on the charm, gaslighting her into thinking he was a different kind of guy. Something that would make their introduction easier - and have her totally ignoring Dipper’s warnings about what kind of guy he is. 

But freaking her out was too funny, and that showed his true colors. And thank fuck for that. The last thing Dipper needs is another handsome guy charming her into a series of Bad Ideas.

As they round a street corner, Dipper uses the momentum to kick a leg free, planting heel against pavement. Bill slows as he tries to both stop him from falling and continue dragging him along. 

“Aw, c’mon,” Bill chides, making a valiant attempt to pick Dipper up again. “Let’s ditch the sibling and get moving! As far as she knows, I’m gonna do all kinds of dastardly things to ya. Terrible ones!” His eye glimmers, briefly unfocused - and Dipper takes the moment of distraction to get both feet on the ground. “Aww, hey!”

“Not a chance.” Dipper says, less annoyed than he’d like. He dodges another grab by stepping neatly to the side. “You’ve had your fun. Now at least try to behave for like, five seconds.”

One look at Bill’s face says that he’s not done with the fun, or at least thoroughly annoyed at its interruption - which means Dipper has to sweeten the pot. 

“I’m sure she’s panicking as we speak,” He adds, rolling his eyes at Bill’s look of pride. “And it was kinda funny. But at least try to good impression, jackass.” Resting a palm on Bill’s arm, he offers a shy smile. “Please?”

“Hmmm.” Bill hums thoughtfully. A second later, he shrugs. “Eh, sure! Probably wasn’t gonna get much mileage outta dragging it out anyway.”

Yep. Another win for Dipper Pines. He’s getting good at this demon-wrangling stuff. 

“Hey!” Mabel rounds the corner, steps clearly flagging. She leans against he building, then glares at Bill. “You can’t just-” 

Then she leans over, bracing herself on her knees as she tries to catch her breath. Dipper’s surprised she caught up this fast, but it wasn’t without effort - he thinks one of her bracelets is missing, and her hair is a mess. 

Dipper offers her a hand, but she waves it off. There’s a thoughtful sound behind him, then arms circle his waist and drag him back into Bill’s grasp. 

“So. I see you’ve met Bill.” Dipper says, finally. He glares a bit over his shoulder as Billtugs him closer to settle in, chin tucked on his shoulder. Probably wearing the very smuggest smile he owns.

“Dipper, I’m sorry,” Mabel blurts. She’s still catching her breath, face red as she flails her sleeves in inarticulate protest. “I didn’t know-”

“That he was an asshole? A jerk? A totally weird creep?” Dipper holds up his hands before she can apologize again. “No, it’s fine. I already knew that. He’s… actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

She pauses, taking in their position. How Dipper’s not struggling, or swearing, or hexing the shit out of his ‘kidnapper’. The worried frown turns more… contemplative. The lightbulb flickers. 

Dipper takes a steadying breath. 

Here goes.

“Mabel, this is… Bill Cipher.” He gestures at Bill, then shoves his head away from his neck before he can leave a hickey. “He’s my boyfriend.”

Mabel boggles at him. There’s no other word for it. Eyes wide, mind clearly racing as she ties in what just happened with how Bill looks and what she thought everything was like just five minutes ago. 

She takes a second, before finally landing on, “What?”

Yeah, that’s a reasonable reaction. 

But if they got along earlier, they’ll… probably get along okay, right? Now that Bill’s got the initial bullshit out of his system, they might even have stuff in common. 

Thank hell for that. Romance is kind of her thing, of course she’s interested. Good thing too. Compared to the rest of his family, Mabel is easy mode. 

Only a second later she claps her hands to her cheeks, gasping hugely. Dipper can almost see the questions about to burst out.

“Let’s go back, get some coffee, and I’ll tell you everything.” Dipper smiles, but speaks before she can start interrogating them on the street. He shrugs Bill off, getting his hand seized in the process. He squeezes it back.  “Trust me, it’s a long story.”

[cha-melodius]

30 for zahra/shaan for the hug prompts if it sparks joy <3

(Thank you for sending this one, I've never really written Zahra/Shaan from either of their POVs and it was a lot of fun. Not to mention this hug prompt was perfect for them. read all the hug ficlets)

30: The reluctant hug from someone who isn’t exactly a fan of physical affection. 

The first time they see each other in person after the email leaks is when Henry goes to DC for Alex’s speech.

Usually, in a situation like this where they’re only interacting for work, neither of them would even think about letting any part of their relationship slip through. All the looks, all the touches, even a hint of personal conversation—that stuff is only let out when they’re off the clock. They’ve crammed a lot into two-day holidays over the last half a year, and even with what little pieces they get of each other, it’s worth it.

Today is different, though. He can see the toll that the leaks and their aftermath have taken on Zahra. Not just because of the political impact, though of course that is her job to deal with, but the personal one too. Zahra cares deeply about Alex, more than she’d ever admit to anyone. Shaan can tell, though. Could tell when he first heard the minute hitch in her breath over the telephone line. She feels responsible, just as he does. They couldn’t protect their charges, no matter how hard they tried.

Now, she’s running around as usual, barely sparing him a glance as she barks out schedules and timing. They’ve landed no more than a half an hour before Alex is due to speak, and it’s a mad rush, even when Alex and Henry disappear for ten minutes, no doubt to do things Shaan would rather not think about. It’s not until later that evening—they’re staying overnight, something he’d quietly insisted upon when they’d made these plans—that Shaan manages to actually catch her.

“Did you need something?” she asks brusquely. He knows better than to take it personally.

“Yes,” he tells her, equally business-like. “Can I speak with you privately for a moment?”

Her eyes flash like she knows what he’s up to. She probably does. Normally, he’d never attempt to request a private moment, even now when most of the White House has retired for the night, but there’s nothing about this situation that’s normal. For a moment he thinks she’s going to refuse, but then she gives a short nod and leads him through a random doorway.

“Ok, Srivastava, what is it? I don’t really have time—” she starts immediately, which is a lie because he personally heard Ellen Claremont say she didn’t need anything else from Zahra tonight.

“Zahra,” he interrupts softly, putting hand over one of hers.

She doesn’t pull away, which is a good sign. Or maybe a bad one. When she looks up at him, the conflict is plain on her face. “We can’t—” she starts. Stops and licks her lips, her lipstick still flawless this late at night. “Not here.”

“I know,” he reassures her. “I’m not asking for much. Just a hug.” She narrows her eyes at him, and Shaan lets his expression soften. “You’d be doing me a favor.”

Even in the moments when they can truly be alone together, Zahra isn’t much of a hugger. She won’t even initiate one on those rare occasions where she wants to be held, so Shaan has learned to detect such circumstances and then ask for one for himself. She always gives a little huff, like it’s a chore, though if she didn’t want to she’d just tell him no and walk away. Then she will reluctantly let herself be drawn into his arms, and only when her face is hidden against his neck will she allow her shoulders to relax. She’ll take a deep breath, her arms tightening around his waist, and he’ll hold her for however long she allows.

Today, Zahra needs a hug, and Shaan will do whatever he must to give it to her. It helps that it’s not a lie—Shaan really could use a hug himself, after everything.

He has to keep himself from smiling when she rolls her eyes and lets out her usual huff. The rest follows as he’s become accustomed to, though she holds him tighter and longer than he was expecting. Then she shocks him by murmuring, “I love you,” into the collar of his shirt. “Thank fuck you’re here.”

“I’m here, my love,” he breathes as he smooths a hand over her hair. “I’m here.”

[vampiricstoryteller]

(Isn’t it) Obvious

Hello everyone 👋🏾 this is my first fanfic in a long long time but I love Richter and Annette so much I just had to write something for them. I’m hella rusty but I hope a few of you find some enjoyment with this one.

All mistakes are my own

Warning: smut, cursing

Annette could admit to herself that she’d thought about kissing Richter more than once. He was a lot of things but unattractive wasn’t one of them. The stupid Belmont boy was gorgeous, with his sapphire eyes and soft brown hair; of course the idea of putting her lips to his has often come to the front of her mind.

There’d been nights when she couldn’t sleep and the snores of everyone around her weren’t their usual soothing noises of companionship; they echoed in her eardrums and reminded her of how unsettled she still felt here. How lonely she was despite being a part of a vampire hunting group. It was maddening.

Until her thoughts inevitably drifted to Richter, as they usually did. Whether he was laying next to her on the cold ground in a bedroll or an entire room away, the mere knowledge that he was close by brought a small bit of peace to her clouded mind.

She would think about laughing at his dumb jokes, fetching water with him from the closest river, sparring with him because he wasn’t afraid to actually throw a punch towards her. He was exciting to her, he made the tips of her fingers and toes tingle. And the space between her thighs ache.

Annette is less willing to admit that she’s been touching herself to thoughts of Richter lately. For the last three nights in a row, her hand has slipped under the fabric of her night clothes and sought out the hidden nub that sends spikes of pleasure crawling up her spine.

It’s embarrassing.

But it’s also one of the best feelings she’s been able to give herself in a long time.

The implications of what that means, however, are always waiting for her when her chest has stopped heaving and there aren’t stars bursting in her eyes anymore. Subconsciously she agonized over the possibility that her growing fondness for Richter Belmont would expose a part of her she never let anyone see before.

It’s why she invites him to come back to Haiti with her, and it’s why she’s currently sat on a bed too small for the two of them, kissing him and doing her best to crawl into his lap.

The kisses started out innocent. At least on Richter’s end. They were a declaration of their feelings for each other. A confirmation that he actually liked her and wasn’t just all talk. But innocent wasn’t what Annette was looking for.

They surveyed that final fight. She was on her way home with him, he agreed to follow her anywhere. And now she wants to do everything with him.

Richter’s hands on her waist pull her from her thoughts, their lips are still moving together and his tongue seeks permission into her mouth. She grants it to him happily, a small whimper escaping her throat when he squeezes her side and shifts her onto her back.

She likes kissing Richter, a lot. But she likes the pressure of his body weight on top of her even more. Her legs come up, thighs encasing him tightly and her ankles hooking together at the small of his back.

He grunts in surprise, breaking their kiss to stare down her with wide eyes and a new blush on his cheeks.

Distantly, Edouard’s angelic voice echoes off the walls of the small cabin. She sets a reminder on her mental day to day list to do something nice for her friend in the coming days.

“Annette.”

His breath fans across her face, reminding her how close they are. She smiles up at him, twisting her fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck.

“Yes Richter?”

His lips twitch up when she says his name, a blush blossoming across his collarbone and neck; but he’s serious when he asks.

“You’re sure about this?” And then after a moment’s hesitation, “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

She has.

Once.

Back when she’d been enslaved. She’d done it because she’d been curious to know what all the fuss was about and why her friends would risk punishment to for it. Not to mention it was one less thing she’d have to worry about being taken from her.

At the time, it hadn’t been impressive enough for her to put effort into making it happen again. Escaping, revenge and vampire hunting took up too much of her time to worry about shared kisses and affection between bodies.

“Annette?”

She blinks back into focus, meeting Richter’s gaze which has become concerned.

“I have once,” she says with a soft nod. “When I was enslaved.”

Richter frowns and shifts most of his weight to his left hand, the right one cupping her face. His thumb strokes her cheek, the rough pad somehow soothing to her. His skin still feels too warm, but she knows if she brings it up he’ll just insist he’s fine so she leaves it for now.

“That…..wasn’t against your will was it?” Richter asks.

“No!” Annette exclaims, wanting to quell any rising qualms Richter might be having that he could, by proximity, be doing something she doesn’t like or want.

Her hands leave his hair in favor of his shoulders, the muscles are thick underneath her palms and Annette bites back a moan of appreciation.

“It wasn’t by force,” She says firmly looking up onto his blazing blue eyes. “I was lucky. It was with a boy I worked in the fields with, I wanted to get it out of the way so my first time wouldn’t be taken from me.”

Richter’s brow un-furrows a bit, he lowers down enough to kiss her again. This one soft and sweet.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs against her lips.

Annette smiles, kissing him harder and squeezing his hips with her thighs.

“Do not ruin the mood, Belmont.” She teases, satisfied when he laughs and doesn’t press farther about what things had been like for her before they’d met.

“Yes ma’am.” He grins and uses the hand holding her face to tilt her head back, exposing her neck to him.

His lips on her sensitive skin are like heaven, the sharp spike of his teeth nipping after every kiss makes Annette’s hips rock.

She runs a hand down his right arm, to join the one still holding her face. Slowly and purposefully Annette drags the large palm to her shoulder then collarbone, arching her back and sighing when he finally, finally, cups her breast through her top.

Richter squeezes, whether out of instinct or shock that he’s actually touching her Annette can’t be sure but she’s barely able to muffle the shout that tumbles from her mouth. She can feel him smirk against her neck, clearly pleased with the sounds he’s drawing from her.

Annette doesn’t care, each sharp wave of pleasure his hands are giving her is worth putting up with his growing ego.

“Richter.” She moans.

He crowds her against the bed, hand alternating between her breasts while his mouth suckles a bruise into the column of her neck and his hips ground into hers. Sweat gathers at the small of Annette’s back, her abdominal muscles burning as she holds the arch to keep as much of her body pressed against him as she can.

Her skirt is bunched at her hips, wrinkled between her and the bed from her insistent need to be moving with Richter. Despite the clothing between them, she can feel him growing harder every time they come in contact.

Richter’s nimble fingers pluck at the hem of her top questioningly, prompting Annette to nod and let her arms fall back onto the mattress above her head.

An open invitation.

His smile is practically blinding as he sits up just enough to hold his weight on his knees and place both hands on her waist. She stares at him while his thumbs stroke the smooth plains of her stomach, tilting her head curiously when suddenly a blush appears across his cheeks and chest.

“What are you thinking about?” She asks softly.

“How good I’m going to make you feel.” He rumbles, voice serious and low as he flexed his fingers, the tips digging slightly into her ribs.

Before she can think of a witty reply Richter slides his hands up, catching her top on the way and pushing it up over her head. He tugs it free of her arms, dropping the fabric to the floor; the soft thump of it hitting the ground is lost on Annette who can only focus on the sudden intensity of Richter’s gaze.

Heat burns at her cheeks and twists in her lower belly. She’s never been looked at like this before, the lustful adoration in his eyes makes her head spin.

“C-Can I touch you, Annette?”

She huffs, amused by him trying to remain respectful despite her bare breasts being on display and his hard dick straining his pants between her legs.

He’s adorable, but Annette needs more. She’s starting to crave it.

“I hope that’s the plan.” She snickers, hands finding his hair again. Scratching his scalp, she bites her lip. “Otherwise I’ve terribly misread the whole situation.”

Richter rolls his eyes, letting her pull him down into another kiss. His teeth meet her bottom lip and he nips at it playfully; two fingers finding one of her dark pebbled nipples and pinching.

Her eyes flutter shut, a breathless “yes!” racing from her mouth as she tugs on his hair.

It’s all the encouragement Richter needs.

Suddenly his hands are everywhere; kneading her beasts fully, gripping her chin to keep bring her in for sloppy kisses, squeezing her hips and petting her thighs. He bites at her neck, flicks his tongue along her collarbone, working his way down until he can suckle at her tawny brown nipples; lavishing them both with his tongue.

The sensation leaves Annette writhing and panting, she wants to wiggle away from the unrelenting pleasure but she also never wants Richter to stop what he’s doing.

He laps at the skin between her breasts, slicking it to the point it shines in the moonlight illuminating their cabin. At her hips, one of his hands pulls on the waistband of her skirt and Annette immediately lifts up to help him get the garment away from her body.

The oceanic breeze of the night air tickles her exposed flesh, cooling a bit of the humid haze she’d been drifting in. Annette blinks her eyes open, looking down to find Richter’s already staring at her; his pupils blown wide and near black with only a slim blue outer ring around his irises.

She traces his jaw line with her fingers, feeling his teeth clench together with restraint.

He looks hungry.

For nourishment she’s certain only she can provide.

Annette bites her lip hard at the thought, her legs falling open a bit to give him more room. They hold each other’s gaze while his fingers dance at her hip, dragging along the creased apex of her thigh.

He pauses, just before his searching fingers can make contact with the place she wants him most. She thinks he’s about to ask her if she’s okay or if he’s allowed to touch her but the Belmont boy surprises her once again. He simply grins at her, kisses her sternum and slips a finger between her soaking folds.

Annette chokes out a moan, her chest heaving as she sucks in a hard breath and her heels dig into the small of Richter’s back. She’s already embarrassingly wet, his long finger stroking from the bundle of nerves at the top down to her aching core over and over until she’s thrashing against him.

“R-Richter—please!”

She’s too far gone to care that she’s whining nor does she care that above her the object of her obvious distress only chuckles and presses a kiss to her clammy forehead.

“Please what?” He asks, watching her face intently. “Tell me what you want, Annette.”

This time her whine is unintelligible, a garbled mess of pleading that she can’t control. But it’s enough for him to grant her reprieve, the tip of his finger taps her opening—once—twice—and then he pushes the obscenely long digit inside of her and Annette shouts.

Her head falls back onto the mattress, her nails scratching at his sides and she tightens around him, already needing more. Richter growls, his finger stroking with the pace of her rocking hips,

“You’re sucking me right in, baby.” He whispers to her, a secret between them that is theirs only.

She whimpers, the sharpest spike of pleasure yet streaks down her spine and settles in her hips. No one has ever called her that before, there’s never been anyone she wanted to think they could have the privilege.

Though Richter is not like anyone else she’s ever met.

He pushes a second finger into her, a much tighter fit but an even better feeling. Annette grinds her hips into his hand without shame, shivering each time the heel of his palm bumps her slippery clit.

Impatience edges into Annette’s mind, her hands reaching down and pushes at the sleep pants he’d just changed into.

“Ta-Take these off,” she whimpers, one hand managing to shove the left side of his pants down his narrow hips.

Richter huffs out a laugh, slowly pulling his fingers from her and sitting up onto his knees. The movement forces her legs to fall open on either side of him, leaving her feeling exposed in a whole new way. Annette’s face burns and instinctively she tries to draw her knees together.

“Well now, that won’t do.” Richter says casually as he shoves his pants down his thighs before kicking them off onto the floor.

He hooks a hand under the crook of her left knee and tugs it out to the side, opening her back up to him.

“You’re beautiful, Annette.” He says sincerely, licking his lips as he settles back between her thighs. “Don’t ever hide from me.”

This time without his pants to keep him trapped against his own leg, his dick is hot and heavy dragging against her inner thigh. Annette slips one hand between them, her slender fingers wrapping around his shaft experimentally.

It’s Richter’s turn to shout, hips jerking when her thumb swipes at the pre cum leaking from his tip and smears it all over the head. Stroking him and twisting her hand at the same time, Annette works him until he’s painfully hard and throbbing in her hand.

She lifts her hips, hoping to guide him to the place she needs him to fill.

“Annette, baby, wait—.”

She smirks up at him, though her hand does go still.

“You have done this before right?” She teases, chuckling at the affronted look he gives her.

“I’m a Belmont, of course I have.” He grins for a moment then says a bit breathlessly. “It’s just never been with someone I cared this much about.”

One of his hands grips her side, the thumb stretching out to her belly button.

“I want this to be good for you, you deserve to feel good.” He tilts his head, eyes looking her entire body over. “You’re so small, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Annette isn’t expecting him to be that honest, especially not now when they’re moments away from their first becoming one. Another emotion spreads through her, not lust and not impatience but a new one that she’s not sure she’s ever felt before.

It’s in this moment that Annette realizes, she loves him.

She loved Richter Belmont, so much that her soul feels ablaze. She wants to scream from the bow of the ship up to the heavens that she has finally fallen in love. And it feels exactly the way her mother told her it would.

Safe.

Exciting.

Like home.

He is her home and she never wants to leave or be without him.

“Richter.” Her voice is soft and lightly. “I know you’d never hurt me, I trust you.”

She releases the grip she has on his, from what she can see, very pretty dick and plants that hand on his chest while the other cards through his soft hair.

“I want to do this with you, I want to feel good with you.” She says firmly. “Do you want to feel good with me?”

Richter nods, desperation filling the lines of his face as he kisses her cheeks, her nose, her chin and then finally slanted his lips over hers.

This kiss is different. His lips devour hers, nipping at her bottom one in a way that twists her hips and curls her toes. The passion he’s pouring into her feels different, it’s a promise, a dedication. To her. To them. To whatever they’re about to build together.

When Richter breaks for air, Annette lets her eyes flutter open and sucks in a sharp breath at the look of pure adoration in his eyes. If she didn’t know better, she would think she created the moon, the stars and the sky.

“I only want you,” he whispers into her mouth, lips tickling hers with the movement of each word. “In this life and the next and the one after. I want to be with you forever Annette.”

She smiles, “Good, because I really need you inside of me right now.”

Richter nods, kissing her again and adjusting their bodies so he can reach down between them. Supporting most of his weight on his forearm near Annette’s head, his fingers glide through her slick for a moment, collecting some of it to spread around the fat mushroom head before he takes hold of himself and lines the tip up, nestling it at her sopping wet opening.

Annette’s eyes slam shut and she pulls back to choke out a moan at the feeling just the tip has ignited inside of her. Above her, Richter stills and she thinks she might sob if he starts to move away.

Her hands fly up to the space where his shoulders and neck meet, the column thick between her hands.

“No Richter, don’t stop.” She wiggles her hips in an attempt to take him deeper, but his hand comes to rest over her lower stomach; effectively holding her in place with ease.

“Annette,” his breathing is labored, her name sounding rough in his throat. “Open your eyes.”

Above her head, his fingers twirl some of her individual locs and stroke at her scalp; Annette can’t help but to push her head up into his touch as she blinks up at him.

She’s never seen Richter look at anyone or anything the way he’s staring down at her now. His sapphire eyes are burning into her very soul, she is the sun and he is ready to pray to her for the rest of his life.

Annette licks her lips, pleased that his eyes tick down and follow the movement of her tongue, then says.

“If you stop now, Belmont, I will never forgive you.”

He laughs breathlessly, nodding. “I wouldn’t forgive me if I stopped right now either.” His finger tips massage her scalp, finding space in the new growth to really put pressure down and ground her.

Annette keens up into the feeling, a pretty groan of appreciation on her tongue.

His hand holding her still at the hips smoothes back around to the outer side of her thigh, gripping the flesh. Richter ducks his head, kissing her and holding her gaze as he murmurs into her mouth,

“Take a deep breath, baby.”

She does as he says without a second thought, gulping for air that he’s breathing into her. Richter smiles, rocking his hips forward and in the same motion, tugs her down onto his shaft slowly.

The feeling is delicious.

The stretch of his dick sliding into her cunt is exquisite, curling her toes and exploding stars in her vision. She’s barely aware of how her nails take down his neck and over his chest, leaving trails of red lines on his pale skin.

“R-Richter.”

He groans in response, his eyes closed and the tip of his tongue pressing into his top lip in concentration. Annette’s sure he’s never looked more beautiful than he does now. She clenches around him when he finally bottoms out, his hips meeting the back of her thighs.

“Fu—Fuck.”

Richter’s thrust start out tentative, his hips rolling experimentally and Annette finds herself lifting her own hips to meet him. Her arms wrap around his neck, holding him down so their chests are pressed together tightly. She rests her cheek against his and Annette darts her tongue out to lick at his ear.

“Please go faster, Richter.” She whines, digging her heels into his ass. “Please!”

Now confident, his hips pick up speed and the hand on her meaty thigh squeezes even tighter. Annette’s spine tingles at the thought of there being finger shaped bruises under her clothing tomorrow.

She clings to Richter as if he is her only life force, right now it feels like he is. The steady drag and pull of him inside her threatens to drive her insane, but Annette is happy to go there if it means keeping this feeling with him alive.

Richter sits back suddenly, onto his knees and the hand that was buried in her hair finds new purchase on her unattended thigh. He holds her open, his thrusts deep, hard and powerful; jerking her body back and forth along the bed.

“Annette,” he growls out, grunting in effort to not lose his rhythm. “You feel, so—so fucking good, squeezing me so tight.”

She nearly arched completely off the bed, his words stroking a very specific part of her brain. Digging her nails into the well carved muscles of his stomach, Annette closes her eyes and loses herself in the sensations.

“Richter!” She pants, eyes rolling in her head. “Don’t stop, please!”

“I won’t, baby.” He promises. “I’ll never stop.”

One hand leaves her thigh, his thumb finding her now puffy clit and strums it with intent, his hips keeping pace as he pounds into Annette.

She chants his name like a pray, one for every time his cock rams so deep inside of her she would swear she could feel him in her stomach. There’s a coil there, curling tighter towards her spine and Annette clamps around Richter in the hopes he can tap the right button that’ll give her what she wants.

He twists his hips down on the next few thrusts and Annette bites into his neck to muffle her scream as she explodes. She goes momentarily deaf, her body and cunt spasming while Richter works her through the life changing pleasure thats rippling through her entire body.

Every muscle she has is taunt and for a split moment Annette thinks his thrusts are going to snap her in half. And she would welcome that sensation with open arms.

Richter’s lips on hers brings her hearing back, the bed beneath them creaks steadily and their skin clapping together bounces off the walls. He licks inside of her mouth, his breath hot and ragged as he chases after the completion she just reached.

Annette holds him tighter, whimpering and mewling at a pitch she knows will root in his brain. Richter moans, losing the rhythm and his thrusts becoming erratic.

“Richter—“

He nudges her head to the side, sweat from his brow smearing against her temple.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, baby.” He hisses, teeth clenched and his jaw strained, “I love you, Annette, I love you.”

Their hips meet hard three more times, the force jarring hiccup like moans out of her throat but Annette only care about riding out the spikes of unmeasurable pleasure that zip up and down her body.

Richter shudders above her, a roar erupting from his throat as he grinds into her with every last bit of strength he has. Annette whimpers, her face heating at the feeling of Richter’s cum flooding her with warm from the inside.

She watched him with half lidded eyes and massaging at the bite mark shes left in his skin. He slowly lowers down to rest on his elbows and hover over her, his blue eyes blinking open to look hazily down at her.

“A-Are you o-okay?” He asks panting.

She nods, offering him a smile as they both let their chests heave together;

“I’m great.” Annette confirms, lifting her head and kissing him sweetly. “Are you?”

Richter laughs, his eyes scanning her face a few times. “I think I had just had the best sex of my life.”

She bites her lip to keep her laughter contained. “Thats high praise indeed coming from you, Belmont.”

“It is, isn’t it?” He teases, kissing her cheek before he gently tilts her head by her chin and connects their lips again.

They only pull apart when Richter’s weight begins to numb Annette’s hips and torso, both of them shivering when he shuffles back and slips out of her completely.

Using the edge of the blanket hanging off the bed, Richter gently wipes away the mess he’s made between her thighs; the movement gently and caring.

They settle in the bed facing each other. The steady rock of the ocean and the waves crashing together lulls the two lovers into a comfortable silence.

Her fingers thread together at the nape of his neck, arms bent so he’s pulled close. His massive hands holding her waist, the weight of them on her more comforting to Annette than she ever thought possible.

Richter kisses her, exhaustion starting to sag his body into the mattress but his eyes remain open. She strokes his head with her thumbs, smiling at him when it’s clear he intends to fall asleep staring at her.

“So,” she whispers, seconds before they drifts off completely. “You love me, do you?”

His lips twitch up into a smile. Squeezing her sides, he nods sleepily. “Wasn’t it obvious?” He mumbles, kissing the tip of her nose. “I’m all yours.”

The End

🫣 hope y’all liked it, pls like and reblog if you did ❤️

[femlesbianbarbie]

Pairing: Cowboy!Abby Anderson X Femme Reader

Summary: This follows the plot of their wayward bride by Vanessa Vale. Basically, you run away from an arranged marriage. in the process of running away you get lost in a blizzard and Abby saves you

Please comment if you like otherwise I probs won't write another chapter. If I do post another it will be longer this one's short because I didn't want to put a ton of effort in for it to just flop.

Chapter one: Runaway bride

You had spent your entire life at a boarding school. Your mother died in childbirth and when your father remarried his wife refused to have you in her home. Your father's solution was to send you away and never bring you home not even for holidays.

The thing you got most was a dumb letter telling you that he loved you. When he sent for you shortly after your birthday you were ecstatic maybe his wife had finally changed her mind. But instead of being met with a happy family, you were met with a middle-aged balding man at the altar waiting for you. Of course, you should have never assumed your father would be better than this. Every girl you went to school with has already been married your father tells you you should be grateful I made this match for you he tells you.

He tells you this as if you should be grateful he has sold you off to a man twice your age at least. Who looks as if he murdered his last wife in cold blood. This is how you ended up riding a stolen horse in the middle of a blizzard. It's really not your best move but you can’t exactly stay and there is still a chance you can make it to the next town over. Hopefully, someone there will help you.  Not that you really know where that town is anymore. You were on track but with the wind whipping the snow around you your visions became nearly non-existent. The horse's vision must be limited too because the next thing you know you are lying on the ground the horse whining in pain as your mind fades in and out of consciousness.

✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ 

“Are you okay? Can you hear me” Someone says above you their face blocked out by the snow. You try to speak but can’t seem to open you move instead letting out a soft whine. “It's going to be okay I am taking you inside. Im going to pick you up now” And true to their ward you are held against a strong chest as they carry you away. The strong scent of pine fills your nose and you try to cuddle closer and steal some of their Warmth. “It's okay we are almost home then you'll be warm,” they promise.

 “You smell good” you mumble into their jacket. You startle as they chuckle a deep sound that reverberates through their chest. “Thank you” You let out a happy sound as they open the door light flooding your vision and an abrupt temperature straddling your body. “Here the fires going in the den. They carry you into the den and lay you on the floor in front of the fireplace. Their fingers begin to unbutton your dress with a practiced ease. “ I can’t I've never “ You start the words not quite making sentences. “It's okay your clothes are soaked you'll never warm up with them on.” They explain as you finally get a look at them. Long blonde hair and a strong nose are all you can make out through tired eyes. Once you undressed she wraps you in a blanket and holds you to her chest your back to the fire. “Where am I “You ask your nose burrowed into there next. “Bridgewater ranch my friends and I live here I heard your horse and came looking thinking it was one of ours. I came looking but I found you instead not that I am complaining princess.” you cuddle in exhaustion overtaking your body. “Im safe here” You question your voice heavy with sleep. “I'll keep you safe rest now”.

[delulustateofmind]

hello, I'm currently going insane over the last part of "can my friend join". And i read your replies to asks related to that. And I'm going to ask something so crazy but I think it'd be soooo interesting, and something to ponder abt (for me at least)

Tw. Narcotics?

Say the reader gets their hands on edibles or something. Maybe weed to smoke or as brownies (because we know Suguru smokes/at least carries lighters. Maybe for this hypothetical scenario, let's assume he has it and that's how she got it). One of the effects can be that it makes you laugh uncontrollably about things that aren't THAT funny. And in general puts one in better mood.

Let's say satosugu see reader laughing her heart out at something random n silly and find out it's because she accidentally somehow consumed an edible.

(For the sake of this scenario, again, let's assume that the depression meds or some medical complications after so many pregnancies lead to reader being rendered infertile. So no question about any baby being harmed. )

In that case... how do they feel? Do they want her bubbly-ness back? Or are they now indifferent? Or do they hate her smiles and the sound of her laughter?

Will Suguru try to forcefully take away the edibles, (after a few times) if satoru is against the idea, coz satoru likes how you seem to have a bit of personality outside of being a cardboard cutout of the person you used to be? Will SATORU too put his foot down on letting you choose if or not you want to have access to these?

I am sorry in case i inadvertently offended you with this ask. I genuinely found it hilarious, imagining their confusion at first. It would be interesting to read about a scene where satoru and Suguru maybe cannot come to an agreement about a situation. And both are stubborn/ want control.

I understand if you won't want to answer this one, and i apologise in case you don't like stuff like this. I genuinely do not mean to make you uncomfortable.

Thank you for reading!

Anon, baby, it takes a whole lot to offend me. You're so freaking sweet, mwah.

TW: Narcotics, unedited, implied dubcon/noncon

I think I hinted at this in one of the previous asks, but yes, they definitely use narcotics. It’s kind of like a date night situation, because normally, you’re so numb. But when you’re high on that sweet little pill they give you? Oh my, you’re back to being the sweetest little thing.

Sure, you might be a little spaced out, and sure, you might not fully understand what’s going on. But Satoru loves the giggly mess you become. You let him hold you, nuzzle into you, and for once, you don’t resist. The sex is incredible for them because you actually seem like you’re enjoying it. You’re softer, more pliable, and sometimes, you even blurt out that you love them during it.

Those moments—hearing you say “I love you”—fuel both Satoru and Suguru’s belief that there’s still an ounce of the old you left inside. As much as they’d want to keep you drugged and loveable forever, Suguru worries about the long-term effects on your brain. So, he insists on keeping it as a weekly date night ritual.

On those nights, they send the kids out of the estate and have an absolute field day with you, indulging in every ounce of affection and compliance you offer under the influence of their little solution.

[staylovesmiley]

So this is kind of built off someone’s previous ask but kind of angstier I guess

But thoughts on poly skz x reader who are away on tour. And as much as they love the reader and will miss her they still have each other so they have someone to love and hold every night , they still getting laid all the damn time. But she’s just at home all sad and lonely cause all her 8 boyfriends are gone but she doesn’t want to be a bother cause she knows they are busy on tour

Angst is my specialty hehe~

Poor reader would feel so lonely without her boyfriends (as someone who’s is somewhat long distance with my own partner??? I mean like- a little over an hour but still lol) the boys would also be gutted to not have her there but like you said…they aren’t exactly lonely-

They would try begging her to join them on tour but as usual they got a “I can’t- you know I have work too or else I would.” Or something of the sort in response and it would SUCK telling them no even when they offer to pay for your ticket to come see them but ugh being an adult means having responsibilities unfortunately…

They would send you videos and pictures and try and keep you updated on their lives on tour so you don’t feel left out but it only makes you feel that much lonelier. But you signed up for this, you knew their careers would mean you would have to be apart from them sometimes while they got to be together…I feel like after a while, when your replies to them started to become short with the pressure of pretending that everything is okay and tbh I feel like Minho would clock that shit first. Immediately he is calling you out asking what is wrong and you would try and hide it as till until he starts blowing up your phone with calls until you finally answer and hearing his voice sound so concerned would be the tipping point and you are crying and confessing how lonely you’ve been feeling to him in seconds.

After calming you down and talking through it he convinces you to say something to the others so you have a group call where you all talk about your feelings and how the distance has been so hard- and you feel better afterwards and life goes on as it had been, counting down the days until they get back to you….until Seungmin shows up at your work place with flowers and you are so shocked you think you might be hallucinating and he admits that he may have impulsively bought a plane ticket while you were all on a call that night and wanted to surprise you~ it’s only for a few days since he still has tour to go back to but instead of spending his free days in between stops in whatever city they were in last he decided to fly back to spend as much time as he could with his beautiful girlfriend who he missed so so much and for the rest of the tour, a few of your other boyfriends decide to do the same thing and you feel much less lonely than you did before~

I know it was meant to be angsty but I’ve been in a fluffy comfort mood lately- been super stressed with work and could use comfort hehe

[velvetvexations]

I wasn’t totally fine with it, I thought it was weird but trusted her enough to think she had her own reasons.

Such a brave stance against transphobia. If someone misgenders trans women you're going to be understanding if I continue to say I respect them and reblog their based transfymynysm? If someone was he/himming you and I said I trusted them to have a good reason for it, and continued to pal around with them, that's fine, yeah?

Also what’s with all this hostility? I thought we had a positive interaction a bit ago and were like at least a little cool with each other now?

Were we? When I had you blocked you continued to go through my blog complaining about my takes and getting worked up about how everything I do vexates you. Our last conversation was me getting you to correct [name withheld] because it apparently got confused on something you told it and to your credit you did that and [name withheld] did delete the post. Funny as it is I think [name withheld] actually has surprisingly consistent morals as far as yall go. The bar is truly underwater, but relatively speaking, you know.

My point is, I feel like you've been consistently polite in DMs even to the point of expressing sympathy when I got really worked up and anxious, but then immediately go and trash me in really petty ways, and continue to go along with accusations of me believing things I manifestly do not believe. You yourself made a post about how I "call trans women groomers" because I think a niche on a dying social media website is unhealthy for them and could lead to them being abused like the last group that tried to reclaim 'baeddel.'

And, I mean, really, the audacity to go all "I thought we were on better terms now? :(" after you reblogged Talia having a meltdown over a post from months ago where I very briefly mentioned practicing Hinduism and she went on a rant about how Hinduism needs to be done away with because it's an inherently evil religion. (see here before anyone tries to say that's not what she was saying)

But beyond that, you believe and support really horrible things about other, so I'm not sure why you're expecting us to be super cordial. I am, right now, being a lot nicer to you than a lot of my engagements with people in your camp. Like you're good and cool with a woman who misgenders trans men and tells people to send them harassing messages to "demoralize" them, that alone is pretty bad, let alone all the lateral aggression you prop up.

I don't know why I'm getting so defensive about this. Be a kinder person if you don't want me to be "hostile" lol? I'm not calling you a moron, for the sheer size of the gulf between us I think that's relatively polite discourse by my standards. If you want to sincerely be my friend be a kinder person. I'll invite you to D&D games.

Seriously, Flen. I told you in DMs I was going to leave you unblocked again to hold a door open if you ever want to get out of this bullshit and be a kinder, better transfeminist. I would love nothing more for us to be pals, genuinely. I've literally helped a TERF deradicalize and retransition with this approach.

But you're going to have to stop calling people dehumanizing slurs like "th**fab" and maybe consider misgendering something worth taking a firm stance on even when it's not trans women.

This stuff is also barely related to what I asked. That being, what are TRFs (supposedly me) saying about bi and pan people?

I don't know, I said I didn't know in the OP, that's why I was only responding to the tags. Which is to say that yeah, maybe you never had problems when you identified as aro yourself, but you were totally behind a woman going "all the transandrobros are the same people who were pro-ace during the ace discourse" just recently, a spinelessness that fits considering how quick you were to fold on your objection to Thicc misgendering people.

Imagine my shock (actually not shock at all) when I found out that trans radfems are also exclusionists towards ace/aro people and bi/pan people

lmao the fuck are they saying about bi/pan people

[deputyrook]

it’s starting to feel like

[bpdbunnyy4ngel]

.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Danny the Guy Who Won't Die

He lives in Gotham, and he is just A Guy. Nothing weird about him, he's just there to study/work/help Lady Gotham to lift her curse/on vacation with Sam. Point is, he is not there to cause trouble and there's no GIW on his tail. Just a dude living his (after)life.

And Gotham, being Gotham, still finds a way to be annoying. There are mugging attempts, robbery, Rogues running around. Only Danny really doesn't want to deal with any of it.

Now there's a dilemma. If he uses his powers to fight, it will sooner or later come to Bats' attention. And if he fights as a human, it will also alert some of the Bats since he doesn't really do a great job at keeping his power levels low. Not to mention the fact he is really not enthusiastic about accidentally punching someone hard enough he sends them to a hospital.

What does he do instead? He pulls the 'I guess I'll die' act.

So every time he is attacked, he just plays dead. The mugger shot him in the chest? He falls down and stops breathing. Caught up in the middle of a Poison Ivy attack? Skewers himself on the vine and goes lax. Scarecrow's Fear Gas? Very dramatically chokes himself and plays a corpse. He makes sure to disappear before any ambulances arrive later, and it all goes well for a few months - he is just a casualty, who cares, really - until one day, he runs into that same mugger who shot him in the chest a while ago.

The man does a double take. Danny doesn't notice - he's been mugged so many times, who has the brain capacity to remember all of those fuckers. But the rumor goes out anyway.

A guy-who-won't-die. It's more of a city legend, really, and the Bats don't give it much thought since, well, it sounds stupid and not very important. A rumor of some man who was shot dead and then showed up like nothing happened? Yeah, it's probably because the mugger didn't check if he was actually dead. That happens. Maybe it wasn't even the same man, Gotham is a big city. If anything, hey, at least that was one less casualty? That's a good thing.

That is, until one day, they show up to Joker's hostage situation and witness the clown screaming at one of the hostages. He is so enraged he is shaking, spit flying out of his mouth, and, contrary to the usual Joker's evil sneers and maniacal laughter, he seems just... furious. But, like, the normal-human-level furious. The 'I just lost the last ounce of patience with you' furious.

"Don't you look away from me, you think I don't remember you?! Na-ah, I do. You were the one I drowned in the shark tank last week! And you were the one run through the chainsaw trap two weeks before that! And you were in the guillotine!!! I saw your fucking head get deattached from your body, how the fuck are you here again?!"

And the guy he is screaming at just looks at him, confused and incomprehensive.

"Um, I'm pretty sure I'd remember getting my head cut off, you know? So, err, wrong guy."

"Wrong guy my fucking ass-"

Joker is so distracted by his screaming match that it makes it almost too easy for the Bats to fight him down and drag to Arkham. Yet, a few of them get just a bit suspicious.

Now, imagine all the shenanigans when they try keeping a watch on Danny the Won't Die Guy.

[deathbxnny]

Arcane characters when someone flirts with you. | Viktor, Jayce, Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx, Sevika x Gn!Reader

I am the brain rot. The brain rot is me.✨️

Content: pre season 2 Viktor/Jayce!, Jealousy, pitfighter Vi, established romantic relationships, angst, threats of violence/death threats, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》VIKTOR

He always struggled with self-esteem issues, mainly due to his sickness and disability that made it difficult for him to do much. A part of him forever will believe that you could easily do better than him, yet that doesn't stop him from getting terribly jealous anytime someone gets too friendly with you. Especially when they can see him standing next to you clearly being your partner as well.

But despite his insecurities, he doesn't allow anyone to harass you either on his watch. He lets you defend yourself for the most part until he has enough and lets his more sassy side handle the flirtatious person for you. He may not be able to do anything in a physical way, something he very much would rather avoid. But his tongue is sharp, and it takes little to make them quickly scurry away with a nervous apology for the disturbance.

He'll never admit to being jealous, however, and denies any teasing accusations you send his way. But he'll secretly ask for reassurance as he starts feeling embarrassed over his insecurities rather quickly after. A couple of hugs and kisses from your side will fix that right up, though.

》JAYCE

He has a reputation to keep up. And so, technically, he should always handle things professionally no matter what. People are watching him after all, and his public image can not be tarnished under any circumstance... or so he says. Things change in his mind when they are about you. In general, people know who you are and who you belong to since he rarely shuts up about it.

But every now and then, someone who is somehow unfamiliar with this concept will come up to you and attempt to woo you right in front of his very eyes. Now, Jayce tries to let you handle yourself, but doesn't hesitate to step in either if the person doesn't get the hint. His rather intimidating frame and position as a councilor help him out Immensely with this. He chases them away with a tight smile and a kiss to your head, as he casually asks how he can oh so graciously help them.

Once they leave, he'll pretend not to hear you, of you teasingly asking him if he was jealous. Him? Jealous? Hah! Impossible... okay, maybe a little. But don't tell anyone that.

》VI

As a pitfighter, Vi doesn't hesitate to get violent with anyone who comes close to the only good thing she has left in her life, which happens to be you. She's extremely protective and makes sure everyone gets the hint regarding who you belong to. But alas, there are always the couple strays that refuse to comprehend that fact and therefore attempt to "steal" you away from her. Something that never ends well for anyone.

Her temper is shorter than it used to be, and that becomes quite clear when she's quick to loom over the person that was pestering you. She knows that you can handle yourself just fine, too. But that doesn't stop her from grabbing their shoulder and asking them if she can help them out instead. Or maybe they want to talk it out in the pit? All the same to her, but the message is clear. She'll win if it comes to you every time, and that's enough to make the person scurry away in terror.

You'll definitely have to calm her down and reassure that you had everything handled. She's just looking out for you, though, and doesn't want you to get hurt, too, like everyone else in her life. The last thing she wants is to mess up again, so her overprotective tendencies will probably never lessen. Not that you kind anyways.

》CAITLYN

Your role as her partner is crystal clear to absolutely everyone in Piltover, especially after she takes over the troops as their new ruler. She's much more cutthroat and cold than she used to be before her mothers death, which made her extremely overprotective of you and your safety. She may even be suffocating at times with her security measures, but she finds it absolutely necessary. This also means, however, that those who try becoming a bit too friendly with you are always at risk of facing her wrath.

She doesn't hold back with her dismay and is quick to stand before you with a dark, stern glare directed at whoever was flirting with you beforehand. Caitlyn doesn't care if you can take care of yourself or not either. She'll take full advantage of her new position and power too, not hesitating to give the person that was pestering you a professionally worded threat that leaves them as pale as a ghost.

Admittedly, it's hard to tell if she's jealous or just worried in her own way. Before her mother's death, it may very well just be her being a bit jealous... but with her current position, she may also just be afraid to lose you too deep down. And she couldn't handle that.

》JINX

After Silco's death, Jinx's temper is milder than before due to her deteriorating mental health (if there was anything left of it to begin with). She's a lot calmer when handling situations and seeming more calculated than before, but that certainly doesn't quell the extreme abandonment issues in her at any rate. If anything, they've become much worse than before. This means that she'll cling to you and snap at anyone who nears you. No one is allowed to steal your attention away from her. No one can take you away from her. She just won't allow it when you're all she has left.

And so, she won't hesitate to use her gun on anyone who is pestering you. A death threat or two usually gets the point across anyway. Jinx will also let you handle yourself first, however though, knowing you can easily do that. But if things do get out of hand, she will step right to scare them away at best. She'd never kill anyone infront of you after all. She doesn't want to scare you away.

You'll have to reassure her of your loyalty a lot afterward, however, as her insecurities and issues can make her spiral fairly easily. Giving her a lot of attention and love makes everything go away, though, luckily.

》SEVIKA

She's very secure in your relationship and trusts you perfectly fine, which is why she rarely ever gets jealous. Why should she, anyway, when you'll always come back to her at the end of the day? Besides, people in the lanes know who you are and who you belong to, and most importantly, what will happen to their faces once she bashes them in if they ever harass you too much.

With that said, though, she typically lets you do your own thing and chase the person away yourself first before bothering to step in. If things get out of hand, then she'll suddenly be right behind you and tower over whoever it is that's not getting the hint. Blowing smoke right into their faces, she'll ask them if they have a problem, and if yes, then they should take it up with her outside. Although everyone knows she's the only one back afterwards. This usually does the trick.

Don't expect her to ever say that she is jealous, though, and hopes you know better, too. She knows you're loyal, as she certainly is for life and therefore doesn't worry about a thing regarding the strength of your relationship.

No one is better than her anyway.

[ghostedbunnie]

trouble comes in fours

tf141 x fem!reader reader wants to get rid of her ex and tf141 might have the perfect scare factor

imagine that your ex simply can't take a hint and keeps creeping on your social media so in a desperate attempt to get rid of him the only way you know is gonna work is to scare him off with a new guy. someone he can't even think off challenging.

on a night out with your friends you are venting out your frustrations about it. while you are in the middle of retelling the last time he tried to slide into your DMs the door to the bar open and you can feel the air shift.

the group of 4 guys walk in. most of them have to duck their heads through the doorway. when they settle into a quieter corner that seems to have a great vantage point to overlook the entirety of the bar your friend nudges you. "looks like 4 possible solutions to your problem just walked in."

your eyes go wide and you sputter out that there is no way. the thought of sending a drink to any of them is almost as terrifying as shoving your head into a tank full of piranhas.

the night continues and with every drink, your fear gives into curiousity. what's the worst thing they could do? bring it back? you can just leave before that happens. the alcohol and your friends chip away at you for few minutes before you gather up the courage. you honestly don't even know which one of them you're sending the drink to.

there's a loud pretty boy with a slightly overgrown mohawk wildly gesturing and retelling some story from the looks of it. when the dim light catch his eyes just right they almost glint silver.

another one but great deal calmer sits opposite, he has a killer smile with slight dimples. just the sight of those dimples could make panties drop.

next to him is a possibly older guy around 40s you'd wager, you can't see his face clearly because half of it is hidden underneath a hat and the other under a very impressive beard. but even from the little you can see the rug burn from that beard would definitely be worth it. simply based on the commanding air around him.

in the corner next to the loud-mouth sits a shadow. honestly in your slight drunk daze you almost missed him in his dark hoodie, pants and face mask. you don't see him drink but the drink in front of him does magically disappear anyway. and whenever you turn around from gawking you swear you can feel someone's stare. but as you get the chills you tell yourself it's probably the a/c blaring.

imagine your surprise when the bartender sends 4 drinks to the table and when you look back to asses the situation you have 4 (well 3 as the big boy in the corner doesn't touch the drink but inclines his head at you) miming a clinking motion while sipping on the drinks.

the mortification doesn't end because when your friends abandon you for some more dance time and you turn to get up to the bathroom you walk straight into a hard chest of the pretty boy. he calms your apologies from running into him with a smile. "wanted ta thank you for the drink, bonnie."

heat rushes to your face as you try to somehow talk your way out of this mess because what seemed like a great idea when your head was swimming with 9 drinks is starting to seem a lot worse now that you are slowly sobering up.

"nothing ta worry 'bout. come sit with us. it feels wrong to keep a bonnie lass like yerself all alone."

next up: simon's ver. // others are coming soon

[jjk4isen]

ꗃ 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃, 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 .

❝ answer me. did you think of her when you're in bed with me? when you're kissing me and holding me— was she the one on your mind? ❞

summary: it's hard knowing you aren't really the person in toji's heart but loving him was something you still did regardless. as for toji, he thinks he's ready to give you his all.

desc: 2.8k words, f!reader (referred to as ‘mama’), canon compliant i think, takes place after mamaguro's death and before toji’s, age gap (early 20s reader, early 30s toji), baby gumi ahhhhh, sfw, angst to fluff to angst again lol, intended lowercase, think you're tsumiki’s mom but without tsumiki bc the relations would be too complicated and also the second wife erasure in the canon storyline?? yeah it's reserved specifically for this fic, not proof read i fear but pls read it's really interesting i can swear by it lmaoqhdhns

dating a widowed man with a son wasn't easy especially when the said man is still in love with his former wife, or rather, his wife who had died.

love is often beautiful but sometimes it's unfair. it can also be cruel. what other reason would make you still stay despite knowing you'll never measure upto the person who had been here before you?

and you've heard stories about her. she was sweet, so beautiful— not just in her appearance but her entire being was beautiful. there always was an ache in your heart upon just the mention of her name.

so how much more would it have ached for toji?

“mama” the spiky haired boy, barely two years old calls you and you realise the silence in the room. “not mama, i’m nana okay?” sick.

nana. not mama but close enough. it doesn't matter anyway, n and m are just letters and next to each other so how much difference would that make? you're the one that's here after all, are you not?

if there's a lump in your throat and your eyes are burning with unshed tears, you force yourself to ignore.

“okay nana” megumi nuzzles his face into your chest, slowly drifting away to sleep. the boy always liked cuddling with you and it melts your heart immensely.

your hands strand through his dark hair. people always said he's the carbon copy of his dad but you'd like to differ. megumi has his mother's eyes and his hair resembled hers more than it did his dad's.

the thought sends another ache in your chest but you push it away– as you always have.

you recall the last time toji had heard megumi call you “mama”. you had never seen toji that livid. he was never a gentle man to begin with but that night, there was nothing else you've been more scared of.

was he like that to his wife? maybe not.

does that matter though? it's not like toji treats you badly. he's decent and loves you an enough amount. you weren't crazy enough to stay when you're not wanted so that must mean you were something to him right?

you also recall the whispers of pity and condemnation thrown at you for just being with toji. him being a brute is one thing but the difference in age is what people seem to have a problem with. you're so much younger than him and have your whole life ahead of you so why are you entrapping yourself this way?

you disagree though. love doesn't know any age and you definitely aren't naive to be head over heels over a guy just because he's relatively older. no, this was real and genuine.

a faint knock disrupts your train of thoughts. “he sleepin’?” toji nods towards the small boy in your arms and you nod back in return.

taking care not to wake the sleeping kid, you slowly pry his hands away from you and pull over a blanket to cover his small body.

when you make your way towards toji, he wastes no time in pulling you closer “missed you” he mumbles, placing a kiss onto your forehead and suddenly all thoughts plaguing your mind disappears. that's all you could ask for, even if it was just for a moment.

“i missed you more” you whisper back, he only huffs out an amused chuckle.

“got bad news though” a frown finds itself on his lips, decorated by a single scar next to it.

“did you lose all your money again?” toji was a gambling addict, another thing you forced yourself to tolerate just for him.

“sorry, doll. thought i’d win this time” he rubs small circles on your back comfortingly and it makes you a bit uneasy to know that he has his way with you so easily.

“it's alright. i’ll just find another part time job”

“so good to me” toji pulls you into his chest and you let out a sigh— of exhaustion? relief? you couldn't really tell but that's not important, toji had you in his arms.

“i’ll try and think of something too. don't worry your pretty little head too much” he lifts you up with ease. while you're in his arms, you feel the safest.

toji really felt bad this time. he was confident he would win but that stupid horse had to trip and lose its lead, ending up last of all places. he knows luck never favoured him but that's didn't stop him from trying again and again and again.

he also knows how you didn't say anything more than necessary about it but he isn't that much of an idiot either. he sees how your expression falters and your shoulders slump a little more when he comes home with another news of his gambling loss.

this is also why he tries, or rather, tried to quit — one too many times, unbeknownst to you. however, old habits die hard and most of the time (everytime) toji gives into his urge and loses yet again. the cycle keeps happening.

maybe this isn't just about gambling.

with the way you're asleep so soundly next to him after putting his son to sleep and taking care of him too, he is overcomed with yet another feeling to be better for you and megumi alike.

toji isn't a gentle man; everyone knows that, you do too — even more than anybody else but he can't help the familiar pool of warm feelings surging through him the longer he stares at your peaceful state.

he remembers the last time he felt it, with another person. it felt like a lifetime ago.

he also remembers how painful it was when he lost it — the person, the feeling altogether. his hands that were making their way to caress your face stops mid air.

toji knows you deserve so much better. you've been nothing but patient to him, so amazing, so perfect to him. still, he just can't do it yet, just not yet.

he will eventually, he hopes you stay until then.

toji wakes up to an empty bed and his heart sinks a little but the creases and wrinkles on the sheets serve as a reminder that you were really here.

he makes his way towards the kitchen, only finding megumi sitting on a chair next to the dining table.

“hey kid, where's your mama?”

toji freezes. it came out so naturally he didn't realise he said it himself and almost thinks he didn't but megumi's wide eyes prove that he actually did.

“m…mama?” megumi says hesitantly and toji nods this time. “yes, your mama”.

“potty potty!” megumi points to the bathroom and giggles, toji follows suit. the man crouches to his son's eye level and pats his head.

“you love your mama, kid?” toji sees megumi's eyes sparkle as the boy nods enthusiastically “very very much!!”

“yeah? i love your mama too.”

toji smiles to himself, he can't wait to tell that to you.

the next time toji got his pay, he finds himself hesitating. instead of heading towards the race tracks, his feet takes him to a jewellery store.

instead of picking out a slot and testing his luck, he picks out a ring. it's not fancy by any means but he thinks it would be the most beautiful band of metal to exist if it slides into your ring finger.

the tiny ring carries all the heavy feelings he has for you.

──

it was one particular evening when you saw an old man lingering by the front gate. its particular because the warm sunset and the soft cool breeze contrasted the ground breaking truth you find out.

“can i help you?” you ask the old man who looks at you up and down, not making an attempt to hide his distaste of your sight.

“is this where toji zenin lives?” he stares down at you with his scrutinising gaze; it makes you feel small.

“zenin?” you ask, confused. is he referring to toji? but his last name is fushiguro is it not?

“yes toji zenin. i heard he has a son as well. you're not the mother are you?”

is it that obvious? you wonder how the old man figured it out. regardless, you're not about to give him his answers so you stood your ground.

“i’m sorry i don't know what you're talking about.” you turn around, about to head inside when his words make you stop short.

“are you fushiguro?”

that's toji’s last name isn't it? not zenin or whatever he called it. so why is he asking you that? is he implying that you're married to toji?

“no. you have the wrong person.”

“why? did he say not to get involved with anyone from his clan?” the old man draws closer, chucking to himself. you're just there unmoving, trying to comprehend the situation and the words coming from his mouth.

“or did he not tell you that either? did he tell you anything at all?” he stands tall in front of you, tearing away bits of yourself with every word he says.

“when he returns, tell him the clan wants to propose him an offer. you can do that much at least won't you?”

…

and when toji comes home that night with the ring cluched tightly in his fist and inside the pocket of his white pants, the world stills.

he finds you in a state he has never seen you before. you look completely and utterly defeated.

“hey, what's wrong?” his hands come to caress your face so effortlessly, the ring and prior nervousness long forgotten.

“talk to me what's going on?” he looks around and the house seems emptier than usual. your laundry that were usually hanging with his were gone.

your small trinkets you placed around the house to “make it more lively” were nowhere to be found.

and there's a bag in the corner of the room which toji prays and hopes he isn't what he thinks it is.

your hands push away his own that were cupping your face. you're not even looking at him.

“say something damn it!”

you flinch and toji takes a step back. he recalls the last time you trembled in fear — when he got mad megumi called you his mom. he punishes himself for it.

“im sorry. please talk to me.” he isn't touching you now but he wants to. he wants to reach out and pull you close, as he always had done. but now there's an unbearable silence and the small distance between you both felt like lightyears away.

“who's zenin” your voice was meek, barely a whisper but toji's eyes widen. how did you find out about that?

no fuck that, he was supposed to be the one telling you. in his own time.

“i can explain” was all that came out of him. he's nervous, he doesn't know where to start. there's a lot of information to unpack and he's not sure how to do it without hurting you too much.

when he doesn't elaborate, you ask another “who's fushiguro then?” your voice falters a bit and toji curses himself for it.

but he's done running away and keeping things from you. “my… my late wife” he says wryly.

your eyes close and a shaky breath leaves your body, as if he just confirmed your worst suspicions. damn life is so funny isn't it? everything you thought you knew apparently wasn't what it seemed to be after all.

opening them again, your vision blurs and you realise tears were escaping your eyes. fuck you didn't want to cry now of all times but they won't stop.

and the way toji was looking at you, it makes you want to throw up.

“i must've been so stupid to you” you let out a humourless chuckle. “did you pretend im her?”

your gaze was sharp and so were your words. maybe all your bottled up feelings were resurfacing. it doesn't make you feel better about it but that doesn't stop you though.

“answer me. did you think of her when you're in bed with me? when you're kissing me and when you're holding me, was she the one on your mind??” your voice was loud now. you should be afraid of waking up megumi who you cradled to sleep just a few hours ago but no, your thoughts are too clouded right now.

toji sighs. he has no excuse.

“i used to” he actually looks ashamed as if he wasn't the one who did it purely out of his will.

your scoff makes him wince “but not anymore.”

his words fall on deaf ears “you know… i knew you did. but i stayed regardless because i thought there would be a chance that maybe one day, you could open up your heart to me. im not even asking for all of it, just a little… i thought you'd let me in.”

you're blabbering and honestly, so distraught.

“but not a moment was there when it was me isn't it? it was always her in the first place.”

now toji should have said something, anything but he stays there planted in place. and maybe that was your breaking point.

you turn around, grabbing your bag and brushing past him towards the door. instead of holding onto you and stopping you, toji clutches the small box containing the ring — your ring in his pocket, almost crushing it in the process, as he hears the door slam.

you think it's funny how toji did not reach out after what happened. it's poetic even. very fitting of him, till the very end, he did not give two shits about you.

so then, why were you back here?

it's been four long years since the trajectory of your life changed. you still don't know if it was for the better or for the worse.

saying it has been hard would be an understatement. it took you a long time just to get back onto your own feet but you did it regardless. however, you left a part of you here long ago and now, you're here to take it back.

that and you missed megumi dearly. perhaps it was an excuse too because you won't deny a part of you still missed toji, despite everything that happened.

standing a few feet away from the place you used to call home, you hesitate.

maybe this was a bad idea. oh this was definitely a bad idea. you'll see them, and then what? what comes after that?

closure? don't make yourself laugh. you’ll just be reminded of how you couldn't be that person for toji— how you'll always come second. and what if they moved?? there's no reason they'd still be here right?

forget this, you don't need to do this. why must you still be the one who put effort? to reach out? four long years passed and still no news means they clearly moved on... right?

you were convinced enough and was about to go back when you saw little megumi carrying a backpack on his back, seemingly coming home from school.

your feet wouldn't move and your eyes wouldn't blink. he grew up so well.

the world pauses as your gaze follows the kid you used to consider your own, now as good as a stranger.

“do you know that kid?” a voice at your back makes you whip your head around. life really is full of surprises and this time, the surprise was in the form of a tall man, no a tall kid with white hair, looking at you curiously through his round tinted glasses.

“... no i don't” well you weren't exactly lying. you don't know the megumi you see now. perhaps if he asked whether you raised him since he was a baby till he was two, then your answer would've been different.

“oh okay” the boy shrugs. “poor guy though”

“why? whats up with him?” you turn to look at megumi again who was minding his business walking home and your heart aches a little.

“I'm here to recruit him. his dad died you see so he's–”

“wait what was that??”

“his dad. he's dead” the amused boy in front of you chuckles and you stare at him, horrified.

“what happened to him?” your voice was shaky and doesn't sound like your own. he leans down to meet your eye level and smirks “why? i thought you don't know that kid. why does that matter to you?”

your stomach churns as you stare at him, not even knowing what to say— the smug expression on his face only widens.

“so you do know him.”

'know' would be a weak word to use when it comes to toji. you knew of his habits, the simple things he does and also of the more complex ones — like the exact place his scar decorated his lips and how it felt to kiss it.

then again, you don't really know anything about him and maybe you never will.

and maybe that's really, the closure you needed.