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champagnefountains · 1 year ago

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LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.

CHAPTER II - Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.

Previous chapter: [x] Word Count: 3.4k+ words (unedited). Genre/other tags: Angst with some fluff. Jealousy. Fem pronouns used. Warnings: Swearing. Self-deprecation. Manipulation (on Alastor's part).

It had been nearly over a week since you and Lucifer last talked – it had also been a week since Lucifer was last seen around in the hotel. Angel, being the gossiper he was, relayed everything that had transpired between you two to the others the following day. Seeing the sensitive and sad shell of a person you were left in, everyone remained cautious and had started walking on eggshells around you. Of course, you were quick to pick up on that, as embarrassing as it all was (minus Alastor, who continued on with his usual theatrics and mischief).

Charlie in particular was the most concerned out of them all, since this was her dad we were talking about. She knew with certainty that he was confining himself in the castle to distract himself from what happened – likely something involving his rubber-ducky obsession – instead of facing the problem head on. It was his pride that sometimes got in the way of his better judgement.

Not only that, but Charlie clearly saw the massive toll it took on you. If you weren’t distracting yourself with work or doing something related to the hotel, you would lock yourself away in your room, only coming out to quickly grab a bite to eat from the kitchen. Charlie even made efforts to strike many conversations with you from time to time, but was either excused or was only given one-worded responses. She knew not to take your dismissive behaviour to heart, but she couldn’t help but fret over you.

So it came as an absolute surprise when out of nowhere, Charlie received a call from her father. She messily scrambled for her phone on her desk, fumbling and nearly dropping it in the process before violently tapping on the small screen. “H-Hello?! Dad, hey!” She answers a bit too enthusiastically while nervously combing her hair with a free hand. “Uh, hey Charlie!” Lucifer stiffly greets from the other line, “I just…um, thought I’d give a call to, uh, see how everyone’s going at the hotel!” The Princess noted how much hoarser his voice was than usual, but decided not to comment on it aloud.

“Well, y’know how it is! It’s been busy and lively as always–everyone’s been working really hard and all,” she answers vaguely, nervously chuckling. “Err, yeah! Right. That’s a–that’s a relief to hear. Yep,” he hums. There was a brief, awkward pause that ensued soon after, the both of them not knowing what to say next. The whole exchange was becoming increasingly painful that Charlie resisted the urge to pull her hair. She then clears her throat. “H-How about you, dad? What’ve you been up to? You’ve been gone for a couple or so days,” Charlie finally musters, “are…are you doing alright?”

“Me? Oh yeah, psh! I just got, erm…a lot of things going on at the moment. It’s not so easy being the big boss of hell after all! Got a lot of important things to do! Plus, I’ve got heaps of paperwork to do for the hotel. You should know how tedious that is,” He says, adding an exaggerated groan.

The princess furrows her brows. “Oh, that’s…strange. ’Cause I could’ve sworn you left all the papers here…y’know, the ones you told me to revise over?” Charlie replies, side-eyeing the said documents stacked neatly on her desk. A startled yelp escapes his throat. “O-Oh...did I?” He stammers.

Charlie couldn’t help but wince at the evident panic that began to set in as she listened to her father make incomprehensible noises from the other line. It was a poor attempt in reasoning, which ultimately became useless in the end. Lucifer let out a long sigh, caught red-handed. “Oh, who the hell am I kidding? You guys probably already know what happened–which by the way, Charlie, you shouldn’t be lying to me about!” He pointedly remarks.

“I-I’m sorry, dad! It’s just…I’m really worried about you,” she reasons, before shortly adding, “...The both of you.”

There was a small pause. “...How is she, by the way?” He then asks quietly. Charlie nervously tugs her bottom lip with her fangs. “Well, she’s keeping herself busy. Constantly, as a matter of fact. And I know she’s trying hard to convince us all that she’s holding up okay, but…she doesn’t look too good, dad. She seems really upset.”

A shaky exhale sounded from his end. “I…I really am hopeless, aren’t I?” He mumbles defeatedly. Even though she couldn’t see him, she could picture him burying his face in his hands. The image caused Charlie’s eyes to soften. “Dad, no. It’s not too late. You still have a chance to make things right,” Charlie gently encourages through the speaker, “you just need to talk to each other–”

Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, a bright, blazing portal manifests from thin air – from it, emerges Lucifer himself who appeared extremely dishevelled, effectively catching Charlie off guard.

“But, hun, y-you don’t understand! I messed up big time!” He exclaims, tugging on his unkempt hair as he aimlessly paced around her office. “I-I mean, look at me! I’m a fucking mess and a coward! Why would she ever think to take me back after what I did!?” He chuckles humourlessly, shaking his head in disbelief, “I-It’s like no matter how many times I try to redeem and convince myself that everything’s finally going right in my life, I just continue to fuck myself over and over again. And it’s just– ugh! It’s pathetic! I’m fucking pathetic!”

Charlie’s chest tightened considerably as she watched her father self-destruct before her. Strands of his golden hair were sticking out here and there, his dress-shirt tousled, and his eyes were glossed over and red, from both a lack of sleep and crying. He looked utterly devastated. Chucking her phone away, she immediately sped towards and enveloped Lucifer in her arms, who immediately broke down into heavy sobs. Seeing him like this brought tears to her own eyes, but she firmly told herself to be the stronger person in this situation, for his sake.

“Hey, hey. Dad, listen to me, okay? Everyone deserves a second chance. You of all people should know–you were the one who taught me that, remember?” Charlie rubbed his back soothingly, trying to ease the jumpiness of his shoulders. “And that also applies to you. I…I know you’ve been through a lot, especially with mum…” She couldn’t help the way her frown deepened as she spoke, “...and I miss her too. I miss her a lot. But…I think it’s finally time for you to move on. It’s been years, dad. You deserve to be happy and you’re allowed to be in love again.”

“[Name]’s an amazing person, and there’s no doubt about that. She’s proved that more than many times already. I’m certain that once things ease over and you guys finally talk things through, everything will turn out okay; she’s very understanding and kind like that. You’ll both be okay.” Charlie gently pulls Lucifer away and with the sleeve of her blazer, she wipes his damp, reddened cheeks. “I know for a fact that she loves and cares about you deeply – we can all see it as clear as day. You…you love her too, don’t you, dad?”

For a brief moment’s contemplation, Lucifer suddenly recalled the times you spent together, from your initial meeting to now. He had always thought you were a strong and independent soul, with the way you carried yourself. You just had something about you that naturally drew in those around you, including himself. When Lucifer got to know you in a deeper level, he was enthralled by how kind and understanding you were – you were always there to listen to his many tales and endless nonsense; you would always seem genuinely interested in his rubber-duck-esque inventions, offering some input and critiquing his creations; and you would always be so, so supportive of all his plans and ideas, no matter how extraordinary they all seemed.

If he hadn't known any better, Lucifer would've thought you were an actual angel. You were the saviour that wore off the darkness in troubling times, and the one who pulled him out of the void that Lilith had left him in. That and more, as you continuously gave him a real reason to remain hopeful. You were proof personified, that he was able to open his heart once more, and to love again.

“I-I do, I really do,” Lucifer affirms in a heartbeat. Charlie smiles warmly, relieved by his answer, “then that’s all you need to say.” At that moment, Lucifer's chest swelled in overwhelming pride for his daughter, knowing that despite not being as present in her life until recently, she grew up to be the good and strong-willed person he had hoped for.

“O-Oh, jeez. Since when did you grow up so big? I should be the one comforting you,” He tearfully jokes, sniffling whilst returning her smile, “but thank you, Charlie. Really. I’m…I-I really am grateful to call you my daughter.” The two royalties then shared a heart-felt moment and a bone-crushing hug, with the King's heart being filled with a new-found determination. Because, just as he always says: The show must go on.

Earlier on:

On the other side of the building, you were drowning yourself in your own self-despair as you overlooked the balcony by the front entrance of the hotel. Your eyes lazily scanned the new hotel patrons below, who were engaging in some trust exercises led by Vaggie, who came in to cover you just moments ago. Every once in a while, you couldn’t help but glance at your phone, silently hoping to receive some sort of notification from Lucifer, or even an inkling of his whereabouts. But you received nothing, which only fuelled your growing anxiety.

You felt awful leaving the way you did that night, especially after dumping so much onto Lucifer. You felt like you were being completely selfish, and had cornered him into making a big decision. And because of that, your relationship was on the line. You let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing angrily at your face.

Little did you know however, that you had some company lurking nearby, watching you in silent amusement.

“Now, don’t you look as miserable as ever?” Alastor mockingly chimes in, stepping out from the shadows to make his presence known and joins you by the balcony. You roll your eyes at the deer-demon before turning your head the other direction. “Yeah, and what about it?” You scoff, leaning in to rest your arms against the rails, “Can’t you go bother someone else, Alastor? I’m certainly not in the mood right now.”

“Why, I wouldn’t be a good hotelier if I left a dear co-worker of mine so down in the slumps!” To your dismay, Alastor reappears in front of you, obstructing your field of view, "And might I add, it's not healthy for you to be all cooped up in your room all the time – stay there any longer, and it can do silly, little things to your head!" He emphasises his point as he spins a finger in a circular motion by his temple. You shot him an irritated look, slowly growing fed up by his prodding.

"Listen, I don't need you telling me what I should and shouldn't do. I’m more than capable of deciding that on my own,” you growl, straightening up to cross your arms firmly against your chest. “Hm...no, I don’t think so!” Alastor hums, shaking his head disapprovingly, “The unfortunate affair that took place in your courtship with the King has left you in such a vulnerable, and problematic state. And I’m sure you’ve taken note of how everyone’s been acting around you – constantly walking on their tiptoes in fear of setting you off on a hissy-fit. You’ve caused them to worry a lot about you, dear. Poor ol’ Charlie, especially.”

You open your mouth to retort back, but nothing came out. A strong pang of guilt struck you as his words began to sink in. Seeing this, Alastor’s grin widened a faction as he stepped forward and levelled himself with you, now facing you eye-to-eye. “And as the executive producer of this fine establishment, might I critique that your behaviour is affecting our team’s morale and performance…and we mustn’t have that now, should we? Especially not since we’ve all been more preoccupied recently with our guests!” He…had a fair point, as much as you didn’t want to admit it.

“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t…know…” Your voice began to trail off, shoulders slumping in realisation of how selfish and contemptuous you’ve been acting this whole week. You recalled the fretful expressions of your friends and your dismissive attitude towards them. “I-I didn’t mean to make everyone worry…” you quietly say. Alastor’s words only made you feel immensely worse about the whole situation, leaving you sniffling on the spot.

“Now, now. As long as you realise your mistakes, then you shall be forgiven,” he coos, softly patting the tuft of your head. At that, you couldn’t help but send a doubtful glance his way. “W-wait a minute…why do you care all of a sudden? What exactly are you playing at?” You suspiciously question as you rub at your eyes.

“Oh, how you wound me, dear! Why must you always question any act of kindness I display? Is it really that hard to believe?” He adverts, evidently feigning hurt. You deadpan. “Yes, it is,” you reply almost instantly. Alastor chortles at your bluntness, “Haha! You’re quite a work of art, aren't you, dear? Now, let’s go out for a walk, shall we?”

Before you could’ve processed what he had said, Alastor had already spun you around, pulling you with him as you both headed down a flight of stairs. “Wha–Alastor, where are we–where the heck are you taking me?” You asked, trying to keep up with his long strides so as to not trip down the stairs. “Hm? Did I not already specify? It looks like your brooding has impacted your hearing, dear. That’s a shame,” he slyly comments, now dragging you towards the entrance, “We’re both going for a walk around town, it’ll help clear that cloudy head of yours!”

“Hold on-Stop! Just what makes you think I’d agree to go out with you?” You shoot back, retracting your arm from his hold and stopping metres behind him. Alastor sharply turns around and pulls out a wrinkled, yellow piece of paper out of thin air. Your eyes dart towards the sheet, seeing a familiar hand-writing across the page.

“Why, I just knew you were going to question me – you're so predictable. But might I add, we’re not going out without purpose! No, no! Our lovely Charlie has composed a list and requested we fetch a couple items in town!” Stepping forward, you swiftly snatched the paper from his clawed hand and briefly scanned the list, noting that it largely consisted of decorations and party items. “She wanted to organise a heart-warming celebration for the wayward souls here who have accomplished some milestones on their journey to redemption! An anniversary ceremony of sorts, if you will,” Alastor explains, lightly patting the non-existing dust off of his suit.

“But couldn’t you just…I don’t know, teleport the things here?” You blatantly ask, raising a brow at him. You knew he was more than capable of doing such minuscule tasks within a span of seconds. “And waste such a beautiful day outside? Now, why would I even consider doing that?” Alastor states matter-of-factly, “And like I said, the short trip will help clear your troubled mind! Consider it a gesture of compassion from yours truly.”

There was clearly something off about all this but you couldn’t see any reason for an ulterior motive. It was just…simply a manager looking out for the well-being of his work-colleagues, as uncharacteristic and off-putting as it sounded out loud. Already exhausted, you couldn’t bring it in yourself to question his actions any further.

“You’re really not going to take ‘no’ for an answer, are you?” You ask. Seeing the way Alastor’s grin widened had you sighing in defeat. “Shall we then?” Alastor questions, offering an arm out to you. Rolling your eyes, you loop one of your arms through and follow him out the hotel. ‘A small walk wouldn’t hurt…’ you think to yourself as the doors shut behind you.

Currently:

Lucifer tiredly dragged himself to his designated room in the hotel, to rest for a while and take a much needed bath as per Charlie’s advice. He gave himself a lengthy pep-talk in front of the mirror as he brushed his teeth, deciding to approach you tonight to finally talk and clear things out. Yes, he was absolutely terrified about the possibility of things going south during the confrontation, but he didn’t think he could handle another second being without you. And he needed to make that loud and clear.

After putting on an outfit and neatly slicking his hair back, Lucifer looked at his reflection once more in the bedside mirror, inspecting himself up and down to flatten any remaining creases of his clothing. But it wasn't until his gaze landed on his left hand that he tensed up. Peering down, he brought his hand into view to inspect the very wedding band that caused it all. With a shaky sigh, Lucifer slowly pulled the ring off of his finger. He took a moment to examine it, eyes filled with sentiment before kneeling down to open his bedside drawer, where its designated ring-box sat. The moment he encased the ring in its box and locked it away in his drawer, it felt like a breath of fresh air. To his own surprise, Lucifer found himself tearfully laughing – he felt...genuinely happy. Proud, even. It was at this very moment that he felt like he was finally ready to move forward.

After patting the stray tears away from his face, Lucifer slowly made his way down to the front lobby. There, Charlie and Vaggie were talking amongst themselves by the lounge area, whilst Angel and Cherri chuckled away by the bar, with Husk tending to their beverages. The King didn’t give an inkling of care as to where Alastor had gone, and he was certain that Nifty was hiding somewhere in the small crevices of the hotel, cleaning away. All in all, there was no sight of you whatsoever, visibly disappointing him.

Seeing his approaching form, Charlie waved his father over towards them. “Hey, dad. Are you feeling a bit better now?” She asks with a comforting smile. “Yeah, totally. Thanks, dear,” he says, patting her shoulder affectionately before turning his attention towards her partner. “Hey! How’s it going, Maggie? I’ve heard you’ve been working real hard lately, huh? Good on yah!” He commends, playfully nudging the said demon. “Oh, um…it’s–it’s Vaggie, sir. And uh, thanks,” she nervously chuckles, rubbing her arm. “Mhm, yeah…that’s–that’s great,” Lucifer distractedly hums, all the while scanning around the room. Noticing this, Vaggie shared a worried look with Charlie.

“Erm, dad, she’s not here at the moment if that’s what you’re wondering,” Charlie starts, alerting her father. “Oh? Well, is she up in one of the guest rooms?” Lucifer asked, gesturing upstairs with a thumb. To his confusion, Charlie appeared somewhat nervous, her hands fidgeting with her suit. “Uh, no, she’s actually not in the hotel at the moment,” Vaggie steps in, “she’s been out doing a couple of errands for us.” Lucifer raised a brow at the slight edginess in her tone, eyes darting back and forth between the two girls. “...Um, alright. What the heck is going on right now?" He asks, pointing an accusatory finger at them both, "You guys are acting sketchy as fuck. Are you...are you guys hiding something from me?" He narrows his eyes. Charlie sucks in a breath, brows pinching together, “Well...dad, t-the thing is–”

“She’s out with Smiles right now!” Angel suddenly intervened, calling out from the other side of the room, and causing Charlie to cower and duck behind Vaggie. Lucifer felt his shoulders grow rigid. “She’s…what now?” He dangerously asks, glaring at the arachnid. Before Lucifer trudged towards the direction of the bar, the front doors of the hotel abruptly flew open. He felt the vein in his neck nearly burst at the sound of your laughter interlacing itself with that god-awful, irritating radio feedback. What a wild coincidence.

As Lucifer turned around, his eyes nearly flew out of his head as he saw how close you were with Alastor, arms basically locked together. The radio-demon was quick to meet eyes with the King, and out of spite, Alastor flashed him the biggest shit-eating grin he's ever seen.

“Oh, fuck no!”

Chapter III - Finale [x]

Thank you for reading!

#lucifer magne x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar

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chessboardalliance-meeplemadness · 9 days ago

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(I just realized I never gave context for this. so um here's some Loreᵀᴹ)

the Alliance has classifications when assigning targets, to help them identify the best course of action dealing with any given one. these are given so much detail it rivals the SCP Foundation I think

"0-class Apocalypse scenario" is just me liking the idea of "K-class end of the world scenario" from SCP

oh and secondary classes

try to find all the references in the icons lol :]

(ooc: hey y'all mind if I go full SCP foundation level lore or- <- has Plans)

#ooc #⏳lore #(erm. drops this here)

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midgarangel · 2 months ago

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ꗃ snowed in | arthur morgan ⭐️

summary: arthur finds you out all alone without your horse in the middle of the grizzlies during a bad snow storm.

contents: nsfw! arthur morgan x fem reader, good honor arthur, pre tb, both of them are the definition of touch starved, penetration, reader squ**ts?? hell yeah.

words: 3.5k (?) i have no clue

—

Up in Mount Hagen west of the grizzlies, the fire was going while he set the tent up. It hadn’t snowed in days thankfully. Arthur could tell it would in the morning just by how the temperature dropped severely throughout the night.

“You’re alright..”

His beloved horse Boadicea, shook off the chill in the air and neighed. Arthur got some sleep as best as he could, deciding to wait till dawn to set off.

—

Tracking a bounty all the way up here might not have been the smartest idea. Some lowlife criminal with a fine price on his head, wanted dead or alive. Arthur hoped he would stumble upon the man frozen while out riding. Instead he was met with endless amounts of snow ahead of him.

He couldn’t even get a cup of decent coffee going, day was already off to a bad start. It was now around eleven a.m based off the pocket watch he kept in his satchel. Boadicea kept trekking as best as she could.

Arthur loved to get away from camp whenever he could. None of Dutch’s nonsense, no Micah, no nothing. Only now he wished he could turn around and see greenery and meadows instead of pure white.

Boadicea snorted, the snow seemed to be falling heavier. Arthur couldn’t see ahead of him and it seemed like a blizzard was approaching.

“Just a little more girl cmon..”

The wind roared far out as they continued. The path below them was still visible. Yet, deep in the grizzlies now it was no use going back. He fed Boadicea a carrot hoping her stamina would improve.

Best to keep going, he thought. No way I’m gon make it out of the range till it calms down.

With the storm calming down a bit, Arthur took note of his surroundings. Near the now frozen lake, lake isabella. The trail that adorned the body of water had footprints that looked fresh. Footprints that belonged to someone smaller than Him. His suspicions were about to be confirmed.

He heard sniffing and shuffling up ahead. Rounding the corner he laid eyes on you. On tbe ground picking up the contents that were on e in your basket. Your outwear covered in snow. The basket you were carrying blown across from you, and your crops on the ground.

“Er, you alright there?” He asked cautiously.

You turned around frazzled.

“Who’s there?”

Arthur threw his hands up in defense coming into view, not wanting to scare you.

“Woah there it’s okay ma’am I don’t mean you no harm.”

You nodded. He seemed harmless, you were hoping he kept his word.

“Well it makes no difference now…if the snow doesn’t let up, nothing will grow for the rest of the month.”

“If an outlaw or wild animal doesn’t get me then starvation will.” You continued defeated.

He watched you dust off the snow from your shoulders. Noticing you didn’t have a horse.

“You walked out here all alone?”

Shaking your head yes, you explained to him that you left your horse home knowing how harsh the weather would be.

“She’s too old to be out here in weather like this…thought I could make it before it got real bad.”

Arthur thought that was a stupid idea, you could tell from his face. He felt sorry for you.

“Is your home nearby? I could take you there.” He pointed to Boadicea.

You eyed him wearily. A handsome stranger in the middle of a snowstorm offering to take you home? Too good to be true. He had to be trouble, but something about him seemed honest. His blue green eyes sparkling in contrast to the white all around you two.

“Yes..just a couple of miles. Near the frozen waterfall.”

You watched the gears turn in his head. He was glad he found you before you had froze to death.

“Well, ill erm,” He gathered up his supplies making sure Boadicea was ready to go. Offering a stretched out arm to you.

“Cmon, I gotcha.”

On the way to your tiny cabin of a house you attempted to make small talk. It was a ways to go, a few more turns down the trail.

“So, why’re you out here?” You asked, hands on his lower back hanging on.

“Bounty huntin.”

You took a mental note of that. If he had any plans of robbing you once you got home you were done for. Yet you found humor in this predicament.

“Sure I can trust you?” You chuckled.

“Not a bounty are you?” He rebutted.

A comfortable silence settled over the two of you, halfway through the ride.

“Your horse is beautiful..reminds me of mine when she was younger.”

Arthur smiled, you couldn’t see though.

“My pride and joy. Don’t know what i’d do without her, how long have you had yours?” He asked.

Looking back on the time you first got her it seemed like a lifetime ago. Your Dad made one of his wishes come true before he died, bringing her home from an auction. She was just a foal when you were twelve.

Now twenty eight, Olive got sick last year. You vowed to take care of her as best as you could. Even if that meant coming out in a snowstorm as bad as this one in search of herbs for her.

“Sixteen years and counting I hope.” You said.

“She’ll pull through, long as she’s got ya.” Arthur meant that. You sounded sincere, he respected that.

“I’m right here.” You pointed to the brown wooden cabin hidden by flower bushes. Your house was in front of the waterfall you mentioned earlier.

Arthur got off Boadicea first to help you get down. He rounded the corner to help you. The steadiness of his grip, the way his other hand comes to your waist when your legs wobble slightly upon landing, had you besotted. You were grateful for his touch, even if it burned.

A bone chilling wind came through ruining your moment, almost blowing you away. You stumbled a bit, Arthur grabbed your wrist before you could fall.

“Careful there.” He said smirking under his hat.

“Thanks.”

Gathering yourself, you wondered where he’d be off to now. One side of your brain saying to invite him in, the other saying give him a couple of dollars and send him on his way.

You hadn’t had company in god knows how long. Living out here in the mountains wasn’t for the weak, you considered yourself strong. Especially after your parents passing. It’d be nice to hear someone else’s voice for a while over some tea and bread.

“Hey um, wanna come in for a bit? Just till the snow-”

“Oh ma’am it’s alright you don’t-”

“No no I insist, I only have a few dollars, it’s the least I could do to make up for it.”

“Unless you have somewhere to be.” You added.

Arthur hesitated. He didn’t have anywhere to be. He was probably gonna go back to camp once the storm was over, the last place he’d want to be these days.

“Well, as soon as it stops i’ll be out your hair.”

“Come on in.”

—

Arthur sat at your small dining table taking in your home. Kitchen full of spices, teacups on the shelves, flour on the apron hanging up by your counter. Honing in on the fireplace across from your bed, it was a small space but you made it look big and full of life. Out the window he noticed a small barn behind the house. That must be where Olive is he thought.

“Here’s some fresh bread, made it this morning.”

You set the plate down in front of him. His mouth watering at the sight.

“Want some honey and butter?” You asked while rummaging through your cabinets, back turned to him.

“I’d love some.”

You smiled warmly at him grabbing the honey and butter.

“Hope you haven’t been eating just plain ol bread all the time, where’s the fun in that?”

Guilty.

“Can’t really fit that kinda stuff out here, gotta make room for my coffee.”

You shook your head.

“Foods more important but I understand. My Dad was a coffee drinker, traded anything for a good batch.”

“He’s a good man.” Arthur said as he took a bite of his bread.

“Before he passed he told me where his secret stash was.” You laughed.

Arthur chuckled lightly.

“You can have it if you want. I should’ve offered you that before I asked you to come in.”

“I’m happy you decided to come in though.” You added.

He nodded in agreement. He could tell you meant that.

“This is a nice space you got here. It’s remote, but you can survive here alright. Can do without the snow though.” He said looking around.

“Why thank you. That means a lot. You’ve probably lived your whole life outdoors.”

“A lot of it, that’s for sure.”

“I barely left the city before coming here ya know. People always talk about the simplicity of country life but it can be hard at times.” You said.

“I guess we only know what we know, city life sounds awful.”

“Oh it is. A truly empty and boring existence…but an undeniably easy one.”

“I bet.”

“So what about you? Where are you from?” You inquired.

As the sun sets with no signs of the snow stopping, you settle in for a evening full of stories of Arthurs escapades and card games. Getting to know a bit about the people he calls family.

He tells you about Dutch and Hosea, how much they mean to him. He mentions a man by the name of John who he sees as a brother. He also tells you about Tilly, who he saved a few weeks ago from some bad people. Then he mentions Charles, the man who taught him how to use a bow properly.

“You know... I had a son once. Years ago. I don't talk about him much.”

He didn’t usually open up to people like this. He’d only known you for a few hours yet somehow you now knew little parts of his story.

“Good kid.” Arthur took a sip of his bourbon then handed the bottle to you.

You took a sip. The warm amber liquor burning as it went down. Finding solace in the fact that you guys shared similar experiences.

“I’m so sorry Arthur.” You passed it back to him.

“S-all good. I’ve made peace with it. Miss em like hell though.”

Another instance of comfortable silence settled. The fire crackled in front of you two, warm enough to forget about the cold outside.

“How about that Horse?” Arthur nudged his head towards the window.

“You wanna meet her? We can keep Boadicea in the barn for the night too.” You said giddily.

Arthur took in the excitement from your face. You had a pretty smile.

“I have some medicine in my satchel. Happy to share. Just gotta lead me to er.”

“You’re a good man.”

“You don’t really know me.”

“I know enough. Theres always more to find in ourselves…you helped me to see that.”

“Reckon you’ll be just fine.” He said getting up.

When you get outside the air is a lot calmer with the snow up to your ankles. Arthur offers his arm for you to hold on to as you walk to the barn.

“She’s in here.”

You open the door slowly. Revealing a frail mahogany horse with white spots. She stands slowly after hearing you approach.

“Heyyyy there girl. Sorry I’ve been gone for a while.” Olive neighs in response, receiving the pats you give her.

“She’s a stunner.” Arthur says as he watches you with her.

“Should’ve seen Ol when she was in her prime. I love her even more now though.” You say cooing at her.

“Stallions bring out the best in people.”

Arthur takes the medicine out of his satchel, walking up to her. It’s late night and the orange glow from the barn lights makes him look impeccable. He gently coaxes Olive into taking the medicine, looking totally in his element.

“You’re so gentle with her.”

Arthur smiles at that comment.

It makes you dizzy. Spending the entire day with him was amazing though it went by so fast. The last time you “talked” with someone was at your local butcher about meat prices. Arthur had saved you from getting hypothermia, ate your bread, provided stories, and now he’s helping your horse. Maybe it was the two sips of bourbon but before you could stop yourself-

“Would you be that gentle with me?” You say suddenly with want on your face.

Arthur glances at you and chuckles. He’s been thinking about how your hair looks so soft and how your freckles show up the most when you smile. He can’t forget about how warm your personality is, or your hospitality. That’s all enough for him to entertain you.

“Did I hear you right?” He asks, still tending to her.

You wait with bated breath turning your head to the side in anticipation.

“There you go girl..” Making sure she’s alright, he turns to you walking closer.

He places his hand on your face smoothing his thumb over your cheek. You lean into his touch.

“Only if you’ll have me. And if you want me to be gentle.”

You nod slowly in the palm of his hand, pulling yourself closer into him. Your noses rub together hesitant in wanting to kiss. He takes your chin in between his fingers.

“It’s been so long…”

“Y‘need this as much as I do. Hm?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and whispered in his ear.

“Badly.” Was all that you said.

He took a deep inhale, inhaling your scent.

“I…It’s been a while darlin.”

Your chest ached at the rawness in his voice. You cupped his jaw and pulled him back enough to see his face—eyes needy yet earnest.

"You’re here now," You murmured. "I’ve got you."

That was all the permission he needed.

When his lips finally touch yours, he kisses you, really kisses you, it’s slow, and deliberate at first, like he’s aware of how delicate this moment is. His breath hitches, just barely, but you feel it in the way his hands dig into your clothed hips, dragging you flush against him, no space, no air, just him. He kissed you like a drowning man who just then realized where you two stood.

“Wait a sec. Gotta do this properly.” Arthur said still holding you.

You look confused at first, then you understood. You both couldn’t do this in the barn.

“Such a gentleman.” You laughed, the both of you making your way back inside the house.

So as fate wanted, your bed creaked at the force from Arthur sitting down. Straddling him now, your knees press into the cushion, chest light against his, the steady rise and fall of his breath meeting yours. He marveled at your beauty silently before kissing you again.

The second kiss is different. Sloppier. Needier. His tongue pushes past your lips, dragging deep and wet into your mouth like he’s starving for it, like he needs to savor the heat of you just once before he lets you leave the house. He licks into you slowly, unhurried, groaning softly as he swallows your breath like it’s something sweet on his tongue. You gasped, grinding your hips against the hard length straining in his pants.

“Arthur…” you moan, rubbing your thinly covered core against his rough jeans.

“This darn skirt. Getting in the way of things.”

Helping both of you strip down, clumsily giving up on his own clothes since he was more focused on you. You pressed kisses anywhere you could reach in between.

He dropped to his knees between your thighs on the bed, hands gripping them like he needed to hold on. He wanted to feel every inch of you.

He kissed the inside of your thigh, mouthing at your skin, leaving messy, open-mouthed kisses all over your hips, your stomach, your chest.

"Been dying to taste you," he admitted shamelessly. Breath hot against your core.

“Can I?”

You nodded, and he dove in, tongue lapping at you smoothly, savoring you. Hearing your light airy moans egged him on. He was trying to memorize every inch of you all at once. You felt like a small animal with a predator’s teeth on her neck with the way he looks at you.

"Could stay right here forever.”

His rough hands reached the curls of your most intimate part, running his fingers there as if he were petting it while you watched in amazement. He was a real man.

You whimpered, threading your fingers through his hair, tugging sharply out of embarrassment or something softer. Imagining what it would be like if he did stay here forever.

“So goddamn pretty.” He groaned into you, couldn’t help himself. You gasped.

“Your clothes..wanna see you.”

Arthur lets out a soft chuckle as he straightens up. You watched him undress while you lay on the bed. He could tell how much it was for you, all naked while he was still clothed, the spontaneity of it all. No blankets covering you yet. You felt shy but you were too lustful to show it.

His front and back were rippled with meat and muscle, the type of figure one can only attain through constant hard work and running. His skin littered with scars in different shapes and textures, some fully healed and others jagged. You've never seen a man quite like him. You wanted to ask him about each scar.

“Come here..” You beckoned him. He crawled up your body, his dick rubbing slick and heavy against your thigh. The both of you were drunk off of each-other at this point.

“Still want me to be gentle?” He asked while kissing your neck.

“Do whatever you want.” You moaned when his tip softly went in. Your breath hitched, feeling finally full in who knows how long.

He pushed himself completely in you, noticing your eyes roll back momentarily. Cunt split open and stuffed, you adjusted to his size.

“You don’t even know what you’re askin’ for,” he says quietly, like it’s just between the two of you and always will be. “But I’ll give it to you anyway.”

Your mind was a daze, you just wanted to feel him all around you. Completely enveloping you, all your senses locked on Arthur.

“So good," he choked out. "You can take it darlin.”

He kisses you. Filthy. Deep. His tongue pushes into your mouth before you can breathe, and you melt into it, whining into the hot slide of it as his hands roam low, gripping your ass like he’s already imagining how it’ll feel when you switch positions.

You repeated what he said in a daze. “I can take it…” Wrapping your legs around his waist, meeting his thrusts, each one a little more tantalizing than the last.

He gently takes your legs and puts them up so you could wrap them around his torso. You melted deeper into his body, submissive flares. You weren’t even aware of him moving your hair out of your face. You bit your lip at the gesture

“Jus’need to see you sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

The new nickname had your heart jumping. So happy that you had moved up from being called “ma’am” to “darlin” to now sweetheart. If he stayed he’d come up with even more names.

Suddenly he flipped the two of you over so he’s behind you, shutting you up with another kiss before you can protest. It’s slower and heavier like he’s savoring your desperation.

Legs spreading automatically to make room for him, you look up and bat your eyelashes. The room smells like want. The sweet aroma of honey, wood, sweat and sex. You’re glistening, shimmering under the dim lighting of the cabin. Leaking warmth like a prayer meant only for him.

His growl rumbles up from deep in his chest, a sound that vibrates through the bed beneath you and takes root in your spine. There’s nothing gentle in the way he moves.

Your thighs tremble and a choked, broken moan punches free of your lungs before you even realize it’s coming. Your hand flies to your mouth instinctively, fingers splayed across your lips like you can hold in what he’s tearing out of you. Arthur doesn’t stop.

“Let me hear ya.” He rasps, eyes locked between your legs like they’re tracking the center of the universe. Your hands grip the sheets, as you fuck him back. Begging him without words but with whimpers to never stop.

He groans against you, deep and wrecked, and the vibrations pulse through your cunt like an aftershock. Pounding into you at this rate, your mind goes blank at one point, he’s relentless. He taps your hip with the back of his hand and looks at you like you’re God.

“Not yet sweetheart. Gonna ride me,” he pants, dragging the words out low and rough as you crawl on his lap. Breath hitching as your thighs spread over his, the air between your bodies sharp and electric. Your cunt drags over his shaft, slick and hot. The sound that leaves his throat is pure hunger as he grabs himself in one hand, smearing your arousal down his length. Dragging the head through your folds with purpose, watching your face twist with need.

“Don’t run,” he breathes, his voice barely more than a growl, forehead pressed to yours. “Be good.”

And you are good.

You lower yourself inch by devastating inch, the stretch slow and punishing, your body fighting to take him as your nails dig into his shoulders, your breath coming out in little gasps that sound more like worship. You feel your walls part around him for the third time tonight. Feeling every ridge, every vein, every delicious ache as you sink down and bottom out.

He hisses, biting at your throat. Arthurs hands clenching around your waist like he’s anchoring himself in place.

“Look at you. Fuckin’ perfect.”

You moan into his mouth when he kisses you again, sloppier now. More tongue than lips. And then you move rolling your hips, building the rhythm that will destroy you. Every bounce draws a new groan from his throat, every grind makes your clit drag against the coarse hair at the base of his cock, sending jolts of pleasure through your spine. Your thighs burn but you couldn’t care less.

The bed rocks with the momentum, each thrust pushing the air from your lungs, each slap of skin against skin driving you closer to the edge. His hands find your ass, pulling you down harder, making you take him, and when you whimper, he chuckles dark and low against your throat.

“Yeah, darlin. That’s it. You hear that?” he grunts, pressing his palm to your lower belly, feeling the bulge where he’s buried so deep inside. “That’s me right there.”

You practically wail out, your high and aching body pulsing around him as your thighs tremble from the stretch. The slick of your cunt dripping down him. The musky sound of your bodies slapping together filling every inch of the cabin like heat pressed into fogged glass. Was it even snowing anymore?

Arms wrapped tight around his neck, your face buried against his temple, your fingers tangled in his hair like you’re trying to fuse your body to his. You can feel him panting against your collarbone, open-mouthed and desperate, like he’s biting back something loud, something animal, something barely tamed.

“Christ,” Arthur breathes against your skin, the sound more of a broken moan than a word. His voice wet and trembling. His teeth find your neck again, grazing the sensitive curve where shoulder meets throat, biting down just enough to make your pussy clench around him in response, and he feels it.

He groans against you, lips dragging along the line of your jaw as he grinds you down harder, deeper, every upward thrust punching the air from your lungs.

You’re babbling now, nothing coherent, not even words, just gasps and little broken sobs of pleasure, your hips moving on instinct, chasing something bright and unbearable as his dick grinds right into that perfect, dizzying spot inside you.

“That’s it, ride it out, sweet girl. You sound so fuckin’ pretty when you cry like that.”

The pressure mounts, unbearable. You can’t even fight it anymore. The pleasure barrels through you like a lightning strike, brutal, hot, and fast. You throw your head back as you moan deeply. Completely wrecked and shaking. Your thighs lock around him as your cunt spasms violently, clenching down on his dick like it’s trying to keep him.

And then wetness. Heat. Everywhere.

It’s not just an orgasm. It’s something more. Something primal. You squirt around him, the gush soaking his thighs and the sheets below you. The sound obscene as your slick pours out uncontrollably, drenching his lap as you collapse against him with a sob.

Arthur growls, so loud and feral it rips through the cabin like thunder. He slams into you one final time, cock pulsing deep inside your fluttering heat as he comes, thick, hot, and endless!groaning your name into your shoulder as his body trembles beneath you. He doesn't pull out. Doesn’t even try. Just stays buried to the hilt.

He wants to keep you twitching, leaking, falling apart on top of him until you forget what it feels like to breathe without his dick inside you. Eventually, your hips go still. Your head drops onto his shoulder while his arms curl around your waist like armor. One hand stroking slowly up your spine, the other resting flat against your thigh.

Your walls are still fluttering, milking him gently, your cunt wet and stretched and full, and neither of you move. You cockwarm like that, breathing in sync. Sticky skin with the wind howling outside.

Arthur presses a kiss to your temple. Another to your shoulder. One more just beneath your jaw, slower this time, reverent.

He murmurs something into your skin. Something low. Something that sounds like your name.

“Reckon you could stay for a while? You say looking at him tenderly.

He takes your hand and kisses your knuckes. His touch is soft. He just fucked you like a goddamn animal but is still the only man alive who knows how to hold you after. He just might be.

“I’ll stay till you get tired of me. I have no where else to be sweetheart.” Arthur laughs heartily.

You can’t wait to make coffee together in the morning.

—

first arthur fic!! i love rdr2 so much it had to be done. ty for reading xx <3

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption #red dead redemption two #red dead #arthur morgan x female reader #midgarangel

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dvrk-moon · 2 months ago

Text

WE SHOULD’VE LOOKED CLOSER

NISHIMURA RIKI ; 니키

PART ONE HERE

— synopsis: somehow, you’d never noticed that love was captured in photos; it was just barely outside the frame.

— word count: 3.2k

— warnings: cursing

— featuring: enhypen members, mentions of leesol (kiiikiii) and kaede (tripleS)

— playlist: chest - just b

— a/n: erm didn’t expect so many people to want a part 2. but here it is lol

— taglist : @wonietree @yagsoobin @flawlessapollo6 @firstclassjaylee @yxxderly @fairy-jojo @wonuzu @sumzysworld @vociety @arimmortel

can’t tag : @annybah @dissoc1ating

i. YOU ARE THE ONE I CAN’T FORGET

After jokingly telling you he “revoked his invite” over text, Riki called you around five minutes later to ask you — sheepishly — if you would still like to come over to the dorms and hang out.

You’d hung out nearly a million times with Riki one-on-one. You were obviously going to come over if he asked, but you were a bit hesitant to give in this time.

Ever since you’d left his dorms the prior night, you felt a little bit awkward in your own skin. Contrary to what he’d told you, none of his members had watched the horror movie with you two. In fact, most of them weren’t even home, save from Sunghoon and Jay. The aforementioned boys were off in another room gaming at the time, however.

The way that you’d sat with Riki on the couch that night wasn’t the way that best friends sit together. It was way closer together than usual — typically, you two opted to sit at opposite ends of the couch and not remotely touch each other. This time, however, you were sat thigh-to-thigh and arm-to-arm. The entire night, you could feel the heat radiating off of Riki’s body. It wasn’t like you’d never touched the boy before; you’d smacked him on the head plenty of times in your life and maybe hugged him a few times when forced to. But this type of touch was more subtly intimate than you’d done with him.

It would be hard not to acknowledge the way you felt for Riki. You’d known for many months now that you loved the boy — more than any person should feel about their best friend. Even despite this, you’d kept your feelings for him a secret in hopes to not ruin the friendship.

Neither of you had talked about the strange step in intimacy from the night prior, and you weren’t sure if he was going to. It didn’t help that the movie that you’d watched was horror, so you felt yourself jump closer to him every time there was something that remotely scared you.

Your phone buzzed once more with a text from Riki — “Do you want me to come get you” — and as soon as you saw your phone light up, you flipped it over. You needed to be alone with your thoughts for a few minutes before you could acknowledge his message. The inside of your mind was a hurricane, and at the center of it all was Nishimura Riki.

Your phone caught your attention again with another message. Your heart thumped in its chest with anticipation for a response from Riki, but instead, the message came from your friend, Leesol. The message read:

hey just wondering if we’re still on for tomorrow because i miss u :’)

Just as you were typing a response, another message came in from none other than Nishimura Riki himself. You barely had time to read the message before you literally dropped your phone out of fear:

I’m coming to get u now btw be there in 10

Your phone hit the ground with a loud thud as you tried to get yourself together. You’d just been out this morning, so you were already dressed and had some light makeup on. You didn’t want to look like a bum, but you began to worry that this would be too much for a casual hangout with Riki.

Grabbing your phone off the ground, you scrambled around your bedroom to ensure you were ready by the time Riki got to your house.

ii. COME TAKE MY SOUL AWAY

The car ride to the dorms was nearly silent. At first, Riki tried making conversation with you, but after two failed attempts, he stopped trying. In your defense, you felt like your dynamic had completely changed with him overnight. Your heart hadn’t stopped pounding since you’d gotten the text that he was on his way to get you.

Trying to make conversation once more, Riki started, “Hey, we actually just installed a TV in my room. We can hang out in there instead of the living room. I’m pretty sure the guys will be in the living room anyways.”

You managed to muster out a small “okay” in response before going silent again.

The car soon pulled onto the street of the dorms, and the manager who drove you two beckoned for the two of you to run inside into the building.

Heeseung, who seemed to maybe be the only other person in the building, greeted you with a smile before sending Riki a look. Riki offered him a closed-mouth smile before grabbing your hand and pulling you into his room.

He flipped on the light switch to the lamp next to his bed and sat down on it. Pointing towards the TV that sat on top of his dresser, he said, “Viola. Isn’t it nice? Plus, I have my PlayStation set up in here. We can game, if you want.”

You felt yourself relax a little, “Sure. I feel like we haven’t gamed in a while.”

“Do you wanna play COD?” he asked, “Or maybe Minecraft?”

“You traumatized me with a horror movie last night,” you laughed, “so I would appreciate playing a more tame game. Minecraft will do.”

Riki laughed as he recalled your reactions to the movie the night prior as he walked up to the TV and console to set up the game.

As he came back to the edge of the bed where you were sat, you didn’t fail to notice how close he had chosen to sit next to you, very reminiscent of last night.

Your heart started pounding again as Riki started the game.

iii. YOU CAN SLEEP ON MY CHEST

Around an hour later, the game was turned off and you and Riki were lying on his bed.

You got up from the bed, “This is boring.”

Standing up, you began to look around his room for something to do. Riki suggested, “Do you wanna watch a movie?”

“No,” you responded, “I’ve watched enough movies with you for the week. You’re banned from movies with me for a bit.”

You looked over and watched his chest bubble up and down with laughter, making you smile to yourself. You pulled a drawer out from one of his shelves and found something you didn’t expect to see: a photo album.

Grabbing the album and showing him, you laughed, “What’s this here?”

Riki temporarily craned his neck to look at you from across the room and just sighed in response. You walked back towards the bed and flipped it open, immediately seeing pictures of Riki as a baby and into his toddler years.

“Is this a baby picture album?”

“No,” Riki said, “only some of it is.” Riki sat up next to you, watching you flip through a few pages before reaching a certain photo. He laid his back against the wall and watched you from a distance. When you turned to show him the picture, you noticed the distance, so you scooted to sit next to him, wanting to soak up his embarrassment.

Turning the book towards him, you pointed to a photo at the bottom of the right page, “Oh my god,” you laughed, “look at us.”

The picture couldn’t have been any less embarrassing — taken more than a decade ago, and you two had to have been around six years old. At the time, you and Riki had gotten into an argument while having a play date at his house. His mom had gotten annoyed with the bickering, so she made you two hold hands until you got along. As the cherry on top, she’d made you two take a picture.

The photo was dated “17-07-2012” at the bottom with shaky handwriting. It was more likely than not Riki’s handwriting at the time.

Riki leaned over and smiled at the photo, “I remember that like it was yesterday. I hated you so much in that moment.”

“You’re acting like it wasn’t your fault that we were fighting,” you scoffed, laughing, “because it most definitely was. You got dirt on my favorite pair of pants and then laughed when I got mad.”

“It was funny!” Riki protested to you, then leaning over to flip the page.

The next photo that caught your eye was yet another photo of you two, this time around nine or ten years old. Riki had just finished a dance recital, and you’d attended with your mother. He was still in his dance outfit and was holding flowers in one hand, side hugging you with his other arm. Your arm was also wrapped around him, smiling for the picture. Riki’s eyes, however, weren’t looking at the camera. His head was ever so slightly turned to look at you.

“That outfit is horrible,” Riki laughed, “I look so dumb.”

“No,” you glared at him, “you look cute.”

“You can hardly even see my face!”

You smiled, “Yeah, you’re looking at me. I guess I was the cute one at the time.”

“You’ve always been the cute one out of us.”

You had to fight the urge for your eyes to grow the size of saucers at his off-handed comment. The silence that followed was loud. Yet still, you turned another couple of pages.

“Holy shit,” you gasped, “I forgot about this.”

The picture you’d landed on this time was a photo of you and Riki before your middle school dance. Neither of you had dates, so you just went as each other’s ‘date’. You were both around thirteen, and awkward as teens are at that age.

You cringed at yourself, “Jesus, who let me leave the house like that?”

Riki giggled, “We both look awkward as hell. You’d never guess from these pictures that we’d been best friends for forever at that point.”

“Crazy that I was still friends with you after that night. I cried so hard when I got home from that dance.”

“What?!” Riki exclaimed, turning to you, “You’ve never told me this.”

“Yeah,” you laughed nostalgically, “dude, I had the hugest crush on you back then. I saw you talk to Yamada Kaede that night and literally threw up in the bathroom because I knew she had a crush on you.”

“You did??” Riki almost yelled.

“Yes,” you said, placing the photo book down, “how did you have zero clue? I feel like I was so obvious.”

Riki furrowed his eyebrows, “Well, obviously not. And for the record, I hated Kaede. I thought she was annoying.”

“Well, nonetheless,” you continued, “that was why I left early that night. I called my mom in the bathroom and started crying as soon as she picked me up.”

“How have you never told me this?” Riki replied, “I feel so confused. You do know I had a crush on you too, right?”

You laughed, “You’re just saying that so I’ll get off your back about this. Just to let you know, I got over this when I was like fifteen.”

“No,” he said, “I’m serious. I looked awkward in that photo because I didn’t know how to react to going to the dance with you.”

You squinted at him, opening the book again, “Liar.”

A silence fell upon the both of you as you flipped through more pages.

Riki inhaled as if he was going to say something, but nothing came out.

You finally found another nostalgic picture in the back of the book: a photo of the first time you’d seen Riki since he’d gone to Korea. The photo was dated “30-06-2022”: right before the release of their Manifesto album.

“I’ve never seen this picture before,” you said, nudging Riki, “who took this?”

He looked over, “I think maybe Jake? Or a staff?”

“God,” you laughed, “we’re stuck together like glue.”

In the photo, you had yourself wrapped around Riki’s torso, and his arms were wrapped around what he could grab of you, even if you were substantially shorter than him. You remember the day clearly: going to his music video shoot to surprise him with a gift, which was his favorite snack from home and a letter you’d written him. When you saw him, you’d cried so hard that he had to change his outfit because of the makeup stain you’d left.

“Yeah,” he said, reminiscing, “missed me much?”

“More than you knew.” You admitted, not even aware of what you’d said before it came out of your mouth.

“What next,” he teased, “you’re gonna tell me you had a huge crush on me then, too? And that’s why you cried?”

“Unfortunately for your fantasy, I didn’t. I did cry, however, because you are my best friend and I did miss you.”

Riki became a bit more serious, “Did you ever have a crush on me at any other point?”

“Dude,” you laughed, “your ego is so inflated right now.”

“No, I’m serious,” he said, “like, don’t you think it’s funny that we liked each other at the same time and nothing happened?”

“Well,” you started, “to be fair, we were both kids. I don’t think anything would’ve happened. I especially hated you when you talked to Kaede, so I’m 100% sure that nothing was going to happen. I didn’t talk to you for a week, remember?”

“I do.” Riki thought for a second, “That may have been the worst week of my life.”

Pushing him, you sarcastically replied, “You’re funny.”

“I wasn’t joking though.”

A heavy silence stretched itself upon you two for longer than you would’ve liked. The gravity of the situation circled around the two of you, like you’d been talking around the same thing yet not quite reaching a point of addressing the elephant in the room.

Riki decided to break the silence first, “Did you know I cried when you went back home after that week that you visited me here? It basically broke my heart to remember that you couldn’t stay in Korea with me.”

Seeing as you didn’t respond, he continued.

“You’ve been the only constant in my life that hasn’t been family, Y/N. I cried to the members after you left because I was hit with the harsh reality that even though you had always been there for me, we were at a point then where we couldn’t be there for each other physically.”

You felt the breath catch in your throat. You trained your eyes on the photo, scared to look at Riki.

“I don’t know if this is a bad time to talk like this, but ever since you told me you were moving to Korea for college, my life has felt so different. Sure, I got everything I wanted when I debuted; I got to have my dream job, get famous, everything any person would ever want. But I still felt empty, knowing I couldn’t share this life with you of all people. The members are great to spend time with, but they aren’t you.”

You relaxed a bit, “I came here for you, you know that.”

“I figured,” he laughed, the atmosphere lightening up, “but I have to tell you something. As my best friend, can you be judgement-free this time?”

You stiffened a bit, remembering back to the girl that Riki said he had feelings for. Your worst nightmare could possibly come true: him cutting you out because she wasn’t comfortable with him having a female best friend.

“Of course.”

Riki shifted in his spot, nearly turning completely to face you. He grabbed the photo book from your hands and placed it to the side, simultaneously grabbing your hand that was practically drenched with sweat. He grimaced a bit before laughing, “Why are you sweaty?”

“I’m an anxious person,” you whined, “now can you please get on with your story. The suspense is literally going to give me a heart attack.”

“Okay, sorry,” he laughed, a fond look on his face, “but anyway. I-”

His breath became shaky.

“You moving here changed my life. I can’t risk losing you again. Even if we talked every day over the phone, it wasn’t the same as seeing you in person, or coming over to eat the food in your fridge.”

You chuckled at him, a smile forming.

“I have to tell you something personal.”

You nodded, looking into his eyes, which seethed with desperation and want.

“You know earlier when I told you that I had a huge crush on you as a kid?” He asked, looking away for a second.

“Yeah…” you trailed off, scared for what was going to come out of his mouth next.

“I… I never stopped,” Riki’s eyes darted back to yours, “I need to tell you this now, because I feel like something has changed. I couldn’t sleep last night. All I could think about was the way that you’d jumped nearly into my arms during the movie last night, and how bad I wanted to just… I don’t know… grab you. Hold you, I guess.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

Riki squeezed your hand as he continued, “I think I’m in love with you. I think I’ve been trying not to be for years, but I think- no, I know I am. Completely. And I hate how long it took for me to come to terms with it.”

You gulped, nodding to him.

“I… I hoped so.”

You both quietly laughed at yourselves, being fools in love in secret for so long.

“I feel like it was more obvious from my end,” you said, “I mean, I literally threw up at the sight of you and another girl.”

Riki smiled and nodded, “I always knew you wanted me deep down.”

“You’re such a prick,” you glared at him, “but you’re right. I always did.”

A more comfortable silence fell onto the two of you, awkwardly avoiding eye contact at the newfound confessions.

“So…” you started, “what now?”

Riki smiled largely to himself, “Can you be my girlfriend finally?”

“I’d love to.”

Riki cheered loudly and proceeded to crush you in a hug, “I’ve wanted to do that for so long!”

You laughed in his arms before he grabbed your face and kissed you, catching you by surprise.

“Riki!” You exclaimed, shocked.

“Sorry,” he cowered, “I wanted to do that for so long. I got excited.”

You fought off a smile before replying, “At least let me kiss you back before you pull away.”

The kiss was soft, yet bled with desperation from years of hidden feelings. Riki held your face in his hands like you were glass and could break at any moment. When you both pulled away, he placed his forehead on yours, trying to fight off the biggest smile.

You laughed at his attempt.

Riki grabbed the photo book once more, flipping back to the page with the picture of the school dance. Pointing to himself, he exclaimed, “He would be so proud of me right now.”

Giggling to yourself, you sat back onto the wall.

“Good to know I threw up that night for nothing.”

a/n : hai

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yan-randomfandom · 8 months ago

Note

yandere viktor with an innocent and naive reader but with magical abilities, where the reader knows how to use simple magic like conjuring plants or controlling water... ((the reader only knows the basics of magic, since no one taught it and this magic would be the only one so far who knows how to do it, and the reader was a little scared of being in a rush or being studied like a lab rat because she has magic, but she confided her secret to Viktor...)) Why do you do that?

Y!Viktor x GN!Mage!Reader

a/n: posting this before act 2 omg, i think i need a rewatch — btw this one only has very light yandere undertones,, ..erm

🫧 ;

"Psst. Hey, want to know a secret?"

Viktor blinked. His eyes followed the moving reflection on the iridescent river. Your figure was mirrored in the water, an unreadable expression on your face.

... He looked up, alarmed. Were you talking to him? Viktor didn't even know you.

You met his amber eyes. For whatever reason, on the edge of the cliff just above the water, you folded your legs against your chest and buried half your face in your arms.

"Well?" you pushed, voice muffled.

His mouth opened, then closed. Viktor nodded wordlessly instead.

" ... Promise me you won't tell anyone."

Without a moment's hesitation, the young boy nodded again.

He watched as you stood up and jumped steadily into the river, splashing him and his mechanical boat. A low, frustrated groan escaped him as water seeped into his clothes.

"Oh, sorry," you said as he tried to wipe the water from his face. "Let me get that for you."

Suddenly, Viktor felt his weight gradually become less unpleasant—almost refreshing, even, as if the water slid across and away from his skin and clothes.

That's when he saw it.

A small blob of water, floating in the air. It moved carefully like it was fragile.

Then came another, and another. Small specks came together until it formed one single bubble.

Abruptly, it dropped in the river. Like nothing ever happened. Viktor's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Cool, right?" you grinned. He looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, his jaw gaping. One of your hands was lifted, fingers poised in a manner of delicacy.

"You," Viktor finally spoke, stammering, his breathing ragged. "You did that? Was that... magic?"

You chuckled, settling yourself beside him. He turned to you, scooting over to make room, and met your steady gaze. “I think so. But I was serious when I said never, ever tell anyone.”

He shook his head, utterly appalled. "Is this some sort of trick?"

"I wish—"

“This is not funny,” he snarled, his demeanor shifting completely, catching you off guard. “If you’re just here to get a reaction out of me, I’d advise you and your friends to leave. Please.”

You frowned, standing up with your fists clenched. “No, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m so sorry! And I don’t… even have friends.”

Viktor searched your face.

There's nothing to suggest a lie. He's observant, and he quietly prides himself over it, but this is one of the few cases where he genuinely starts to doubt his judgment.

"But," you sighed, turning away. "I'll leave if that's what you want. Apologies."

...

"... Wait."

— 🌱

The leaves of the seedling barely moved.

"Aw," you chuckled, dropping your arm to your side. Who knew conjuring plant powers could be so draining? "Well, I tried. Let's take a break!"

He let out a choked noise, pausing his writing. "We barely started! How is it that whenever you get to try something new and amazing, you avoid it?”

...

You didn't respond immediately.

Viktor put down his notebook, looking back at you, who was blankly staring at him.

"I guess I'm... scared?" you said, tilting your head. To his surprise, you gently grabbed his hand, running your thumb across his palm.

His face warmed. He physically couldn't say or do anything.

"You're the only one who knows about this, Vik," you muttered, your eyes fixed on his rough skin. "I sprung this on you when we were kids, which is kind of hilarious, by the way, but I had a reason. In my mind, you were the only one who would understand."

He thought so, too.

Viktor couldn’t stop himself from slipping his fingers between yours. It was a good thing you weren’t looking at him—otherwise, you might’ve seen how red his face had become.

"And you told me no one will believe me," he said, and while the memory was of you giving him a serious warning, his tone was filled with nothing but endearment.

"I still stand by that," you laughed, pulling your hand away from his, much to his disappointment. You still hadn't glance at his face. He mentally scolded himself for almost hoping you would see his expression. "Especially with our age now. They'll just think you're crazy."

"I understand," he chuckled, turning away. "About that break... you want to go to our usual?"

A smile curled your lips. "Yes, please!"

— 💌

Viktor said he has a surprise for you.

Admittedly, you're feeling extremely anxious. He grew up to become a researcher, an inventor—facts that don’t surprise you.

As his best friend, a person able to do magic, while absolutely shitty at it, you know he sees you as someone with massive potential. Literally. No one else in Piltover or Zaun is known to do this. Maybe in a hundred years—who knows? You didn't even have a proper education.

...

Viktor cleared his throat. "I've been offered a position in the University of Piltover."

You froze. The letter in his fingers bore the university’s wax seal in the center, bold and unmistakable.

“Holy shit,” you blurted, your eyes darting between him and the letter. “Holy shit!”

Jumping over to Viktor, you wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace. The biggest, most triumphant smile tugged at your lips. He staggered a little, but you were too wrapped up in your happiness to notice.

"Language," he laughed, hugging you back.

You snickered. "I'm so proud of you! Words can't even begin to express how happy I am for you!"

Pulling back, your hands still rested on his shoulders. Your smile relaxed ever so slightly as your eyes gazed into his softer ones.

"I knew you could do it," you exhaled.

A small pause.

Viktor had a look. Oh, shit. What’s that smirk for?

"...You're not done," you accused, raising an eyebrow.

He lifted the letter in his hand. "I have not accepted yet."

Now, your brows knitted together in utter confusion.

"... Why not—?"

"I said I won't be going unless they let me bring a plus one."

You smile faltered, denial crossing your face. He noticed it. Did he just say what you thought you heard him say?

"Are you saying...?" Your expression shifted into worry; you didn't quite understand his point.

"I want you to come with me," Viktor said, grabbing your hand and placing the letter in your palm. "To Piltover."

Oh, no. You didn't mean to.

You panicked, pulling away, the letter slipping from your hand.

Viktor's brows furrowed. He thought you'd be happier about the news.

Then, he looked around.

It had rained just before he decided to share the news. Some raindrops were still fresh, glistening from the downpour.

And around your figure, small droplets rose into the air. The air is thick with tension.

"Viktor. You're not giving me to them, are you...?"

Defeated. That's how your voice sounded.

"Of course not," he hushed, pushing you onto a chair. "Never. Please calm down. Let me explain."

You obliged, sitting down. He sat beside you.

"I'm sorry," you spoke first, meeting his eyes. "It's not that I don't trust you. Heck, I trust you more than anyone. The thought of going up there... it just makes me anxious."

"I understand," Viktor nodded. He turned his head. "However, I promise you, I won’t let them take you away from me. You’ll be solely under my care. But I do know someone who’s willing to help us."

Viktor. So compassionate and filled with empathy. You admired him for those very reasons, not just for his brilliance. His presence feels like a whole other world to you—someone who could help you understand your abilities. Perhaps the only chance you have to truly learn who, or what you are.

"I'll be a burden."

"No. Of course not. I want you by my side."

You hesitated. Despite your family being clueless about your ability, they were still the people you cared for. You still had a life in the undercity.

"And if I refuse...?"

Viktor took a moment to respond. The thought of leaving you hurt his heart.

"You... I believe you don't have much of a choice."

You couldn't explain why, but you found it in yourself to wholeheartedly believe him.

— 💜

zamn

critique is welcome btw

#yan writes #yandere arcane #viktor arcane #yandere #yandere arcane x reader #viktor x reader #yandere viktor x reader #mage anon

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staytrueblue · 9 months ago

Text

Lavender & Whiskey

You were his sweet wife. All florals and lavender scents, homemade lunches, gentle kisses. You hummed sweetly as you folded laundry and always stayed up to greet him even when he would be home late. You were completely untouched from the roughness of his world. Now you were here at the base dropping off his newly cleaned and ironed uniforms, a task he never required of you, when it happened.

Oh another Price? How much she worth John?

The American laughed..a disgusting hacking sound echoed around you as you hunched into yourself, cheeks burning.

Price noticed the way you shifted away from the man, and felt his hackles rise.

You watched as the husband that greeted his wife with a bended neck and soft tone rose into his full height as Captain.

The man shrunk as Captain Prices voice rumbled from his chest, tearing out of him in a bark.

“Apologize.”

Heads turned in the hall toward the command but he did not see them. Eyes dark and chest out he rose over the man like death himself.

The man whose jaw was stuck open in a gasp of fear.

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh come on soldier you can do better than that.” The Captain mocked, taking a step closer to him. “Look my lady in the eye, call her by my name, and apologize.”

The comforting arm of your husband wrapped around you, his large hand holding your waist and hip squeezing protectively. You found yourself leaning in the warmth, look up at your love as his jaw tensed and released, eyes ordering obedience.

The man’s dull blue eyes shifted to you.

“I’m sorry Mrs. Price.”

“For?” Price prompted in a growl.

“For….”

The Americans eyes flicked up to the Captain for a moment as if checking for approval.

“For…erm…calling you a whore?”

The only warning you got was his grip firmly tightening on your waist, keeping you in one place as his fist reached out in a perfect right hook, crashing into the man’s face, knocking him to the ground.

You watched, eyes wide as your gentle giant of a husband rose again to his full height, glaring at the crumpled yet breathing unconscious lump on the floor.

Cupping your chin gently he turned your face up to him, away from the sight. His knuckles already swelling and red, he tilted your chin, looking you in the eye.

“You all right, love?”

#fem reader #captain John price #reader x john price #John price x reader #Drabble #blues drabbles

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thestrangepoet · 9 months ago

Text

The Ninth Life | The Magnus Archives One Shot

Based on @ultramarinaa's Cat!Martin AU, and not upon @coworkerjonathan's soul-destroying tragic version of it. If you want that version, it's here.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Buttocks-clenchingly sweet fluff.

DISCLAIMER: I, once again, wrote this in an hour and haven't proofread it. Forgive the typos and any “first draft” vibes.

UPDATE: 30/04/25: Now available on AO3!

──── •✧• ────

[CLICK]

Oop, yup, it’s on! Right, erm…This is Martin Blackwood, Archival Assistant at the Magnus Institute. I thought it would be a good idea to—

[A VERY LOUD, VERY RASPY HISSING CUTS MARTIN OFF]

[A LONG, WEIGHTY PAUSE FOLLOWS; SOMEONE IS BEING GLARED AT]

What? I-I mean, given the absolute palaver we just went through, shouldn’t we record what happened and how we fixed it?

[SILENCE FOLLOWS. BUT MARTIN EVIDENTLY GETS HIS ANSWER]

Exactly! Right, so…ah-hem. This is Martin Bla—

[ONCE AGAIN, A LOUD HISS]

What? What is wrong with—No, Jon, you’re going to hit the—!

[CLICK]

[MARTIN RUFFLES SOME PAPERS, THEN EXHALES LOUDLY THROUGH HIS NOSE. WHEN HE SPEAKS THIS TIME, IT’S SOMEWHAT TAUT]

Statement of Martin Blackwood, Archival Assistant at the Magnus Institute, London, regarding an encounter with a feline-based Leitner book called The Ninth Life. Recorded by subject, October 17th, 2017.

Happy now?

[LOUD PURRING NEAR THE TAPE RECORDER SIGNIFIES THAT MARTIN HAS INDEED DONE A PASSABLE JOB]

Good, good. Right, oop! Yeah, okay, you can…sit on my lap while I record this. That’s not…that’s not weird at all. Knowing you’re…you’re Jon.

…You could at least sit like a cat, Jon. No, no, no, don’t get the claws out, it’s fine! Sit how you want! Heh…K-keeping an eye on me, hmm? While I record? Oh, r-right, yeah, ‘Get on with it, Martin’, noted!

So…about ten weeks ago, I came across a book while tidying through some of the old statement boxes. I’m not sure why it wasn’t in the library or in Artefact Storage, but I suppose that’s a mystery for another time. A-anyway, I had a flick through to try to figure out what it was. Could have just been a normal book, you know? E-especially since it wasn’t put away properly, I mean, really, that’s a health and safety risk that wasn’t my fault, and—Ow! Claws!

R-right, ‘Stay on the subject, Martin’, loud and clear…

Where was I? O-oh, right. So I took it through to the break room, sat down with it, flicked through, read a few…err, well, ten pages to be precise, and basically, it was written like an old fairy tale. Something about a man who turned into a cat to get away from everyone and…W-well, what I’m trying to say is that it didn’t seem like a Leitner!

I’d probably have finished reading the whole thing, but the microwave dinging made me jump and look up. No one usually uses the microwave outside of lunch hours, but Jon actually makes cups of tea by microwaving mugs of water and then—Ah-ah-ow! N-no, I’m not getting claw-bullied into not telling people the heinous way you make tea, Jon!

Right, right, fine! Yes, so, microwave dings, I look up from the book, and…I drop the book. And I drop to the floor, a-and the book’s suddenly huge, and there’s Jon, and he’s looking at me, and…

…and I was a cat. I-I-I guess Jon hadn’t noticed me in the break room before putting his mug in the microwave, because he didn’t realise I was me. Next thing I know, I’m being picked up, held over his shoulder, petted and cooed at and—Owwww, claws, claws! Right, okay, no, no one can know Jonathan Sims has a heart, right you are!

E-erm, so…Yeah. Panicked a bit. I-I tried to make it obvious to the others that it was me, but they just didn’t cotton on. And I couldn’t read the book to figure out if the ending would tell me how to turn back. O-or if I even would turn back. Honestly, in any other situation, I-I might have been really terrified, but it’s hard to keep worrying when people are suddenly stroking you and giving you all this affection. Heh, Jon even named me Champion.

But, right, I-I really needed to turn back into a human. You know, as lovely as it was to be liked by everyone, I figured, well, it’s deeply unprofessional to turn into a cat at work, isn’t it? And I really didn’t want to be written up for unauthorised absences when I was technically in the room?

It took a while – I don’t know who moved it, but the book had gone when I managed to slink back into the break room, had to wait for someone to open the door for me, you see – but I eventually found The Ninth Life again.

It took ages to drag it over to Jon’s desk. And even longer for him to stop laughing and telling me what dedicated little chap I was. He picked up the book though, and I got so excited that someone would finally realise a Leitner was in play that I jumped up onto his desk and…

…and I…erm…I knocked his cup of tea over the book.

I could feel my heart sinking. What if I’d ruined it? What if the answer was all smudged up? Jon could tell I was upset, and he started trying to pet me and calm me down, mopping up the tea and everything. Took a while before he got back to the book, and, well…the bookplate had been smeared by the spilt tea, I guess, because he didn’t see any mention of Leitner at the front. He started reading the book, and I tried to nudge him to read the back pages first, to get to the answer before the book could turn him into a cat, but he, erm…well, he read it. Five pages, we think.

And there he was.

One minute, Jon’s at his desk, the next, there’s a little black cat with too many scars sitting in his chair.

Well, after he’d stopped hissing, running around the room – Tim thought he had zoomies, ha ha! – and bapping me on the head every time I got close, he realised who I was.

And then, he bapped me on the head again.

So. We were both cats! And it’s so funny, because in the office, Tim and Sasha and me, we all say how Jon gives off major black-cat energy? He’s like this poor wet cat in human form, and now that he was a cat, and it turned out, he is…w-well, he’s not very good at being a cat?

[A LOUD HISS – EVIDENTLY, MARTIN HAS FORGOTTEN JON IS SITTING THERE]

Don’t hiss at me! You know it’s true. I mean, look, you’re literally sitting in my lap now like a human. Cats don’t do that, Jon! It looks weird!

R-right, okay, let’s, erm, get on with the story – ah, statement, statement! – before I get scratched again.

S-so, right, Jon wasn’t really getting the hang of being a cat. He kept clambering up onto desks to type on keyboards, trying to tell Tim what was happening. He wouldn’t even jump up onto the desks, he would literally shimmy up the leg like he was climbing a tree. And, yeah, he doesn’t sit in your lap like a cat, all curled up, no no, he sits…like a person sits. So I figured actually, this was pretty good, someone had to realise something was up with this cat that just wasn’t catting.

But no. No, no, Tim just laughed and named Jon Skrunkly and got on with his day.

[A LONG, LOW MIAOW OF CONTEMPT IN THE BACKGROUND]

Nooo! You’re not skrunkly at all, Jon! You’re a very handsome little kitty!

[A HISS]

Right, right! Back to work! Erm, yeah, so, there I am, trying to teach Skr–err, Jon how to act more like a cat. Not because it would help get us back to normal, but because I was worried? He kept falling off stuff, not landing on his feet…jumping and missing things…He was having a really hard time, and I figured if we were stuck like this indefinitely, it might help to, you know…teach him a bit?

And then, one day, he just…vanished. I wandered in one morning from the canteen, ‘cause Sasha had snuck me a plate of milk, and I couldn’t find Jon anywhere. Tim realised pretty quickly that something was up, that I wouldn’t settle down, and then he noticed Skrun–err, Jon, was missing.

It took days for me to sniff him out. Which is…a really weird thing to say out loud. On record. Erm. I sniffed my boss out. But it’s insane, as a cat, the difference in senses, a-and to be honest, my eyesight was dreadful because I obviously couldn’t wear my glasses. A-anyway, sniffed him out, and realised he had somehow fallen into the tunnels through the trapdoor? Which is weird as well, ‘cause the trapdoor is always closed. No one would have opened it?

[ANOTHER LOW MIAOW, BUT THIS ONE SOUNDS STRANGELY LIKE SKRUNKLY IS TRYING TO SPEAK – IT ALMOST SOUNDS LIKE HE’S SAYING ‘SASHA!’]

I know, Jon, you’ll tell us when you, erm, get back.

So, now I knew where he was, I went into full hyperkitty mode. I was zooming around, miaowing, pawing, jumping on Tim, jumping at Tim, launching myself off bookshelves, you name it! Somehow, I managed to get the message across, and Tim went to open the trapdoor.

I…I hate going into the tunnels. I really, really hate it. But Jon was down there, and as far as we knew, he’d been down there with no food and water for days! So, down I jumped, with Tim clambering after me telling me to slow down. I kept sniffing, and it was actually pretty easy to find him after that!

There he was, curled up and shaking near a wall, and I ran towards him, miaowing my head off so he knew we were coming to the rescue, and…

And I…changed back. Right there. Just pop! There I was.

Tim, erm…Tim screamed. Jon hissed and nearly ran away. It was chaos, and…I’m actually surprised all three of us made it out. Especially with Jon going wild on Tim and clawing him every time he tried to pick him up. What was that about, anyway, we were helping you!

[ANOTHER GRUMBLING MIAOW – DID SKRUNKLY SEE SOMETHING IN THE TUNNELS? OR SOMEONE? WAS HE TRYING TO TELL THEM?]

We got back up to the office, Jon in tow, and now that I could speak, Tim, Sasha and I managed to hash out a theory.

Basically, we figure that there are a lot of Leitner books that kind of do different things depending on how much you read of them. S-so we have one on record, A Disappearance, if you read one line, you disappear for a bit. But, if you read the whole book, you disappear from the world for good.

I read ten pages of The Ninth Life, and I was a cat for ten weeks. Checks out! So we reckon Jon read about five pages, and it’s been three weeks, so…two weeks of Skrunkly to go!

Right, think that’s it. Yeah! So, erm, if you’re looking for a cure for The Ninth Life, just enjoy your time as a kitty and wait it out! U-unless you read the whole book, in which case, erm…I-I really hope you enjoy your life as a cat.

End recor–Ow! What did I miss off this time?

[SEVERAL LIGHT THUDS SOUND]

Why are you pawing the book, Jon? I…oh. Right.

Erm…I think Jon wants it on record that, erm…the book is eleven pages long. And…and I read ten pages.

[THUD-THUD-THUD!]

Yes, yes, all right, you microwaving your tea saved me from an eternity as a cat! That does not mean I am going to let you continue to ruin perfectly good cups of tea like that!

[A LOUD MIAOW OF PROTEST. MARTIN SIGHS]

Recording ends.

[CLICK]

#tma cats #cat!martin #tma fanfic #the poet's writings

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thewritingrowlet · 5 months ago

Text

The Blank Slate, ft. Kep1er Chaehyun

tags: creampie

length: 8k+

author's note: This one was inspired by an AI chat bot I stumbled upon.

“Alright, I think that’s enough for today; we will continue next time.”

The people in front of you have been exhausted from working all day, so the fact that you’ve called off the meeting is like music to their ears. “We will see you tomorrow morning, sir.” You shake your head. “I don’t know when I’ll get here tomorrow., Mr. Kim,” you say. You notice the way he lets out a sigh, seemingly in relief. “Of course, sir.”

People start leaving their seats one by one with their gadgets in their hands. “Oh, director,” Mr. Kim turns around again, “happy birthday to your wife.” You smile. “I will tell her that, Mr. Kim—thank you.” He looks sympathetic, and you’re thankful for his kindness. “Go home to your wife, Mr. Kim; tell her you love her with every cell in your body,” you say to him as he walks away. He smiles and nods. “Will do, sir.”

You find yourself walking through the quiet and cold hallway of the hospital to reach your wife’s room.

You gently open the door. “I’m home, love.”

It’s true. This hospital room has been your home for almost the entirety of the past year. This room where your wife is lying dormant, uncertain when she will ever wake up again, is your home and will continue to be for God knows how long.

You look at her vital sign monitor; her heart is still beating steadily, and her blood pressure is still at acceptable levels.

You take a seat on the chair next to her bed. “Good evening, sweetheart,” you place your hand on hers. “I’m sorry, a meeting held me back.” You hear no response from her, but you’ve gotten used to this already. “You’d like to hear about the meeting, wouldn’t you?” You stay quiet for a moment, pretending to wait for her answer. “Well, you see, Mr. Kim had some ideas he wanted to share with me and the managers, so we sat down and had a long discussion—if it wasn’t for you, my love, I’d still be at the office with them.”

You continue telling her about your day until your mouth gets tired of talking. “I’ll get us some food, love; wait for me, alright?” You leave your seat to get some food from the bag you were carrying; today’s menu is spicy noodles with chicken katsu.

You place her food on the counter next to her bed and open the other one for yourself. The first bite sends you high to the sky. “Oh, this is amazing; no wonder you like this place so much.” Your mouth that is already full of noodles doesn’t stop you from shoving more into it. “The chicken is so juicy too, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

You finish your food in no time; you couldn’t have lunch today, so you’re very hungry tonight. “You liked that too, didn’t you, sweetie?” You leave your seat again to throw the empty container into the bin, and when you return—

Wait a minute.

Wait a damn minute.

Why are her eyes open?

“Hello?” Your wife’s eyes slowly move towards you. “Love? You’re awake?” Her eyebrows furrow. “Where… am I?” Your heart starts racing, excited by the fact that your wife has regained consciousness. “You’re at the hospital, love.” You quickly return to your chair. “You’ve been at the hospital for nearly a year now.”

“Who… are you?”

Your heart cracks—does she really not recognize her husband?

“I-I’m your husband.” The shock has you stuttering. “Do you, erm, do you not remember me?” She stays silent. “You’re my… husband?” You rush towards your bag to get some proof for her. “Look, love; I have some documents here.” Your wife squints as she tries to read the paper through the clear sheet protector. “Marriage… paper?”

Your wife places a finger on her name. “Who is that?”

Your heart shatters—has she lost her memories?

“T-that’s you, love; y-you’re Kim Chaehyun.”

Chaehyun looks at the paper blankly. “I-I don’t know,” she says. “I-I don’t remember anything.”

Feeling weak, you drop onto the floor. Your mind is still stuck with the fact that she doesn’t remember anything. “Oh, God, no.” Your voice becomes smaller, devastated by the revelation. “I-I’m sorry, but I-I don’t know what’s happening,” she says.

You mindlessly slam your head against the steel frame of her bed. “W-what are you doing?” Chaehyun yelps when you slam your head again. “P-please stop—w-what are you doing?” You sigh. “This is all my fault—oh, God, please forgive me.”

Chaehyun asks that you get on your feet, so you do just that. “Y-you said you’re my husband, right?” You nod weakly. “H-how long have we been married?” You sigh deeply. “A little over four years.”

“Then hug me, l-love.”

You bend down to hug her as she wishes, and the two of you break into tears. “I-I’m so sorry; I-I just don’t know.” You shake your head. “It’s okay; none of this is your fault.” You try pulling away from the embrace, but she doesn’t let you. “P-please, just stay with me,” she begs.

You haven’t heard her cry in months, but the sound hurts the same way it used to, if not worse. “L-love,” you hear her say. “A-are you angry—p-please don’t be angry.” “No, I’m not angry,” you assure her.

You ask her to let you go for a second because you want to call a doctor or a nurse over to check on your wife, and before long, a nurse walks through the door. “Good—oh my goodness,” the nurse exclaims. “She has woken up?” You nod. “She’s lost her memories, I think.” The nurse’s eyes widen. “Are you sure?” You point at your wife, gesturing to the nurse to see for herself.

“Mrs. Kim,” the nurse calls to your sobbing wife. “Do you know where you are?” Chaehyun starts crying again. “P-please stop asking questions; I-I can’t answer them.” You place a hand on your wife’s shoulder to help her stay calm. “Of course, Mrs. Kim—look, I’ll be checking your physical conditions right now, okay?”

While the nurse checks on your wife, you decide to head to the toilet to refresh and clear your mind a bit. When you return, the nurse happens to be stepping out of the room. “Be patient with her, mister,” she says. “I will try my best,” you reply.

Chaehyun is looking around the interior of her room—she hasn’t seen any of it since she got here. "Hi, love,” you make sure your voice is gentle, “did the nurse say anything?” She nods a little. “She, erm, she said my muscles have gotten weaker, but I’ll get better with therapy.”

You drag the chair over closer to her bed again after noticing that the nurse moved it earlier. “You said you didn’t want to answer questions, love, but can I tell you about some stuff?” She nods. “My name is Kim Jaehwan, and yours is Kim Chaehyun,” you start. “We used to work in the same company, but obviously not anymore.”

Chaehyun looks at you intently, eager to hear more about the previous life she had with you. “We got married a year after we had started dating, and erm, we bought a house together in our second year of marriage.” She nods. “What else?” You take a few deep breaths as you think about some interesting things she’d like to hear. “Erm, we actually planned to repaint the house before you got hurt; we had discussed about the colors and things like that.” Your wife asks what the current color of the house is. “Well, the bedroom is still light gray, and the kitchen is… I don’t know, coral?”

Your wife turns her attention to the full moon that’s visible through the window. “Can we go outside?” You know there’s a wheelchair in this room, so you suggest having her sit in it while you push her around. “One second, sweetheart.” You help your wife sit in the wheelchair and hang her IV bag on the little pole attached to it. “We’ll make a stop at the nurse’s desk first, love.”

After reporting to the nurses that you’ll be taking her outside, you push the wheelchair towards the escalator. Before long, you find yourself strolling through the hospital’s park while pushing your wheelchair-bound wife.

“It’s cold,” your wife says, so you put your jacket over her to shield her from the night air. “Thank you.” Chaehyun blushes a peck land on the top of her head. “Did we, erm, touch a lot?” You chuckle. “Physical touch is our love language,” you remind her.

You park her wheelchair next to a bench and then take a seat on it. “What are we thinking, sweetheart?” She takes a few deep breaths, getting some fresh air into her system after spending many months in a room. “It’s great out here,” she says.

You ask if she’d like to go home within the next few days. “What is home to you, erm, love?” Her cheeks get hot; it feels very odd and awkward for her to call someone by that name. “Home is wherever you and I are,” you answer. Chaehyun is intrigued. “Really?” You nod. “That room you’ve been occupying this past year is my home, simply because we’re in it together.”

Chaehyun takes your hand in hers. “I want to go home—like, our home.” It is such a simple sentence, but your heart is warm, nonetheless. “We will, sweetheart; we’ll see if we can leave this place tomorrow.” “Wait,” she says. “What about your work?” You chuckle. “Only you deserve my time and attention—besides, it’s not like anyone can fire the director.”

With your arm wrapped around her, you guide her towards the front door of the house. “Do you want to try unlocking that?” Her eyes are locked on the little fingerprint scanner underneath the handle. “Go on; place your thumb on it, sweetheart.” Chaehyun does as you say, and her eyes widen when the lock unlatches. “T-this is—” “I’m not lying to you about anything, love.”

You want to take her to the bedroom, and when you ask if she’s down for it, she looks hesitant. “W-what bedroom?” You point at the brown door that’s visible from the living room. “That’s our safest place, love.” She trembles in nervousness. “S-something doesn’t feel right.”

You’re stunned; is there a chance that she remembers that night, even if it’s minimal?

“Please follow me for now, love; I promise I’ll get you up to speed.” Your words make her feel more uneasy, but still, she follows your direction without asking twice. Once inside, you help her get on the bed and join her on it right away.

You ask if you can hug her from behind like you used to, and since she says yes, you wrap your arms around her. “Love, I’ll tell you about everything that happened that night, okay?”

You start from the beginning where you and she had a fiery argument in this very bedroom. Mean words were that were flying out of your lips were like daggers, stabbing her gentle heart. Again, and again, and again. In the heat of the moment, you also said you would’ve been okay if she had filed a divorce.

Devastated by your attitude, Chaehyun stormed out of the house. She was so focused on the fight that she didn’t notice the speeding sedan coming from her left when she was crossing the street. The car hit her hard, thus sending her flying a few meters away from the spot of the impact. Due to the crash, her body bounced and rolled around on the hard asphalt, and at some point, her head got injured, hence the loss of memory.

“Like I said, sweetheart, it’s all my fault.” Chaehyun turns around to face you. “It’s a sad story, isn’t it?” You nod. “I’m willing to pay whatever price just to return to that night.” The smile on her face is gentle. “It’s always easy to look back in anger or sadness, but what is there to be done—is this not a new start for us?”

You’re getting goosebumps. Chaehyun is showing glimpses of her past self: the wise and loving woman you fell so deeply in love with.

“Yes, we can indeed start again,” you say. Chaehyun places a hand on your cheek again. “Promise me that you’ll be patient with me, love; I’m going to need you by my side.” You feel a surge of determination within you to make very good use of this opportunity. “I’ve learned my lessons, and I swear I won’t make the same mistakes.”

Chaehyun ties the vow by kissing you, and truthfully, you’re both excited and startled to see her take the initiative. “Husband and wife kiss all the time, right?” You chuckle. “Maybe not all of them, but we sure did.”

It appears that Chaehyun has found her fondness for kissing again as she pulls you closer for another one. “I… love you.” You shed a tear involuntarily; if there’s one thing you’ve been longing for, it’s hearing her say those three words. “I love you more, love—thank you for coming back.”

You proceed to ask if she can describe what her long sleep felt like. “I don’t know,” she says. “I didn’t feel anything in particular.” You guess that people who are in a coma don’t have dreams like ordinary sleeping people do.

“What about you, love—what were you up to when I was asleep?” You sigh. “Just working, really; I’ve been working a lot as a way to keep my head above water.” Speaking of work, Chaehyun asks if she used to be a workaholic, and you chuckle. “In around 3 years of working together, you’ve only done one overtime.” She giggles. “That sounds about right.”

You panic when you notice that your wife isn’t lying in bed with you, and your first instinct is to sprint out of the bedroom, fighting through sleepiness and exhaustion. You let out a sigh of relief when you see her sitting on the sofa.

“Good morning, love,” you greet her. “Good morning to you too, hubby.” She never used such a name for you before, and the newness makes you giddy. You join her on the sofa, and out of habit, you rest your head on her thighs. “Erm, did we do this often?” You slap your forehead for forgetting. “We did, love—uh, I like your thighs a lot.” Chaehyun blushes. “Y-you shouldn’t say something so vulgar.”

You’re about to drift back to sleep when Chaehyun asks for your attention. “Do we have a morning routine?” “Well, yes,” you say. “We used to have tea together in the morning.” A small smile appears on her face. “Who likes tea?” You point at her. “Oh, really?” You chuckle. “I like tea because of you, love.”

With her safely seated at the dining table, you open the pantry. You grab some boxes from it and place them on the table, giving Chaehyun the chance to choose. “What was my favorite?” Your heart sinks as realization hits: her favorite lychee tea expired around two months ago. “It was lychee, but erm, I had to throw it out because it was going bad.” She smiles. “That’s alright—I’m sure I’ll learn to like other things.”

Today’s tea of choice is strawberry apple, and after taking a small sip, Chaehyun beams. “This is lovely,” she says. You smile. “I liked that tea because it was one of your favorites.” She scratches her head. “The more I listen to you, the more I get curious about my past.” You assure her that you don’t need her to remember (or even become) her old self; she’s still your wife whom you love the most, even if she ends up becoming a different person than before. “You’re sweet,” she praises you.

You ask if she wants to shower, but she declines—Chaehyun wants you to give her a tour of the house first. “We can finish at the bathroom,” she says.

You start from the front of the house because there’s a handful of thoughtful and well-planned details there. “You were quite… insistent about those flowers.” She giggles. “I mean, don’t you think they look pretty?” Chaehyun hops in front of the pots. “Which one is the flower, love?” You burst out laughing. “You’re no flower, love; you’re my light in this world.” Your wife’s grin is replaced by a blush. “Oh, you’re making me weak.”

The tour continues to the interior of the house. You point out to her which furniture was her choice and which was yours. “Whose idea it was to hang that painting there? “It wasn’t an idea, per se; it was a gift from your parents, so we had to put that somewhere.” Your wife asks where her parents are. “They passed away shortly after you had gone into coma.” Chaehyun promptly wraps her arms around you to seek comfort. “I’m sorry, love, but between you and them, there was nothing else I could’ve done.” She nods. “I’m sure you’ve done all you could.”

You ask if she still wants to continue considering the sudden change of mood. Chaehyun confirms that she does want to keep going, so you show her around the house, explaining the choice of details as you go. “It sounds like we put a lot into this house.” You nod. “We spent so much time planning and finding the stuff we wanted and needed.”

Just like you two agreed upon earlier, you’re ending the tour at the bathroom. “Last stop, love,” you say as you turn the handle. Chaehyun’s jaw drops when she sees the insides. “What the heck is all this?” You chuckle. “That bidet was your choice—everything else was mine,” you say. Chaehyun nudges you lightly with her elbow. “You’re pretty good at choosing things, aren’t you, love?”

Chaehyun takes a seat on the toilet which lid she has opened, and you take a knee in front of her. “We’ve been laughing a lot today, but life isn’t always so smooth, so please promise me that you’ll be patient and kind with me.” You take her hands in yours as you prepare to make your promise. “In every night I spent at the hospital with you, I wished I hadn’t broken your heart, so believe me when I say that I will work on becoming the man you deserved in the first place.”

Once again, the vow is tied with a kiss. “I love you, and I trust you,” she whispers. “I love you more, cookie.” Chaehyun giggles. “Cookie? Do I look edible?” Your mind directly goes to the old, dirty joke the two of you used to have about being edible, but you’re promptly reminded about the current situation. “I mean, you’re as sweet as a cookie,” you divert to a different answer.

You make to leave the bathroom so Chaehyun can take a shower, but before she lets you go, she asks if the two of you have ever taken a shower together in the past. “Of course, love; we’d always shower together after sex.” She breaks eye contact, trying to hide her red cheeks. “Ah, sex—of course we had sex.” You chuckle. “I mean, we’re legally-wed husband and wife”

Chaehyun needs to move her muscles to combat the muscle atrophy from her comatose, so you ask if she’s down to walk to get breakfast out. “Where will you take me, though?” You list a few breakfast spots the two of you have liked before, and she asks if you two can have breakfast at more than one spot. “Of course we can,” you say.

You help your wife get dressed, and since it’s quite cold today, you make sure she’s dressed comfortably. You can’t hide nor erase the smile on your face; it’s amazing to finally be able to see your wife in front of you again instead of lying in that hospital bed. “Erm, do I look weird?” You shake your head. “No, of course not—if anything, I think you look great.” Chaehyun blushes again, still not used to receiving praise. “Okay, I-I think we should go now.”

With her arm wrapped around yours, you begin making your way to the first spot (that is also the closest from the house) which Chaehyun used to love for their breakfast noodle soup. Instead of going straight at the intersection to head to the restaurant, you make a left turn. “I’m going to show you something first,” you say.

You drag Chaehyun into a small alley behind a convenience store, and you can tell she’s confused. “We had our first kiss in this alley,” you explain. She chuckles. “Why here, though—surely there were better places to have a first kiss in.” You laugh. “Sure, but you chose this place.” Chaehyun slaps her forehead while laughing. “I was so bad at thinking on the fly, wasn’t I?”

After the small tour, you get back on track and head to the noodle restaurant. The owner’s jaw drops when she sees you entering the place with Chaehyun. “She’s woken up?” You grin, unable to hide the joy on your face. “She sure has, Mrs. Oh.” Once again, Chaehyun is confused, but that doesn’t stop her from letting Mrs. Oh hug her. “Get anything you want—it’s on the house today.” It looks like Mrs. Oh is as happy as you are to have Chaehyun back. “Oh, please, that’s—” “No, I’m not taking arguments!”

Once seated, Chaehyun asks what kind of relationship the two of you had with the owner of the noodle place. “We used to have breakfast here at least twice a week.” You chuckle when you remember a particular detail. “We went here in the morning after we had our first sex,” you whisper to her. She slaps your shoulder lightly. “Can you please stop talking about sex?”

You haven’t ordered yet, but Mrs. Oh is already on her way with a tray of food in her hands. “You’re always down for the old favorite, aren’t you?” “Oh, absolutely,” you say. You help Mrs. Oh organize food on the table, and you notice the way Chaehyun’s eyes widen, seemingly intrigued by what’s in front of her. “Just holler if you need anything else,” Mrs. Oh says as she leaves your table.

“Whoa, what the heck is this?” Chaehyun looks at her bowl attentively. “They look good, don’t you think?” She nods. “I just know this is going to be so good,” she says. Your wife wastes little time to start digging into the noodles, and you swear you just hear a moan. “Oh, yeah, this is amazing,” she says.

It’s very heart-warming to see Chaehyun live life with such joyfulness after spending months seeing her stuck in a hospital bed. The thought alone is enough to make your eyes teary, and before you know it, a stray tear has flowed onto your cheek.

“Thank you for coming back, seriously,” you grip her free hand tightly, “you don’t know how much I’ve missed you.” Despite being startled initially, Chaehyun puts down her utensils so she can hold your hands. “Let’s live each and every day like it’s our last, love—we don’t know how long we can love each other like this.”

Her words shatter whatever semblance of control you have left, thus making you shed more tears. You don’t want your tears to be seen by people, so you cover your face as you cry. Chaehyun moves her seat around the table and hugs you from the side. “You love me so much, don’t you, love?” You can only nod wordlessly. “I love you that much too, you know,” she adds.

“Is there any way I can look at the memories we’ve made together?”

“Nudle probably has backups of our pictures and things like that,” you guess.

Chaehyun asks if you know her passwords, and you happen to have a note on your phone which has a list of usernames and passwords. “I don’t know if you’ve changed your password, though.” She says that it’s still worth trying, so you lend her your laptop.

Nudle asks Chaehyun to enter the code it just sent to her number, but obviously she doesn’t have access to her old phone as it got destroyed during the crash. “Is there any other way to log in?” There is indeed another way, which is by having Nudle send a code to your email address that serves as a recovery email. “Yeah, do that," you say. A few taps here and there, and voila—Chaehyun now has access to her old Nudle account and the cloud services it offers.

“I want to look at our pictures,” she says. Chaehyun gasps when she sees the number of photos saved on Nudle Box. “Oh my God, there’s so many.” You laugh. “It was your idea to take pictures every time we did something fun.” She looks at you with a smirk. “I bet you’re thankful for that.” “Oh certainly,” you say. “Now we have a way to help you peek into the past.”

Chaehyun looks at each picture with a high level of attention, making odd head gestures as she does. “Is there something wrong?” She furrows her eyebrows. “It just feels so weird—there’s proof that I went there and did that, but I don’t remember anything.” You shrug. “That’s just amnesia, I suppose.”

You notice the way your wife’s eyes get teary as she scrolls through the pictures. “I-I’m so sorry,” she’s about to break down any time now, “I-I don’t remember any of this.” You wrap an arm around her, pulling her closer to you. “It’s not your fault at all, sweetheart; we’ve talked about this.” “B-but I want to remember,” she argues. “Look at us, love—we looked so happy, no?”

You take a deep breath.

The picture that is displayed on the screen right now was taken at some point during a vacation to Switzerland, and you had had an argument with Chaehyun a few days before you left for vacation.

“We did, sweetheart, but it’s never all smiles and giggles with us; we’ve gone through tough times too, you know—times that I dare to say I’m grateful you’ve forgotten.”

“And whose fault is that?”

You’re stupefied.

It used to be Chaehyun who always had things to say, but it has always been you who escalated the conflict into full-blown arguments instead of directlyaddressing the issue.

“It’s mine, love—I’ve always been the bad guy for you.”

Chaehyun looks at you with wet eyes. “I want to love you the same way my old self has loved you, but you can’t treat me the same way you’ve treated my old self.” “I will treat you better—cross my heart,” you say, hoping that she can feel the sincerity. “You better, because I’m not going to give you a third chance.”

Chaehyun leaves the sofa, thus leaving you stuck in silence by yourself. Your eyes are fixed on the picture shown on the screen of the laptop. In it, you and your wife stood facing each other while smiling as if the two of you hadn’t fought a few days prior.

A part of you wonders if that’s what being hypocritical means, but the more you think about it, the more you realize that it’s just Chaehyun being so forgiving of your mistakes and shortcomings while you were too happy to be forgiven without even apologizing first.

“Love,” her voice snaps you out of your trance, “have a sip, please.” You take a sip of tea from the cup as asked. “Thank you,” you blurt. Chaehyun wraps her arms around you from behind. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to trip you with guilt.” You shake your head. “It’s not guilt-tripping if I’m really guilty.” “But you understood me, right?” You nod. “Yes, I did.”

Satisfied with your answer, Chaehyun gives you a peck to the top of your head. “I’ll be waiting for you in the bedroom.” You let your wife leave for the bedroom first while you sort yourself out. You think that this photo has a lot of meaning and lesson behind it, so before you turn off the laptop, you have it print the photo to be framed later.

You enter the bedroom with the printed photo in hand, and you see your wife sitting on the edge of the bed, her gaze aimed out the window. She then turns her head to look at you. “What’s that,” she asks. Chaehyun chuckles when she sees the photo. “What are you doing with that?” You tell her about your intention to frame it and place it on the bedside table, and she expresses her approval.

Chaehyun lies on her side and asks that you hug her from behind, so you do so right away.

“What were our dreams, love?”

“We wanted this marriage to be something upon which we build our ever-lasting happiness,” you answer.

“So, what have we done to make that come true?”

“Well, you’ve always been so patient with me all the time, and now I’ve realized that you must’ve felt like you were the only one trying to hold on to this relationship while I took your kindness for granted.”

You hear a deep exhale from her.

“I don’t know what my old self felt like, but I know for sure that this version of Kim Chaehyun doesn’t want to feel that way, so please, please don’t repeat whatever mistake you’ve made in the past.”

“I understand, love.”

You enter the house after another day of work.

Your nose is immediately overwhelmed by the heavenly smell while sizzling noises enter your ears.

Your wife appears from the kitchen with an apron covering the front of her body. “Welcome home,” she greets you. “Sorry, I haven’t finished yet; I miscalculated the time.” You assure her that she has nothing to be sorry for. “Thank you for taking the time, love—you didn’t have to, you know,” you say.

Chaehyun reveals that this afternoon, she dug through the house to find things she could use to rediscover herself. At one point during the search, she found her old recipe book, sitting tidily on one of the bookshelves. She asks whose writings were in the book, so you tell her that she was the one taking notes based on a lot of references, classifying recipes based on their difficulty levels and types. “I had someone make a website that will contain your recipes, but it’s not completed yet,” you add.

Chaehyun invites you to look at what she’s cooking. “I know this,” you say. “This is the ramen and grilled chicken on page 26.” She bursts out laughing. “You even remember the page number, huh?” You chuckle. “Eh, I only remember those that we mark with stars.”

Your wife looks confused. “Stars? What stars?” You grab the book from the counter and use page 4 as an example. “See this?” You place a finger on the star located on the bottom right. “Pages that are marked with this star are our favorites, and among them, we each have a top 3.”

Drool starts pooling in your mouth when Chaehyun lifts the cooked chicken from the grill. “Oh my God, look that that,” you exclaim. “I can already tell that’s going to be so tender and juicy.” Your wife cuts the chicken swiftly into strips after placing it on the cutting board. “Cooking must be ingrained in her DNA,” you think.

After a chain of skillful movements, the food is presented beautifully and ready to be eaten. “Help me put this on the table, please?” You organize the bowls accordingly while Chaehyun gets some other stuff sorted. She then quickly joins you at the table, sitting right across from you.

Chaehyun asks you to try the food first. The first thing you do is to get some broth in a spoon and take a sip. “Oh, my goodness,” you melt into the chair, “oh my God, this is amazing.” Chaehyun doesn’t believe you; she thinks you’re exaggerating to make her feel good about herself. “I mean, you’re free to try it yourself.” Chaehyun does the same thing you did, and she also melts into the chair like you did. “So, do you believe me now?” She nods vehemently, amazed by the result of her own work. “It’s super good,” she says.

The two of you barely speak, too busy devouring the food in front of you. Before you know it, you’re down to the last bite.

“Oh, God, that was so good.” Chaehyun laughs at you. “Must’ve felt so good after not having home-cooked meal in a year,” she quips. “Absolutely,” you say. “It’s great to have you with me again, and I don’t care if I sound like a broken record.” Her soft hand meets yours. “Remember what I said about chances, okay?” You know right away what she’s referring to. “Of course; I’ve burned your words into memory.”

You find yourself lying in bed with your wife after dinner, spooning her from behind like usual. You’re reminded about something. “I’m super late, but happy birthday,” you say. “When is my birthday?” “The 26th of April, which also happened to be the day you woke up from coma.”

She turns around to face you. "What did we do on our birthdays, love?” You take a deep breath first. “We usually celebrate by having sex,” you say. Chaehyun doesn’t believe you, saying that you’re just horny after the special dinner. “I mean, I have proof.” She chuckles. “Of course you do.”

You show Chaehyun some pictures on your phone that are secured behind biometric locks. Her jaw drops; there’s a picture of her with your shaft between her lips taken two years ago, precisely on the 26th of April. Not only that, but there’s also a video, taken on the 5th of January (your birthday), that shows Chaehyun taking you in the ass from behind.

“See, I’m not lying,” you say. Her eyes are still locked on the screen. “We’ve done… anal?” Just remembering what happened that night arouses you. “Erm, yes, this was our first time trying it.” A mix of a sigh and a laugh flies out of her lips. “There’s no hole you’ve never used, huh?”

Chaehyun moves to sit on your lap. “So, are we doing it, or?” You gulp. “Do you want to?” She giggles. “It’s tradition, is it not—besides, you haven’t touched me at all since I came home.” Before you can say anything else, your wife undoes her hair bun, thus making you breathless. “Let’s do it, my dear husband.”

Your wife bends down to kiss you. “Her lips still taste the same,” you think. You’re delighted to see that Chaehyun doesn’t try pulling away from the kiss like she often did. “Did you miss me, by any chance?” She giggles. “Of course I did; you’re my husband—I can’t speak for other women, but I like my husband’s company.”

With her feelings about you confirmed, you pull her into another kiss. “Mm,” she mumbles. “I hope you kept yourself… clean while I was asleep.” You’re almost offended; you didn’t even dare touch yourself, let alone have another woman touch you. “Absolutely; only you are allowed to touch me,” you assure her.

A mysterious frown appears on her face.

“Then who the fuck is Choi Yujin?”

You almost burst out laughing; Choi Yujin is your sister-in-law, and if you remember correctly, she called you a few weeks ago to tell you about her and your brother’s plan to go on vacation. Also, it’s worth noting that Yujin has no reason to seek sexual pleasure from anyone but her husband.

“I really hope you’re not lying,” she says. You shake your head. “You can either take my words, or we can look at some pictures again.” She chuckles. “Just how many pictures do you have saved, love, hm?” You laugh a little. “Almost enough to tell our entire story.”

Chaehyun then tugs at the waistband of your shorts. “I want to look at you,” she says. “Feel free to strip me.” With your permission, your wife pushes your shorts down all the way, tossing them onto the floor after. She gulps when she sees the print of your shaft on your boxers. “And you took my innocence with this?” You nod. “We were each other’s first.”

Chaehyun decides that only looking at the outline of your cock isn’t enough; she wants to see the whole thing in its full glory. Your cock springs into stiffness, and she immediately takes it in her hands (because one hand just isn’t enough).

“Goodness me,” she exclaims as she begins stroking you. “I must’ve screamed a lot when you took my virginity.” You chuckle a little at the memory from that night. “Let’s just say the neighbors weren’t happy about the noises,” you say. “I bet they weren’t.”

Chaehyun moves around until her entrance is hovering closely over the tip of your shaft. “May I?” You nod, and with your green light, she lowers herself onto you. “Oh, God, you’re tearing me apart.” You wonder if it’s purely a coincidence that she says the same thing she did that night. “Thank you for the genes, dad.” Your small joke makes her let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, thank him for the genes.”

Chaehyun starts grinding her crotch against yours, moaning freely as she gets reacquainted with your size. She keeps taking deep breaths every now and then, showing signs of being overwhelmed. “Are you okay?” She nods weakly. “J-just lack of practice,” she says. Chaehyun jokes that you should’ve had sex with her during her coma so that her vaginal muscles didn’t forget you. “Yeah, well, they would’ve sent me to prison without bothering to make a stop at the court.”

Having felt comfortable after a few minutes, Chaehyun begins moving her hips slowly up and down along your length. “Take it easy, baby; there’s no need to rush.” She nods to your reminder, but you can see in her eyes that she wants to go fast sooner than later—the same look of passion from her previous life.

“I love you, sweetheart.” Those four words turn out to be the spark she needs to ignite the fire in her heart: she’s now moving faster and in turn, moaning louder than before. “You’re amazing at this, aren’t you?” She can’t say anything back; your cock that’s lodged in her tight lips is overwhelming her brain.

Exhaustion leads her to plopping down onto your torso, and you do your best to whisper affirmations and sweet nothings while she’s close to you. “I-I love you too,” she whispers back. “H-how many times have we done this?”

You do the calculation in your head: your regular sex schedule was twice—sometimes thrice—a week. Take that number and multiply by the number of years you’ve been married (minus a year because of her comatose) and add the extra celebratory sessions, it totals almost 500.

“You’ve stretched me agape 500 times, huh?” You laugh. “Ah, also, that number doesn’t include the anal and other naughty sessions.” She slaps you on the chest. “I got it the first time; you’ve used all my holes.” You pinch her waist lightly. “I don’t like the word use; everything we did was with our mutual consent.”

Chaehyun lifts her head to look at you. “I want to feel you in my anus again—I consent, so don’t worry.” Your eyebrows furrow. “We’re going all the way this quickly?” She pauses momentarily. “Well, I… don’t know.” You rub her cheek softly. “We have plenty of time, my love—there’s no need to have all the fun right now.”

After the short pause, Chaehyun expresses her desire to start again but says that she’s too tired to ride you to completion. “Let’s do it the old-fashioned way,” you say. You roll over until you’re on top of her, resting your chest on her plump breasts. “I won’t lie, I miss these.” You squeeze her tits, thus earning some soft moans from her. “I-I can tell,” she replies.

You ask for her permission to put your mouth on her tits. “Go on, then,” she urges you. Chaehyun gasps when your lips meet her breast, going as far as arching her back. “Yes, daddy.” The shock puts you to a sudden halt—surely not, right? “What’s that?” Her cheeks are painted red. “D-daddy,” she repeats shyly. “How did you… when did you… what?”

Chaehyun hides her red-as-tomato face behind her palms. She then proceeds to explain (while stuttering) that she found a little diary which had a brown leather cover in a drawer in the wardrobe. “Brown?” Your mind scrambles to figure out what diary she’s referring to. “Wait, what did the cover say?” “Erm, it said sex-capades.” Your suspicion is confirmed; she found the old sex diary the two of you used to maintain.

You chuckle. “How much of it did you read?” “N-not much, j-just a few pages.” You softly guide her palms off her face. “We’ve always been so into each other, sexually speaking.” She still can’t look at you in the eyes. “S-some of the entries sounded like porn, though.” You laugh. “Like the daddy kink?” She nods. “What if I told you that it was your idea, love, hm?” Her blush thickens. “T-then I must’ve been very… naughty.”

You turn your focus back on the intimacy of vanilla sex, moving your hips back and forth slowly to fully enjoy the way her tight walls are hugging your shaft. “My love,” she calls to you breathily. “You’re so good—you make me feel so good.” You’ve missed this type of affirmation from your wife. “You’re also making me feel so good, baby,” you return her words.

You straighten your posture as you prepare to pick up the pace, but before you start, “Love, we’re going to finish this soon, if that’s okay with you.” She nods, saying that she’s also not too far off from her own finish line. “Make me scream your name,” she adds.

Chaehyun’s eyes widen when she sees you put her ankles on your shoulders. “Y-you’re going to ruin me, aren’t you?” You smile. “Something like that.” She gulps to swallow the nervousness that’s stuck in her throat. “I-I surrender myself to you, my love,” she declares. “Just… don’t hurt me too much, please.”

You opt to start slowly at first and then gradually pick up the pace as you go while keeping an eye on your wife’s reactions. You indeed don’t want to put too much pressure on your wife. “So far so good, right?” She nods. “I-I’m going to be so sore.” You chuckle. “Well, the good thing is, you don’t need to leave the house.”

When you reach maximum pace, Chaehyun’s moans get louder. The high level of stimulation has her gripping and scratching the sheets as she’s getting overwhelmed by you. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” You’ve missed hearing her curse during sex. Not only are you delighted with it, but you’re also proud of yourself because you’re still able to perform well in bed.

“Close, darling?” You weren’t looking at her face when you said it, and now that you do, you see that she’s not able to answer: her teary eyes are rolling backwards, and her mouth is stuck open (with drool dripping down the corners of her lips).

“Love, are you okay?” You pause for a moment to check on her. She weakly lifts a hand and shows you a thumbs-up. “Too much?” Chaehyun nods weakly. “F-finish it, please,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

You return to your previous pace, only this time, you’re paying more attention to your wife. “Not too long now, sweetie,” you announce as orgasm approaches. When your cock starts throbbing wildly, you stick it as deep as you can into her and just… let go.

“Oh, God, baby,” you blurt breathlessly. You then quickly pull out your cock, not caring whether it leaks onto the bed, and pull her into your arms. “God, I’m so sorry, love.” She grunts a little. “I-it’s okay—I-I’m just… tired.”

You keep her in a cuddle for minutes until she regains a bit of strength. “H-have we always been this crazy?” You sigh. “Not all the time, no; it’s just that I’ve missed us so much.” A small smile appears on her face. “I-I suppose that’s fair, then.”

You lower your wife carefully into the bathtub that’s partially filled with warm water. With her leaning against yours, you help her clean up the front part of her body, making sure your touch is gentle throughout the process.

“Love, can you say anything, please,” you inquire. You hear a deep sigh from her. “I’m sore,” she says. “I feel like there’s a hole between my legs.” You apologize for being too rough on her first sex after her return, and she accepts it.

“You said you didn’t even touch yourself?”

“No, I didn’t; I felt like that would equal to betraying you.”

Chaehyun chuckles. “Well, I suppose that’s fair, then.”

Chaehyun proceeds to ask about the diaries she found this afternoon. “Love, who is Lee Jungwon—I saw that name a few times.” You sigh. “It was only a matter of time until you ask about him.” Your response leaves Chaehyun puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Lee Jungwon was the man your father wanted you to marry, but obviously, you ended up with me.” Chaehyun’s forehead furrows in confusion. “No offense to you, love, but why didn’t I marry him?” You sigh again. “He, erm—well, let’s just say he had done some less-manly things to you.” She starts getting nervous. “Like what?”

You close your eyes as you prepare an answer for her, taking a few deep breaths as you judge whether you should make it light or not. Eventually, you decide that it’s likely best that she hears about everything.

“Love, you didn’t exactly lose your innocence to me; you had lost it a year prior to Lee Jungwon—he, erm, he had forced himself onto you.” Chaehyun is stunned. “How did that happen, though?" You try to stay composed in front of her. “He had tricked you into going out with him, and when you were drunk, he, erm, did that.”

Your wife bursts into tears, and you’re starting to regret answering the question this way. You guess that explaining further will only hurt her more, so you choose to stay quiet for now. You’re not just sitting there, though; your hand is still rubbing her belly gently to help her calm down.

You let Chaehyun cry to her heart’s content, but it doesn’t seem like she will stop so soon. “He’s been in prison for a few years now—I hope that makes you feel better.” She shakes her head. She says that she’s more concerned about losing her first to a man like that instead of you, her legally wed husband.

Her words force yet another sigh out of you. “Your father was adamant that we got married so that no one else would’ve known about your predicament.” The water in the tub splashes around as Chaehyun turns around to face you. “But you didn’t marry me out of pity, did you?” “No, absolutely not—I love you, you know,” you assure her. “I had been keeping a secret crush on you, and when your father told me about the change of plan, I was over the moon.” “Y-you—” A sniffle interrupts her. “Y-you had other options and still chose me?” You tell her that you had no one else; for you, it was Kim Chaehyun or live alone until you die.

Chaehyun crashes into your body for a hug.

“I-I’m so sorry, my love.”

“No, love, it wasn’t your fault at all.”

“B-but—”

You cut her off by kissing her.

“Not your fault, love,” you repeat. “None of this was your fault.”

You’re now back in bed after that eventful shower, spooning her from behind like usual.

“My love,” she calls to you, “can we burn those diaries?” It sounds like a decent idea, but at the same time, Chaehyun won’t be able to look at the history of your relationship. “I don’t care about the past,” she says. “I’m offering you my future—a blank slate, if you will.”

You ask if she wants to burn down the brown sex diary as well. “Well, no,” she chuckles, “I need that one for… research.” You chuckle as you try to not get aroused again. “Alright, I guess we can get rid of the rest, then.”

Chaehyun turns around to face you. “Speaking of the sex diary, can we try something next time?” Your eyebrows rise. “Can I get a spoiler?” She taps her chin as if seriously considering giving you a sneak peek. “I’ll just say I got it from page 5.” You don’t remember the content of this diary as you do the recipe book, but when you ask further, her cheeks turn deep red. “Yeah, okay, then; I’m down to do whatever it is.” Chaehyun gives you a fleeting kiss before turning around again.

“We’ll have a lot of fun, I promise.”

#girl group smut #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #male reader #male reader smut #smut

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